The sky roiled above him. Clouds black, and pregnant with the threat of snow. He raised his featureless face – carved and branded with an eight pointed star – as though to sniff the air, twisting and turning, this way and that. A hideous banner of human skin hung above him, wreathed in greasy black smoke from the leering, gargoyle-shaped ports of his ancient powerpack. Snapping and biting at the growing wind with its still living mouths. Finally his movements ceased and the grey-ish, suppurating flesh of his face split and wrinkled back from the rotting teeth of the huge mouth hidden beneath his scarred skin in a parodic smile. “Sssspaacccce maariiinessssss…” He crooned to himself. “Taassssstyy!”