Wrath of the Wolf King

Gusts of cool air blew against his body, as he pressed bare skin against the stone. He rubbed his fingers across the inscriptions, the names. Those lost to the Ascension, like him. He was one of the lucky ones, the few who were able to return. His brother placed a cold, metallic hand on his shoulder.
“FACTUS…” Spoke Ares, a mighty Formis warrior clad in gold.
Factus turned to face him, his old comrade in arms. One who had stood waiting for him all this time, never once giving up hope. He was glad to see Ares, for it had been some time.
“I CAN FEEL SOMETHING. BE ON YOUR GUARD.”
The Wolf-King lifted his axe, scanning the area around him. He could feel it too. He and Ares huddled together into a small formation, their watchful eyes covering their entire perimeter. He remembered fighting like this, many years ago. Both with Ares, and others. It seemed neither of them had lost their touch.
“Two, North-East. They are trying to hide.” Spoke Factus, softly. He smelled the wind, and was disgusted. A foul stench wafted into his nostrils, like rotting flesh and stomach acid. He knew the smell well. “They are Shadow-Spawn. Do not take them lightly, and do not let any escape.”
“OF COURSE. I WILL TAKE THE LEFT.” Ares said in response, pulling out a pair of twin axes in turn. In sync, the two Formis, separated by centuries of time, flung themselves into battle together once more, engaging the stalking foe. Factus reeled down on the creature to the right, a horrid mass of writhing tentacles and teeth. It’s dark blood was splattered across the stone pavement, organs wrenched out with brutal efficiency.
Ares slammed into his prey like a hammer strikes a nail, a whirlwind of swift blows, backed up by raw strength sent the second Shadow-Spawn straight back to the hell-hole from whence it came. Both men continued to search the area, but their focus was quickly drawn to the sky. Where the golden light of Etreidies once shone, instead a great mass of darkness blanketed the heavens. At it’s center, a massive purple eye with a pupil of pure darkness looked down, straight towards the Imperial Palace. Around it, droplets of shadow poured down like rain, a each drop a newly unborn Shadow-Spawn
“The Emperor. Let’s go, Ares!” Shouted Factus, wasting no time. The two broke off into a sprint, crashing through any Shadow-Spawn in their wake like a tsunami. But even their metal hearts were shaken by the sight of so many dead people, their bodies scattered across the streets in droves. They would have to hurry.
Their destination was the South-Western Bridge of Infinity, the closest entryway into the Palace. The decorated pathway to the Rainbow Bridge was littered with even more corpses, and blighted by a half dozen more dark creatures. What’s more, Factus looked on in contempt to see Formis, his own brothers, corrupted in turn. Where their hearts once glowed a baleful orange, now only black energy shot out. The Ground shook as the Wolf-King arose, his form strengthened and expanded to new limits. His anger fueled him, for seeing such foul beasts desecrate the heartland of his people brought him to a rage beyond his reckoning. He rushed forward, slicing into the closest enemy with an unstoppable ferocity. With his immense size, he simply picked up one of his corrupted brothers, and threw him as far as he could, away from the battle.
Seeing his very people corrupted only continued to fuel the man. For regardless of the body he found himself in, at his core he was of the Formis, now and forever. In his fury, he darted past the meager Shadow-Spawn, onwards towards the largest, most humanoid of the lot. It threw itself at him in a whirlwind, black claws shrieking against the dream-wrought plate Factus wore. It pierced through the dark adamantium, red ichor oozing out of his veins far quicker than normal. Unperturbed, he breathed deeply, and grabbed on to the claw that had struck him, ignoring the pain.
“Kru-Shakar!” He shouted, channeling the very energy of destruction that fueled the disgusting creature before him. His voice echoed across the courtyard, up onwards towards the bridge he sought to cross. His target erupted in a sea of inky black paste, it’s essence shattered by the word of the King. It’s hold on the Formis began to fade, but not fully. Factus turned in horror to see that even his brother Ares had been taken by the grasp of the dark god. However, the Formis did not glow with the blackened light the others did. No, instead he glowed the same shade of purple as they eye above, the holes in his helmet revealing two dark pupils, staring out towards Factus.
Gauntleted-Fists were clenched, as Factus quickly thought of the best path ahead. He was enthralled in rage, yet his centuries of experience and training would always prevail. He saw the eyes that had corrupted Ares, and looked up to the one that gazed down at the Palace of his Emperor. He grunted, sending out a shock-wave of thunder from his hands, blasting back Ares and the others as he dashed towards the Rainbow Bridge that would take him to the true source of all this madness.
The walkway of light caught him, and thrust him forward at lightning speed. He raced towards the palace, towards his Emperor. The illustrious, magnificent buildings that surrounded the Palace came into view in the distance, his destination still a mile away. He could swear that the eye above shifted it's gaze to the North-East, but he was distracted by what he saw behind him even more. There stood the corrupted warriors, chasing him across the Bridge. They somehow moved even quicker, as though they knew the ins and outs of traveling across the light. The first erupted behind Factus with a spear, shearing across the back of his left thigh, cutting straight through the leather and mail. The might of an ordinary Formis was nothing to scoff at, but the former Lord-Protector was far beyond their efforts. 
He felt the bridge beneath him, understanding it's functions and it’s origins in only an instant of observation. It moved and shifted him forward, directing him to the Palace in a manner not unlike the methods of travel he mastered in the Divine Sanctuary. He knelt down, his immense form skidding against the bridge, coming to an instant halt. He raised his Axe, the sculpted Ter’Angreal marked across it’s surface glowing with a massive amber-yellow light. The Bridge warped and twisted again, sending his pursuers back towards their point of origin, the Rainbow now a horizontal arch. Factus stood in the open air, the Rune of Flight inscribed across his boots. His eyes narrowed like a wolf, as he turned back towards the Palace and dashed through the air.
His sprint came to an abrupt halt once more, as his leg was caught by the gold-clad hand of Ares. The corruption that had overtaken him seemed to grant him strength, the energy flowing out of him in wisps of dark magic that carried him aloft. Ares’ hand clenched across Factus’ injured leg, crushing it with the immense physical force he was so renowned for. A fist slammed down at Ares’ head, sundering one of the horns that adorned his helmet. He was blown back, but not enough to stop his pursuit.
Factus breathed deeply. He had used both Rune-Speaking and the power of the Waking Dream. Neither came without a physical cost, and he could feel himself wearing down. In an instant, he returned to his original size, and the dark power that infested Ares took that brief moment of distraction to strike. Darkness surged forth from his hands, shattering and sundering the threads of magic that held Factus aloft. The Wolf-King slashed forth at his attacker, but his efforts were for naught. He plummeted past the edges of water that surrounded the Palace, downwards to what lay below.
He heard a voice. One familiar, yet at the same time unlike any he had ever heard.
“Awaken. The battle has only begun.”
His eyes opened.