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Chapter 1
The Purifier had to give them credit- the Raynans put up a valiant fight. It didn't matter now. As he approached the dais and readied himself to give the conversion speech, he could see the faces of the captives, some angry and others frightened. He turned to face the crowd.
"Humans, in all their various races, spread across the universe, are a disease, a spontaneous outbreak, an unguided mistake. Our purpose, is to correct that mistake, to bring the light of truth to every race of man so that they, too, may discover true life- because there is another verse. A verse of light and beauty where life is welcomed and cherished - an ever new place called Underverse. But this verse can only be reached by those who have embraced the Necromonger faith, for those of you who will right now, drop to your knees and ask to be purified – you will have life everlasting."
A cacophony of jeers and murmurs swept through the crowd. He could see the people shaking their heads. Slowly, a man stepped forward. He had the stature of a leader, perhaps he had been, yesterday. Today, he was merely another captive. He stood proudly and held his head high when he spoke. "We will not convert. This is a free world. We bow to no one." The Purifier glanced to his left to see the Lord Marshal. He was walking towards the man, hand extended. The Purifier cringed at what he knew would come next.
"Then I'll take your soul." In one smooth movement, the Lord Marshal had passed his hand through the defiant man and ripped the soul from his body. An audible gasp erupted from the crowd. All could see the man's astral self writhing in the grip of the Lord Marshal. "Join him," the Lord Marshal tossed the man's soul to the ground, "or join me."
As if on cue, the masses kneeled before the great Lord, bowing their heads in subjection. The Purifier could feel the fear and awe emanating from the mass of prisoners. Some of them were truly converted in that moment, the others, terrified into submission. It didn't really matter what had changed their minds, all that mattered was that the purifiers now had a legion of new converts to process so the ranks would not dwindle. Just as the Purifier turned to bless those who chose the Necromonger way, he saw a young woman approach the Proud Man's corpse. She was small, with dark hair and eyes that contrasted with her fair skin. She kneeled beside the body of the fallen man, brushing the hair from his eyes, whispering into his ear.
Suddenly, the girl sprang into action, drawing a dagger and raising it against the Lord Marshal. Perhaps the Purifier would have cried out, warned his master, if it were not for the utter shock that paralyzed him. He saw the dagger enter the Lord's shoulder as the man twisted away from his attacker. The Purifier was certain he was about to witness the death of yet another helpless breeder, but he was mistaken. The Lord Marshal grasped the girl's throat with one quick movement, but instead of ripping out her soul or simply breaking her slender neck he held on, choking her into unconsciousness. The Lord Marshall dropped the girl's body to the ground, pulled the small dagger from his shoulder and smiled. "Bring her." He waved to Irgun to carry the girl away, as the Lord Marshal exited the audience chamber. A cold knot formed in the Purifier's stomach. Never in 20 years had he seen a man raise a finger against the Lord Marshal. He could not begin to imagine what this child would suffer for her crimes, nor did he wish to. But somehow, as he left the audience chamber and retuned to the Necropolis he could not take his mind off the young Raynan, nor stop wondering what the Lord Marshal had in store for her.