THE ground vibrated with the low hum of the Vorn attack cruisers hanging in the sky overhead. Lucin watched as hundreds of transport pods landed in the valley around him. They carried his precious army of symbyte infected hosts-humans with just enough of him implanted around their brain and spinal cord structures to bend them to his will. Tendrils coursed throughout their bodies and some were specialized; able to emerge through the skin and infect other hosts.
Thousands of humans from the Vorn and Castillian clans back on Castai had been transported with him to Draconis-nearly the entire population of the twelve cities once ruled by Tiet Soone. But that kingdom was over. As soon as Lucin could bring his fallen Mithrial brothers back under his leadership, he would be as Elithias-ruling both a host of Mithri and humans. With his great army he could then move on to conquest of the remaining humans clans on their respective worlds.
Zurig's body had changed somewhat in appearance with his increase in power. It was stronger, faster and Lucin was beginning to see mental powers emerging. In fact his former Mithrial powers were merging with his host and almost nothing seemed to be left of Zurig at all-this was Lucien's body now.
His army was assembling before him; thousands of them, all willing to die for him. Confidence swelled up within Lucin and that sin of sins, responsible for his fall, pride. His power was growing from within and without and all in spite of the will of The Eternal One.
Lucin turned on the hill he stood upon to look to the city in view several miles away. From orbital scans, it was probably the largest out of a few real cities on the continent. The remaining population clusters consisted of small towns and villages.
Lucin knew very little about this planet, apart from its time of creation. It had been sparsely populated, but had been rumored, during the war, to have received a great many refugees seeking an escape from the conflict. Evidently the rumors were true.
But something had happened. The city smelled of destruction, death and decay. The planets largest city was a dead zone. It had to be the handiwork of his Mithrial brethren, the Agonotti, and if so, then they appeared to be gaining power as well.
A fog of ash and pestilence hung over the skyline. He breathed it all in. How wonderful it is. Lucin laughed within himself. He could sense the presence of his fallen ones, somewhere. With the landing of this great army and his warships hovering overhead, surely his Mithrial brethren would have to investigate. Now, all he had to do was to wait for them to make an appearance.