Seattle, Washington in a warehouse by the docks.
"God's Gift" Jeremiah Vastrix and Johnny Melange are in the rafters of the building as they look down upon a massive gathering. Three beings of immense size stand by a fourth that dwarfs even them.
Aktas Atalar and his three remaining trusted champions in their bio-tech power armor suits. Around them are a few hundred of the Faithful. People who believe that Aktas and his chosen who are fitted and trained to operate the power armors are Gods created by mankind.
Power armor is a light description. These armors combine elements seemingly stolen from Iron Man, Terminator, and Warhammer 40,000 to create something ghastly. The physical capabilities and stature of the pilot are greatly increased across the board. Hidden weapons and abilities combine with top notch armor and environmental protections. The outside of the armor is living flesh, hair, and fingernails. All crafted to make the power armor seem less like armor and more of an immense being of the divine. The pilot is bonded to the armor and cannot leave it under normal circumstances. Why would they want to? The armor filters everything that comes to them, even food is broken down into needed components, and sent directly into their blood with a method to keep their hunger satiated. In essence, the pilot becomes the armor. A God of Immense Power.
AKTAS ATALAR: We have our marching orders as passed down from the President of the United States. We are to watch and wait until this Valora Salinas is defeated and removed from the public eye. We will then crush her and cast her remains across the Pacific Ocean! My faithful, do you understand? Will you help your Gods attend to their mission?
Jeremiah closes his good eye as he reels from the roaring from the crowd. Mad people utterly devoted to a false god.
Johnny elbows Jeremiah in the ribs, speaking plainly to try to be heard over the chaos below.
JOHNNY MELANGE: You think this lot will leave here and then go see if they can find a church for the Chilean Blob to worship the bit of rotting whale fat? That's what your upcoming tag team partner worships.
Jeremiah just shrugs, looking down at the congregation below.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I never understood why these people would put their faith in such beings. Being involved with the Warhammer Corporation my entire life has led me to seeing strange things that defy normal explanations. People that have described themselves as Gods, but I give my worship to none.
Johnny watches the proceedings as the Gods begin to pronounce "blessings" upon the gathered host.
JOHNNY MELANGE: It's all a really fascinating study when you think about it. There is literally a religion for everything, even now. The pretend gods down below are blessing their congregation with a blend of blessings from the Catholic Church, white magic spells from Wiccans, and Shinto blessings. All of it's bullshit.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: This isn't going to stand. I won't have these fake gods trying to take out...is she my rival?
JOHNNY MELANGE: She's kicked your butt at every meeting.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: My better then. Either way, they need to be stopped now. Let's unpack the sniper rifle.
As Jeremiah and Johnny begin to open a duffle bag containing the pieces of the sniper rifle to put together, Wimizaus the Eternal (otherwise known as Aktas Atalar) looks up to their location. Of course they would have amplified hearing as well as everything else.
AKTAS ATALAR: We have enemies amongst us! Capture them, my faithful!
JOHNNY MELANGE: We might want to hurry with this.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Keep working. I have this.
Johnny nods and continues to work on the rifle while Jeremiah stands to look down upon the assembled crowd.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Wait! Nobody move! I seem to have dropped my contact lense! Can anyone find it?
Jeremiah flips up his eyepatch to reveal a milky white sphere in place of the cybernetic socket. He plucks the squishy sphere out and calmly drops it to the floor below. He flips the eyepatch back into place as the crowd of worshippers all move out of the way from the item.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Or maybe it's an eyeball I've dropped. Whatevs. Can you get it for me?
There is a ladder not far from where the "eye" landed, but no one seems to be willing to get close enough to the eye to climb the ladder. Aktas shakes his head, certainly angry now.
AKTAS ATALAR: Trukord the Nightmare! Rise up and show these cowards how one captures the enemies of the Gods!
Johnny hands Jeremiah the sniper rifle, who takes aim as Trukord launches himself into the air with the aid of a rocket pack. Johnny connects a loop of a bungee cord hooked to a harness to the girder that they are squatting on.
JOHNNY MELANGE: Is it really a good idea to fire a gun this powerful when in a position like this?
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Absolutely not. The problems with these icons of faith is that things fall apart when the Gods are revealed as frauds.
Jeremiah fires the rifle, the recoil sending him off of the girder. The shot strikes the fuel cell of the rocket pack and explodes, driving Trukord straight down into the crowd of followers where it becomes hard to tell from the flailing mass of crushed bodies of who is bleeding.
Truckord the Nightmare stands up quickly, but the followers who can recoil, do so at the sight of the nightmarish metallic exoskeleton.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: See the true nature of your “gods”! Men wrapped in machines!
Aktas Atalar keeps his eyes upon the dangling Jeremiah Vastrix, his anger bared to the world as his followers began to flee.
AKTAS ATALAR: Exterminate everyone who doesn’t bow down in worship.
Screams begin as the fellow gods of Aktas begin slaughtering the followers. Aktas himself begins to rise into the air as if he were always meant to be there. He “stands” in front of Jeremiah, no thrust in sight from his twenty foot tall frame. Jeremiah doesn’t have to work hard to take aim with the rifle.
AKTAS ATALAR: Do it. Show everyone assembled here what your actions against one such as I amount to.
Jeremiah fires the weapon. The bullet seems to fly in slow motion as it crumples against the chest of Aktas’ chest, not even damaging the clothing.
Down below has become a scene of carnage as those who have survived the initial onslaught have fallen upon their knees in the hopes of being granted mercy for their fealty. Some are even granted it.
JOHNNY MELANGE: Jeremiah, I think we’re fucked.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Right? Wimizaus the Eternal? We’d like to surrender. Johnny’s my agent and I have a match coming up. You know? The President would be sad if the son of one of his staunchest allies is killed.
Aktas grins wide at Jeremiah’s use of his Godly name. He reaches out and flips up Jeremiah’s eyepatch to reveal the empty cybernetic eye socket.
AKTAS ATALAR: Oh, I won’t be killing you. I have been in contact with Mr. Mudcock and he has such plans for you. Valora Salinas and her little protege will suffer for their defiance.
Yes, this is the worst of times to be a smartass...or is it the best time?
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: You know that I have a tag team partner and about four other opponents as well as Valora?
Aktas flicks a single finger against the side of Jeremiah’s jaw, knocking him out. He looks casually up to Johnny, who puts his hands into the air right away.
JOHNNY MELANGE: We are very sorry for the inconvenience we have caused you.
AKTAS ATALAR: You and Jeremiah belong to me now.
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