[right][h2][color=red]Khaine[/color], Oblivion Dungeon - [/h2][/right]

A single point of calm within an ocean of chaos, the eye of the storm. Khaine sat, eyes closed, mind focused, as his memories raged around him. Armies clashed, blades flashed, bullets and energy beams filled the sky. Immense titans of metal and flesh marched across the battlefield, sowing death and destruction. Angelic beings flew high above the field of battle, their magics twisting and perverting the natural energies of their very world to do their bidding. Immense engines devoured the souls of the devout to power their twisted machinery as they emitted disintegration beams in all directions. At the centre of this war, this merging of all wars, sat Khaine, his legs crossed beneath him and arms on his lap. For even as his memories raged around him, his thoughts were deadly calm within. A focused point, a point of reference, just as he was the point of calm within this storm. 

Within the ever-twisting walls of Oblivion, the boundary between reality and fantasy was thin and ever-changing. And as he sat there his very thoughts conspired to lock him within his prison-without-walls. Enemies he had defeated, allies who had fallen, and former friends who he had lost many years ago all stood against him here, barring his exit. Worse still was the turmoil within his own thoughts, an emptiness that sought to draw him into oblivion. That drained him of what he was, what he wanted to be, his very existence. A treacherous nothing that was not nothing, an empty darkness that sought to devour him from within. Without a doubt, if he allowed this darkness to overwhelm him he would once more become a thing of war. A mindless monstrosity, a twisted tool for battle with no thoughts or intentions beyond it's intended purpose, unquestioningly obeying the orders of Hell's tyrants. That was not a life Khaine could return to, that was not something he could inflict upon the Nexus once more.

But as he struggled with his inner demons, both literally and metaphorically, something changed. Something large, something powerful, something momentous. Khaine could feel it in the air, in his very essence. A voice rang out through the abyss, promising answers to ancient secrets and freedom from tyranny. And Khaine could feel it, like a breath of fresh air, the scent of the world outside this prison. So this strange voice wished for the evils within this prison to be unleashed on the world? No, they were using that as a threat in order to manipulate someone else. Did this person plan on challenging the three factions? Whatever their plan, this disturbance granted Khaine the chance he needed to escape this place. Once he'd managed to retrieve the Stone he would be able to leave this damned place once and for all. Once he was on the outside, and could think more clearly, he might begin to consider the possible motivations of this strange voice that had freed him.

When he stood, the warring figures around him disintegrated. Concentrating, Khaine focused completely on his goal. In this place a stray thought was a dangerous thing, and he made sure to release none. Although the darkness of this place could not be fended off forever, he would have to last until he managed to retrieve the stone. This was what spurred him on as he sliced his way past the lesser angelic soldiers who seemed to march from a great hole in reality. Not an exit Khaine could use, unless he felt like fighting his way through the full forces of Heaven itself. So he proceeded on to where he believed the stone to be, where he felt it to be, although in this place nothing was certain. Leaping over a charging angel he continued to run ahead of the angel's main forces, hoping not to attract all too much attention as he rushed towards the deepest depths of the Dungeon.