Brydi Gall's Origin

Brydi Gall Backstory 

Original character concept by Eric Appleton and Holierhoek

Story Concept by Eric Appleton and Avalon Holierhoek

Author: Avalon Holierhoek

Content Warning: This does contain some minor scenes that can be considered gory or intense.

Year: 2247SU // The Fall year 256

The air hung heavy with the stench of burnt earth and acrid sulfur. Each breath stung, the ruined city a testament to the relentless war that had consumed this corner of Vorgar. My squad, a grim procession of crimson armor, moved with the deliberate caution of predators through the skeletal remains of once-proud towers. Our mission: eliminate the remnants of the resistance group that had the audacity to destroy a convoy, disrupting Lord Bethal Khazakrak's plans for seizing this country. We, his chosen Death Unit, were the instruments of his wrath.

I trailed close behind First Sergeant Dakli, his figure a beacon of grim determination against the backdrop of desolation. To my left, Hoto, his eyes gleaming with predatory concentration. To my right, Fakla, his face a mask of cold indifference. Unlike my comrades, who possessed a potent reservoir of Avon, mine remained a trickle compared to the torrents flowing through them. Yet, this deficiency was offset by an uncanny accuracy with a firearm. Lord Bethal recognized the value of a skilled marksman, and thus, I found myself an anomaly within this elite unit.

Dakli's fist shot up, a silent command to halt. He growled, "We should have caught up by now. Keep your eyes peeled.”

My rifle at the ready, I scanned the debris-strewn street, each sense on high alert. The city, once a vibrant tapestry of life, was now a desolate canvas, each shadow a potential threat. The air crackled with unspoken tension, the silence broken only by the distant sounds of birds and wind rustling through the ruins.

Suddenly, movement erupted from a nearby alleyway. My rifle snapped up, the muzzle spitting fire. A crimson line traced the air, impacting the ground where the figure had stood, leaving a small scorch mark. Hoto's hand flashed, a crackling explosion erupting at the point of my initial shot.

The explosion vanished as abruptly as it appeared, revealing three Avonites bursting from the shadows. Gunfire erupted, shattering the eerie quiet. My squad scrambled for cover. I dived behind the remnants of a concrete barrier, my rifle finding its mark. A crimson line traced the air, striking the rifleman. Hoto and Fakla unleashed a torrent of crimson fire, the alleyway erupting in a symphony of explosions and crimson flashes.

I glanced at Dakli, his gaze fixed on the enemy. Ignoring the hail of returning fire, he muttered something under his breath. The gunfire abruptly ceased. I looked at the figures in the alleyway, their eyes glazed over, seemingly lost in a trance. "Mental Manipulation?" asked, my voice barely audible above the lingering echoes of the gunfire. Dakli gave a curt nod. The fighters, their will broken, had succumbed to some form of dream-like state, their aggression extinguished by Daki's unseen power.

I looked back, aiming at the soldiers to finish them of. But then the fire Avonite began to stir, the air around him shimmering with an intense heat. "That's not supposed to happen, is it?" Fakla muttered to Dakli, who spun around, his face contorted in a rare display of panic. "Eliminate it!" he roared, his voice laced with urgency.

Before my finger could even touch the trigger, a searing explosion erupted from the fire Avonite. The air around us ignited, a deafening roar filling my ears. A ferocious shockwave sent us crashing to the hard street. looked down at my left arm, now a charred mess of bone and flesh, my rifle lying a few feet away, similarly scorched and damaged.

I lay cradling the remains of my arm close to my body, my mind racing. *That must have used a massive amount of Avon,* I thought, *He's surely depleted himself now.* I glanced at the Avonite who coughed up a bit of blood before collapsing, a grim realization dawning on me. He had overtaxed his reserves, burning through his Avon and draining his life force.

Dakli was the first of my squad mates to stand, the other two struggling to their feet. He approached me, looking down at my figure on the ground as I struggled to sit up. A sickening grin spread across his face.

"I have never liked you," he hissed, his voice dripping with venom. "Now look at you, a Chaos Avonite with no Avon, and you don't even have a hand to shoot your precious little gun with." His voice was filled with a condescending tone. He then kicked my shoulder, the blow sending a jolt of pain through my already injured body. "Pathetic."

I looked at him, fear spreading across my face — he was going to surely execute me along with our targets. Before he could do anything else, I could feel my skin tingling. Dakli reacted instantly, a bolt of electricity arcing past where he had been standing. He whirled around, his eyes narrowing into slits, locking onto the source of the attack. An explosion erupted, throwing the energy Avonite back.

His eyes darted around, taking in the scene. Several more resistance members were emerging from the ruins, weapons or hands raised ready to use Avon and ready for battle. "We're leaving," he growled, his voice clipped. "Contact the Emperor. They've already killed Brydi." He didn't even spare me a glance, his voice cold and dismissive. "You're as good as dead." And with that, he turned and sprinted away, Hoto and Fakla close behind.

I looked up at the encroaching resistance soldiers, desperately trying to crawl away, my heart pounding in my chest. One approached, aiming her rifle at me. I froze, fear gripping me. A teammate placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a subtle shake of the head.

"Please help," I croaked, my voice hoarse. She looked at me, a flicker of sorrow crossing her face, before turning and walking away. "Please!" I begged again, my voice cracking. Her teammate whirled around, his face contorted in a mixture of anger and sorrow. "You're a Death Unit! How many of our kin have you killed?" he screamed, his voice filled with righteous fury. "You deserve to lay there and rot!"

His words hit me like a physical blow. He was right. I've killed countless Avonites, blindly following orders, a cog in the machine of conquest. These people weren't monsters, as the leaders of our army had portrayed them. They were Avonites, just like me, simply on the other side of the conflict. I had been the monster all along.

The resistance began to walk away, leaving me on the ground to die. I looked down at the combat knife on my hip, a grim determination settling in. I pulled the rifle close to me and ejected the magazine. It used an Avon shard to store the Chaos Avon, allowing me to fire the weapon without relying heavily on my own reserves. What little Avon I generated would be stored within the shard.

I grabbed my knife and jammed it into the crease of the magazine, breaking it open and revealing the Avon shard. I looked at my mangled arm, a wave of nausea washed through me. I tore off my belt and wrapped it tightly around the remaining portion of my arm, creating a makeshift tourniquet. Then, I used the knife to sever the remaining limb, the pain a blinding white explosion. I finished by grabbing the shard and pressing it against the fresh wound, forcing it to release its stored Avon. The searing energy burned the wound closed, a desperate act of self-preservation.

I grabbed my uniform jacket and tore it into strips, fashioning a makeshift bandage to cover the burn and a sling for my injured arm. My gaze fell upon the Chaos emblem emblazoned on the jacket, a symbol of the oppression I had unwittingly served. With a surge of defiance, I ripped it off and let it fall to the ground. The rest of the uniform I used as a makeshift shawl, offering some protection from the harsh sun.

The resistance may not care for me, but I knew I could at least help someone. I would seek refuge in the scavenger city Koru, the one the resistance had valiantly defended from the Chaos convoy. Perhaps they would offer me sanctuary, perhaps even aid. Returning to the Chaos Army was out of the question – not like this.