THE GUNS OF GIBRALTAR
️️ CUETA PENAL BRUTE ️️
From the rot-choked cells of the Ceuta Penal Colony lumbers a behemoth — a prisoner turned plague engine, flesh fused to rusted steel. His name erased. His sentence eternal. His justice? Delivered from twin barrels of pestilence.
️ Akimbo Gatling Cannons, fed by disease-caked tubing ️
️ Spiked armor forged from scavenged guard towers ️
Back-mounted compressor pumping pestilent vapor into every round
They call him the Lockjaw of the Strait — for no vessel, no crusader, no living thing crosses the narrow sea without kneeling to his barrage. The very air around Gibraltar sings with rot and ruin.
Why is the Strait of Gibraltar impassable?
Because this monster makes it so.
Because the Corpus Profane do not guard their borders…
They obliterate them.
He fires until the sea boils.
He laughs through a muzzle of rust.
🪳 And when the barrels cool…
️ There is only silence. And smoke.
Welcome to the Strait.
Now turn back—
or be turned to ash.
