His banner had been flown by a thousand impostors over the centuries, all claiming to be the legend returned. They’d said he was behind the Tyronian...Purges, that he was the secret leader of the Sirian Death Cults, that he was working behind the scenes to orchestrate an endless parade of human misery. It had been a thousand years since his last confirmed sighting, but humanity still held its collective breath waiting for him to return. And here it was. The crimson fist, ascending from a. The doctor turned, then roared out, "Find that bastard! He was here, outside these chambers. Not a one of you useless THINGS, felt him. You have the combined power of all seven of you. How all of you survived, I am not sure, though if you stay like you are? We all are going to perish. Get out of my sight, you weak and useless pieces of flotsam."The collective trembled, then vanished through the ceiling at extreme speed. The doctor shook his head, at least when they died... no, There was still a. More

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