Space Angels: find the Gift (complete)

●•·Deep Space·•● Prologue

●•·Deep Space·•●

Kill the Throne (298)

The Imp had its orders: scan this particular sector of space for a Throne. Not a seat of privilege with golden arms or gem-encrusted legs – this kind of Throne had neither. Also called Ophanim, it had a body of wheels. Five disgusting rings of flesh studded with a hundred eyes and stacked to form an inverted cone when it moved over land – reassembled as a living saucer-shaped vessel that zoomed across space-time carrying teams in its guts. It would be an honour and a pleasure to destroy the abomination – and its vile passengers, the Cherubym. The first to spot the Throne would have their burdens lifted – by the Lord himself – a prize indeed.

Sitting in the observation dome atop the attack ship's brown rocky hull, the Imp checked its grids on the illuminated table before staring into space itself. Starlight, pinpricks left and right, while behind, the Grimlick's Gate shone with an eerie luminescence. Ahead, a roiling cloud of profound blackness – the dark matter halo. The Throne was certain to enter the killing zone from there, for beyond the halo, the planet Kaelestia – the very cradle of their hatred.

A second attack ship shifted alongside, the gate's glow throwing a soft milky blaze across its lumpy bow. The Imp scrutinised its observation dome. Inside, a rival spotter raised a claw. The Imp returned the wave before eyeing the firmament again. Was there a flicker of colour then – North West quadrant, grid one – over his shoulder? The dome rotated. Maybe not, it was gone now, and a Throne doesn't flicker, it glows. Commander Zub had briefed them well. The Imp's job was to observe, to report and then to join the attack. He began to growl the battle chant.

"Kill the Throne! Kill the Throne!

The Bright One is NOT the right one,

Lord Stygien is the true Religion..."

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