Borgut took in the battle around him as he parried the thousandth ethereal thrust, and banished the damned back to where it belong. Wherever that was. The battle was not going as planned, and he found his forces hard pressed. They had fought for every inch, but the seemingly endless hoards simply would not stop, and his boyz were slowly losing momentum. Men, aelf, and duardin had all spun off into small skirmishes, creating small islands of defenders against a sea of spirit. He spun his head around in desperation, surely there was something… he caught sight of a small group of aelven soldiers, flowing in white and creating a phalanx. The fell in desperate silence. A Khinerai fell a hundred paces off, screaming as her wings were shot through. He could see a dozen buildings aflame already. A wing of Kharadron airships took off in the distance, limping into the sky even as an avalanche of ghosts, climbing and flying onto one another swarmed over the last one to leave, pulling it to ground. Borgut swore. Escape really did seem the only option.
Suddenly one of the skaven fighting below their legs disappeared in a flash of green, and he realized that they had also sensed the incoming loss. Roaring in rage he caught the tale of another, halfway through the miniature gnaw-hole and dragged the squealing creature back.
‘Not so fast my tiny pet…’ and Borgut brought the little rat up to look straight into its beady eyes, ‘make us a big one of those, so we can get our haul through as well!!!’
The skaven looked at him doubtfully, shifting eyes between it’s gnawhole and Borgut. Borgut whacked it around the head, not enough to kill, but enough to send a message. ‘Yes-yes master! As you say master…’
It had taken significantly shorter then he had imagined. Rallying his boyz around a knot of skaven and his machines, he had set the vermin the task of creating a gnawhole as large as it could go. And yet, it was still too small. Without warning the earth to his right suddenly seemed to implode, spirits were cast into nothing, and an Overlords ship was revealed as the smoke cleared. And he knew what to do. ‘You, you, and you,’ he bellowed as some brutes stumbling out of the wreckage, ‘grab that ‘uge gun!’
‘Master-master’ the vermin screamed, ‘that is not how this works-works!’ Borgut ignored the runt, and swung the sky canon at the green hole in reality. ‘Shudup, explosions always work!’ he screamed at them, pulling the trigger.
Madness swept over him. His skin seemed to sheer off his skin. He seemed to fall upwards, reality folding in on itself. All around him orruks screamed as they were wrapped around their own bodies, their very souls twisting out of the eyes and ears. The skaven flowed around them, eyes wide in panic, swimming, falling, and twisting around the orruks and spirits as the gnawhole tore them limb from limb. Armour dissolved on skin. Ghosts spun out into infinite thinness, screaming all the while. Orruks, in desperation tried to reach one another, and only ended up being spun into eachother. Madness. Utter chaos filled his eyes.
And then it all went black.