A New Tomorrow
A beautiful and lush planet at peace with itself. A man appears out of a portal in the sky. He arrives with hate filled deep within his chest cavity. A face distorted behind his helmet’s mask, powerless, for now; as his is a power that resonates through time. He remembers power and wealth, fragments, but enough. He makes it to a city, a credit terminal. He places a transfer through the to the most powerful, vile being in the entire multiversity that he has ever heard of. Money always speaks stronger than words. The man has time to recover, heal, repair; all but his once handsome, famous looks: ruined, warped, twisted beyond all recognition, lost forever to the alter of time.
The man stands in an open field as the sleek black craft slowly snakes its way down out of the sky. A figure in reptilian black armor walks out.
“Celrdrrun.”
“-tt-, you’re lucky I accepted this offer, rich man. It came at a most opportune moment, funding my research to adapt and integrate these new fluorographic weapon systems into my own.”
“Are you going to talk all day, or are we going to get to work?”
“-tt-, I’m always working…” he places his five-digited arm across his chest and taps the middle finger of his one three-digit hand against his helmet.
“Also,” the figure from beyond the future continues, “if any beings appear in a suit that bears any resemblance to ours and attempts to stop us, he is mine.”
“Whatever.”
The two figures take to the air, and explode out in opposite directions, leaving swaths of destruction in their wake. On one side of the planet, Celrdurrn lays down a curtain of fire over the major cities, quickly prompting retaliation. The initial forces of the planet only serve to make him laugh as he razes another landmass into ruin. No history of the planet running through his mind, he feels free, unprepared, excited. In his exhilaration, he hardly notices the planet’s primary defences against interstellar threats targeting him. A giant laser blast descends upon him from the sky, arresting his flight of destruction and forcing him deep into the ground.
In space, he emerges out of the beam, and takes hold of the weapon. With it, he carves a giant symbol into the planet, throwing down the weapon, creating a giant crater.
“Hmpf, not my best, but I was hired to do a job, and it’s done.” He flies back to his craft. “What a pathetic planet; fitting that its history won’t be saved.” He closes to door, and gets in. He keeps his craft in the area until his employer has rid the planet of life, survivors would be detrimental to his notoriety.
On the other side of the planet, Kænus’ plans take their necessary time. With forces distracted, he’s free to go where he must, to make use of his research, his bioscans; everything. With the pandemonium and destruction happening on the opposite side of Loameria, he travels in secret to a small metropolis, and zeros in on multiple targets, a family, traced by a recorded DNA signature from a not too distant time. In no time at all, he induces an excruciating evisceration to each of them in succession, torture lasting days in seconds. When done his grotesque, malicious goal, he travels to the shore of the city, and unleashes a giant blast of force, obliterating all life across the continent, leaving only a giant black cloud of smoke to cover half the planet.
GuNNhead 
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