In the eleven years since its deicidal war in heaven, Justinian had reached the centre of the world personally, now pushing its Western hordes onwards towards the gatehouse of the East, and from there the last bastion of the Old Pantheon Yuwan and her followers. In its left hand it held a sword, burning in flames. Levitating in the sky with a great halo behind its head and radiating light and heat. Justinian’s form was that of a pale ghostly, almost-human like in figure, towering over normal men covered in cloth and unworldly armour. Beyond the clouds and what would have been starry skies, the golden light of the Justinian’s avatar gleamed upon the army and embraced the land, turning night into day. In the night skies beyond the thick layers of fumes that surrounded this great host, arrived the soaring Sun made manifest. They were the rebellion, they were the freedom fighters of this modern age, and so they proclaimed, and so proclaimed their newborn God, who led them forwards the Justinian. They saw it, within the eyes of the Western Hordes every soldier, as they marched onwards, one could see the spirit of a new dawn and the flames of the forge which will reshape the world flickering to light. It was one of the largest armies they had ever seen, and what they lacked in the glittering weapons of the easts elite, they made up for in undying zeal.
The waking villagers were met with the presence of the West armed with wood and steel, fire and sword. The sound of their feet clashing with the ground, the sound of the friction between their swords, their shields, and their spears culminating in a thousand-column long, hundred warrior-wide, thunderous cacophony of revolution. It did so with the deafening rattle of armour as they marched onwards. Through the darkness of night, following the brightest star that shone through the dust, Justinian’s own Pale Star of the West, the host announced its existence as it passed frightened villages, not by courier or messages but by the light of many thousands of torches. Justice had called forth a host to fight the final war, against the great Demiurgic enemy, the enemy that lied in the East, in the decadent halls of dethroned Gods and their followers, clad in gold and silver as they were coated in all things from bronze to runes telling of past glories better left forgotten. The clouds of dust uprooted by a column of men, women, and beasts gathered from across the whole of the West, as it marched through lands of ice, shadow, and sand. The stars, each an image of a celestial being's soul in the night sky, were choked out by fume clouds.
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