Prologue The rain beat down hard on the armor of the Eliksni gathered under the rock. Their red banners and cloth had turned an almost dark brown in the dark wet night. Korsis pulled the spear from its strap on his back and raised it in the air. For a mile, all he could see were the angry eyes of his army. His armada. His Devils. "For thousands of years, we have been beaten back in our path to pursue the Great Machine. She eluded us for millennia, but when we finally found her, she was taken from us. Taken by the dead! Taken by the House of Thieves! Scum! Dogs! They burned us and destroyed us, tearing away at our honor, our pride, our very culture! Now, we shall take our vengeance upon the vermin. We will burn their culture. The humans built this city from nothing, and it became metropolis. Some still live here, and we shall show them our wrath. We shall show them our fury! We shall show them our blades! Go forth, and tear their city to the ground!" The masses surged forward, and Korsis raised his spear. Lightning flashed down from the heavens, crackling as it touched the tip of the spear. It didn't reach his arm, but Korsis knew that it was the gesture that counted. "Go forth," he yelled, "and burn London to the ground!"