Multex looked from 6400 to Prism to Vector. "Well…it's better than nothing.." he thought, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen. He wrote on the paper for a minute, then stuck it on a jagged piece of metal on the wall in plain sight. It read:
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Guys,
Tex here. We have to defeat the bosses of the four spires to get the keycards to Havering's chamber. 6400, Prism, Vector, and myself have chosen the one to the front left, so each of you split into four and take the others. The last spire should be the roughest, so take all the remainders. If you run out of people, or it takes too long, I shall try to be along to assist. Remember, God's speed, and here's to hopin we can pull this off. I have a bad feelin about it for myself. Well, luck, and happy trails forging through the spires!
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Multex admired his handiwork, then sprinted down the corridor for the destination. The others followed. When all was quiet, a pair in a blue mask and a red mask appeared. "Do you feel that?" Malus asked. Spiite nodded. "Yes. Determination. They are set on taking Havering down. Do you think the can win?" Malus shook his head. "Possibly, but I doubt many can stand up to Sir Pseudo Havering. Say...what's this?" Malus asked, spotting a piece of paper. After reading it, he laughed. Spiite looked over. "What? What's so funny?" Malus chuckled. "That crew is headed for our spire!" Spiite snickered, folding his arms. "Pretty dogged bunch."
Malus pulled out a shiny metal keycard. "They must REALLY want this!" he guffawed, pocketing it. Spiite snickered. "Oh, you heard the news?" Malus looked over. "What's that?" "Old Pyrak has been holdin out. He has an entirely moree powerful form, and with the IGS enhancements, it makes me tremble just to imagine the power!" Malus nodded. "True, but when it comes to the nitty-gritty of magik, WE reign supreme!"
Spiite smirked behind the mask, nodding. "Well...hate to ruin this, but the spire should only take em a half hour to do, so we should get going." Malus nodded, and with a blue flash, the two had vanished.
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Outside, Markior was having problems with the main guns. He fought them off valiantly, but there seemed to be too many. Without warning, though, the guns shut off. Markior was about to rejoice when he saw Havering sitting on one of the turrets, applauding. "Bra-VO, Protoss! You've made the first cut." The Markior snarled at Havering. The demon brushed aside a lock of hair, shrugging. "I see my toy has been giving you a hard time, but now I shall end your pitiful fight." With that, Havering drew his sickle. Markior formed his Psi-Blade and the two lunged. They struggled with their weapons for a minute, Pseudo snickering.
"Feeling a bit tired, Executor? I took the liberty of activating the draining process as our blades clashed. You should be as weakened as that other lizard god now!" Markior growled, noticing for the first time the faint black glow around him and Pseudo. With a roar, he pushed against Havering's blade. The Twilighter was flung back in the air, head over heels. He righted himself and glared. "You, your lizard friends, and that pawn of a villain, Ulrejaz will soon meet your ends. We Twilighters are the peak of evolution thus far! I look forward to exterminating you all." He grinned, then added. "Besides...only one of you knows how to land a hit on me. I'm not the least bit scared. I'll simply kill him first. Until later, farewell, eternal grey putz."
With those words, Havering vanished in a burst of black fire, and the guns did not reactivate.