Perelli stumbled forward in utter darkness, his surroundings were entirely pitch black extending unto infinity. The pain subsided, but it was still there. He could atleast think. He looked around, looking for anyone, anything. But it was empty. The only sound was his breathing.

  "Am I dead?" He thought, except it he heard the thought aloud, outside of his skull. The words reverberated off of unseen surfaces.

  But no, he could not be dead. He knew what that felt like. It was warm, bright. There was no pain, only a washing sensation. Being enveloped by the light felt like a stone had been taken from ones back that he had been carrying a hundred years.

  This did not feel like that. It was cold. He still hurt. He was wearing his Freikorps armor. he could feel the pulse in his heart and the rush of blood in his ears.

  "Where am I?" he thought, but not thought, as the words reverberated aloud.

  Then suddenly, a slithering noise. The pain inside him worsened. Tentacles, black and oily emerged from the darkness beneath his feet. Before he could react, they wrapped around his legs and gripped tight, preventing him from moving. He reached for his knife only to find the sheathe empty.

  "Shhhhh," A noise made by a mouth not his own. "You haven't anything to fear."

  A figure emerged from the darkness ahead of him. He winced at the pain it caused for him to look at it. It was grotesque. A dozen eyes of many different kinds opened. Beneath them a wide maw of sharp jagged teeth. The darkness formed around the edge of he face like shrink-wrap.

  "A curious case. A wonderous case you are." It said him with the mouth which lacked a tongue, only rows of teeth extending infinitely. "You're soul burns brightly."

  "Who are you?" Perelli demanded.

  "I am not a person." It answered. Its voice was deep and monotone, but had a gurgling inflection.

  "Then what are you called?"

  "I am known by many names. Some have called me slayer, mutator, corrupter, void eater. Your species calls me the Black Sun."

  Perelli shuddered and his blood ran cold as he realized what he was talking to.

  "I have infiltrated your mind. A curious thing you are, Michael Perelli."

  "Why? What do you want with me?"

  It took a few seconds to respond. Its tentacles probed forth from the darkness, studying him. He inched away as much he could when they came near. "Nothing."

  Perelli raised an eyebrow, not understanding.

  "You are beneath my attention. But... your soul has been exposed. Not by me." It explained. "That is why you are a curious construct. I see marks upon you, mortal. A soul nearly ripped from its vessel. Damaged in the process. An easy vector. My own curiosity was... peaked."

  "Release me." Perelli forcefully demanded.

  "It is too late for that. The demon Eclipsion has altered you. It would be irresponsible to waste it." It said.

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  Perelli grew more concerned.

  It continued, "A soul of the light, once touched by death and brought back. I have never seen such a thing in all my millennia."

  "Are you the devil, a demon?"

  The darkness laughed all around him. "You're petty extradimensional patrons are beneath me. I feast on them. I have consumed far more powerful beings on countless worlds."

  "What are you? What do you want with humanity?" Perelli wits were returning. He elected to keep it talking.

  "I am a being beyond your comprehension. My purposes for your world are many. Not you, not the light, not your angel, not the parlor tricks your Vanguard produces can stop me. I am a being beyond your dimensions and reality."

  Perelli didn't know what it meant by angel.

  "I do have purpose for you, Michael Perelli of humanity. I have never corrupted a soul such as yours. I think I would like to view your world through mortal eyes and see to its corruption."

  Perelli sneered. "Isn't that what the vampires are for?"

  It laughed again. "My own parlor tricks. They know not what they fight for. Their purpose is to sow my seeds. They think they fight for a dark world where they reign eternal... and they will find eternity, as my nourishment.

  "Now, as I was saying. I demand your soul and flesh." It opened its maw wide. "Your consciousness will become mine!" It surged forward.

  Perelli braced for a moment that did not come. Inches from him, the face was stopped in its tracks. A shield formed in front of him. Interlocking hexagonal shapes formed a grid that it bounced off of.

  The Black Sun snarled. "What is this?"

  "I made a realization." He said, smiling with a hint of mania. He couldn't believe it had worked. "You said, you invaded my mind. So that's where we are." Perelli said with growing confidence. "In my mind, I rule."

  "You mind is mine!" It charged at him again. Again it bounced off of a shield of light. It recoiled in pain.

  Perelli felt the tentacles holding him weaken. He shifted his boot and crushed them. Freeing himself.

  "I beg to differ. If I'm in my mind, then my imagination rules. Like you said, my soul burns brightly." Perelli turned to see several objects appear and then disappear as he attempted to will them into existence. It took a few tries. He concentrated on his memory and finally found something solid.

  Another figure emerged from the darkness. It was a soldier in a Brodie helmet. A bolt-action M1917 Springfield in his hands.

  The metal of his M1917 helmet caught an impossible glint of light that shouldn't exist in the darkness. His uniform was torn and soaked in ancient mud, trench-soil from a century ago still clinging to the folds of his olive drab tunic. His puttees were fresh, but boots cracked and worn from miles of hard marching across no-man's-land. A bayonet hung at his side.

  The soldier's eyes glowed faintly. Not with supernatural fire, but something older, resolve.

  Perelli studied him as they came face-to-face. The advanced cutting edge armor adorned in the Shark Eater's maw contrasted greatly with the simple Great War attire. "Damn, I can't believe I used to face machinegun fire in only that."

  From behind him, shadows stirred and took form. More soldiers marched forth from the darkness, boots echoing against the void. One wore a Marine Corps trench coat with the faded emblem of the 2nd Division; another bore the scars of gas, his mask slung at his side, his face pockmarked and burned but eyes still steady. A big Buffalo Soldier appeared beside them, calm and proud, clutching a Chauchat machinegun silently. One by one, they emerged—Americans of every corner of the republic. Not ghosts, not illusions. Memories, ideals, fragments of valor and pain Perelli had conjured from the memory of his spirit.

  Their uniforms bore different insignias. Some had Croix de Guerre pinned crookedly on their chests. Others wore no medals at all. But all of them radiated the same flame. Soulfire, bright and immaculate.

  The Black Sun hesitated, its writhing form seething against the incorruptible light.

  “What... is this?” it snarled, voice less confident now.

  Perelli stepped forward, his breath fogging the air with each word. “These are the ones who never broke.” He glanced back at them. "I suppose I never could let go of them. But its good to have them here."

  He looked to them, and they nodded, silent yet unified.

  Perelli’s voice dropped, quiet and hard. “You wanted to see the world through my eyes, Black Sun? Then let me show you what humanity does when threatened."

  He reached down and picked up a rifle that hadn’t been there a moment ago. It was familiar—his old service weapon. Clean. The scope was spotless and lovingly maintained.

  The soldiers raised their weapons in unison. One snapped a bayonet into place. Another lit a cigarette that glowed like a star. They didn't shout, didn't cheer. There was no need.

  "You came to the wrong planet."