[center][h3]T H E  C U L T  O F  U G - Q U A L T O T H [/h3][/center] 
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[center] [i][b][url=https://i.pinimg.com/750x/69/27/6e/69276ec4a09c55275198f9e8bd4ef255.jpg] [b]The Group Leader[/b][/url] Columbus [/b][/i] [/center]
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[b]"We give upon the earth, our brothers...our comrades...our fellow faithful."[/b] The group leaders voice boomed, even though he spoke normaly, with little haste, but a deep bitterness. The two militans, that had been Bat-kick and Jagged lay broken upon the board. An explosive trap, had sprung when they had entered the building and torn into them, like a sickle into fresh razorgrain. The Group Leader had held onto Bat-Kicks hand, when he taken his last breaths, coughing blood that was more black then red. His last words, had been a hissing begging for last breath of Miasma, to numb his pain. When the rebreather had reached his mouth, he had already turn limp in his grip, dying from the terrible wound, the cowardly contraption had inflicted upon him. The priests in the liliac robes, had collected them, ordered their slaves to strip them of all that was salvagable, before leaving their bodies behind, tossing all they could still use, to fuel this eternal war onto a cart, before moving on, back behind the army. Naked, the the group had gathered some fabric, to give their brothers some decency in death, and cover their wounds. Rolled into it, the had placed them here, in a more secluded spot, with deep earth to bury them, rather then just leave them for the crows, as the priests in the liliac robes would do. 

[b]"They were brave! They were brothers to each and every one of us. None of us ever found them wanting. None of us could claim to have done better! We will never see the likes of them again..."[/b] The Group-Leaders mouth felt bitter, as his lungs begged for the miasma. His nose took in the smell of blood, and for a moment, his sadness was overcome by rage over the cowardly murderer who had robbed him of these two fine men. [b]"If it wasnt for Jagged, i never would have made it through the blood works. He jumped in, when a ghoul overpowered me.."[/b] The voice of another militant rose, before one more came forth. [b]"Bat-kick always made sure we all got our rations. He would not eat before the rest of us did."[/b] Three of his men were digging two holes, deep enough, that the two would finally be able to rest, never to be found by the vile faithless. Something inside the Group-Leader wished he could say something. Promise that they now were at a better place. But it was a lie. There was no such thing, in the twilight of the monolith. 

Finishing up on the hole, the three climbed out, ready to lower the bodies. [b]"Let us never forget our brothers. Let us never forget who they were, as they would have never forgotten us!"[/b] Reaching for the bodies, the Group-Leader suddently stopped. It was a buzzing, like a swarm of angry insects, all around him. Slowly, it grew to a massive roar, and then, the ground itself began to shake. [b]"Group-Leader? What is that infernal noise?"[/b] Turning, the Group Leader walked forth, between the two holes, and stared into the red sky. Then, he saw it. Machines, roaring Machines of death and fire...

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When the Group leader woke up, he was lying in the hole. His whole body ached and pained, as he was half covered in earth and half in... [b]"No...please no!"[/b]

Getting up slowly, he shaked the earth off, wincing, as he spat out earth and blood. His ears were still ringing, as he could not tell where he was. The buildings that had surrounded them, were gone. Fire and ash was everywhere. Reaching for his ears, he could feel the hot liquid of blood running down them. [b]"WAR GROUP! RALLY TO ME!"[/b] He knew that he was screaming, but he couldnt make out his own voice. Standing on his shaking legs, he stumbled forward, into the ruins. 

[b]"BROTHERS! TO ME!....BROTHERS! BROTHERS!"[/b]

The group leader would not find them. When he returned to the two graves, he slowly began, the task to fill them, with the remains he could make out. He had come, to bury two of his group, but now, was burying them all in two shallow graves. So little, was left of them, that he hardly could fill one of them. 

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The scourge of Colombus, second strike against the Cult by the Brotherhoods Airforce, had been an even greater success, then the first attack on the skull monolith. The vanguard of the cult army, caught suprise and directly in the city, was shattered under the infernal bombing campaing.