I heard the roar and the screeches behind me, but I didn't stop running. Down one alley, across another, through this deserted building, and I think I actually plowed through a crumbling bit of drywall. Anything to escape.
My luck still hadn't run out apparently, when I saw another Chimera, with a group of Imperial Guardsmen around it. Being close to the recently 'secured' zone had its advantages. They all looked up as I all but crashed into them, panting and heaving. I think they were Tallarns...my memory's a little fuzzy at this point.
Then, I saw, just on the road ahead, a Chimera pulling onto the main secured road. Just another vehicle shuttling troops to the front...only this one had a huge scorch mark on its side. I pointed at it and, I don't know where I found the breath, I yelled.
"FAKE! HOSTAGES INSIDE!" Then I passed out.
I dreamed of a world that was sick. Seas that were either black, or almost purple, all of it covered with an oily film. A forest covered in black, tar-like moss, and the ground bubbled and oozed with green tinted mud.
The city was an atrocity. High walls of stone, small quaint houses, a few stores and eateries, and a very impressive chapel in the middle of the town, but it was all wrong. All horribly wrong. The streets had dead bodies lying everywhere, some places, heaped up in piles taller than the houses. There was filth everywhere, and the smell...oh by the Emperor the smell...
Worst of all was the quiet. It was peaceful in that city, a place of quiet rest, the same quiet rest that you feel when you are alone on a sick bed in a hospital, when there is only you and your disease...the only soft noise is that horrible croaking noise that only comes from the voices of the dead.
The worst part was that I knew...I was told...that this was not a completed city. It wasn't finished yet...but when it was...
Murahi would hold...forever.