I bet you though I'd follow that Subject up with an actual story, but IT WAS ME, DIO! I think this idea was interesting, though. It's just that I (and probably everyone else interested) has no idea how to even start.

Sorry it took so long! I kind of forget I made half a story for this thread.
~~~~~
The gray dust peacefully floated in the dim light. It would aimlessly wander throughout the old hall until it found one of the many scattered relics from an age long past to settle upon. I felt like an intruder, breaching the sanctity of this place. It had survived undisturbed for decades, a silent fortress in the darkness. Those thoughts vanished upon hearing the dull thumps coming from the door behind me.

I quickly went to work, dragging pieces of old furniture and appliances to the cold metal barrier, the only thing between me and the open jaws of death. After an eternity of pushing, lifting and placing I was spent, but the work was done. It was a fruitless effort, this I knew. But what does an animal do, cornered and afraid? Does he curl up and whimper, pleading for a swift end? No! He snaps his chops and fights until Amori takes him.

And that is exactly what I am. A mere animal, a stray from the pack. My brothers and sisters fell all around me, littering the ground, a better death than I would be given. I ran- I ran from the battle. While I fled I saw countless faces of those I knew and didn’t know. They were all the same now, dull and cold.
Slowly, calmly, I got up and walk through the complex. I found few passages and rooms, each containing large parcels of garments and trinkets. When I opened one of my doors, a rancid stench reached my nostrils and I started to gag. I quickly shut the door, but not before a saw a small, unmoving hand wrapped around a doll.
The sounds from outside had stopped for a while, but they now resumed, stronger and with new energy. I found a reclining chair on the opposite side of the entrance room. I slowly sat down, taking a sip of a drink I had found in one of the many boxes. It was harsh going down, but left a sweet aftertaste I could only describe as heavenly.

*BAM* *BAM* *BAM* Wood was splintering now, the door convulsing and the furniture stacked around it being pushed outwards. I saw a glimpse of red eyes before I closed mine for the last time.

"FATHER!!"

A desparate young man dropped to his knees beside a graying old man, whose kind face was soaked in blood and marred beyond recognition. He tenderly picked up the old man's head and laid it gently in his lap, bitter tears washing away the blood little by little. The young man hunched over and kissed the old man's forehead, hardly caring for the mess he'd make on himself. "Father, I'm sorry!" He shut his eyes and hugged the old man tightly in a feeble attempt to hide his quaking.

The remaining survivors stepped out of their shelters and watched him, with not a dry eye to be found among them. Even those who had no relation to him at all found themselves repeatedly wiping the moisture dripping from their chins. As they stood in solemn silence, one of the men, a short, timid, middle-aged man who seemed more bone than muscle, stepped forward from the group and raised his head.

"Charrus," he called out.
The young man continued sobbing.
"Charrus," he called out again, louder this time.
And this time, the young man looked up at him, his lips still twisted with grief. "What?" he hissed.
"You don't have to face this alone. Garrus Morai was like a father to us all; we all stand with you in your sorrow."

Charrus thought to scold them for not being able to understand his grief. But before the words left his mouth, he had the presence of mind to look around him at all the destruction that the Spiral Order had wrought. Men, women, and children all lay strewn about the battlefield, their ashen bodies still reaching for the sky as if still pleading for heaven to take their souls. Farms and homesteads, once their only livelihoods and all they had in the world, lay in utter ruin. Not a single stone was left upon another.

Then another, paler hand took his shoulder, and everone turned and gasped in surprise. It was Lady Winter Grey herself, and behind her stood a detachment from her Rage Legion. They had arrived too late for the battle, and nobody noticed their arrival until now. Lady Grey looked up at the sky and, trying to force words through her constricted throat, whispered, "Who did this?"

While his heart still shook and tears still streamed down his cheeks, Charrus felt some measure of comfort in her simple words. They all knew who did this. Then, to his further surprise, Lady Grey came around, dropped to her knees and bowed. Her mouth was open as if to speak, but for once in her life, she could find nothing to say. All her politics and machinations seemed trite now.

The shorter man spoke what everyone was thinking. "Come on, Charrus. Let all of us fight to avenge the deaths of our friends and loved ones. We shall all stand together as one. Don't let Garrus Morai's death be in vain."

Lady Grey turned to Charrus and looked him in the eye. "For your sake, I shall be Garrus Morai."
"I, too, am Garrus Morai," the 14-year-old boy added.
"Let me be Garrus Morai," said another man.

Charrus got to his feet, rose and smiled.

"Then we shall all be Morai together."

"Retreat!!!"

Callus heard the signal, and watched as the one around him fell back from the meager cover they held and moved to the awaiting gunships. Moving quickly, he folded the tripod and hefted the Grim repeater machine gun and slung the strap around his back. He swung it around and unleashed a barrage on the approaching moral, sending a few scattering for cover. A shot wizzed by his head, and Callus ran to meet the others at the pickup.

He ran down a corridor, slamming any auto-lock button as he went, until he reached the landing zone. Three fast flying Epsilon gunships hummed as they got ready for takeoff.

"Come on! They'll be here soon!" An intel knight beckoned,

Callus jogged to the small group waiting to get onto the shuttle. As soon as he got there, a disheartening sound started up behind him. He turned around and his suspicions were confirmed, a spark was making a steady line down the middle of a locked door. They would be here in seconds.

He barely heard the words leave his lips, "Go! I'll hold them off!"
Moving away from the crowd was a blur, setting himself by some crates and unfolding the machine gun, he set it on the ground and unholstered his super blaster, then his Tempered Calibur, all in easy reach.

A hand gripped his shoulder, turning him around to reveal three other grim looking knights. The one who grabbed this shoulder spoke up, "You'll lose by yourself, we'll help you win."

There was no time for a thank you or greeting. The others quickly set up, taking their own cover and getting their weapons ready.

The spark reached the bottom just as the gunship doors began to close. There was a slight pause, then the door was apart, revealing at least 10 morai, an advance squad maybe.

A powerful bullet slammed into the first one, coming from a knight who promptly reloaded his Callahan. Callus squeezed the trigger and let loose a hail of bullets at the group. By the time they took cover, the ships were rising off the ground. Gods of Isora, it seemed to take forever. He counted 7 left and sprayed some more, keeping their heads down.

Suddenly a shot slammed into his gun from one side, knocking it over. Callus looked up and saw 5 more morai appear from the left door.

They were being flanked. Callus whipped up the Blaster and fired a round at the flankers, taking out 1. Then the frontal Morai resumed their attack.

The air became a bullet hell, almost impossible to lift one's head up. Callus squeezed a shot off and watched the knight who spoke to him take a bullet to the chest, dropping their numbers to 3.

Spurred by the loss of their comrade, Callus and the others suddenly attacked with a vigor, taking out 2 from each group of enemies. Silencing the attack for a brief moment, bringing on a second of silence. Callus looked up and saw the receding back of the three gunships. He gave a silent salute and reloaded his pistol. He exchanged a glance with the surviving knights, they had served their purpose, now it was time to go out in a fury.

Callus grabbed a blast bomb that lay in a nearby crate, and hurled it at the frontal group, they saw it coming and it exploded in mid-air. The resulting explosion blinded the morai for a second, and Callus emptied his gun in their direction. He took out 2 before the rest ducked out of sight.

His comrades were faring a little better against the flankers, thinning their numbers to 1 flanker, but one knight was bleeding from an ugly gash in his chest, he wouldn't last much longer.

He looked back at the crate of Blast bombs, and an idea formed in his head, he quickly took out a charge and dropped into the crate, looking around him revealed another crate or two marked with the same symbol.

Callus checked the enemy count once again, 0 flankers, and his heart dropped as he saw 10 additional Morai, as well as the 3 left over.

The injured ally fell, a Nitronome rolling from his hand, blowing up a large chunk of the cover, leaving the Callahan user vulnerable. He squeezed off two shots before being downed by multiple enemy bullets.

Callus shot again at the Morai, the shots deflecting off of shields and cover. Still he fired, and once again hit nothing. He reloaded and rose to fire again when something slammed into his chest and knocked him off his feet. His vision blurred, and all sound faded away. The edges of his vision became darker, and he scrabbled for something in his Gun holster.

When a Morai appeared above him, Callus was clutching a small device and staring straight up, mumbling something incoherent. Callusntook a deep, shuddering breath, and croaked out.

"You lose,"

His thumb clicked the device in his hand and everything in his vision went bright orange.

You lose...