[center] [img]https://i.imgur.com/NFRSFXe.png[/img] [/center] Time: Two nights ago Location: Helius → Rebel Village As only hours had passed since humans were confirmed in the higher ranks, Zalthraxis set his plan in motion to begin cleansing known rebel settlements. The village lay quiet under the moon's silver glow, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets. Children played in the dimly lit alleys, their laughter echoing through the night air. Meanwhile, adults traversed the village, exchanging hushed conversations with other villagers. It was a night like any other. Zalthraxis had meticulously prepared for this crucial moment, spending countless days refining new techniques and developing potent chemicals to eradicate the threat that jeopardized the reality the king had worked so tirelessly to establish. [color=38D476]"Land in the clearing just before the village entrance."[/color] Zalthraxis commanded the pilot, his voice carrying an air of authority and calmness. The pilot obeyed, guiding the aircraft with precision as it descended towards the designated spot on the ground. The clearing was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, casting an ethereal sheen over the surrounding trees. The village entrance loomed ahead, its wooden gate standing as a barrier between safety and impending doom. As the aircraft touched down with a gentle thud, the tension in the air became palpable, a silent precursor to the storm of despair and death that was about to unfold. As the Helius powered down and the doors hissed open, Dark Elf soldiers clad in black outfits and donning gas masks disembarked in disciplined formation, flanking each side of the aircraft's entrance with unwavering vigilance. Zalthraxis emerged, his presence commanding respect as he planted his feet firmly on the ground, eyes scanning the surroundings with a calculated focus. [color=38D476]"Deploy soldiers to secure the perimeter. Any attempts to flee must be met with capture, and ensure that slave collars are fitted,"[/color] Zalthraxis ordered with a cold authority, his voice cutting through the night air. [color=38D476]"Prioritize capturing children first, separating them from the adults among the subjects."[/color] The soldiers, trained for such operations, swiftly dispersed into the shadows, executing their orders with ruthless efficiency. The air crackled with tension as the mission unfolded, each movement a step closer to asserting control over the village and quelling any resistance to the king's vision. [color=38D476]"The rest of you are to, follow me,"[/color] Zalthraxis commanded, leading the company of soldiers towards the heart of the village. Their approach didn't go unnoticed, as weary eyes from the villagers watched with a mixture of fear and curiosity. Some hurried indoors, while others cautiously edged closer, drawn by the spectacle unfolding before them. Zalthraxis's gaze swept over the gathering crowd with a chilling intent, his voice carrying across the tense atmosphere. [color=38D476]"Greetings, I'm sure you're all curious about our presence here."[/color] He raised a clawed hand, two fingers extended. [color=38D476]"Allow me to provide two simple answers. Firstly, known traitors to the king have been traced to this very place."[/color] One finger lowered, emphasizing his point. [color=38D476]"And secondly, intelligence suggests that this village serves as a frequent base for rebels intent on overthrowing the king."[/color] A pause hung heavy in the air, Zalthraxis's hand curling into a tight fist. [color=38D476]"In light of these revelations, you are faced with a choice: submit or suffer the consequences."[/color] With a quick motion, he donned a gas mask, a symbol of the impending chaos, and signaled for his soldiers to commence their assault. Moments after the canisters of magically enhanced green dragon breath were unleashed upon the unsuspecting crowds and the narrow streets of the village, a cacophony of terror erupted. The air filled with anguished screams as soldiers moved with ruthless precision, either cutting down those who tried to flee or dragging them away as prisoners. The resistance, however, was fierce. Some, driven by desperation or sheer will, fought back against the onslaught. They attempted to overpower Zalthraxis's soldiers, using whatever makeshift weapons they could find to snatch the precious gas masks from their foes. Beneath his mask, Zalthraxis's lips curled into a cold smile as chaos unfolded around him. He relished the chaos, savoring every moment of the brutality that ensued. With a fluid motion, he unsheathed his sword, the blade gleaming in the dim light as he lunged at a demi-human who had just taken the life of one of his soldiers. In one swift stroke, he cleaved the assailant in half, his expression portraying a savage satisfaction. For the next harrowing thirty minutes, the village became a symphony of suffering and despair. The agonized cries of the wounded mingled with the crackling of flames, devouring houses caught in the crossfire of magical blasts and fire bombs. The once serene streets now bore witness to a nightmarish scene akin to the hells, a testament to Zalthraxis's unwavering resolve and the merciless efficiency of his forces. As silence slowly descended upon the ravaged village, Zalthraxis's soldiers swiftly shifted gears, their focus now on eliminating any remaining survivors and scouring the area for valuable items. The aftermath was a haunting tableau of destruction and despair, with smoldering ruins and scattered remnants of once vibrant lives bearing witness to the brutality that had unfolded. Survivors, if any, were dealt with efficiently, either through execution or capture. The prisoners, a grim reminder of the night's horrors, were herded into the Helius, their eyes reflecting a mixture of fear, defiance, and resignation. The air hung heavy with the weight of loss and devastation as the aircraft's engines roared to life, ready to depart into the night shrouded in darkness and secrecy. The Helius then ascended, leaving behind a village forever altered by the violence and oppression, an eerie calm settled over the scene. The night air whispered secrets of the atrocities witnessed, yet the world outside remained oblivious to the tragedy that had unfolded under the cloak of darkness. The cycle of power and control continued, unyielding and relentless, as if the events of that fateful night were nothing more than a fleeting nightmare forgotten by the morning light.