Pant, pant, pant...
Kneeling on the ground, blood dripped from the side of his lips, staining his staff with blotches of deep red. Shit, I pushed myself too far...
Knowing that his anger had screwed him over, he hoped, he prayed hard, for a slight glimmer that that steel bastard was woujded as he was.
Yet it was all just a dream
Even though most of his body was torn into shreds, his arms ripped in many places, his head dangling from the mere inches of his neck...
His body crumbling everywhere
Wheezing with fatigue, Duncan grinned with bloody teeth. "Hah! Got you know you tin can of a bastard!" He knew in his heart that Gears was dead.
He had done it...
He had avenged Eldruis
That was before Gears began reassembling himself.
In front of Duncan's despairing eyes, the broken, crumbling body of the mad technomage began reconstructing itself. First the arms, then the legs, torso, spine, and finally the head.
He has lost all hope
"Ahahahah! Stupid kid, didn't think that I repurposed my body, did you? And thanks to tbe fact that you have consumed all your energy, you can't do shit to me! Now die!"
Plunging his body towards Duncan's weary body, Gears smiled maniacally, sure that nothing could save this insect in front of him.
Until the world began losing its colour
"What the–!?"
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Gears felt it...
He felt his domain, his world, being quickly eroded. The mighty missile silos, the fists of steel, the air of Forgoil, they quickly began disappearing.
Someone is creating their domain here...
Who!? Who on Forgeworld is doing it!?
His answer was soon delivered
Broken remnants of once mighty buildings emerged from the ground, their beauty, though faded, still shining majestically. Bells of all sizes littered the rooftops of many towers, still faintly ringing.
But the artifact that shook Gears' soul were the strips of paper that hung down the bannisters.
Words of ages old stood out from them, their faint etched still radiating power from those-that-were. He could feel his domain slowly crumbling apart, the Naphex flames snuffing themselves out through the sheer faith that was emanating from them–
Wait, faith!?
Turning his head, he was met with a Knight clad in ancient Eternium Power armour, words from Ancient Terra visible on the edges. "You have sinned..."
Horror growing, he could not help but stumble back in terror, realising what, or who, stood before him.
"Impossible, IMPOSSIBLE!? How on Forgeworld is a Grey Templar Grandmaster here!? I thought that the Bureau had fallen after the fall of the Administrator into his Eternal Slumber..."
"Though you are right, it will not stop me from delivering righteous judgment upon you. In the name of the Administrator, I cast you DOWN!"
It finally dawned on him who he was...
"You're that damned Orc..."
With a final whisper, Titus cut the Mechmagos in half.