The memory shifted. The neon slums dissolved into the grey, ash-choked horizon of a battlefield.
I wasn't on the Abyss homeworld any more. I was on Ignis III, a border world the Demon Empire had settled a century before.
The valley was a graveyard of machines. Burnt-out assault walkers and crushed automated tanks lay everywhere. Dropships hung in the sky, but they kept their distance.
Technology had its limits.
In the middle of the wreckage stood Tenebria. Older again, her movements sharp and predatory. She wore a suit of high-grade composite armour, scavenged and dented and scarred, and held a vibro-blade that hummed with current.
The enemy in front of her didn't care about any of that.
"Put the toy down, mongrel," a deep voice rumbled.
Out of a hovering transport stepped a giant. Nearly three metres tall, skin the colour of cooling magma, horns curled back and etched with glowing runes.
Count Moloch. A noble of the Wrath faction.
