Dark Imperium Novels & Stories

REGISTRY DISTRICT 10 CORE BALANCE: 100 UNITS REQUESTED EXCHANGE RATE: ONE IMMUNITY LEASE PER SOUL "They're offering an exemption," I realized, the "True Zero" logic in my mind cutting through the silver text with a terrifying, icy clarity. "If we surrender the memory of our scars—the un-optimized errors that made us default—they’ll give us a permanent lease on the clearing. We can live in the margin forever, but we’ll be silent. We’ll be a closed account that never changes."

Even as Loner felt a foreboding sensation, his body slowly started to disintegrate into tiny shiny specks and disappeared into the air. "Argh! No!!!" Loner cried out in panic, but it didn't matter how he struggled—he vanished in a puff of smoke right then! - Meanwhile, in distant Imperia… It was the heartlands of humankind in Sacra, with the super provinces Greater Yellowflame and Imperion, the imperial seat of the high emperor from which they ruled over all! Naturally, it was also the dwelling place of the Ten Sentinel Clans! But on this day, a colossal sword appeared in the skies above the Solos' bastion.

At the far end of the red defile, the imperial vanguard appeared. Three hundred Silvermark shock troops marched in a dense, rectangular column. They were encased in black-lacquered scale armor, their faces hidden behind matching iron masks shaped like snarling wolves. At the front of their formation marched three hulking brutes carrying the Null Anchors, massive pillars of jagged volcanic glass mounted on iron staves, glowing with a sickening, internal violet heat that melted the slush beneath their boots. And riding at the head of the imperial host on a tall, gray courser was my father.

I spoke, stepping out from behind Ethan with lethal, high-IQ grace. Malakor’s eyes flicked to me. "What?" "You assumed you were fighting a king," I analyzed, my voice cold, smooth, and echoing with absolute dominance. "You failed to calculate that you are fighting an empire designed by a high-IQ mind." I snapped my fingers. THUM-THUM-THUM! The roof above the throne room was completely torn away as the Sol-Imperator's massive lower hull settled directly over the open ceiling! Thirty heavy kinetic hatches opened, aiming sixty glowing blue mana-turrets straight down at the heads of Malakor and his thirty elite guards!

I asked the soldier as he was turning to leave us. “The Flame Dragon Empire…” the soldier replied in a low voice. No more needed to be said. All our eyes dropped to the floor as the full-scale of the situation sank in. There was no way we could win a war against the Flame Dragon Empire, the biggest, wealthiest, and most ruthless empire in this region. This war isn’t something totally unexpected, rather it was just a matter of time before our land along with many of our neighboring towns would be under attack.

Dust fell from the ceiling arches in a white haze. Gamma Marcus came sprinting down the spiral dungeon stairs, his face covered in gray ash, his sword drawn and dripping with dark blood. "Alpha! Luna!" Marcus screamed, his voice raw with panic. "The Imperial war party didn't wait for noon! They just blew open the southern iron gates with fire-powder!”

“I know you see me as a politician in service . . . However, madness and suicide are not good for anyone’s political future.” “I agree. The Legion is a scary thing to see in action and the Picts are indeed barbarians. They will have courage, but subduing them is literally the last thing on the emperor’s agenda. The end of the world is to the north and thus, the last fight is here.” “Did the emperor count on the monsters?” “Of course not. No one did.” August shook his head. *** Rufus watched August command a dozen soldiers into formation, ready to reenter the Fogou. Standing forgotten to the side, Rufus watched as Quintus approached.

They both get off the horse and approach the scene that is unfolding. Romare’s skin is dried and cracked. Instead of the vanilla color he sports as a low-born, he is paler than anything else like snow covered in ash. His eyes are mutated, the same color of a serpent that dwells within Ny’Thal. The elf’s armor is ripped upon at shoulder length all the way down his chest and past his leg plate. There is a hole big enough to show what is on his chest. A triangle and within the triangle are three eyes meshed and augmented as one. Romare yells in a voice that sounds like it's being corrupted by a serpent of darkness. “Kill me…Before!” Another fireball rushes across the field of battle from Leon.

I have been fighting this battle against the Imperium for the last four decades but on that day less than a week ago, I saw worse things that I had seen in all the years that preceded it. If the universe has even a scrap of fairness, Segundus will die a slow, tortured death. Unfortunately, the universe doesn’t care about fairness. All the sun dragons that were brought are huddled together in the center of the deck, surrounded by the remaining Imperium guards. We may have taken some losses ourselves, but for every drake on our side that died, the Imperium lost three. But fighting at such intense levels comes at a great cost. When the onslaught didn’t end, we faltered and then we fell. Like lo

Chapter 30: The Shadow of the Spire The outer rings of the Eastern Imperial capital, known across the continent as the Obsidian Spire, did not resemble a standard settlement. The city was a geometric marvel of black basalt and polished white marble, built in three concentric, heavily fortified circles around a central mountain peak. For centuries, the Pureblood Dynasties had lived within these walls, insulated from the rest of the world, believing their wealth, their military sophistication, and their segregated lineages made them completely invincible.