Some men are born for greatness. Some are born to lead others into glory. And some are destined to die for a cause greater than themselves. But not today. Today, this man was born to cut birthrights short. Amidst the chaos and death, the champion of shadows stepped forward, the light itself bent away from him, and bowed its head, should it be snuffed out if he met its gaze. Akron Stormbringer approached the horde of enemies that stood before. He wanted this he was born to do this. He wanted death, but how much more did they want it? One rushed forward to the newcomer, it was rabid and feral from the bloodlust around it, simply put it was a creature. It deserved to be put down appropriately. Akron balled his hands into fists. Before the Necron could realize it was two late, it split into two. Two shadows that once formed one on the Necron's torso split as the champion willed the darkness to separate a curtain that allowed the Necron's soul to pass on, if they even had one. It fell to the ground lifeless and twitching from the sudden revelation that it was now dead. Meanwhile Akron turned to the horde. Minus one. "You. All of you. Are mine. I gave you mercy, I gave you life. And now I find you with the creature who took mine." He bent down and picked up a shard of the broken Necron. He thrust it into his chest but he showed no pain, he bled no blood. The Crimson liquid of life flowed from his chest, to his arm and outward, into a sword. He pointed at the Necron's before him. He couldn't help but feel distant memories, a legion of demons, another wave of dark wraiths. But different this time, this time he got to fight for himself. No Necron died in a similar fashion. Each twisted pile of metal bore different wounds, punctures, slashes, dents, death had no prejudice. It was a creative, it was opportunistic, it was a ravenous carnivore hungry to tear into the flesh of life and ravage it bare. He uttered no sound as his body transformed into a liquid of shadows, blood and metal. He attacked with grace that assured he was always on the offensive, and with sheer brutality that discouraged any counter attack. Indeed, you could say the Necrons allowed themselves to die, as if it was their duty to put on a show and die with some flair to lull the wrath of Akron to a dim hate. But amongst all conformity there will always be one who rises to defy. Behind the broken scraps of soulless metal a larger, bolder Necron stepped forward, axe in hand to challenge the champion. It flashed its axe in calling to its flesh covered opponent. Akron took two steps forward to accept, then waited. The Necron dashed forward axe raised over head to swing down, but it left its attack to choreographed. Akron merely sidestepped and looked down at the blade cockily. The Necron then swung the blade horizontally in an attempt to decapitate the man. Akron lowered his head and dashed forward while slashing leaving a gash in the Necron's side. Temporarily reeling from the attack, the Necron turned back to face Akron who was now behind him. Akron spun his sword once then in turn moved to the offensive. Akron swung his blade right to the machine, but it held its axe up vertically using the shaft to block the strike. Akron, anticipating the block then spun, bending his knees swooping his blade down to the Necron's feet. Surprisingly it was ready for this as well, it swung its axe in a downward arc which parried the blade and left Akron's guard open. It only had enough time to use the end of its weapon to bludgeon the side of Akron's helm however. With a growl Akron spun around thrice before stopping to look back at his foe. Something was off, they never put up this much struggle. No this Necron was different. It was filled with chaos, it had been given that boon perhaps in a last ditch attempt to avenge its fallen. But no matter, it would only die a warrior. Akron charged forward and jumped into the air while stabbing down at the Necron. The enhanced machine in turn ran forward and dodged to the side. Akron quickly rolled and turned around, while maintaining a low stance. Using his legs he propelled himself forward slashing. With a mechanical growl the Necron also charged and their weapons met. They quickly pulled apart then swung again at close range, but only yielded the same result. The Necron kicked Akron in the torso yielding both the benefit of winding him and knocking him over. The Necron, now with the advantage swung its axe down to Akron's right shoulder. He lifted his body and turned and the weapon embedded itself into the ground. Akron kicked the Necron in the knee but it only resulted in the machine bending it's leg slight. With an outcry of pain Akron grabbed his leg as it suffered a jolt from its impact. The Necron picked up Akron and threw him into a wall. Then threw its axe horizontally. Akron tried to block it through a frantic creation of a shadow wall, but the axe only passed through and sliced into his torso. Red, red blood. He was human, he bled like any other living creature, he could feel pain, he could fear death. But he had not feared death in a long time. Rather he feared he would die to someone who did not deserve the killing blow. He stood up, he let the red blood flow. He was going to show the Necron what it meant to bleed. Foolishly, now the Necron didn't have a weapon. And after all, death is creative. Sharp tendrils burst from the wound inflicted. Each end pulsed red to Akron's suddenly slow heartbeat. He used the tendrils as extra legs to leap high into the air, bring each end and his sword down with a roar. The Necron only had little time to react, it tried to dodge but only avoided the sword. The others cut into its mechanical frame, leaving deep gashes that still had drops of blood within them. It gripped its wounds and tried to back pedal to no avail. Akron leaped forward and the tendrils cut its legs clean off. Now crawling it scrambled back still, many things feared death, who was to say a Necron couldn't? Rather than hunt it down Akron ordered the traces of his blood that were now inside the Necron to freeze. To its surprise, it was now frozen, incapable of any movement. Akron realized it was over, he allowed his tendrils to enter his bloodstream again, and slowly walked forward to savor his final kill. But he paused, it could die with a more poetic fashion. It deserved the least. Akron opened his palm and his signature blade melted down into liquid and entered his rent armor. He pulled his hand behind him and the Necron's bloody axe flew into Akron's hands. With a small chuckle Akron brought the axe down lodging it into the machine's now lifeless skull. Akron stepped back to admire his work, then turned his back and left. Today, he claimed his title as champion of death.