Nightmare.

Obsidious lay on his back in the tiny room. Barely three metres each way. He scoffed. How was he reduced to this? Ugh.

The grimy moonlight tore through the pane of the dirt-crusted window next to him, illuminating his chest as his hands clasped over his midsection. He sighed, shifting slightly with a loud creak.

He needed rest. The last few days had been far from forgiving, considering he'd had no sleep and no food or drink apart from what Razor had given him. He drifted into a slumber - though to say it was an escape would be a lie outright.

He dreamt of horrific things. He watched his own fleet implode in the confines of deep space as the lifeless bodies of his men were thrown across the void, watching those who remained in the ships be hunted down like foxes by Hyperium's bloodhounds. He heard anguished screams, the crunches of tortured bone, the squelch of mauled organs drenched in blood as the roar of blaster fire and the smell of burning filled his senses. He watched the galleys stain with the corpses of his troops, watched the members of the Ultimatum be hunted down and executed in the most dishonourable fashion. Annihilus overrun, Dragon torn in half by high-calibre machineguns, Warpspeeds bones shattered and impaled on iron spikes.

And in every scene, Hyperium was in the background.

Obsidious awoke in a cold sweat, screaming.

"Gah-Ffu- FUUUUCK." he groaned. What a fucking failure I am, he lamented to himself. He looked outside - the grey light of dawn had broken.

He arose from his bed with a cacophony of squeaks and creaks, dressed only in his underwear - it had been far too warm for him to remain clothed overnight. He grabbed the black shirt and thin trousers he'd been wearing, slipping the shirt deftly over his midsection, covering his toned torso, hiding the scars he'd acquired through his years of service as a warrior. He did the same for his bottom half.

He used what space he had in the tiny room to stretch, cracking the stiff joints of his knuckles and back, his huge figure gracefully extending itself, loosening his muscles up for another day. From his knowledge of gangs and mobs, he'd have to prove himself regardless of who he was.

Or who he used to be.

He grabbed his armor. The sound of clacking metal, the zip of straps being tightened and the clink of buckles being closed filled the room. He proceeded to leave the room and wait outside, his armored back leaning against the dusty grey paint of the house. No breakfast today - though no issue. The terrain he would be tackling was urban, not natural.

All of a sudden, Raz leant out his own window, from the room adjacent to the one Obsidious had slept in.

"You'll have to go alone. I'm not feeling so good, but I'll try to make it."

Ugh. Of course. Obsidious knew full well where the Arkanium HQ was - in the giant, purple skyscraper that towered over the rest of the skyline. Easily seven hundred metres tall, and the light of the two suns of this planet reflecting through the translucent, unknown ore that the skyscraper had been built out of.

He commenced his trek. The walk was a short one, only about five kilometres or so - but the former capital city was a maze of wrecked towns and shady alleyways. Several times his orienteering skills nearly failed him, till he arrived in one of the more grimy parts of town. However, it was a much needed shortcut to the tower.

His armored feet clanged as he trod on the cracked tarmac of the roads, witnessing women, children and men alike dressed in rags shy away from his glowing presence. He strode with pride like some infernal peacock, his immense height commanding the attention of the creaking grey buildings - constructed of concrete, uniform in original design, but not so in terms of how the weather and events of the past years had treated them. Windows shattered and boarded up, obscene graffiti scrawled on the walls.

Obsidious turned the corner, kicking some loose pebbles into the nearby gutter with a clang and a plop.

He appeared to be standing on top of a hill, and at the bottom, about a kilometre away, was the pristine, amethyst entrance of the Arkanium headquarters.

But before that, down at the base of the hill, was an orc. A rather large one.

Clad in iron and leather, golden earrings dangling from his oversized lobes, green skin covered in soot and dirt, likely from his lack of an actual home. Two large fangs protruded from his lower jaw, both circled with a golden ring. He carried a club of some black type of wood, studded with iron spikes. His flat, oversized nose flared with a huff at the sight of the warlord ahead of him, his large gut heaving as he held his club to the side, ready for a fight.

Obsidious chuckled. An orc. How many of those has he killed?

"ORC!" he calls out, in his commanding, deep tone. "Allow me to pass. You evidently do not know who I am to be placing yourself in battlestance. Step aside now, and you shall live."

"I know all too well who you are, Obsidious." the orc spits, in a gravelly growl. "Destroyer of my home world...and now I shall destroy you. Have at me."

"Very well."

Obsidious crouched, then, like a spring of annihilation, leapt into the air with a thunderous boom, cracking the ground that was once beneath his feet.

Reaching the peak of his monumental arc, he drew his fist back, angling himself downwards slightly.

The orc spun his club furiously to brace for the impact, to reduce the speed of the dark warrior bearing down upon him. The two forces connected, a mushroom cloud of dust and dirt rising hundreds of feet into the air.

Once it cleared, a pulverised, nearly liquified mass of green flesh and blood lay on the floor, and on top of it stood a horned figure, armored in red and grey.

"Pathetic." Obisidious spat. He'd hoped someone with such pride would have the strength to match.

He continued to walk forwards in the deserted avenue, his boots leaving slimy, green prints of the former challenger as he proceeded.