The Fall of Hierarch Primus

[Mentarch]

His initial reaction, upon hearing the news that one of Ebonwood's scouts had discovered the location of his Sanctum Sanctorum and actually lived to tell about it, was one of utter contempt for the Fates.

How could one of those scouts manage such a feat, thus unravelling all of his plans and preparations of conquest of Aetheria?

Oh, how he hated this world, its denizens, its Gods, its Herald of the Gods and, especially, all of its so-called champions.

To Hierarch Primus, the latter were no more than clownish insects.

Yet, he now found himself relishing the prospect of the incoming invasion of his stronghold by those same clownish insects he despised so much.

"Let them come!" He thought to himself in earnest, a long-forgotten feeling of excitement flowing through his alien body. "At last, let there be a reckoning between me and the so-called champions of this accursed world!"

And come they did, the champions of Aetheria. Relentlessly marching through souless elite war machines, cold undead sentinels, callous elder vampires and grim bodyguards of his equally grim and deadly Commander, Leona.

Highly organized and methodical, the champions bore through the remainder of his fearsome forces, one step and one room at a time.

Then they reached his inner sanctum. With Blade and Leona at his side, along with the last of his elite war machines, undead and bodyguards, Primus smiled: "And now for the end-game between you and me, clowns!" He shouted in defiance to the determined champions of Aetheria. "One way or another, our dance ends this night!"

As one, the champions marched into the inner sanctum of Hierarch Primus.

Blade was the first to fall. Primus felt nothing at the passing of his underling, although he found himself strangely appreciative of the fierce opposition the rogue offered the invaders.

Then Leona fell in turn. Primus was surprised to feel something he never thought he would feel for the passing of another sentient being - sadness. For indeed the alien being had grown fond of his General, like a master grows fond of his favorite, smart house pet.

Lastly, the champions bore down on him - or rather, a phantom duplicate of himself. It was only in the aftermath of this last battle, as the greedy clowns argued over the remainder of his wealth, that Primus finally deigned to honor them with his real presence.

"Come to me, clowns! Come and have a taste of my dark embrace!" He taunted them.

As he fought the champions, Primus could not help but laugh aloud.

And he laughed still as the final blow took away the last of his life energies.

Of course, no one could fathom or even understand that he laughed simply because he would at last be released of this accursed world in which he had been banished.

Finally, he would be free!

Nonetheless, his very last thoughts before sliding into the Eternal Darkness found themselves looking back on all he had wrought upon this war-thorn and bitterly divided world:

The surprise attacks and invasions of his old war machines.
The flights of the dracoliches he had dominated into his service.
The kidnappings, executions and terrorizings of Avendell.
The numerous sendings of powerful undead and outsiders to harass Aetherians - citizens and so-called champions alike.
Ataxia and the other underlings, spreading fear and chaos about.
The Necromancer Creator and his army of undead.
The strongholds and bases established by Leona and his forces.
The numerous attacks by his elite war machines ... and so much more.

Such beautiful chaos and death he had given to this world. He could have done even better. He could have conquered Aetheria and ruled it with a ruthless, iron fist for near-eternity.

But such things were to be no more - for he was finally free of this world, this prison, that he hated so much.

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Time, thought and all other such things have no meaning when drifting in Oblivion in a state of non-existence.

Hence, Primus was quite surprised at finding himself awake inside a damp and dimly-lit cave, on the shores of some sunlit sea.

Primus also had no idea how long he had been gone. Or rather, been dead.

Then an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness gripped him as he realized that he was back.

Back on Aetheria.

Back in his prison.

As he regained his usual cold, calculating and callous composure, he understood immediately what had occured: like all those others trapped on this world, his soul -however alien in origin and nature- had been bound to the rift which caused such havok on accursed Aetheria.

He chided himself for not anticipating such a possibility - after all, he did spend decades on this world since after being banished here ... thus allowing time aplenty for his soul to become bound to this rift.

Still, this knoweldge did little to mollify his dire mood and the renewed, if not increased, hatred he beheld for Aetheria.

It was then that Primus made a fateful choice: "I will not descent into despair for finding myself imprisonned on this forsaken world again. Instead, I shall view this unexpected turn of events as a second chance ... to do better!"

He chuckled in satisfaction as he felt renewed determination and purpose.

"It will take time to reacquire all the ressources I need, but I am a patient being."

Feeling the pangs of thirst, he knelt by a small pool of fresh water to drink from it. That was when he saw his own reflection ... except it was not the face he was born with, nor the body he had developped into ... in another life.

"A new form? How ... interesting!" He pondered gleefully. "I wonder if I still have the same powers or if I have new ones?"

Another purpose thus offered itself to him: to understand the extent of the powers of this newly acquired form of his.

"Oh yes. This will take time and much forethinking. But I think I will find this second experience quite stimulating! But first things first: to find the remains of my dear, favorite pet and bring her back to life! After all, she will undoubtebly have as much interest as I do to get revenge on those clownish champions of this world!"

After quenching his thirst in earnest, Primus walked out of the sea cave to once again face proudly and defiantly the light of Aetheria's sun ...

"I am ba-ack!" Primus mused aloud to himself, his cold laughter being carried away by the salty winds of the sea.