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They also carried plasma melee weapons of every kind: swords, battle axes, war hammers, maces, morning stars, pole axes, weighted chains, all of them flickering with brightly glowing energy sizzling from their business ends.

Their weapons were the only thing about them that did not match the monochromatic color scheme, and were of a range of badass and weapon-appropriate metallic shades: gold, brass, bronze, chrome, silver, steel, etc.

One grizzly bear-headed demon I noticed — a huge black one flying with the black knight’s army — appeared to have a plasma chainsaw of some kind, bless his horrible heart. Gasoline powered, of course. An obnoxiously loud two-banger that would make Ash Williams from Evil Dead 2 proud. Unlike Ash, this chainsaw was hand-held, not hand-mounted. Unclear why a plasma weapon needed a rotating chain. Perhaps this particular demon bear liked the “wow” factor and the noise? As he flew through the air, he repeatedly revved it for no reason other than to announce himself, so probably “wow” factor.

Not far from Chainsaw Bear, and traveling with the white demon horde — technically more of a collection of off-white shades, much like the “whites collection” you see in the paint department of a hardware store: pearls, porcelains, ivories, creams, eggshells, etc. — was a dirty white polar bear demon wielding a big circular saw with a glowing plasma blade. It too had a glaringly loud gas motor, which begged the question: why were mutant space demons who could open dimensional gates still bothering with refined hydrocarbons for fuels? But I digress. What’s not to like about a polar bear demon wielding a wicked circ saw? Nothing. Nothing at all.

I said to Captain Theia, “Are these more of Crewd’s pirates?”

“I don’t believe so, my king.”

“Any idea why they’re here now?”

“Word must have gotten out, my king,” Captain Theia sighed, her voice heavy with resignation.

“What word?” I asked.

“Word that there’s no king sitting on the throne of Zalaxia.”

“Because I haven’t had my coronation yet.”

“Yes, my king.”

“Let me guess,” I smirked. “It’s not just Baron Crewd and his space pirates who want the True Ring. It’s every male in the galaxy.”

“The universe,” Theia emphasized. “I’ve never seen beings such as these.”

“And here I thought they’d show me the courtesy of waiting to officially challenge me at the Royal Colosseum after I’m crowned,” I said sarcastically because I hadn’t shown that courtesy to the previous king. Not that he had given me a choice when I’d tried to rescue my Bombshells and leave. I hollered over comms, “Crown to Control! Any idea what these things are?”

“Control to Crown, no, but they just announced themselves over all comm channels and in multiple languages.”

“Announced themselves?” I smirked.

“Yes, my king!”

“What’d they say?”

“They say they’re the Four CyberKnights of the Spacepocalypse!”

“Never heard of them,” I snorted in disbelief.

“Nobody has,” Ursa said. “Not here at base, anyway. Hydra hasn’t heard of them either.”

“Then I don’t feel like a complete noob,” I chuckled.

“Noob, my king?”

“Newbie, novice, absolute beginner.”

Captain Theia smiled, “You’re far from that, my king.”

“Good. Let’s go kick some CyberKnight ass. And we’ll kick the asses of every space demon that has one.”

“What about those that don’t?”

“Kick them where it counts,” I quipped, thinking of the numerous and strange Lovecraftian beasties I’d seen. “Wherever that is…”

—: Chapter 33 :—

From my vantage point on the outpost landing deck — the tallest building positioned roughly in the center of the base — I could see the CyberKnight horde pouring out from the continuously churning Chaos Fold Gate. I was surrounded by my Shock Knights, now wearing their golden power armor, helmets on and visors down.

Around us, pairs of the familiar Air Guard mechs I’d seen fighting against Titano were riding up two different hexagonal cargo elevators and joining the rest of the big mechs and armored guardswomen already crowding the deck. The deck crew were prepping the mechs for launch. Small squadrons of armored guardswomen were already in the air, rocketing toward the action.

Mounted at the six corners of the outpost’s hexagonal arrangement of buildings were six large anti-aircraft turret cannons blazing away, shooting a constant stream of bolts at the arriving horde. The sound was deafening, that familiar thrill of what I imagined it would sound like if a chainsaw factory fired up every saw on the production line in unison. Thousands of savage saws at once.

BRAAAAAAAP!

BRAAP!

BRAP! BRAP! BRAP!

BRAAAAAAAAAAAAP!

But it was louder than that. Imagine a much larger font taking up the entire page of a comic book or manga, or if you’re militarily inclined, imagine six different Phalanx CIWS — Close-In Weapon Systems — firing at the same time.

Using my helmet loudspeaker, I said to Captain Theia, “I’m assuming we haven’t engaged with the enemy because of those cannons?”

“Yes, my king,” she replied via her loudspeaker.

“What are they called? The cannons?”

Theia said, “Hellstorms, my king. They’re automated 30mm Kurkullan RG612 Hellstorms.”

“Rolling guns, right?”

“Yes, my king,” Theia nodded. “Six barrels each.”

“Impressive,” I grinned, watching each turret whipping left and right, up and down, targeting the demons with incredible precision. Very similar to the radar-guided CIWS back on Earth. Although the CyberKnights on their horses and the space demons were dodging fairly quickly and effectively in the air, the cannons had already taken out several minor demons in glowing explosions, and one big snaking demon eel ridden by several more humanoid demons. It went crashing into the jungle like someone had set fire to one of those paper dragons you see on Chinese New Year. Blaze of glory.

On the ground, just inside the outpost’s tall perimeter wall, a few dozen automated Battle Servs — automated mechs, Captain Theia explained — were also spraying the sky with bolt fire.

For the moment, the combination of cannons were keeping the demon horde circling the outpost at a safe distance and on the defensive. There was little the demons could do other than dodge while awaiting certain death. I couldn’t see how they’d possibly get past our Hellstorms, which were earning their name kill after kill.

In a red

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