Omnicide in European Ground

"I know this city is a cultural artifact" his hand was pointing the entire city of Moscow. It was a snow-ridden city, adorned with lots of buildings some of them counting back to many centuries, while others built just a few months ago. The city was populous, perhaps even more than New York, but its inhabitants were scattered around many districts, which made it even more difficult for him to harvest souls.


"But no one gives a damn if it is" he said with his broad smile on his face. The Primera was still on resurrection mode, after all not even 7 hours have passed since the destruction of New York. His hollow servants had already got used of his gruesome form, but he still inspired a wave of fright with his voice's tone and his facial expression; a constantly glowing red grin.

He muttered some words in a familiar language, followed by a black ball molding at his sword's edge. Once again, he was charging his fearsome attack; the black hole remained stationary while it sucked all nearby spirit particles, growing bigger and thicker as the time passed.

In the meantime, Bracamarte's red eyes peered around the city, figuring out where to throw his little bomb, until his eyes stayed absorbed at the south-eastern part of the city. The random place he picked would become the launch of his plague in the Old World.

He swung his place toward the fixed position and sending the black hole flying towards that part of the city. The black ball stood stationary as it headed with impressive speed, as if it was a meteorite, to meet its target.

Within the next seconds, it did; the black ball fell on a building and instantly triggered a massive explosion which completely destroyed the building, blasting it to millions pieces, as it did with its surroundings both living and unliving. No one realized what happened, as they explosion spread rapidly in a radius of 500 meters. An ash cloud enveloped the area for few minutes before revealing the devastation that had befallen the area; every building was razed to the ground, a few bodies manage not to turn completely ashes but they were severely scorched by the heat released by the explosion.

A foul odour filled the air; the stench of burned bodies. The rest of the hollow guard went to finish the job; they sprinted towards that part of town and started converting the souls that just formed there. The same thing that happened with New York, happened at the that time in Moscow.


Bracamarte placed the sword back in its scabbard, withdrawing from resurrection mode. Drawing a imaginative vertical line in the air with his index finger, he tore a part of the sky apart, opening a Garganta. Like nothing happened, he strolled towards the Garganta, looking forward wreaking havoc on his next stop.