Eternal Threats

Weapons clashed against each other, armour scraped across armour and blood and sweat had been exchanged for a little too long. Throughout this entire fight though, Retvik was pretty sure that Rethanius hadn’t stopped shouting once. No matter how many times the two warriors crashed into each other, no matter how hard they struck each other, Rethanius kept on spewing various threats. Anything and everything, from threatening to use Retvik’s organic armour as a plate, to drinking from his skull, all the way to repeatedly and explicitly describing how Rethanius would pillage Retvik’s corpse.

If these threats had come from any other being, Retvik probably wouldn’t have cared too much. However, as he ducked and weaved between Rethanius’s heavy blows, the threats were… not getting to Retvik, but definitely causing him some concern. One wrong move, and Rethanius could potentially capture, rape and then kill Retvik. Or, worse, take the fight back to his companions and hurt them as well.

“GET BACK HERE, YOU HIDEOUS LITTLE GOLDEN TOY!” Rethanius snarled, spitting vaguely acidic drool across the room, his gun-axe striking the ground and not Retvik. Retvik slipped down a corridor, out of view, every step taking him further away from Arkay and Litvir. Rethanius was definitely the sort of being that would hurt others in order to pursue his prey.

Even then though, the threat of death wasn’t the source of Retvik’s troubles. After all, Retvik had fought against an army of Kronospasts in the past, and they used very similar tactics. But this being though, this Rethanius was supposed to be… an alternate version of Retvik? At the very least, they shared a close enough past to essentially be parallels.

Somehow though, Rethanius was, well, an atrocious individual. Retvik could never see himself threatening harm, rape, death and more on others. Yet here Rethanius was, doing just that.

“Is there something wrong with you?” Retvik suddenly asked as he blocked another flurry of gun-axe strikes from Rethanius, retaliating with a small burst of flame.

This question caused Rethanius to snarl. “Nah, I am absolutely fine. Or rather, I WILL BE when I HAVE YOUR HEAD ON A SPIKE!”

Retvik narrowly dodged a blast of energy, fired from Rethanius’s gun-axe. “No, seriously, you seem very angry. Almost as if you are compensating for something.”

Rethanius’s sudden burst of fury answered Retvik’s question, as he unexpectedly threw his weapon at Retvik, catching him off guard. Retvik staggered, just for a moment, only to be abruptly flung back. Still snarling, Rethanius leaped forward and grabbed Retvik by the neck, bashing him repeatedly against the nearest wall.

“Definitely… compensating for something…” Retvik stuttered, flailing somewhat as he tried to break Rethanius’s grasp. Rethanius retaliated by lifting Retvik off the ground, pinning him against the wall. The tightening claws around his neck forced Retvik to drop his weapons.

“I may have spent my entire fucking life being in the shadow of my brother, the fucking god-emperor, but at least I am not some pansy little cunt like you are. I take what I want, when I want it!” Rethanius spat, drawing blood with his spare claw. “And right now, I am going to take your tight little cunt and make it my own.”

The realization of what was happening hit Retvik harder than the talons cutting into his neck. He started kicking wildly, but Rethanius was using his height to his advantage.

“You should squeal. It would be better if you squealed.”

“I will not give you the pleasure!” Retvik spat.

The black-armoured brute though smiled, wiping away the spit, before slowly removing first Retvik’s lower armour, then his own, exposing them both.

“Oh. I see what you are compensating for now…” Retvik almost laughed, despite the dire situation he was in. “No wonder you cannot find anyone to sleep with you willingly.”

Rethanius paused, then glanced downwards. Before he could come up with a half-decent response, Retvik kicked once more, hitting Rethanius in his exposed groin. Roaring in agony, Rethanius lost his grip on Retvik, who struck once more, sending Rethanius sprawling across the ground.

“I will be honest…” Retvik tutted, straightening himself out. “I have been holding myself back a bit. I thought you were like me, just broken. No, turns out you are nothing more than scum.”

The Voidborn servant attempted to get back on his feet, but was thrown back by a burst of fire. Flames that were far hotter than any other attack Rethanius had so far resisted.

“YOU… HURT… ME!” Rethanius stuttered, more shocked than anything else.

More fire rippled across Rethanius’s chest as Retvik continued his attack. Again, the flames were far hotter than before. In a flash of burning, blinding light, Retvik had coated himself in bright, shimmering flames and was now funnelling the heat into Rethanius’s armour, melting the black steel onto Rethanius’s skin.

For a brief moment, fear flickered in Rethanius’s eyes. But it didn’t last. Retvik snarled as he concentrated the heat coursing through his flames, not just searing off Rethanius’s skin, but melting the metal ground around him, trapping Rethanius in place. Not that he could feel anything. The sheer heat had killed any ability to feel anything but, well, more heat.

The reality of Rethanius’s predicament began to set in. This little twisted counterpart, this little fiery bastard, was not going to relent.

“DO NOT KILL ME! I WILL MAKE YOUR LIFE WORTHWHILE! I COULD HAVE A USE TO YOU!”

Retvik did not heed Rethanius’s pleas, and increased the torrent of flames. The walls and ground melted around Rethanius as his flesh boiled away, his skin fizzled into nothing and his bones and armour melded into sticky, oozing lumps.

Finally, Retvik was satisfied. With a sigh, he snapped his fingers. In an instant, the heat abruptly faded away, revealing what Retvik had done. Rethanius was now nothing more than a pile of molten fat, metal and gold-plated, charred bones.

“You get what you deserve…” Retvik grunted, reattaching his lower armour as he walked away from the still-simmering pool of bodily fluids. “Less than you deserve, if I am honest…”