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    © 2001 Andrew Dormeier He turned the safeties off in an unconscious reflex and prepared to defend himself. He didn't have to wait long. The demons piled over the last hill and rushed down onto the plain. They were all different sizes and species, having once been sentient life forms that had been bent to the will of the true-blood demons. Artemus opened fire and unloaded both clips of ammo in only three waves of blue energy pulses. Although many of the enemy dropped to the ground, it made no noticeable effect on the horde. Artemus re-holstered his guns with their white-hot barrels and proceeded to bring his right arm up and straighten it, with his fist facing the demons. Holding his forearm steady with his left hand on his elbow joint, he bent his knees to brace himself. He opened up his palm with his fingers slightly curved towards the oncoming threat, cursing to himself at his need to use the technique. With a short, deep yell a black sphere shot outwards from his palm. It was so dark it was difficult to focus on as it tore through the air towards the army. A local disturbance in space-time with a small mass but near-infinite density, the miniature singularity ripped its way through the left flank of the demon army, taking out over a hundred of the dark soldiers. He fired once more, this time into the right flank. Nearby demons were immediately sucked into the hole, while others farther away seemed to shrink as they were taken east by the gravitation pull of the moving shot. Twisting his right palm to face upwards, Artemus pointed two fingers out and swept his right arm up in a wide arc. The two singularities similarly arced upwards and shot away from the planet Aruman at high speed. As they passed through the thunderhead they tore skylights into it. Suddenly a dark ship could be seen in the middle of this area. The ship, now revealed as the source of the storm, had two holes in its belly, out of which explosions commenced. It began a quick decent and crashed into land to the northeast with a resounding rumble that could be felt in the ground. Uneffected, the violent weather began to protest with lightning. In the ensuing chaos his attacks had caused, Artemus focused on the center of what had been the army, which was still very large and still moving forward, albeit more slowly. They were almost on top of him now, only about 75 feet away. A few rounds of fire from projectile weaponry whizzed towards him from the ranks of the army and he instinctively waved his hand, creating a sharp curve in space around him to deflect the shots. They harmlessly made small craters in the ground twenty feet away. Already sweating from the difficult attacks he'd just performed, Artemus drew his sword, Obsidian, from the diagonally hung sheath on his back. Obsidian had a pitch-black blade with a silver hilt that brightly reflected the few rays of sun that had broken through the immense cloud that had overtaken the battle. A faint orange glow came from a spherical jewel embedded in the center of the hilt. Obsidian was a force to be reckoned with. Assuming his standard defensive position, he waited the next few seconds for the onslaught to begin. |
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