Commander Krunch burned in unbelievable pain. On the floor several feet below him a cat o’nine tails caked in rotted flesh lay. He took the device to his body until he could no longer feel its sting. Dead Captain Castiel applied unholy water to the wounds just enough he felt pain just below the point of numbness.
The dead captain offered to help but instead the commander hoisted himself onto the hooks and hung in the small concrete room. He had screamed the first few days maddened by the pain. Eventually his mind regained control and still he hung. The cleansing fire of that pain burnt through all weakness leaving only strength. Now the pain was bearable to his new mind. He pushed on the hooks feeling them pull out of his rib cage. He fell to the floor and lay there for a moment reveling in the new sensation. The impact brought more pain, but that was no longer a bad thing.
Dead Captain Castiel entered, “Why didn’t you enter the chamber?” He asked of Krunch. They were there at the chamber to become war machines yet no warmachines returned.
“I felt fear of the pain the process would inflict.” Krunch said in disgust.
“And now?” Castiel asked dropping to a knee to make sure he heard the response.
“Now I know the truth. I will never fear pain. Pain is all that separates us from being a regular corpse.” Krunch said with quiet conviction.
Castiel nodded, “When you are ready bathe in the dark waters and join us in the great hall. I will need to brief you on your team’s mission.” The Dead captain said to the bloody ball of flesh laying at his feet.
“My team?” Krunch asked in disbelief.
The dead captain nodded, “I would prefer a soldier who has fallen 9 times and stood again ten over one who has never known defeat. “ Castiel paused to let his proclamation sink in, “If I never give you chance to stand again you never will. So I want you in command of team. Rise again and be stronger from having known the fall.”
The Barracks of Unit 7756
In the great hall Castiel with his short stature stood on top of their war-walker. he looked out over his gathered forces. The dead earther legion stood in leather armor and plate mail. the olgog veterans who deployed with them stood behind the newer dead who were ill equipped. Castiel wished he had the clout to get them the arms they needed to be a proper dead warrior unit. The surgeon stood behind his apprentices. The bone sowers had picked up their trade quickly.
"We stand tonight on a holy night. Remis our guiding star has aligned. Now is our time to cease training and begin fighting for our destiny.” He motioned to the ceiling.
“Can you feel the dread tugging at the fringes of existence? Warmonger grow stronger every day. Even those who think they have turned from him serve him in the end.” Castiel said.
“Those other dead try to atone for their condition. They seek penance and hide in grey cloaks.” He noted. “They disgust me, groveling for redemption in their minds, defining their actions on their wish to prove they are good trapped in an evil body.”
Castiel spat on the ground a black ichor like substance, “I pity them.” He shook his head and looked out his eyes losing focus. “When Remis found out the true nature of who he served he refused warmonger. He didn’t do so out of selfloathing and a desire to cleanse his sins. No, Remis made his choice based on his code. I just hope we all have that strength.”
“The north star made his choice and turned his back on warmonger. As a result we aren’t trusted by the other units. Now we must earn that trust. We will give our master what he desires, so we may be close when he rises. So we may make a choice like general Remis did. So we may make the right choice.”
“Now we march, the armies of earthers and olgog meet outside Thomasville. We must ensure the land become a lake of blood for our master to swim in.”