Ultimate Hot War Battle (Book 2 The Last Nukyi)

The Last Nukyi: Ultimate Hot War Battle

by

Paul J. Bagnell

Smashwords Edition

* * * * *

Published By

Paul J. Bagnell on Smashwords

The Last Nukyi: Ultimate Hot War Battle

This ebook-in-publication data/copy is on file with the Library of Congress.

ISBN: 978-0-9866159-3-1

Copyright 2013/TM by Paul J. Bagnell

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

*****

The Last Nukyi

Book Two

Ultimate Hot War Battle

TABLE OF CONTENTS

SEGMENT TWO: THE BEYOND MIND-CRASH

C22: DROPPED INTO A GIANT’S NEST

C23: A GOOD HUFON AND I’M OUT

C24: ALMOST SEEMS NORMAL

C25: POUR ME ANOTHER CODAVAR

SEGMENT THREE: THE ULTIMATE HOT WAR BATTLE

C26: DOWNWARD CONTROL

C27: SHIP OR STAY

C28: FUGITIVE FOR BREAKFAST

C29: ESCAPE MIGHTY DRONT

C30: WELCOME MERLESS DROSS

C31: MEDICATE MY MALFUNCTION

C32: PLEASE CHANGE THE PAST

C33: REDEEMED WITH FATE

C34: STOP THE COUNTDOWN

C35: TOM’S RETURN

SEGMENT TWO: BEYOND MINDCRASH

Chapter 22: DROPPED INTO A GIANT’S NEST

Dropped into the turbulent pull of the wild beyond, Tom Bronze plunged helplessly through a vortex of dimensional sewer and rematerialised in the realm of an unclean world. He was falling in a tumbling manner at an unfathomable rate through a violent thunder storm, which shocked the air with lively flashes of spidery light that stretched from the cancerous landscape to the tainted burnt sky where the bitter winds circulated noxious gatherings of black char high into the stewed atmosphere. Heavy smoke rose from the unholy ground, which wore a sick discoloured veneer and mortified any blossom of life. There were no signs of human development or, for that matter, life of any origin--as far as he could tell. It was a place of death and hell where no entity wished to go and be judged.

Tom braced himself into the wind for an unpleasant impact and flexed his swollen, inhuman muscles and prayed once in his self-induced deprived existence that this was just an awkward dream sequence created by his debilitated mind and that he’d awaken before crashing to the bedroom floor. His selfish prayers weren’t embraced. He crashed to the surface in a thud and lay face down unbroken but afraid of the wicked truth. The air was as morbid as he was, and that worried him a lot.

Aaaaahhhhh, Tom roared and thrust up his head. His chiselled muscular shoulders followed sequence as he pried his torso from the baked crust and was barely able to withstand the sweltering heat melting into his anxiety-moistened epidermis. He staggered to an upright balance and regained his rubberized legs and explored the ungodly place.

Tom realized that his new existence was stranger than his current life. He gazed curiously at the smouldering surroundings. Where in damnation is this place? he mumbled and held his throbbing temples. He had an eerie feeling about this world. Seconds ago he was strapped to a chair staring down the barrel end of Remmie’s pistol. Now he was grossly freed of that failed episode. He ran his tingly fingers over his tingly neck to feel the severity of his mortal injury; but there was no wound, no blood, only strong, hard flesh. This is too weird, he said confused; this can’t be possible. He tried to stop thinking about Remmie Take and that fatal bullet--the one which introduced him to this unbeknownst yet infinite journey. He then redirected his wandering attention to Ferronkus and Exsorbo; it was only a matter of time before either one would come for him. Tom regretfully anticipated Lord of Figure would arrive first and get the hell-bell show on the road.

Tom brushed his hair away from his eyes. This would be an ideal world to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live here on a regular basis, he mumbled, as he was addressing his slouchy shadow, which lay flat on the sweltering floor and mocked his every move. He brushed his earthly clothes clean and continued to investigate the damned, godforsaken soulless world. He gazed into the dark thoughtless sky and wondered what happened to his so-called happily married life. Here he was stuck in the twisted void between here and nowhere. He thought if he had fixed his worthless expectations a year ago, that things would be different. His wife would have a committed husband, and his children would have a caring father, who absolutely adores them. Tom thinks he is trapped in a disturbed limbo with no one to blame but himself; however, he believes that things happen for the best reasons and that he will have to trust his unstable instincts. He puts his critical thoughts to rest and forges onward.

Is there anybody out there, Tom called repeatedly, his hands cupped to his face. His voice travelled across the hellish landscape and returned in a garble of reverberating echoes until finally a faint familiar tone alerted him. The strong voice startled him, and he spun around with the speed of a great Nukyi as Exsorbo stepped into this world via a dimensional portal. A greenish mist belched from the tunnel’s mouth and dissipated into the heat-polluted atmosphere.

Thrond, Exsorbo said and extended his hand toward Tom, a gesture of friendship, we don’t have much time before he comes for you.

You mean Ferronkus--right? Tom asked with a deep concern in his cracked voice.

Yes. We must prepare for his arrival. The Master of Evils is on the move, Exsorbo replied as he strode toward the human with hands clinched, and a power radiated from his fist. I can feel an energy collecting as if the demons of this world are summoning him into battle.

Tom’s eyes followed a light storm in the distant sky. What do you want me to do?

Just remain calm and collected. When that time arrives, I will take care of Ferronkus’s battle demands, Exsorbo admitted with confidence.

I hope so because I’ve been having a very lousy week.

Exsorbo watched the dead sky. Do not worry. This matter is fully under my dominant control; and we will escape this place in one piece, never again to witness this doomed sky.

Tom rolled his eyes as if he had heard that story before. So, where are we, somewhere caught in a time warp? he asked curiously.

There’s no time to explain the unreliable intricacies of this beyond world, Exsorbo replied. Later, your true destiny and mission will be unveiled; and you will be fully informed as to what is expected of you. Exsorbo lowered his determined fist. The sky had changed from a washed-out orange to villainous black, a sign that evil was near. He and his replicated followers are nearing; I can smell the oily stench in the air.

You mean those bag-of-tar clones, Tom said jokingly, that the evil guy carries around in his armpits?

Do not underestimate his army of battle servants, which, I’m sure, Ferronkus will pleasantly unleash, Exsorbo said and stared at Tom with an eyeful of intensity, which, seemingly, radiated from his narrowing eyes.

The air had become heavy and black with smoke, and there was a rotten odour that seemed to be festering from the active sky.

Do you hear it? Exsorbo said. (There was a trashing, beastly tone that echoed from high above.)

Tom looked into the blackened heavens.

It is he, Exsorbo said confidently. Whatever Ferronkus says or does, he remains composed. If you show him a sprig of fear, then there’s no way I’ll be able to save you.

Then let’s leave this place now, and we don’t have to kiss his ugly face goodbye.

That is impossible.

Why?

I control the gate in; he controls the gate out. It is Line-Cross. We meet in the middle; then we do battle.

Don’t worry about me, Tom said reassuringly. If battle must be done, I can handle that big overgrown master of ego.

He is unbounded. He will be more detestable and many times stronger than the strongest of evils, Exsorbo replied as he stared up into the dark yonder.

Flaming balls of energy bombed the surface and caused the ground to quake and break apart as fresh smoke invaded the air and fiery ash blanketed the landscape.

Exsorbo cast an energy-net over the human to protect him from the flying debris.

Tom felt Ferronkus’s raw demonic presence. It was that same uncomfortable sensation he experienced at McBridle’s house so he was certain there would be another eventful confrontation between him and this pompous evildoer.

From high above, an oversized winged creature with a metallic armoured body and what appeared to be a two-handed long sword held outstretched flew across the thunderous sky. Lord of Figure fully extended his formulated wings and took flight like an untameable, prehistoric beast of prey swooping in for a feast.

Remember what I told you, Exsorbo called as he fused his hands together in an outstretched manner to absorb the excessive amount of energy emitted by Ferronkus that fuelled a fiery streak in the sky.

Tom looked away as the heller crossed overhead. The master demon’s vile presence struck the surface and produced a plume of debris and a rancid spray of black fluid; a huge pool of body slur melted onto the ground and seeped beneath the flaming ash.

Where’s he gone? Tom said as he fisted through the curtain of smoke prepared for a surprise attack.

He’s here, Exsorbo said; stay clear of his lawless bite.

There was absolute silence except for the sparking of cinders escaping the ground to the air.

Ferronkus levitated from the glowing ash and transformed from a tar-like gel into a well-formed armoured body until he stood seven-plus feet. He extended a heavy two-handed sword like a weightless pointing instrument (which appeared at least five feet in length and bloodstained and made of razor-sharp steel) with one graceless hand gesture; then he popped open his glazed eyes and looked at his opposition. Nukyi, I see you have come to celebrate your new beginnings, Ferronkus said with a thick, demonic voice.

There’s not going to be any new beginnings today, Exsorbo replied, as he pulled Tom back from Lord of Figure’s tricky reach.

Ferronkus seemed amused by Exsorbo’s fatherly concern as he stomped closer. The polished armour that covered his two-ton muscular torso caused the ground to settle with each monstrous step he took.

I see you have been brawling again, Exsorbo noticed; which Nukyi was it this time?

Ferronkus sneered arrogantly as he rammed the blade into the crusty soil. Your unworthy playmate got lucky, he said as he squeezed the temporary metal repair clamp at the base of his skull horn. This time, he laughed boisterously, I will make zero errors in judgment and claim my victory.

Exsorbo seemed impressed with Tom’s budding combat skills and called across the way. He is good; as he glanced back to Tom; no, he is the best; that is why he is the last of his genetically created kind. His eyes reconnected with Ferronkus as he said, Be smart and withdraw your foolish demands for his mortal soul.

Stop with the amusement; I have first claim to this young Nukyi, Ferronkus snapped and snarled his sharp, dripping wet teeth at the genetic oddity.

If you want me, come and get me, Tom shouted across the contaminated air. I neutralized you once, as he held up his fists, so fork over an earthbound ticket; and I’ll bet you I can do it again.

Ferronkus yanked the blade from the baked ground and commenced to manoeuvre the weapon in a striking, rhythmic fashion. To harness the immense powers of the Nukyi, I must possess all of them. I am the strongest evil in this dimension; and the only evildoer able to control this universal, cosmic power. He held up the tip of the soiled blade and locked his energy-swollen hands around the cold hilt of the tall sword. Fibrous strands of pure, unnatural muscle tissue bulged outwards from his arms and armoured shoulders as he wielded the double-edged immortal slaying tool from one dexterous hand to the other with flawless motions intended to display his effective abilities for slaying his opponents.

Tom commanded a rich assortment of all the fighting abilities gifted to the Nukyi Salients and prepared for the terror contest.

I’ll take care of his perpetual nuisance, Exsorbo said as he stepped in front of Tom.

Ferronkus’s battle roar caused the sky to vomit chunks of flaming debris. I am the most powerful evil ever conceived, and no force here or beyond can stop me, he growled with pride. He stared at Tom with inflamed eyes as he held the gleaming blade outstretched. You will be that one prize I’ve longed to possess; then I will harness all that is or will be. It will be mine to command for a hell-bent, millennium of eternities.

Exsorbo was in human form. He barely stood five-feet-ten and weighed one-hundred eighty pounds, Tom estimated; Exsorbo was no match for Ferronkus; however, he attempted to step into the lopsided challenge.

Thrond/Tom, my Nukyi friend, do not worry, Exsorbo said. This isn’t a matter of physical mass. I possess as much strength as Ferronkus; it is an illusion that your humanly trained perception makes it appear uneven.

Enough games, Ferronkus called, and removed the payly power stick clipped to his belt and held up the mended tip toward the dark sky. His other hand gripped the hilt of the repaired sword. His powerful arms coordinated the two weapons, masterfully clanging them together to ignite a charge of energy, which mushroomed into an umbrella-like cloud of soft light. Nukyi, remember this, first you PAY, then you LIE breathless, Ferronkus shouted; this time I will not fall.

Whatever you say, nut-ball, Tom replied contemptuously.

Ferronkus laughed. I’ve enhanced the immobilization effect of the stick; it is now many times more powerful. One hot dig of the tip and your tender muscles will become cooked mush. Ferronkus laughed in a sinful tone as he launched forward to cause interdimensional havoc.

The payly stick emitted sparks of energy and snapped with light flares as Ferronkus waved it with ruling authority.

Tom’s heart pounded like it was going to split; the tension was unbearable. Exsorbo seemed to be no match for this beastly mutation.

My young Nukyi, this is for the last time, Ferronkus roared as he pressed his bulky hand on the skinny metal strap that held his tar-cemented horn in place.

Shut up! Come and get me; that is, if you think you’re ready, Tom shouted with pumped emotions.

Exsorbo signalled the human quiet. Do not communicate with him because he will try to break your spirit.

Like the other space soldiers, your Nukyi head is mine, Ferronkus taunted. His solid body armour shifted as he advanced; (the steel created a cling-clanging tone) the heavy burden of the armour slowed his natural pace, which increased his giant temper.

Tom backed away carefully but stayed close enough to view the detailed etchings on the dark master’s chromium chest plate, which had Su-Tog-Po lettered on it, highlighted by a large winged creature with Ty-Ko stamped on its beastly forehead.

Ferronkus and Exsorbo stood facing each other with their eyes fixed in a daring stare.

Give him to me, and I’ll spare you, Ferronkus promised.

No, it can’t be done; and you know that, Exsorbo replied with a blank facial expression.

Ferronkus was breathing like a snorting bull under the weight of the armour and temper. Then feel my battle heat, he roared, as he pointed the blade upwards, tapping the energy from the endless night. A force from above surged through the steel and was absorbed into his evil blood. His eyes glowed red with a hellish rage, and his strained neck muscles bulged with vein popping tension. He lowered the long blade, apparently ready for battle. Exsorbo, it’s always a headache to see you again, my uncorrupted brother and since we cannot agree, we must ultimately do war.

Exsorbo stood his ground. Aren’t you getting tired of your own lean-witted games?

The evildoer laughed. I should have destroyed you when we were both young, he admitted.

But you didn’t so live with it, Exsorbo replied defiantly and backed away.

Exsorbo, what’s next--other then doing battle?" Tom whispered forward.

According to the laws of this dimensional wasteland, he cannot cross the line drawn in front of us, Exsorbo replied over his shoulder.

What line? Tom wondered, confused.

I’m the line, Exsorbo replied, in a strong voice. It is you whom Ferronkus wants, but he must defeat me in order to get to you; therefore, before we can leave this world, the battle must begin, and we must initiate it.

Why did he call you brother? Tom said silently.

There was a time long ago when good and evil were complimenting entities. Any memory of that agreement has all been forgotten, Exsorbo replied, as if trying to remember that forbidden era. Tom, you cannot see Ferronkus as I see him. You see me as human; in reality, I’m not what you perceive me to be. I am like him with powers just as potent and wicked.

What are you talking about? Tom asked as he tried to comprehend.

Exsorbo reached out his hand and touched Tom’s arm. Deep in your mind lies the secret about which Ferronkus has spoken. The most dangerous weapon a Nukyi Salient can possess is the key to Line-Cross. It is what makes you special; safeguard it, and never let it escape your mind; then Exsorbo transformed into The Be-Ing as Ferronkus charged forward with his massive hands guiding the two-handed sword in battle mode.

Ferronkus and The Be-Ing clashed like veteran combatants. The Be-Ing’s arms were thick like cast-iron water mains. Ferronkus pounded his blade against The Be-Ing’s protective exterior trying to weaken its unwoundable defences. The evil master’s blade sparked with bolts of energy upon each blow; and with each powerful strike, the force caused the ground to heave upward in places.

Ferronkus wielded the blade over his horned head to maximize his attack force as he struck The Be-Ing again and again.

The Be-Ing fought back hard, striking its antagonistic brother with heavy blows to the neck and chest and crushed his foe into the hard ground.

Ferronkus rose from the crater-like impression; he backed away from the beyond entity with a playful smirk, as if catching his wit; then he thrust the blade skywards and cried out Ty Ko. The words echoed into the beyond--then faded into silence. Ferronkus stood there as if he were waiting for additional support.

The Be-Ing’s face had an obscured profile so it was difficult for Tom to determine exactly how drained of life the freakish gooder was. But The Be-Ing’s monstrous body was showing signs of weakening as energy whips emitted upwards, as if trying to capture power from the sky--just as Ferronkus had--Tom knew then that time was of the essence.

When the dust settled a few seconds later, the battlers stood apart. Ferronkus rested his hand on the hilt of his sword with the blade embedded in the ground. His eyes were like the colour of coal, and his skin tone was beginning to match his pupils. Surrender now or suffer the wrath of my invincible bite, Ferronkus snarled.

The Be-Ing crunched a reply Surrender not; bring me your best war.

Ferronkus roared with unrelenting determination Cro Ku and eyed Tom; you are next, my Nukyi delight.

A vigorous wind swooped down from the demonic sky and encased Ferronkus in a whirlwind of energy. The evildoer laughed out loud; it sounded like nuclear thunder. He raised his massive arms like he was going to reveal something deadly. His grotesque powers had spilled forth four roman-like gladiators. They stepped from behind Ferronkus, as if they were created from him; each stepped forward and separated; now there were eight battle slaves with blades who lined up in front of their evil master. Their body armour was covered with a black tar-like substance that oozed from their exteriors onto the ground. These pests, as Tom remembered, were the same lifeless entourage that he had previously encountered; only this time there were more of them.

Tom’s eyes were full with worry. Now, he was nervous; Exsorbo wouldn’t be able to handle this cloned army. He motioned forward but The Be-Ing demanded him back as Ferronkus trotted out his gladiators.

Did you think I would challenge you alone? The master of evils laughed as he inspected his loyal attackers.

The Be-Ing turned away from the horned beast; he was now facing the human. You must stay back out of the reach of their blades.

Tom strengthened up. We must win this unfair bout. To do that, I must help you smash this evil bonehead and his army of battle buddies into the next world.

No, you are too important to risk injury; just stay back, and do as I say, The Be-Ing crunched its torso; then went forward.

Ferronkus ordered his clones to surround The Be-Ing. He pointed toward key positions he wanted each gladiator to control.

Tom, don’t worry, The Be-Ing called out, these fighting concoctions won’t attack you; they must demolish me before they can get to you; but if they do, defend yourself, as I know you are capable of doing.

That’s a refreshing reminder, Tom whispered as he observed Lord of Figure, who appeared to be directing the attack strategy.

Ferronkus roared a command Su-Tog, and confronted The Be-Ing. His breath was foul, his neck muscles bubbled from beneath the body armour; and steaming moisture rolled down the front of his leathery face. There is only one way out; you know the rules.

The Be-Ing nodded and agreed; you must follow them this time.

Ferronkus signalled an order; eight blades rose from the ground as each of the six-foot-tall clones navigated a forward motion.

There was a thunderous hellfire brewing in the distance, and the ground smoked as the battle set in.

The fighters wielded their blades repetitively as they circled into fighting positions.

Ferronkus placed his hands on the hilt of the sword and withdrew the shaft from the ground. He held it up and blew the fine dust grains from the double-edged blade. Ty-Ku, Ferronkus grunted, down with your virtue.

The fighters reacted automatically and wielded their swords in a crisscross, choppy pattern.

The Be-Ing immediately struck back and converted its powerful pipe-like arms into destructive weapons. Both hands were transformed into solid spiked balls that dangled from three feet of iron chain. The sounds of toppled body armour echoed into the heated air as The Be-Ing battled the clones. The gooder whirled a flurry of deadly shots at the first line of immortal fighters. Soon, three spellbinders lay on the ground, destroyed. The Be-Ing retreated for a moment; then he attacked again, smashing the pronged orbs into the chest of one and through the helmet of another. The fighters’ swords crossed The Be-Ing’s massive body and cracked the outer layer of rocklike sheathing, which caused an oily fluid to seep out as another sword was rammed into The Be-Ing’s open wound and thrust through its armoured body.

The remaining three duplicate clones attacked. Their blades cut through the air in a whirling formation. Ferronkus followed behind them. He ordered his servants to sever The Be-Ing into two halves.

The Be-Ing rocked two more clones with a giant swipe of the spiked balls; two more battlers dropped to the ground and were absorbed like the others into Ferronkus while the last attacker stood idle behind his evil mentor and waited for instructions.

Give up and I’ll let you survive, Ferronkus shouted across to The Be-Ing.

I will never surrender to a hell-worm like you, The Be-Ing snarled.

Still the stubborn one of the family, he said as he drew his payly power stick. Now that we had our fun, the real battle will commence, Ferronkus bellowed and ordered the last gladiator to strike.

The clone charged toward The Be-Ing; the evil junior blazed a path through the dust as smoke partially screened his advance.

The Be-Ing transformed the spiked balls into a piston-like device that had a blade and hook attached at the end. Each hand had become a more deadly weapon than before. One swipe would dismember the attacker. The Be-Ing pumped the weapon outwardly, and the hook was embedded in the clone’s neck; the blade cleanly decapitated the fighter.

Ferronkus’s skin bubbled as the tar-like fluid from the clone was absorbed back into his body. His eyes burned with fire as he snarled with his teeth jutting outwards. He swung the payly stick as he attacked The Be-Ing. The stick crossed The Be-Ing’s body several times; the cosmic heat caused The Be-Ing to convert its arms back into its original pipe-like configurations.

The Be-Ing, although weakened, was still strong; he grabbed the payly stick as Ferronkus struck, and he snapped it in two pieces. The stick surged with air-rippling energy; then it exploded with a burst of fire.

Ferronkus backed away as he touched the metal strap that held his horn in place; then he drew his two-handed sword.

The Be-Ing flexed its sheathed body, and hundreds of pointed flanks amassed from beneath its rocky exterior.

If you can be sharp and pointy, Ferronkus shouted, so can I. Dozens of spikes popped out from his skin and body armour. Ferronkus approached and said, The fun is over. I’m ready to crunch you into fine gravel, he warned, and wielded his blade. He attacked with a flurry of blade-pounding strikes that hammered The Be-Ing’s torso; the razor steel cut along The Be-Ing’s chest and arms, and the force severed many of the deadly protrusions that protected its body. It’s over; you’ve lost.

The Be-Ing hobbled upright, The end is not concluded, he said and continued the fight.

Ferronkus laughed; the sky rumbled, and the ground shook as he prepared to finish the job. There is no end; only your infinite death, then he ran the blade through his opponent’s immortal chest; a blast of electrified energy escaped the wound and shot into the illuminated air.

The