Lycan Fallout 4

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Lycan Fallout 4: Immortality’s Touchstone


Can Mike battle back from the final outcome? Now that the world needs him the most. New and old threats emerge to claim a war-ravaged world on the verge of collapse. Lana, Bailey and Azile the Red Witch have assembled all that remains of man in one final battle that could determine the fate of mankind forever. And it just might not be enough. 

PROLOGUE ONE The Green Man’s Origins

 

“WHAT IS SO special about this slab of meat?” Trinitor
asked, as he held the screaming man upside down, dangling him by his ankle over
a river of molten lava. “Nothing. He is no more important than all the other
two-legged rats…yet,” Villizen answered. He churned a small boiling pot of
gray-green gruel. Thick wet bubbles burst, plopping the heavy liquid all around
the cauldron, occasionally striking the human, causing him to shriek even
louder. Trinitor hoisted the man higher so he was staring into his face. “They
are so ugly. Did their god really make them in his image? I can see why we want
to destroy them. They have no place among us. That we are regulated to the
under-plane while these insufferable little beasts crawl all over everything on
the upper-planes is something I do not understand.”

 

“Victors can do as they please. What we are doing here today
is the first step to changing all that,” Villizen explained. “I could eat half
of this whelp in two bites.” “They do not taste good; I have tried.” “When did
you ever see a human before this?” “When Lamatsu escaped, I was sent with four
others to retrieve her. She nearly broke the covenant which would have sent us
even farther from the realm we should rightfully have inherited.” “What
happened?” “How old are you, Trinitor?” “Over two thousand earth years.” “And
yet you have learned nothing of our history?” “Who needs history? I am told to
do things and I do them.” “It is a slave’s duty to better himself so that one
day he may be more than a servant.” “In all my years, Villizen, I have never
seen you do anything but another’s bidding.”

 

“Naught can be done until the time is right. This is that
time, Trinitor. Bring the little ogre over here.” Trinitor swung the man
violently back and forth snapping his ankle and lower leg before dipping his
head into the boiling vat. The cries of pain and panic were stifled as he was
submerged into the liquid. “You need to be more careful. Four daemons died
crossing the chasm to pull him back. Get him out of the cauldron before you
cook his brain.”

 

All of the man’s hair had fallen off. Skin sloughed away
from his face, a dripping candle had more in common with the man’s features
than any current inhabitant of the plane he called home. “Can we not leave him
this way? He is almost acceptable.” Villizen reshaped the man’s face as if it
were made from clay. The nose was much flatter and the ears were pulled back
farther along his skull. Other than that, he thought he had done a reasonably
good job of putting the monster back together.

 

“Tell me again how this thing is going to help us? He barely
has enough mana to be noteworthy.” “It is not the amount of power he possesses
but rather what that power can be made to do. I have told you everything,
Trinitor. There is a way for those of us that wish it, to be free of this
place.” “I have listened, Villizen. I have listened well and what I do now, I
do for myself not you, nor your commander or our false demon.


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Author

Mark Tufo