(((
It's good to be back boys <3)))
[member="Jorus Merrill"]
And here they were... literally attacking the main building, the center of all rule in the Ancient Eye. Knocking on Mythos' personal abode with exotic plasma cannons. The entire building shook so violently it threatened to be torn apart. Chaos and disorder were about everywhere except in Mythos' personal stasis chamber and his sarcophagus. Naked he stepped out of the multisteeled tomb that was his sleeping chambers for almost an entire galactic year. His absence and notable removal of public view must have given the people of Angramar something to question and even more gave his enemies the idea that he was dead, that his empire was weak and that the worlds he had carved from nothing into a superpower were now nothing more than a rabbling mess with no leader and no movement.
They would find out today that their assumptions were wrong. They had been correct in assuming that Nibelungen was weakened but had clearly over estimated to which extent that weakness spread. With Mythos out of the picture much was left to chaos but now the Warforged Titan of Atrisia emerged from his sarcophagus to the thunder of enemies and he could not possibly be more pleased with the situation. He strode through the broken droids and grabbed his axe, servants came from every direction shaking with fear and mumbling upon themselves to dress him in his battle gear.
~ I can sense their fear Ophidia~
He said to himself in crisp Ancient Sith, speaking to his master [member="Darth Ophidia"] even though she was not near for lightyears or so he thought. Still in his mind he meditated and concentrated on her. His sheer might and raw power in the darkside perhaps amplified with the axe could reach her ears...
More than likely it would not, it mattered not.
~ It makes me strong just like you and [member="Darth Ferus"] wanted me to be remember?~
Across the entrance of his chamber was the unmistakable sight of his great chamber filled with trophies, gold, treasures and war paraphernalia that would water the eyes of the poor and the mouths of the rich. Drapes of vivid colors and tapestries brought from every corner of the galaxy adorned his chambers as well as a massive sculpture of himself carved out of pure uncut Lava Crystals. Many died in crafting the statue, all did so with glee knowing they would see their God in human form in the afterlife of Athernia.
All a lie... to suit his own lust for power and of course the Eye.
His Armor was a testament to his glory
His shoulders were draped in a special layer of durasteel and titanium plating that were heavy but allowed maneuverability, his back was adorned with a gold embroidered cape carved by the magistrates and artisans of Ankhypt nobility and sported it with a thousand colors and jewels. His boots were a thick plate of Phirk that rose up to his knees and faced outwards with several spikes and padding for inner comfort, His legs and groin were covered with Terentatek leather and a chain-mail songsteel alloy that was light and extremely effective against slashing attacks. Each of his knee pads sported a rare ruby gem as large as his fist and was detailed with carvings of his name and his victories. His chest was protected by light plasteel innards and a coat of beskar without forging, it held the sigil of Atrisia and carved around his abdominal, back and stomach were the names of every single Atrisian soldier killed in the great war. He wore no head gear other than his H.U.D. as he wished for his enemies to see the face of the man who ended their lives.
His weapon of choice was his axe but also brought with him his
lightsabers,
Rudis and a blaster pistol. He was running light today as he stepped outside of the great hall and called forward a blast from the past. A Nabooian fighter, the fighter he made his own during his time as a Nabooian starfighter for the queen of the planet more than two whole decades ago. The now iconic N-1 fighter had several tweaks and perks to be added on to it, mainly it's paintjob being black and red to sport the colors of the One Sith, the One Sith insignia emblazoned onto it side rather obnoxiously and a complete re-fit of all it's equipment, weapons and torpedoes to make it viable in modern space combat... they however... forgot to upgrade the lackluster (even for it's time) shields.
One force jump brought Mythos into the cockpit of his old friend and ally, affectionately called the Gossipy Ponderer by the old chaps at the 45th aerial regiment of Naboo and the docking bay prepared for takeoff. Other fighters prepared but Mythos held them at bay... if he needed extra back up he would call, for now he thought, he would handle this on his own terms. Placing his weapons away comfortably and igniting his enginies Mythos was pleased to feel the thrust and boom of his engines once again...
He yearned and envied those in the sky... always forced to fight here in the ground below the streaking stars and the blue canopy always above him but not today. Today he would show these intruders why he alone was one of few to face The Wardens of the Sky, greatest fighter pilots in the Galactic Alliance... and live to tell the tale. Who could boast of such a feat?
The King of all, The Sith Magnus, The Alpha and the Omega, The Lord of the Sky and God of the Infantry damn sure as hell could.
*Routing Systems Engaged. Weapons Primed. Welcome Back Animus I Missed You*
"R-4, get me a read on the read on that ship and hang on. I'm getting in close"
When Mythos exploded out of that hangar he headed sky high using the speed of the N-1 to his advantage and turned the ship around to head down in a spiral, attack bomber drop with enough distance to gauge his attack pattern and time enough for both pilots to figure each other out, albeit, two to three seconds is an eternity in pilot time. Upon reaching a good distance Mythos let fly hot plasma and would seek to land tightly on his six o clock.
