Universal DOOM

by ImpulsiveWeaver

Summary:

After being cast away by Samuel Hayden, the Doom Slayer winds up on an adventure through multiple universes. Coming into contact with those who have their own issues with the denizens of Hell. This is a crossover between Doom (2016) and any horror/supernatural movies/books/stories that I decided throw in there. Feel free to request any movie, book, or franchise you want to see.

Cover art:
https://www.deviantart.com/jakeburner/art/Universal-DOOM-cover-811289056

Notes:

A/N: I'm back yet again! This time, I've got a fun-filled adventure planned with your favorite Doom Slayer going toe-to-toe with some of your favorite horror antagonists. That's the main part, but the secondary part is all about how the protagonists of said universes react to our unstoppable, armored, demon killer. Let me just say that I own nothing. With that out of the way, let's begin!

Chapter 1: Beginning: Ghostbusters

Re-routing tether coordinates…Complete.

"I can't kill you – but I won't have you standing in our way."

…

"Until we see each other again."

With that, the tether activated, and a bright blue light flashed throughout the room. Then everything fell still.

…

Peter Venkman was feeling especially glorious today. Another successful ghost bust had just occurred and Ray and Egon were handling the details and the trap. This time, the Ghostbusters had found a disturbance at a local subway station, some uptight spirit of a conductor was dumping trash cans on innocent commuters. The team had arrived and handled it with ease. Well, almost ease.

Venkman turned to the rest of the team, who were now carefully picking up the trap. The rowdy spirit was trapped inside, and they were attempting to be careful with it, as the trap had sustained significant damage during their bust. Ok, so maybe the spirit had been a bit more than your average vapor, but they had handled it in the end. Now all they had to do was get back to the station, trap that sucker in the grid, fix the trap, and take a well-deserved nap. The thought of getting some rest brought a smile to Venkman's face.

"Well boys, we came! We saw! We kicked—"

Venkman was suddenly interrupted by a loud bang and a flash of bright blue light. Venkman threw his arm up to shield his eyes, but the flash disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, and the lighting in the subway station returned to normal.

Opening his eyes, Venkman looked over at the source of the disturbance to find a figure standing a short distance away from the team. The other three had stopped what they were doing and were now all staring at the figure as well.

From what they could see, it appeared to be humanoid, and it also appeared to be clad in bulky, green, full-body armor with a helmet to match. It looked like nothing any of them had ever seen before. Everyone stood dumbfounded. A brief moment of silence passed as the figure seemed to notice the four Ghostbusters standing before it aswell. Venkman was the first to speak.

"Gotta be honest guys," Venkman said softly so that the figure couldn't hear. "Never thought I'd see a stormtrooper in real-life."

The figure turned its head to Venkman. Obviously, it had heard what he had just said, and Venkman decided that it was time to break the ice.

"Hey there buddy, I think you're a bit late! Star Wars came out last year!"

The figure didn't respond.

"Guess he's not a movie guy," Venkman said to the team again.

"Guys…" Egon suddenly said.

The other three Ghostbusters turned to Egon, who was staring at the trap on the ground. It was vibrating slightly, and Egon had a worried look on his face.

"Did you…did you drop it?" Ray asked, worry creeping into his voice.

Egon didn't respond, and the trap began shaking more violently, as if to answer Ray's question.

The figure now turned to look at the trap as well, which was now rattling loudly on the concrete.

"Everybody back!" Ray yelled.

The four of them scattered and took what little cover was available as the trap exploded in a brilliant flash of white light.

A distinctive roar was heard as the spirit wrenched itself from its temporary prison. The spirit appeared to be at least 9 feet tall and floating with an ominous blue aura in the center of the station. The trap lay scrapped and burnt beside it.

It looked around and spied Venkman, who had trapped it in the first place with a containment beam, and vengeful recognition registered in its eyes.

Suddenly, a thunderous bang was heard, and a ripple seemed to pass through the ghost's form.

Everyone turned to see that the armor-clad figure had produced a shotgun seemingly from nowhere, and was now firing rounds at the ghost, none of which seemed to be affecting the spirit at all.

"Wait! Stop!" Ray cried out as he ducked to avoid the shotgun blasts.

"Projectile-based weaponry doesn't work on ghosts!"

The figure stopped firing and glanced in Ray's direction before seemingly pulling another gun out from nowhere. This one appeared to be more futuristic in its design, and any questions Venkman had were immediately trumped as the figure fired the weapon, sending a stream of blue plasma rounds directly into the ghost.

This time, the ghost screeched as the plasma tore through its form, holes in its vapor began to burn and widen, and the entire spirit seemed to melt as the figure continued firing. The screeching abruptly stopped as a plasma round vaporized the head of the specter.

The ghostbusters watched in awe as the ghostly figure went limp, then it seemed to evaporate into nothingness.

The armored-figure slowly lowered its plasma rifle, and Ray immediately stood up.

"Plasma! Your weapon uses plasma!" Ray was practically jumping for joy. Venkman smirked as he thought of a child on Christmas.

"How exciting! I originally thought of using plasma instead of the proton packs, but it was beyond our capabilities. I gotta have a look at that weapon!"

The figure stared back at Ray, and Venkman had a feeling that this mysterious ghost-killer wasn't about to hand it over.

"Wait a minute," Winston spoke up. "Spengler, don't we know this guy? I mean, isn't he in some of those texts you are always reading?"

Egon straightened his glasses and took a closer look at the figure, which had lowered its plasma rifle and was now still staring at them.

"I… I think you're right," Egon said, recognition appearing on his face. "If this is who I think it is, we have to get back to the station. Immediately."

"Whoa there, pal," Venkman said, holding his hand up for emphasis. "Just how important is this space-pirate? What is he, like Jesus or something?"

"If I'm right, and I'm pretty sure I am, this guy is basically the next best thing."

…

The figure glanced around the station as the Ghostbusters led it to Egon's personal library on all things supernatural. Egon had spent the last few months compiling a massive number of tomes on hell, heaven, and everything in between. Finally arriving at a haphazard stack of books in the study, the other three Busters waited awkwardly next to the behemoth with a gun standing next to them.

"Here. Here it is!" Egon opened a rather large tome to a specific page. There was a drawing on the page that depicted a figure fighting multiple hell monsters in what appeared to be a barren wasteland. Upon closer inspection, the four men could see that the figure was armed with a gun and was wearing armor nearly identical to the figure standing in the room with them.

Egon quickly pointed to the figure in the book. Then turned at looked at the figure.

"Is this you?"

The figure's expression was unreadable behind its visor, but it took a glance at the picture, and nodded once.

"Spengler, what's this writing underneath?"

Egon turned back to the book and read the text underneath. It was originally in Hebrew, and Egon had to pause a few times to remember the proper translation.

"Some texts speak of an entity that all demons and ghosts fear. A figure armed with indestructible armor and an unstoppable killing power. Though mentions of this entity are few and far between, almost all of these texts refer to the entity as the Doom Slayer. He is described as a being with unbreakable determination, endless resolve, and unyielding force. Many believe that the continued delay of judgement day is due to this Doom Slayer, as he has decimated far too many hell spawn for Hell to successfully invade Earth. The Vatican denies the existence of the Doom Slayer, but many within the church still revere his name."

As Egon finished, he frowned and turned back to the figure, the Doom Slayer.

"You didn't arrive here on purpose, did you?"

The figure nodded once again, indicating that Egon's assumption was indeed correct.

"How'd you figure that, Spengler?"

"There's no way he would want to be here," Egon replied. "And if he hasn't been here before, it is unlikely that he would have come her just for kicks."

Winston frowned in confusion, but let the subject go as Egon continued speaking.

"The technology that brought you here seems to emanate from your armor, perhaps I could take a look at it and maybe design a way for you to control it…"

"And maybe while you are doing that, I could get a quick look at that plasma weapon!" Ray chimed in.

The Doom Slayer look over at Ray, seemingly reluctant to relinquish his weapon, but ultimately seemed to decide that since they were helping him, he might as well help them too.

Holding the plasma rifle in one hand, the Doom Slayer reached out and deposited it in Ray's arms. The weapon was obviously heavier than Ray had previously thought, and he staggered under the unexpected weight. Before Ray could turn and leave however, the Doom Slayer pointed an armored finger at Ray. The gesture seemed to say, 'You break that thing, and I will break you.'

Ray got the message and nodded furiously before turning on his heel and rushing out the door.

"Alright," Egon said. "Let's have a look at that armor."

…

A few hours later, Egon finally produced what he hoped would remedy their situation. It had taken a while, since the Doom Slayer could only answer Egon's questions with a yes or no shake of his head, but Egon had finally been able to add a new system to the Slayer's 'Praetor' armor. The Doom Slayer himself was currently standing still, a few connectors and cords were attached to his armor, and Egon typed away furiously on a computer hooked up at the other end.

"Alright, after performing diagnostics on your armor, I noticed that the 'tether' system that brought you here is remotely controlled. As of a few hours ago, there was no way for you to activate the tether, so you were essentially at the mercy of whoever was at the controls. While the tether system itself is too far beyond our current understanding, the remote system used to activate it is quite similar to our own. You still with me so far?"

The Doom Slayer stared back at Egon. With a sigh, Egon decided to continue.

"To the point, I was able to add a new system to your armor that you can use to activate the tether. All you have to do, is this:"

Egon then held his right hand in a thumbs-up position toward the Doom Slayer, who seemed confused.

"I used your armor's sensory system to design a trigger for the tether. Now, every time you give a thumbs-up, the sensors in your gauntlet activate the tether."

The Doom Slayer then nodded, indicating that he understood.

"There is only one issue though," Egon said with a sigh. "All I was able to do was set up a way for you to activate the tether system, so even though you can use it, you will have no control over where it drops you off. It may take you back to where you came from, or it may drop you off in the middle of space. I just don't know. This tech is way beyond me."

The Doom Slayer nodded yet again, indicating that he was grateful all the same. At least, Egon hoped that was what he had meant.

"Hey!"

Egon and the Slayer both turned to see Ray enter that lab, the plasma rifle resting in his hands. Carefully, he held the weapon out to the Doom Slayer, who took it from him gently.

"I was able to learn so much just by examining the outside! The systems it uses are remarkable, some are certainly beyond our technological capabilities but others…others are things we should have thought about years ago! I'm absolutely astounded that we didn't see it before, Spengler!"

"So, we are still a long way from utilizing plasma?" Egon asked.

"Unfortunately, yes. But taking a few ideas from the plasma weapon has given me a multitude of ways to upgrade our proton packs, our equipment, even the trap! Increased beam strength and accuracy! Smaller packs with a longer half-life! A much wider range for the trap! The list goes on and on."

"Try not to make your head explode, Ray," Venkman said as he and Winston entered the lab. "You'll scare away the guest."

He nodded in greeting to the Doom Slayer, who nodded back.

"Well," Egon said. "Before I activate your tether control, I wanted to give you a little something to help you out in your future endeavors."

Typing a few more commands on the monitor, Egon hit the enter button before starting to remove the cords from the Doom Slayer's body.

"During my diagnostic scan on your armor, I noticed that your suit doesn't have any sort of paranormal detection system on it. So, I took the liberty of installing one of our P.K.E. scanners onto your visor. It allows you to detect psycho-kinetic energy, meaning that even if a ghost or demon or whatever you're up against decided to go invisible, you'd still be able to see their psycho-kinetic energy through your visor. In other words, you will always be able to see them."

The Doom Slayer nodded yet again to Egon, and Egon figured it was the best thanks he was going to get.

Finally removing the last cord from the Doom Slayer's armor, Egon gestured for everyone to take a few steps back.

"Well, that's everything. You now can activate the tether system at will. So, I guess this is goodbye."

Egon gave the Doom Slayer a thumbs up. The Doom Slayer turned and looked at the four Ghostbusters in the room, then turned to the front and gave Egon a thumbs up in return.

With a loud bang and a blue flash of light, the Doom Slayer disappeared.

The four Ghostbusters stared at the spot where the Slayer had disappeared, then Venkman broke the silence, as usual.

"Anyone mind telling me why we didn't try to convince him to stay? I can't help but get a bit excited at the thought of all of us kicking ass with plasma rifles. That guy could've made our job so much easier."

"Trust me, Venkman," Egon said as he turned to leave the room. "That guy is the only reason Hell hasn't found its way to Earth yet. He's made our job easier than we could ever imagine."

Chapter 2: It Follows

"Jay?"

Jay looked up from the cup of coffee she had been cradling in her hands. It had grown cold since she had purchased it an hour ago. Across from her sat Paul, and he reached out and took her hand, worry evident in his eyes. All around them, customers laughed or relaxed in the small coffee shop that they currently occupied. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, and Jay wished she could say the same. Jay took a deep breath.

"It's not gone, Paul. It can't be dead."

Paul's expression didn't change as he silently looked back at her. After a moment, he spoke.

"You don't think it's gone?"

Jay looked down for a moment, then back up at Paul.

"It's out there. We couldn't have killed it."

"Why not?"

"It's taken gunshots before and survived. It can't be gone."

Now it was Paul's turn to look at the ground. His grip tightened around Jay's hand, and Jay could feel him start to tremble. Jay realized that Paul had never seen it before, and it was still a bit of a mystery to him. He had never felt the crippling uselessness of trying to hide. Never realized that it always knew where you were. He had never felt the desperation of trying to run from it. No matter how far you ran, it would catch up with you. It was a relentless and unceasing nightmare, and they only way they could find some temporary escape was to cast it onto someone else and watch the terror on their face as they realized the size of the burden they now carried.

Jay remembered how she had felt when she had first realized just how hard living with it could be. Every single aspect of her life had become saturated with fear. Constantly looking over her shoulder and scanning every single face she saw in the crowd to see if it had found her again.

"Jay," Paul spoke up again. "I…I passed it on."

Jay said nothing, and Paul took a breath and then continued.

"I thought that if I gave it to a hooker, maybe it would get far enough away from us. We wouldn't have to worry anymore. I mean, giving it to one of them could keep it away from us for a very long time. I'm…sorry I didn't tell you."

Jay shook her head slowly.

"Paul…" Jay gave his trembling hand a light squeeze back. "No matter what we do, that thing will keep coming back. No matter how many people we put between ourselves and it, that thing will find its way to us eventually. I want to believe that there is a solution. I really do, but we can never think that it's gone."

Jay saw Paul deflate further at her words, and she too felt a pang in her chest as she yet again reminded herself of how futile their situation was.

"There has to be something…" Paul said, his voice cracking slightly. "Anything, anything we can do to fight this…this demon."

Jay said nothing in return. She didn't have any answers, but God did she wish she did.

She solemnly stood up from their table, her hand still in Paul's.

"Come on, let's go home. Maybe we can think of something there."

Paul nodded wordlessly. All of his energy seemed to have been sapped from him due to their previous conversation.

"Yeah…" he finally managed. "Ok."

The two of them walked out of the small shop together. Each of them grasping onto each other's hand like a lifeline. They climbed into Jay's car, and Jay started the engine. After a few turns, they had left the parking lot and were now back on the road. Jay was thinking.

"Maybe we shouldn't go home," Jay said as they drove.

Paul turned to look at her.

"Why?"

"I think if we want to try and get rid of it, we are going to have to find some more information on it. We can't beat it if we don't know what it is."

Paul frowned. "Where are we gonna find some more information about this thing?"

Jay turned right and continued down the street.

"The library…I guess. Maybe something or someone can help us there."

Paul said nothing as Jay turned another corner.

Neither of them noticed a figure shuffling along on the sidewalk. As they passed by, the figure turned and switched its direction, following the car.

…

The two of them remained silent as they pulled up to the library, which was located in a small outlet mall, with a hardware store and a few restaurants located on either side of it. Jay parked the car, and both her and Paul got out. Both remained silent as they went inside.

The first thing they did was consult the catalog. They searched for anything they could find about monsters, demons, anything supernatural that could give them a clue as to this nightmarish being.

For a few hours they both searched, each poring over numerous tomes on demonic lore and supernatural creatures. Both kept coming up empty-handed, until Paul gestured for Jay to come over with a wave of his hand.

"You found something?" Jay asked as she walked over.

"Maybe," Paul said. "I think whatever this book is talking about is linked to it."

Jay looked over Paul's shoulder, and they each read the passage in silence.

For lo and behold, of relentless fiend and endless despair,

Blood finds chill, veins to ice, in presence of its stare.

Though chase ends in death, for victim and prey,

Tis not true sustenance, forgoing consumption for play.

Nay, tis torment, sinister and pure,

that which strengthens the villain, its true allure.

Though comfort not taken, my soul feels lightened,

To know motives true, finds me less frightened.

Take heed all sinners, for truth you must know.

Tis not your body, but the fear that you show.

"Jay…"

"Who wrote this? Where is it from?"

Paul closed the book to show Jay its cover. Jay read the title:

'Ravings of madmen, truth or personification?'

"The writer of the poem was named Henry Lancaster," Paul spoke again, reading from the book. "He was arrested for robbery in 1954. The book says he was compliant the entire time during his arrest. But once he got to prison, he immediately requested solitary confinement. When it was denied, he started a fight with the other inmates, and then got his wish. He seemed content with his solitary confinement, and wrote multiple poems and stories depicting a creature that stalked him day and night. He was found dead a few days after being committed to the prison. The door to his cell had been broken open, and he was dead. His body had been mangled horribly."

Jay suddenly remembered how Greg had died. How the demon had slaughtered him and then…defiled him before her eyes. Jay shook her head to try and banish the memory.

"It doesn't feed on killing us," she said slowly. "It survives by…by torturing us."

Paul slowly brought his gaze up to meet hers. She looked back at him.

"That's why it's slow. Why it doesn't run or drive or anything. It wants us to fear it first."

Paul slowly opened his mouth to say something but was cut short by a loud bang and a bright flash of blue light.

The two of them blinked away the brightness and turned to look at the source of the disturbance. Loose papers billowed around wildly, and the shelves rattled. Suddenly, the light faded, and the duo now saw a figure standing in its place. It looked like man, but it could have been a woman too. Jay couldn't tell due to the figure being covered in a dark green armor from head to toe.

Both Jay and Paul stared in bewilderment as the armored man turned his head to look around the library, seemingly getting his bearings. When he realized where he was, his demeanor changed. He now seemed to be searching for something. Suddenly, his gaze stopped on the both of them. Jay couldn't tell for sure, but he appeared to be observing them, as though they were something new he hadn't seen before.

The man then made his way towards the two of them, making a loud thud every time he took a step.

Reaching their table, the man stopped and stared at the two of them up close for a moment before suddenly reaching out and grabbing Paul roughly by his chin.

Paul grunted and struggled, but the armored man's grip held, and he turned Paul's head from side to side, examining him.

"Hey, stop!" Jay said from her seat.

The man turned his head to Jay, then looked down at the pile of tomes on demons and monsters the two of them had on their table.

He then shook his head and pushed Paul rather unceremoniously back down into his chair. Standing up, he turned and walked back further into the library, towards the history section. Paul and Jay both followed him with their gaze and watched him as he disappeared behind a bookshelf.

"What the hell was that?" Paul asked, rubbing his chin where the man had grabbed him.

Jay said nothing, then shook her head and turned back around to see Greg walking up to their table. At first, Jay wondered how Greg knew that the two of them were at the library. They hadn't told anyone that they had left.

Then she remembered: Greg was dead, and it always knew where they were.

It was here.

Jay screamed and grabbed Paul by the arm. Paul whirled around and saw it walking towards them. This was the first time he had seen it, and it had taken the form of Greg.

The two of them scrambled up from their chairs and started shuffling backwards. It just kept coming towards them. Jay suddenly felt a sense of dread as she remembered something.

"Paul," Jay said, her voice frantic. "Paul it wants you. It's here for you."

Paul said nothing, his eyes were wide and focused as the demon kept walking closer.

"Paul listen to me. We have to go. We have—"

A loud boom was heard, and the demon was thrown backward as blood erupted from its chest. The two of them were stunned, then turned around to see that the armored man was back.

And he was holding a shotgun.

They watched as the man pumped the shotgun and walked forward to where the demon was beginning to recover from the blast.

The man kicked it down again, then fired a round into its head at point-blank range. The demon's head exploded, and blood splattered all over the floor, the bookcases, and the man himself.

The man turned and looked at Jay and Paul, but the both of them stared wide-eyed at the monster on the ground.

Its head was slowly regenerating. Skin and tissue were beginning to reform from the base of the neck and was slowly working its way up.

This seemed to annoy the shotgun-wielding man, and Jay watched as he brought an armored boot down hard on the regenerating head, causing it to crumple and explode again under the force of the impact.

The man then watched as the head began to regrow again, and this time, he seemed to lose his patience. Jay watched as he grabbed the headless demon by the hole in its neck and drag it out the door of the library and into the parking lot. Jay and Paul remained frozen in place as the man disappeared from sight, then they both jumped as thunderous explosion shook the walls of the library, accompanied by a brilliant flash of green light. The massive boom shook the two teenagers to the core, and the two of them ran outside as the green light faded.

The scene in the parking lot looked like a meteor strike. There was a small crater in the asphalt, and the area around it was seared, cars and pavement alike. The man stood at the edge of the crater, his hands again empty. He was looking in. Jay and Paul tentatively stepped up to the crater and looked in as well. At first, neither of them saw anything, then Paul pointed and Jay saw a half-formed skull sitting in the seared Earth. Jay watched it for any tell-tale signs of life, but the skull remained still.

"Wha…what did you do it?" Jay asked the man.

The man turned and looked at her. Though she couldn't see his face through the visor, Jay got the gist of his response.

'Was that a trick question?'

Jay looked back at the remains of the monster. They weren't regrowing, or standing up, or attempting to move at all. The just sat there.

As Jay continued to watch, she slowly began to believe what she was seeing. It was gone. Dead. It wasn't coming back, and at that thought, Jay suddenly felt…lighter. Lighter than she had ever felt before. And it was amazing. She grabbed Paul and enveloped him in a hug, tears coming from her eyes. Happiness exploded in her chest, not unlike a similar explosion from a few moments earlier, as she held on tight to the feeling.

After a moment, she turned back to the man, who now was looking at the window of the hardware store. Though many people were gathered at the window, dumbfounded at the scene before them, the man appeared to be more interested in the variety of chainsaws displayed above them.

"Thank you," Jay said. "Thank you."

The man turned back to the two of them, then gave them a thumbs up.

There was a loud bang and a flash of blue light, then the man was gone.

Notes:

A/N: Alright! Part 2 is in! For those who don't know, this chapter takes place in the movie, "It Follows". I like the premise of this movie, and even though you don't really need a Doom Slayer get rid of that demon, I thought it'd be fun to throw him in there. Not sure which one I'm going to do next, but I have a few ideas. As always, feel free to drop a review if you have any suggestions for me! Thanks!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 3: The Evil Dead

Notes:

A/N: Part three is coming in hot! This time, we are delving into a personal favorite: the "Evil Dead" series. This one features the charismatic Ash Williams, and I've set the time period as a few months after the events of "Army of Darkness". That should set the scene well for a possible meet and greet between our two heroes. Remember to leave a comment telling me how much you love/hate the chapter. Remember that I own nothing!

Ash took another puff from his joint as he drove down the highway. The Delta was having no trouble towing his recently purchased Airstream trailer, and that's why Ash loved it. Looking at the clock on the dashboard, Ash saw that he was making pretty good time. In fact, he would be at the trailer park in just a few hours. After that, he planned to spend his night with a beer in one hand and a blonde in the other.

Ash frowned and looked down at his right hand, or at least, where his right hand should have been. A rather disappointing stump was what he saw, and Ash realized with sorrow that unless learned how to juggle, he would have to choose between the blonde or the beer.

Thinking back, Ash remembered his old mechanized hand he made back in the middle ages. They had some good times together, but that bad boy was long gone now. After Ash had awoken from his 600-year nap, the metal gauntlet had been useless. Despite Ash not aging or decaying at all during the time he was asleep, his metal hand had been another story. When he had awoken, the hand had rusted beyond repair, and since Ash had no use for a 600-year-old paperweight, he had discarded it as scrap.

Now, he was back to one, his left hand, which was currently on the steering wheel of the Delta, leaving Ash with no other extremities available to entertain himself with. Ash sighed as he spent the rest of the ride contemplating whether we would take the blonde or the beer.

A few hours later, Ash pulled into the trailer park. The sun was just beginning to set behind the trees, and long shadows were cast on the rock as Ash maneuvered through the turns. The park itself was nestled comfortably in the woods, and as Ash pulled into his designated spot, he looked to his left and saw a big crowd of people beginning to form through the trees. They were about 100 yards away, but Ash could make out that most of them were young kids, roughly college or high-school age. From what Ash could see, the event itself looked to be some sort of massive concert.

Ash smiled.

"Jackpot," he said to himself as he parked the Delta. Ash was currently in high spirits, as he had finally arrived at the conclusion that he would be able to have the beer and the blonde at the same time, and a massive concert was the perfect place to acquire copious amounts of both.

Ash climbed out of his car, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and walked the short distance to the main office of the trailer park. Stepping inside, Ash saw that in addition to an old guy at the desk, there were several young party-goers milling about in the chairs and sofas that were placed around the office. Up close, Ash saw that they all were dressed in bright neon colors, as expected of teenagers about to enter a sexually-charged, drug-bountiful event just a short distance away.

Ash winked at a few of the cute girls as he sauntered up to the front desk.

"Hey pops, I'm in stall six, here for one night."

The old guy looked up at Ash. Then took out a pencil and began writing the information in a notebook.

"That'll be $50," the guy said tiredly.

"Hmmmmm," Ash said, rubbing his beautiful chin. "Here's the 411 daddio, I'm a little short in the cash department at the moment. You wouldn't happen to have any 'first-time discounts', would you?"

The guy stared back at Ash with a bored expression.

"Might wanna look into that then," Ash said as he begrudgingly reached into his duffel bag for his wallet. "It's basic marketing technique."

As Ash brought his wallet out, the Necronomicon caught on his hand and tumbled out onto the floor of the office.

"Ah crap," Ash said, bending over to pick up the book. That little leather-bound bastard was still giving him trouble after all of these years.

"Yo man! What's that?" one of the teenagers asked from behind Ash.

Standing up again, Ash turned around.

"What? This little shit?" Ash held up the book for emphasis. "It's called the Necronomicon, and it will permanently fuck up your life if you read any of it. Try to think of it like Herpes but in book form."

"What does it do?"

"Emanates evil," Ash replied with mock cheerfulness. "Summons demons, kills all of your friends, leaves the toilet seat up, you name it!"

Ash turned back around and pulled out a fifty-dollar bill.

"Keep the change," Ash said as he turned and left.

The desk guy flipped him the bird behind his back.

Walking back to the trailer, Ash opened the door and stepped inside. The new trailer smell filled his nostrils, and Ash breathed a sigh of contentment has he set down his bag and plopped down onto the bed. Outside, Ash could hear the crowd getting excited as the concert began to start. Electro-bass music boomed and slightly rattled the metal walls of the new trailer. That music was going to keep the entire trailer park awake all night, but Ash had no problem with that. None of his plans for the evening involved getting sleep.

Ash sat up and walked over to the fridge. Pulling out a beer, Ash cracked it open and began to get prepared for the night ahead. All 'getting ready' really meant was checking his hair in the mirror and putting on a splash of cologne. Satisfied with his minimal work on his appearance, Ash set his beer down and stepped outside to take a leak before heading over to the concert. After walking a short distance into the woods, Ash started whistling as he relieved himself, but then stopped when he heard a loud bang and saw a flash of blue light out of the corner of his eye.

Ash frowned and looked over in the direction he thought the light came from, but he couldn't see anything through the dense foliage.

After a few more seconds of searching, Ash shrugged and figured it must have been from the concert, even though the concert had been in the other direction. Whatever.

Ash exhaled and zipped up his pants. Turning on his heel, he started walking towards the direction of the concert, falling into a swagger that worked wonders on the ladies. Ash quickly stopped and turned back to the trailer after he realized that he had almost forgotten his beer. He couldn't forget that. That was one of the two b's he was going to have tonight. Ash chuckled to himself, but then frowned as he looked at the trailer.

The door was open. Had he left it that way? Ash struggled to remember if he had accidently forgotten to shut it before heading out. That question was immediately answered when he heard a voice from inside the trailer. It was a girl's voice, and she was speaking…Sumerian?

"Not good," Ash said as he rushed into the trailer. Inside, there was a girl sitting on his bed, one of those pretty girls form the office. Normally, Ash would've been overjoyed to see her on his bed, except this girl was currently reading a passage from the Necronomicon.

"Du shama, reh tay no!" She chanted. The wind began to blow outside, and in Ash's experience, that had never been a good sign.

"Hey! Stop!" Ash cried out as he rushed forward. He reached out to grab the book from her hands, but she finished the incantation just before he got to it. A burst of energy emanated from the Necronomicon, and Ash was thrown backward into the wall of the trailer.

Pulling himself up Ash looked at the girl as she started laughing.

"Yes! Yes!" she cried out.

"Uh…not yes!" Ash yelled at her. "Do you have any idea what you just did?!"

"Oh yes I do!" The girl cheerfully cried out. "I have awakened the Kandarian Demon, and soon, mankind will kneel before their new rulers! The world will be made whole again!"

"Oh great! Satanists!" Ash yelled, throwing his hands into the air. "Why is it always Satanists that have to ruin my good time?"

Ash suddenly went silent as he heard an all-too-familiar roar in the distance. It was coming. No, it was already here.

Ash looked back at the girl, but she was gone.

"Oh…shit balls," Ash said to himself. He made a beeline for his duffel bag, which contained all of his 'essentials'.

Ash reached inside and pulled out the Boomstick, briefly enjoying the sight of the sawed-off shotgun. It's cobalt blue steel finish and walnut stock always made Ash just a little bit happier when he saw it. Before he could reach back inside and pull out his other baby, the girl jumped from nowhere onto his back, screaming and wailing.

To call her a girl still would be a bit of a stretch, as her body had undergone a hideous transformation. Her eyes were now completely white with no pupils or iris to be seen, her skin bulged in places that skin should never bulge, and her face was now covered in wrinkles and blemishes, as though her own skin no longer fit her.

She was now…a Deadite.

Ash yelled and stood up wildly as the now possessed girl held tight to his back and tried to claw at his flesh. Ash bucked and heaved to try and shake the demon off, but her grip was like iron.

"Yeah, ride em cowboy!" the Deadite called out. A malicious grin appeared on its features.

"Time's up, kiddo!" Ash said as he rammed the Deadite against the wall of the trailer. The Deadite grunted in pain but still held on. Ash stepped forward, then threw his back into the wall again, attempting to squish the Deadite between himself and the wall of the trailer. The Deadite grunted again, but still managed to keep its hold on Ash's back.

Ash was about to try to ram it again when the sound of screeching metal pierced his eardrums. Looking wildly at the source of the noise. Ash realized that the Deadite had now released its grip on his back. Stumbling forward, Ash whirled around to see the Deadite failing about wildly in midair. Closer inspection revealed that an arm had punched through the wall of the trailer and was now holding the Deadite against the wall by the throat, thus suspending her in air. Ash looked at the arm that had pierced the wall of his new trailer and noticed that it appeared to be covered in green armor plating, seemingly a suit of some kind.

Ash was suddenly taken aback as the arm then heaved backward, pulling the Deadite through the wall in a chorus of screaming and metal grinding against itself. As a result of the Deadite being pulled through, a sizeable chunk from the side of Ash's brand-new trailer came through with it.

"Aw man!" Ash yelled. "Now I gotta fix that!"

Grumbling, Ash ran over to his duffel bag. Reaching inside, Ash pulled out his signature baby, the Homelite chainsaw. With a solid click and a snap, Ash locked the chainsaw into place on his stump. Home sweet home. Then with his free hand, Ash yanked hard on the pull cord, and the chainsaw sputtered a bit before roaring to life.

"Yeah!" Ash yelled with vigor before jumping through the man-sized hole in his trailer.

Once outside, Ash raised his chainsaw and shotgun, ready for a fight. What he saw instead was a figure rip the head clean off of the Deadite girl that had been tormenting Ash mere moments ago.

With his bare hands.

Ash stared in bewilderment at the figure. Who was this guy? Was he a demon? And why was he dressed in some sort of futuristic space-suit?

The figure discarded the now headless Deadite, his expression unreadable due to his helmet obstructing his features. Ash spoke up.

"Chief, I appreciate the help, but this situation could've gone a lot better, for me I mean."

Ash gestured to the metal hole in his trailer with his chainsaw hand.

The figure glanced at the hole, then turned his head in the direction of the concert. Ash turned as well. He heard it too. Screams, lots of them, and not the kind you normally hear at concerts. Ash slumped his shoulders as he realized just how many of them were probably Deadites already. And he had a shotgun and a chainsaw. Those odds weren't looking to good. Ah well, at least he had the astronaut over here to help him out. He was going to help right?

Turning back to the figure, Ash held up his shotgun and waved it a little bit.

"I don't suppose you got one of these, do ya spaceman?"

The figure looked back at Ash, then seemingly pulled a large double-barreled shotgun from nowhere. Ash's eyes widened at the sudden appearance of the weapon.

"That's…not bad," Ash said. "It's a good start, but you might need to get your hands dirty. Just sayin."

Ash shouldn't have been surprised as the figure then pulled out a chainsaw of his own, the motor running and idling patiently. Instead, he chose to be impressed.

"Groovy," Ash said with a smirk.

…

The scene at the concert was bloody. Most of the concert-goers were either lying dead on the floor or were shuffling along as Deadites. Some laughing manically while others were ripping limbs off of already dead corpses.

Suddenly, Ash burst through the tree line, yelling as loud as he could and revving the chainsaw. The armored figure ran along right next to him. The Deadites all looked up in surprise, and Ash grinned as he threw himself at the closest ones.

Brandishing his chainsaw, Ash shoved the weapon through the chest of his first unfortunate victim and heaved upward. The chainsaw caught and sprayed blood everywhere, and with one last heave, Ash forced the chainsaw up the Deadite's head and out of the top of its skull. The Deadite was now cut in half from the top of its skull to the sternum, and Ash stepped back as the body split and fell apart. Without hesitation Ash whirled around and shoved the barrel of the shotgun into the mouth of another Deadite and squeezed the trigger. The Deadite's head immediately vaporized as the shotgun fired.

"Yeah! How you holdin up, spaceman?" Ash called turning around to check on the armor-clad figure.

Ash was startled to see that in the time it had taken for him to kill two Deadites, the armored juggernaut had cleaved a massive hole in the crowd with his own chainsaw. His body count easily in the double digits.

"Holy shit…" Ash said under his breath. He was quickly pulled back to the situation at hand as Deadites began to swarm him. Quickly reloading his shotgun, Ash revved the chainsaw again.

"Let's dance!"

Over the course of the next few minutes, Ash and the mysterious armored figure fell into a rhythm of slaughter. Each finding their own pace as they smashed through the horde of former concert-goers.

At one point, the armored Deadite-killing machine had pulled out a fragmentation grenade and had tossed it into the ranks of Deadites. The resulting explosion had sent blood and body parts everywhere, and Ash had almost been hit by a flying arm in the process.

"Yo, Metal Guy! Toss me one of those grenades you got!" Ash called across the carnage.

Without so much as turning his head, the man pulled out another grenade and tossed sideways to Ash, who caught it gracefully.

"I'm gonna eat your limbs!" An approaching female Deadite yelled to Ash. She had blonde hair, and Ash almost lamented having to kill her. Almost.

With little hesitation, Ash stuffed the grenade into the screaming Deadite's mouth, pulled the pin, and kicked her backward into an oncoming crowd of undead.

"Dinner before dessert, babe!"

Then the Deadite exploded, the resulting blast sending any nearby Deadites flying as well.

"You coulda been a hell of a fling…" Ash mourned before charging back into the fray.

A few minutes, half the chainsaw's gas, and a whole lot of shotgun shells later. Ash stepped back and viewed his handiwork. Blood and guts saturated the field where the concert had been, and the sea of red glowed ominously in the light of the fires that had sprung up during the carnage.

Beside him, the armored figure (or Metal Guy, Ash was beginning to like that nickname) stomped on the heads of the remaining Deadites, preventing them from coming back for round two.

Ash had no idea how Metal Guy knew that the Deadite's head had to be removed to ensure its death, but he was glad to see that communication had not been necessary in that regard.

"Name's Ash by the way. Ash Williams."

Metal Guy looked over at Ash, then nodded his head once in acknowledgment before turning back to skull crushing.

"Not much of a talker, huh? Works well for me."

Ash then saw a shiny bit of metal sticking out from under a Deadite's headless corpse. Shifting the corpse to the side, Ash's mood perked up as he realized that it was a full can of beer. Completely unopened.

Despite the fact that the can itself was covered with dirt and blood, Ash wiped it off the best he could before cracking it open and taking a long swig.

He let out a contented sigh after bringing the beer down from his lips, and at that point, Metal Guy walked back over.

Ash frowned slightly.

"You look like you gotta be somewhere else, bucko."

Metal Guy nodded once.

"Well, I don't wanna keep ya. Besides, I should probably bail too." Ash surveyed the horror show around him. It was probably only a few more minutes before the cops showed up, and Ash wouldn't look very innocent covered in blood.

"So anyway, I guess I'll see you around then, Metal Guy," Ash said, raising his beer in a toast.

Metal Guy nodded once again, then reached up and gave Ash a thumbs up with his right hand. With a blue flash of light and a loud bang, Metal Guy was gone.

"Huh, so that's what that light was earlier," Ash said. That explained where the light had come from earlier when he had been squeezing the lemon in the woods. Ash thought he should've been surprised by Metal Guy's sudden appearance and disappearance like that, but in the end, Ash realized that he had seen much stranger things than that.

Shrugging his shoulders, Ash picked up his shotgun and began to walk back to the Delta, leaving the mutilated Deadite bodies behind him.

"Guess I'll have to put the blonde on hold tonight," Ash said with a sigh.

Chapter 4: A Quiet Place

Notes:

A/N: Boom! I'm back sooner than I thought! And this time, I've thrown in a relatively new movie into the mix. This time, the Doom Slayer has found himself in "A Quiet Place", and he's about to make some noise! To be honest, that last joke was terrible, but I simply couldn't resist putting it in there. Anyway, remember to leave a comment expressing your deepest gratitude/disgust at the story! And always remember that I own nothing!

Regan pulled the microphone towards her. They were coming. The first one was dead and now two more were coming. Regan turned to look at the one that now lay dead on the floor. Its head was gone, and blood had begun to pool on the concrete around it. Regan then looked up at her mother, the one who had killed it.

Evelyn looked back at her, shotgun in hand. Regan couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw a slight smile on her mother's face. Her mother then lifted the shotgun into the air and cocked it. Regan did not know what noise the shotgun made when it cycled like that, but she was certain that it sounded intimidating.

Out of the corner of Regan's eye, she caught a glimpse of a bright light suddenly appear on one of the monitors, and her attention instantly was drawn toward it. Evelyn frowned and turned to see what Regan was looking at.

The monitor that the light had come from now displayed an image of what appeared to be a man. The picture was grainy, but Regan saw that he appeared to be wearing some kind of suit, making his figure appear more bulky and jagged. Who was that?

Evelyn and Regan shared a brief look of confusion before turning back to the monitor. The man seemed to be scanning the area, as though he was looking for something. He seemed to find it when in the distance, Regan saw the two creatures burst through the tree line, moving impossibly fast in a straight line towards the man, who stared back at them.

Regan watched as the man suddenly produced a large machine out of nowhere. She couldn't make out the details of what the man was holding, but it was almost as large as she was, and the man seemed to be holding it in both hands with ease. The creatures were almost upon him now, but the man still stood his ground, silently holding the bulking machine in his hands. One of the creatures reached him first, and Regan's heart jumped as the creature leapt into the air with on giant claw raised, ready to crush the man.

Regan's anguish suddenly turned into surprise as the machine kicked in the man's hands, and a beam shot out from the end, striking the monster square in the chest. The force of the beam overpowered the monster's momentum, and the creature flailed wildly as it was blasted backward like a rag doll.

At this point, the second creature reached the man, and Regan watched as he rolled out of the way when the creature reached out to strike him. The man came out of his roll, and suddenly had another item in his hands. This item was smaller, and Regan could only guess that it was another weapon. She was quickly proven correct as the man fired the weapon at the monster that had swiped at him, and the creature reeled backward from the force of the impact. The man then fired at the creature again, then again. Taking slow steps forward with each shot as he closed the distance. The weapon appeared to be a shotgun, as Regan could make out the movement of the man pumping the gun each time he fired. Regan watched each muzzle flash through the camera, and when the man had finally reached the creature, he took one hand off the shotgun and grabbed the monster's head. The other hand was still holding the shotgun, and Regan gasped again as the man brought the weapon up to the creature's neck and squeezed the trigger.

Blood erupted from the creature's neck, and with a heave, the man pulled the monster's head free from its shoulders. Regan felt a myriad of emotions at the scene before her, but all were immediately overpowered by dread as both her and the man seemed to have forgotten about the other monster, which had recovered from the beam weapon he had used on it earlier.

Regan cried out as the creature closed the distance and swatted the man as he turned. The force of the melee attack sent the man flying through the air and off-screen. The monster roared then charged off-camera as well to the direction the man had flown to. No other cameras were in a position to see what was happening.

At this sight, Evelyn seemed to regain her senses. Turning around, quickly signed to both Regan and Marcus, who still sat safely in the corner with the baby.

'Stay here.' Her hands said as she rushed for the stairs. Regan quickly ran to follow, but Evelyn turned around and put a hand on her shoulder, shaking her head no.

Evelyn showed her the hearing implant in her hand.

'I can help!' She signed franticly.

Evelyn considered for a moment, then slowly nodded her head. Together, the two of them ran up the stairs. At the top, they rounded the corner and sprinted out the front door.

Regan quickly scanned the field in an attempt to find where the man and creature had gone. Evelyn then pointed in a direction off to their left, and the two of them sprinted in that direction. They ran for a few seconds, then Regan saw the two of them. The creature was crawling on the ground a short distance away. Both of its legs were missing, and one of its arms was broken in multiple places, making it unusable. Its black skin was also covered with burns, some sizzling against its thick hide while others seared through its armored exterior to the soft skin beneath. The creature was attempting to crawl away with its remaining arm, but the man was quickly closing the distance. He had another weapon in his hands, but this one appeared to be smaller, and almost unorthodox in its design. It looked like something from the future, and Regan kept glancing at it as the mother and daughter ran to the scene.

Evelyn waved her free hand and called out to the man, and he paused and turned to look at the two of them as they ran up. As they reached him, Regan realized that the hearing implant was still turned on because the creature began twitching and writhing on the ground, its mouth opening and closing in what Regan guessed were screams and howls. The plates on its head were opening and closing as well, and Regan watched as they opened wide and exposed the sensitive pink skin underneath. The man noticed this as well, and he looked from the approaching duo to the creature and back again, not understanding what the cause of the pain was. Evelyn and Regan stopped a few feet away and took a moment to catch their breath. The figure was still looking back and forth from the creature to them, but he now focused in on the implant in Regan's hand. He knew. Somehow, and Regan had no idea how, he knew.

He then turned and fired a burst of the futuristic weapon into the creature's head. Bright blue pulses burst into the creature's cranium, and the creature immediately fell still.

The man then turned back to them, and Regan saw him up close for the first time. Up close, she saw that he was wearing a suit of armor that covered every inch of his body, even his head. The visor that covered his face was pitch black, and his helmet had a strange marking just above his left eyebrow.

Evelyn then began speaking to the figure, the shotgun held closely at her side as she conversed with the armored figure. Regan didn't know if the man spoke or not, as his visor covered his face, so reading lips had been impossible. When Regan thought about it, he looked like a hero from those sci-fi movies that she had scavenged before.

Both Evelyn and the figure then turned their heads to the nearby tree line. Both of them seemingly hearing the something from that direction. While the man betrayed no emotion, Evelyn's face suddenly contorted in fear, and as Regan looked in that direction as well, what she saw made her blood run cold.

In the distance, trees began shaking and rattling. Not just one, but dozens, indicating that something big was coming. Or many smaller things. Then closer trees started shaking, then closer ones, then closer ones…

The man suddenly pointed toward the house, and Regan barely had time to think before her mother grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the tree line and back to the house. As Regan ran, she looked over her shoulder to see the armored man running directly toward the shaking trees, which were still growing closer. He was fast, almost faster than the monsters were. What was he?

As they reached the house, Evelyn pulled Regan back down the stairs and into the basement, slamming the door behind them. The pair rushed down the stairs, and Evelyn beckoned Marcus over to them as they ran to the monitors. Regan quickly scanned each screen until she saw the one that covered the tree line. She squinted hard, and she just caught the sight of the man as he disappeared into the foliage.

For a few moments, everything was still, then Regan saw faint flashes of light appear from the tree line. The flashes were sporadic and faint, but Regan could not see anything else through the dense trees. Evelyn and Marcus both turned their heads slightly, and Regan caught on that there must have been a lot of noise coming from the tree line.

Suddenly, a large flash of light engulfed the camera feed, then each camera suddenly went to static before Regan's eyes. She stared confused for a second, then a massive tremor shook the house. The initial shockwave took Regan's breath from her body, and Evelyn grabbed Regan and Marcus and held them close to her. Regan could feel the vibrations rattle her bones to the core as the tremor subsided.

The cameras were still all static, but Regan watched her mother's face. She could tell that there was still noise coming from outside, and then she ducked her head and squeezed her family tight as another tremor shook the foundations of the house. Regan had no doubt as to the source of the explosion, but that only made her all the more scared as she clung to her family for dear life. The tremor subsided, and Regan looked up at her mother, searching for any information.

Evelyn waited for a few moments, then slowly stood up and took a step back, her eyes moving around quickly. She appeared to be listening. All appeared to be quiet, and Evelyn motioned the kids to follow her up the stairs. At the top, she gently nudged the door open with the shotgun, and Regan waited and watched as she led them outside and onto the front porch. Regan's eyes widened as they started walking towards the tree line.

The tree line was now scorched, with a few small fires springing up at the entrance. Trees were now leaning sideways or falling over, but what stood out most of all was that there were now two places where the trees had entirely disappeared. Two barren rings of emptiness broke the uninterrupted foliage, and the trees around the outside appeared blackened and broken. Their leaves had all been burned away.

And out of the tree line walking towards them, was the armored man. This time, he was carrying a massive weapon, even bigger than the one that he had used before. Regan stared in awe as he approached, his armor seemingly unharmed despite the obvious carnage that had just occurred.

Evelyn began speaking to him again, but this time, she used sign language as well so that Regan could understand too.

'Are they all gone?'

The man nodded.

Evelyn's shoulders relaxed, and she continued.

'There are more. Everywhere. All across the world.'

The man may have said something, but he did not sign any response.

'You could stay. You could help us fight.'

At this, the man shook his head no.

'Please,' Evelyn desperately signed. 'We cannot fight them on our own.'

In response, the man turned and pointed at the implant in Regan's hand, then at a point in the distance. Regan followed his finger with her eyes, and just at the edge of her vision, she saw a long spire reaching into the sky. It was a radio tower, and Regan immediately understood where the man was going with this. Evelyn seemed uncertain for a few moments, then she nodded as well.

'Thank you. Thank you so much.'

The man nodded once. Then he took a step back. He surveyed the family for a moment, then gave them a thumbs up.

Regan saw a flash of blue light, then the man was gone. Regan could not believe her eyes.

The family stared baffled at the spot he had disappeared from. Regan looked around wildly, trying to see if she could see him sneaking away somewhere. Seeing nothing, she turned and looked back to see that Evelyn had taken the baby from Marcus, who approached her. He seemed a little bit shaken up. Regan signed to him her concerns.

'I'm alright,' he signed back. 'I just have never seen anything like that before.'

Regan nodded.

'Where did he go?'

'I don't know,' Marcus responded. 'He just disappeared.'

'Did he say anything? At all?'

'No.'

Regan turned to look at the forest again. And for the first time in a long time, a genuine smile crept onto her face.

Chapter 5: The Hills Have Eyes

Notes:

A/N: Hey howdy hey! I'm back, and this time, The Doom Slayer is getting wound in an adventure in Yuma Flats, New Mexico. A place where "The Hills Have Eyes", and the Doom Slayer is itching to rip them out! So, without further ado, let's begin! Remember: I own none of this!

David "Napoleon" Napoli sat down tiredly on a protruding rock face. The sun was starting to set on the jagged rock hills, causing the shadows to lengthen across the dusty landscape. Napoleon glanced over to Amber, who was currently helping Missy settle into a better position. Missy was still injured, and Napoleon and Amber had supported her on their trip down the hill so far. Napoleon felt a sense of urgency as we watched the shadows lengthen even more. If they didn't hurry, it would be dark before they could make it back to the road. Since the truck had been burned, there was no other way for them to make it out of this desert. They would have to get to the road and hitchhike their way back to Yuma Flats. Unfortunately for them, the town was still at least 40 miles away, and he knew if he were a truck driver, there'd be little to no chance he would pick up 3 people in blood-covered national guard uniforms.

Sighing, Napoleon ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to rationalize the day's events. His team had been sent in to resupply the scientists that had been conducting research in the rocky hills in New Mexico, and when they had arrived, the camp had been completely deserted. They had later discovered that everyone in the group had been killed by the mutants that populated the hills, and in turn, they began killing everyone in his team too. Missy had been captured by them for breeding purposes, but Amber and himself had shown up and saved her, killing almost every single one of her captors in the process. And now they were attempting to get back down the hills before they stumbled around in the dark all night.

Napoleon shook his head in exasperation, even he had trouble believing his own story. Amber seemed to pick up on his distress, and the blonde patted Missy on the shoulder before walking over and sitting next to him.

"You doin ok?" she asked, looking at him intently.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm alright. Just having trouble believing that all of this is really happening." He said, looking at her briefly before looking back to the ground.

Amber's eyes drifted back to the ground for a moment too before she spoke.

"I guess none of us signed up for this."

Napoleon laughed lightly despite his lack of energy.

"Yeah, my recruiter neglected to mention this part to me."

Amber smiled back briefly before patting Napoleon on the shoulder as well. Standing back up, she walked back over to where Missy was propped up on the ground. Napoleon watched them for a second, then turned around to survey the area. If he craned his neck just a little bit, he thought he could see a slope that they would be able to get Missy down with little to no issue.

Napoleon turned around to tell the other two but stopped short as he saw that both women were no laying on the ground. They were not moving, almost like they were asleep. Napoleon frowned, his senses instantly on high alert.

"Guys?" he said, jumping to his feet. He heard slight rustling behind him, but before he could turn around, there was a hard crack against his skull. Napoleon saw a flash of white, and a bolt of pain shot behind his eyes before everything went black.

…

Napoleon awoke with a start, and he suddenly became acutely aware of a searing pain behind his eyelids. He immediately tried to grab his head in pain, but he couldn't move his arms. Napoleon opened his eyes, and immediately felt slightly nauseous as his head throbbed again. He felt a knot forming at the back of his head, and it didn't take a genius for him to figure out that was the cause of his pain. He groaned as he tried to remember how that knot got there. The last thing he remembered was seeing Missy and Amber lying on the ground…

Shit! Where were they?

Napoleon immediately snapped his head upright to attention. Unfortunately for him, the back of his head struck something hard, and he exhaled through his teeth as his head exploded in pain.

This time Napoleon slowly brought his head up as his vision began to clear. The first thing that he noticed was that it was dark, extremely dark, and he blinked to try and adjust his eyes. Slowly, more details came into focus.

From what he could see, he was indoors. The room he was in wasn't very big, so there wasn't much to go off of. If he squinted, he could slowly start to make out what appeared to be two beds. They appeared to be against the wall opposite to him, and as Napoleon squinted harder, he could see that the beds weren't empty. There appeared to be a figure in each one, but Napoleon couldn't see anything beyond that until he caught a flash of familiar blonde hair…

Napoleon immediately tried to stand up, but he was cut short as something again kept him from doing so. He examined himself, and he realized that both of his arms were tied behind his back, and that he himself was tied to a large wooden post. Napoleon struggled to get free from his bonds, but they were secured tight.

"Don't struggle too much, they might hear you."

Napoleon jumped at the sudden voice, and he looked to his immediate right to see that there was someone else in the room with him. Upon closer inspection, Napoleon saw that this person was tied to a post in a sitting position as well, his arms tight behind his back.

"Who…who are you?" Napoleon asked as the man came into view.

"My name is Doug. Doug Bukowski," the man said back. He had long hair, and glasses on his face.

"Where are we?" Napoleon asked, trying again to break free of his bonds.

"In one of the makeshift villages, the ones they used for testing," Doug replied. "This village is used by the Neptune clan."

"Clan? What are you talking about?" Napoleon asked, shaking his head in confusion.

"They used to be one united people, all of the ugly fucks," Doug said. "But when conflict came up, they split off into different parts of the hills. The testing villages, the mines, anywhere they can find shelter and people to prey on. There's usually only about six to ten in a clan, and from what I've heard, you guys took out almost an entire clan on your own."

Napoleon thought back to what had transpired previously.

"Wait a second, how do you know that?"

"They've got the surveillance equipment that your science team was using, they've been tracking you guys from the start. You guys wiped out the Hades clan, not bad. I heard that Hades himself was pretty big."

Napoleon shook his head, every answer Doug gave prompted at least two more questions.

"So, how…who…why are you here?"

"Two years ago, my in-laws decided to go to California for their silver anniversary. It could've been a nice trip, except they had the brilliant idea of taking a trailer instead of flying. We came up this way and got stuck, then they attacked. Killed my wife and her parents, I barely made it out with my baby and siblings. After we made it back home, the Army took us in for questioning. Asked us about how they lived and what they were, then they ordered the search and destroy missions to this area."

"So, you're the ones…" Napoleon said, almost to himself. He had heard rumors about the operations, but nothing about why it had happened. Doug nodded.

"I told them that mutants would hide. They know these hills better than anyone, and there would be no way that the Army could exterminate all of them, but they didn't listen. And so of course it didn't work. The only way to kill them all for good is to blow the entrance to the mines, then glass anything that moves in this area."

Napoleon listened patiently.

"Then I heard that they were sending a team out here to set up surveillance equipment, but they were only sending a one-man escort out with them. I came up here to warn them, to convince them to stay away, but I was too late. They killed them all and brought me here shortly afterward."

"But why you? Why didn't they kill you like they did the others?"

"They recognized me. I killed almost everyone in the Jupiter clan, and now they want revenge. I'm guessing they've got big plans for you guys too."

Napoleon wanted to say something, but at that moment, Missy and Amber stirred on the beds. They both looked around groggily for a second, then they both saw that they were restrained. Missy immediately lost her composure.

"No! NO! No, please!" she cried out, sobs escaping her throat.

"Missy!" Napoleon called. "Calm down!" But Missy either did not hear him or didn't care. She began thrashing against the bed, trying everything she could to escape.

"Not again! Not again!"

Napoleon wanted comfort her, to say something, but he understood her fear. She had been strapped to a different bed not long before this, and Napoleon knew that nothing good had happened because of it. He glanced sidelong at Doug and realized that Doug knew more than anyone what that was like. Doug had fought back by himself two years ago, and now the nightmare was real again.

Missy immediately quieted as the door burst open, and through it stepped a massive mutant. At least as big as the last one Napoleon killed, if not bigger. His face was wrinkled and contorted horribly, like something from a nightmare. A malicious sneer appeared on his features as he looked from the women on the bed to the men tied to the posts. His breathing was heavy, and he grunted constantly, making him seem even more of a monster than he was.

"You…kill…Hades" the behemoth said, pointing at Napoleon. His voice was slow but loud. Napoleon said nothing and stared back at him. This seemed to anger the massive mutant, and he clenched his fists before increasing his voice to a yell.

"You…kill…my brother!" he yelled out. He then looked at the women viciously. Then back at Napoleon, pointing at the women on the beds.

"Take from me…I take from you!"

Napoleon yelled out in rage as the massive mutant started towards the beds, but another smaller mutant suddenly appeared in the doorway. Its horribly contorted face was even more contorted with fear.

"Papa! Monster…outside!"

The larger mutant turned around and yelled in anger and dismissal at the new arrival. The smaller one flinched at his leader's yelling but stayed where he was in the door way.

"No monster!" The behemoth roared. "Go away!"

"It real! It…it metal!"

The smaller mutant's head suddenly exploded with a loud bang. Blood and brain matter splattered everywhere, including the larger mutant, who bellowed in surprise and stumbled backward. Heavy footsteps sounded from the end of the hallway, getting louder and louder until a figure stepped into the doorway. Napoleon didn't know what to think as he took in its strange appearance. The smaller mutant had been right. The figure was covered in a suit of metal armor, and Napoleon felt a vibe of war and combat coming off of the figure in waves. That also could have been due to the shotgun that rested in the figure's hands.

Napoleon watched as the figure looked from him and Doug tied to the posts, to Missy and Amber tied to the beds, and finally to the mutant standing in the center of the room.

The mutant then yelled out and charged forward towards the figure.

"Look out!" Napoleon yelled, but he soon discovered that his words were unnecessary as the armored figure reached out and kicked the charging mutant directly on his kneecap.

The mutant cried out in pain as his knee shattered with a sickening crunch. He crumpled to the floor. His knee was bending in the wrong direction, and he bellowed in agony as he writhed on the floor. The figure then stepped over the blubbering cripple and into the room. Napoleon remained silent as the figure walked over to wear Doug sat, still tied to the post. In one motion, the figure reached out, grabbed a handful of the ropes that restrained Doug, and pulled. Napoleon's eyes widened as the ropes snapped under the strain the figure was applying. A feat of strength like that should have been impossible, and Napoleon concluded that he must have been hallucinating from exhaustion.

Once Doug was free, the figure walked back over to the crying mutant on the floor and dragged him out into the hallway by his shattered knee, causing the mutant to cry out with renewed vigor. Napoleon heard the cries grow faint as the distance increased.

Doug wasted no time standing up and shaking off his now useless restraints. He ran over to Amber and Missy first, producing a knife from his pocket and cutting their bindings. Once they had been freed, Doug ran over to Napoleon and cut his ropes as well.

"Who was that?" Napoleon asked as Doug slashed through his bindings.

"That was Papa Neptune. Papa Hades was his brother, but I'm sure you guessed that already."

"No! Who was the guy with the gun?" Napoleon yelled impatiently.

Doug put the knife in his pocket and helped Napoleon up. He stood back as Missy and Amber walked over, rubbing their wrists where the ropes had dug in.

"I don't know," Doug said. "I thought he was with you."

"I sure as hell hope he is," Missy said.

"Whoever he's with, it's definitely not them," Amber said. "It almost feels like he hates them."

"Either way, we need to get out of here," Napoleon said.

Doug pulled the knife back out of his pocket. "Ok, let's go."

The three of them followed Doug as he led the way out of the dark room and into the hallway. The first thing Napoleon noticed was that they were indeed inside a house. At least, that was what it seemed to be. Pictures of people were on the walls, and the walls themselves had decorative wallpaper. As they continued down the hallway, Napoleon heard the wailing of the crippled mutant. It was getting louder. Doug turned right, and the four of them were suddenly in what appeared to be a large living room with windows to the outside. Which was were the wailing was coming from.

Napoleon cautiously walked over to a window and peaked outside. It was dark out, but the moon was full, so Napoleon could see fairly clearly. He realized that Doug had been correct, they were in a village. Other houses sat nearby, each one almost a carbon copy of the next, and Napoleon assumed that the one they were in was no different. Through the middle of the village ran a dirt road that twisted and disappeared out of sight. But Napoleon paid little attention to that as he saw the figure and the mutant a little way down the road.

The figure had dragged the hollering creature into what appeared to be the direct center of town. As Napoleon watched, the figure reached down and twisted the mutant's broken knee, causing it to scream even louder. Napoleon cringed at the noise, and he felt the others join him at the window.

"What is he doing?" Amber asked, her voice shaking slightly.

"Giving that fucker what he deserves," Missy spat.

"No," Doug said. He was silent for a moment, seemingly contemplating something. Then he spoke again. "He's luring the others out."

Napoleon, Missy, and Amber all turned to look at Doug, and he turned his head to look back at them.

"I said before that they know these hills better than anyone, and that means that they can run and escape. But they won't do that until their leader is dead. And it's obvious that he is still alive, so they are obliged to fight to protect him. Some of them are cowards though, they will stay and hide until the leader is dead, but they won't fight, even though they are obligated to. They'll make a break for it after Papa Neptune is dead."

"And…and he knows that too?" Napoleon asked.

"Honestly, I doubt it," Doug said, looking back to the scene outside. "But he knows that he's caught the head honcho, so his best chance of getting them to come out is to keep doing what he's doing."

As Doug said it, Napoleon suddenly saw movement in one of the houses nearby. Then his eyes caught movement in another house, then another, then another…

"Uh…Doug? How many did you say were usually in a tribe?"

Doug gulped. His eyes had been on the houses too, and Napoleon was sure that they both were thinking the same thing.

"I may be mista…"

The dark street was suddenly alight with gunfire. The deafening sound of multiple rifles firing at once pounded on Napoleon's eardrums, and he was momentarily blinded by the muzzle flashes that suddenly erupted from every house at once.

"Get down!" Doug cried out over the noise, and Napoleon felt Amber throw him to the ground unceremoniously before falling down next to him.

The gunfire continued, though thankfully the mutants didn't seem to be aiming for the house, as no holes appeared in the walls or ceiling. Napoleon stupidly lifted his head and stole a glance out the window. There were still the sounds of gun fire, but the only muzzle flash was coming from the house across the street, and it appeared to be firing inward, not towards the house they were currently in. Looking back to the middle of the street, Napoleon saw Papa Neptune lying motionless and dead on the ground. His body had been peppered with bullets, but the figure was nowhere to be found. Napoleon turned to look at Doug.

"Doug! We need to get out of the line of fire! Does this place have a back door?"

"Most do, let's go!"

The four of them started crawling towards the back of the house. Suddenly, the front door slammed open, and the four of them turned to see a large mutant lumber into the house, a rifle resting in his hands. Napoleon froze in fear as the mutant turned his head slowly towards the three of them. It took him a moment, but once he registered fully what he was seeing, the mutant roared and pointed the rifle towards them, but Doug was already there.

Napoleon felt bafflement as he realized that Doug had already been moving when the front door opened. The knife had reappeared in his hand, and Doug buried it to the hilt into the mutant's neck. The mutant attempted to cry out in surprise and pain, but all that came out was a strained gurgle. Doug then pulled the knife out and stabbed again and again. The mutant stumbled for a bit, then fell hard to the floor and went still.

"Holy shit!" Missy yelled. Doug was now covered in the mutant's blood, and he now looked a lot more feral than he had been just a few moments ago.

Without hesitation, Doug slid the knife over to Napoleon before picking the rifle up from off the floor.

"Let's go," Doug said again, slightly out of breath.

Napoleon froze for a moment more, thinking about the sudden change that had come over Doug just now. How badly must he have been hurt by these monsters to suddenly switch gears like that. Doug motioned for them to follow him, and Napoleon and the girls didn't argue as they followed Doug to the rear of the house. Napoleon held the knife ready in his hand, determined not to be caught off guard again. The sounds of gunfire still saturated the air around them, but there seemed to be less rifles making noise than before.

"Is he…winning?" Amber asked.

"I don't know much about that guy," Missy said from behind. "But I get the feeling that he doesn't lose very often."

Napoleon silently nodded in agreement, more to himself than the others. Doug quickly led them through the back door and out into the night. Doug turned right outside the door, and the group followed single file, keeping in the shadow of the house.

When they reached the corner, Doug silently motioned to them, indicating that they were going to make a break for the next house over. They all silently nodded back, so Doug turned and ran across the open ground, the others following behind. They had made it about halfway across the gap when a shot rang out. Doug cried out in pain and fell to the ground.

"No!" Napoleon yelled, immediately grabbing Doug and dragging him the rest of the way.

"Quick! Inside!" he yelled as he struggled to bring Doug through the back door of the next house. Amber and Missy helped him through then shut and locked the door as Napoleon dragged Doug to a corner and propped him up.

Doug was still conscious, but his teeth were grit in pain and his eyes were squeezed shut.

"The leg! In…In the leg!" Doug spat, grunting.

Napoleon checked his legs and found the wound. The bullet had entered through his right calf, and blood was now oozing from the area. Napoleon quickly applied pressure to the area and turned around and yelled at Amber.

"Get a towel! We gotta wrap this up!"

Amber nodded frantically and ran into the next room, disappearing from sight. Missy quickly followed. Limping slightly on her bad leg.

"Just hold on," Napoleon reassured Doug. "We will get you patched up."

"I really hate those ugly bastards…" Doug said back, causing Napoleon to chuckle a bit.

Amber and Missy returned with a few towels and a bottle of what looked like peroxide. Napoleon nodded his thanks, then quickly ripped open Doug's pant leg and unscrewed the cap from the peroxide.

"This is gonna hurt," he said to Doug.

"What?" Doug said back, but Napoleon was already pouring the liquid into his wound. Doug growled through his teeth but did his best to keep the noise to a minimum.

Napoleon then wiped off the excess blood and peroxide from the area and began applying a basic tourniquet with a towel, getting Amber to help him make it tight. When he was finished, he sat back and took a deep breath.

"That will hold it for now. But we need to get you to a hospital once we are clear."

Suddenly, Napoleon realized that it had grown very quiet. Eerily so, in fact. No gunfire, no screaming, no wind even. He could hear his heartbeat reverberate through his body. Slowly, he turned his head to look at Amber and Missy, and both of them stared back, unsure of what was happening.

Then the wall next to them exploded as a huge mutant went soaring through it. Amber screamed as the mutant crashed to the ground, grunting in pain. Through the new hole stepped the figure, momentarily glancing at the four of them before turning back to the mutant writhing on the floor.

Out of nowhere, another mutant appeared through the hole with a metal baseball bat. With a yell, the mutant swung the bat at the figure. Despite the mutant's obvious brute strength, the bat clanged harmlessly of the side of the figure's helmet, and Napoleon saw desperation appear on the mutant's face as seemingly no damage was done. The figure then turned around and grabbed the mutant by the throat with one hand. The mutant gasped for air as the metal enigma hoisted him high in the air. The mutant then began kicking and thrashing, dropping the baseball bat in an attempt to relinquish the figure's grip on its throat. In one brutal movement, the figure slammed the mutant back down to the ground. The mutant exhaled and moved no more.

The figure then turned its attention to the other mutant, who was now propped up on one knee in its attempt to stand. The figure took a running start towards the mutant, then brought its knee hard into the mutant's skull. The momentum of the strike overwhelmed the structural integrity of the mutant's head, and the skull caved and exploded as the figure's knee went through it. Fresh blood splattered on the walls and ceiling as the mutant's now headless corpse toppled to the floor.

The figure stared at the body for a moment before lifting its head up and listening for a moment. Napoleon listened as well, but there was no noise. The night had fallen silent again. The figure seemed content and turned to look at the four of them, its gaze traveling across each of them in turn. No one said anything.

The figure studied them for a few moments more, then lifted its arm and gave them a thumbs up with its right hand. A bright blue flash suddenly flooded Napoleon's vision, and a loud bang was heard. The light vanished suddenly, and Napoleon blinked away the afterimage as his eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden changes in brightness.

After his vision cleared, Napoleon looked to see that the figure was gone. He looked questioningly to the others, but they seemed just as baffled as he was. The group remained silent for a few more moments, then Napoleon slowly stood up and hoisted Doug up under his shoulder. Nodding to Amber, who was supporting Missy, the four of them dusted themselves off and slowly walked out of the front door and into the night.

A pair of eyes watched from the distance…

Chapter 6: Harry Potter

Notes:

A/N: Haha! I live! And this time, the Doom Slayer has arrived in the wizarding world of "Harry Potter." Time to make some magic happen! To be honest, I had been toying with using this universe due to the massive difference in genre and style that the two franchises appeal to, but I figured there are plenty of beasts and evil creatures for the Doom Slayer to have fun with. I might consider doing more stories in the "Harry Potter" universe if it clicks well with the audience, but we will see. Either way, be sure to let me know what you thought! Also, I own none of this!

Harry paused to shake mud from his boot before continuing down the path. On his left, Ron and Hermione did the same. Harry heard Ron mutter under his breath about his boots being brand new. Hermione said nothing, she seemed more focused on making sure her camera was in working order.

"Remind me again what we are doing out in the middle of nowhere?" Ron asked, looking up from his boots.

"I told you, Ronald," Hermione answered with a roll of her eyes. "The Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures received an anonymous tip that someone was illegally breeding dragons out here. As a high-ranking member of the Department, such an important case has been passed on to me. If someone has really been breeding dragons illegally, who knows how many there could be out here? We've seen the damage just one can do, Harry more than anyone!"

"Right, dear," Ron said. "But then why are we out here by ourselves instead of with half the Ministry at our backs?"

"Because Ron…" Harry spoke. "This is purely a scouting mission. We don't know if anything is actually out here. If we come charging out here with a full batch of Aurors, and it turns out to be nothing, then we wasted all our resources on nothing, haven't we?"

"Possibly numerous dangerous dragons with no backup…got it," Ron said, grumpily kicking at a pebble in his path.

Harry understood Ron's unhappiness. The large forest they were walking through was certainly beautiful to look at, but the rain the night before had turned the ground into a thoroughly muddy mess. The overcast sky also didn't help the dour mood, giving everything a slightly grayish tint in color. The three of them had forgone apparating to their location due to the attention it would draw, and Harry tried not to miss the convenient mode of transportation as he trudged on.

"There!" Ron said excitedly, pointing through the thick trees.

The foliage was so dense that Harry could hardly see anything, but when he looked further, he could see the outline of a cabin appear a little way off the path. The cabin wasn't very large, certainly not something a dragon could fit in, but it was certainly worth a look.

The three of them turned off the path and started toward the cabin. The going was slow due to constant waist-high plants impeding their path. Ron muttered his disdain again, but Hermione shushed him, as they didn't want to alert to anyone that they were coming.

Reaching the door of the cabin, the trio shared a look before Harry reached out and knocked sharply against the wooden door. Silence followed. None of them heard any rustling from within, no voices, or no locks unlocking.

Harry knocked again, and still no answer came.

"Perhaps they're asleep?" Hermione ventured quietly.

"HELLO IN THERE!" Ron shouted, causing Hermione to flinch and smack Ron in the arm.

"Ouch…" Ron said, rubbing his now tender arm.

"What did I say, Ron?!" Hermione hissed at him through gritted teeth.

"Just trying to help us along is all," Ron said, deflated.

Deciding that keeping quiet was no longer an option, Harry reached out and tried the door handle.

Locked.

Producing his wand from within his robes, Harry pointed at the lock.

"Alohomora," Harry said clearly. There was a metallic clicking from inside the lock for a moment, then the handle turned, and the door opened slowly.

Harry spared a glance at the others before pushing through the door and into the cabin. Ron and Hermione followed behind him. Inside, the cabin appeared to be nothing extraordinary. There was a living room with a few chairs and a coffee table, a kitchen with everything one might expect in it, and what appeared to be a small dining room. Beyond that was a door leading out the back of the cabin, and to the side was another door that Harry supposed led to a bedroom of sorts.

Walking cautiously, wand at the ready, Harry made his way over to the bedroom door. Slowly, Harry turned the knob and pushed the door inward, revealing the room beyond. Inside, Harry's suspicious were confirmed true.

In addition to a bed in the corner of the small bedroom, there were tables and shelves stacked with parchment with hasty scribbled-notes filling the pages. More parchment hung from the walls, drawings and schematics of dragons pictured on nearly all of them. Glancing around the room, Harry saw that there was enough evidence to put someone away for a very long time. Harry turned back to Ron and Hermione, who had followed him through the door.

"I think we can call that backup now."

A loud rumbling suddenly came from outside the house, and the three of them turned to the source of the noise. It had come from the back of the property, and Harry did not want to entertain any vile possibilities that the noise could have come from.

"Right then!" Ron said whipping out his wand with haste. "Let's get that batch of Aurors!"

Harry and Hermione watched as Ron then…stayed where he was. There was no crack, no sudden disappearance, no whip of wind as the apparition occurred. Ron stayed right where he was. After a few moments, Ron seemed to realize that he was still in the cabin, and a confused and slightly panicked look appeared on his face.

"You feeling ill, Ron?" Harry asked.

Ron gave his wand a frantic shake, then really began to panic.

"It's not working! I can't apparate!"

Harry and Hermione both pulled out their wands and attempted to apparate as well to no avail. There must have been some protective charms placed on the cabin to prevent anyone from apparating in or out.

The rumbling noise came again. Harry heard the walls of the cabin slightly shake in response. Even the cabin itself seemed nervous as to what was out there.

Slowly, Harry walked out of the bedroom and to the back door of the cabin.

"Are you mad!?" Ron whispered as Harry placed his hand on the door handle. Harry spared him a look, then cautiously opened the door and stepped outside.

The scene out the back door of the cabin proved to be not much different than the front. The back yard of the cabin was a small clearing barely larger than the cabin itself. Around the small clearing, the forest foliage resumed its thick and robust presence.

Harry scanned the area as Ron and Hermione emerged from the cabin behind him. Harry couldn't see anything past the trees and plants at the edge of the clearing. All was still.

Then the trees at the far end of the clearing exploded, and out through the hole emerged the largest dragon Harry had ever seen. It was even larger than the dragon that had been guarding the Lestrange vault in Gringotts, which was a difficult feat to math. The dragon itself appeared to be mostly black in color, except for on its legs and its face, which melted into a pale white color. Harry caught a sense of familiarity before Hermione roughly shoved him out of the way as the dragon roared and breathed fire at the trio.

Harry stumbled for a moment, but then picked up the pace as the heat of the flames licked at his robes. The cabin had been right in the way, and the old wood had easily caught, rendering the structure in flames in a matter of seconds. The three of them quickly jumped behind the nearest tree as the dragon roared again. It's roar sounded like a deep yowling that reverberated through Harry's entire being.

The three of them cringed at the noise from behind the tree, and Hermione turned to face them.

"It's worse than I thought!" she shouted over the roaring flames of the cabin. "That is the first successful hybrid between a Ukrainian Ironbelly and a Hungarian Horntail!"

"Horntail!?" Ron said back. "You mean the most temperamental of dragons?!"

"And the Ukrainian Ironbelly! The largest species of dragon!" Hermione yelled back.

"Just our bloody luck! Why do you keep doing this to us, Harry!?" Ron grabbed Harry by the shoulders and shook him violently.

Ron's outburst was cut short as the dragon ripped the tree they were hiding behind straight out from the ground. The trio stumbled backward as the dragon threw the tree to the side with its powerful jaws. It then growled and lunged for them.

Harry prepared to roll to the side, but Hermione already had her wand at the ready.

"Reducto!"

A bright flash erupted from the tip of Hermione's wand and exploded against the hybrid dragon's snout. The creature roared in pain and reeled backward. Giving Harry just enough time to roll over and dash to the dragon's rear. As long as Harry stayed behind the creature, he was in its blind spot. Ron and Hermione dashed after him.

The dragon recovered from Hermione's well-placed spell and looked around for its prey. Harry stood perfectly still behind the creature as it looked from left to right. While dragons had always been some of the most dangerous creatures in the world, a recent discovery had unearthed that the safest spot from a dragon was behind it. Because despite having a rather high amount of intelligence, for some reason, dragons often refused to look behind themselves. It had no logical or magical explanation, but that did not stop Harry from being eternally grateful for it at this moment.

The gargantuan dragon then sniffed the air, then turned its head and looked directly at the three of them.

Harry stood frozen in fear and shock as their best line of defense had just been shattered against the beast before them. So much for that plan. The dragon growled yet again, but Harry could not will himself to move as the beast turned around and prepared to strike.

Suddenly, a violent burst of blue light exploded in front of the dragon, and both human and beast were temporarily blinded by the light as a loud bang resounded through the clearing.

Harry blinked rapidly and looked to the source as the light faded suddenly. Directly between the trio and the dragon now stood a figure. The figure was wearing a dark green armor with a helm to match, and at first sight, Harry thought the figure looked like one of the suits of armor that stood in the hallways of Hogwarts. Upon closer inspection, Harry saw that the suit was indeed a different style, and though it did bear resemblance to the suits that Harry was accustomed to, this one seemed different. It seemed to be made of a combination of metal and other materials, and Harry remembered that he had indeed seen something like this in some children's action comics from the muggle world. Muggles themselves had always been fascinated with men from space and heroes wearing futuristic armor to save them. This suit matched that description perfectly.

The suit was facing the three of them, and Harry saw it take in the sight of the three of them.

Harry stared dumbfounded at the suit in return, but his attention was quickly diverted to the massive dragon that had recovered behind it. The dragon saw the suit standing in front of it as well, and Harry barely had time to yell out a warning before the dragon grabbed the suit in its jaws and swallowed it whole.

Hermione screamed from behind him, and the dragon turned to them again, seemingly not satisfied from its snack from earlier.

Harry scrambled backward as the dragon lumbered towards them, but he abruptly stopped as the dragon stumbled and began making hacking noises deep in its throat. A muffled boom came from inside the dragon, and the beast began making many grotesque noises with its mouth as it struggled to breathe.

"Is it…is it choking?" Ron asked in disbelief.

His question was answered as another boom sounded from within the dragon's throat, and this time, the dragon retched hard and spat out the suit of armor it had swallowed a few seconds ago.

The suit stood up, its armor now slick with the dragon's blood and digestive juices.

"Bloody hell!" Ron said behind harry, who was also in disbelief at what he was seeing.

Harry noticed that the suit had no sword or shield, but it was now carrying what appeared to be an item made of wood with two metal cylinders protruding out the end. With a start, Harry realized that it was a shotgun. It had been at least a decade since he had seen one. Uncle Vernon had attempted to threaten Hagrid with it, but Hagrid had easily broken the weapon. But in the suit's hands, the weapon appeared quite a bit more formidable.

As if to emphasize the point, the dragon roared in pain and blood dripped from its mouth. Its own blood. It growled at the suit, baring its teeth and preparing to attack again. In response, the suit opened the shotgun and placed two more cartridges into the chamber. Then in one smooth motion, the suit brought the weapon up and fired the weapon at the dragon. This time, the weapon only seemed to agitate the dragon even more, as the pellets from the blast bounced harmlessly off of the dragon's metallic scales.

The dragon then breathed fire at the suit, which jumped into a roll just in time to avoid the searing hot flames. As the suit stood up again, Harry was startled to see that it was now holding what Harry could only guess was another firearm. It was larger than the shotgun, and it glowed and whirred mysteriously.

Harry was suddenly grabbed by his shoulder. He looked and saw Ron pulling him to the tree line.

"Let's go! While its distracted!"

Harry glanced back to the suit just in time to see it fire its new weapon. A blue beam shot forth from it and struck the dragon on the side of its face. The dragon's head snapped to the side from the force, and when Harry looked closely, he could see that the dragon now had a large metal rod stuck between its scales.

"C'mon Harry!" Hermione yelled.

Harry turned and ran with the others as he heard the suit's weapon go off again. Harry heard the dragon scream in agony as they reached the nearest trees.

"Wait!" Harry yelled, stopping in his tracks.

"Wait?! For that monster to eat us?!" Ron yelled whirling around to Harry.

"We have to help! We can't let that dragon escape!"

"I'd say that suit is doing just fine on its own!" Ron said back. As if on cue, the suit came crashing through the trees just to their left, breaking branches and trunks alike as it sailed into the ground. Ron shook his head in defeat.

"If we die here, I'm gonna kill you, Harry!" Ron said before drawing his wand.

The three of them turned and ran over to where the suit was picking itself up from the ground. A plan was already forming in Harry's mind, but it wouldn't work if the suit was unaware of it. Most animated objects couldn't communicate, but Harry had to try and convey his plan.

"Listen!" Harry said throwing his arms up. "Its skin is too difficult to penetrate on the outside. Let us try to stun it, then you can fire into its soft points!"

Harry was relieved when the suit nodded back to Harry before pulling out yet another weapon. This one was big as well, but Harry sensed it was fundamentally different from the weapon it had used just moments before. It then ran back to the clearing, Harry, Ron and Hermione following close behind.

The suit burst through the clearing and began firing its new weapon, which appeared to shoot fireworks, or what the deadly equivalent of fireworks were. Rockets. That's right. It fired rockets. And each time the rocket made contact with the dragon, it exploded violently, staggering the beast and charring its scales. This angered the dragon even more, and the beast turned away from Harry, Ron, and Hermione to swipe at the suit.

"Harry!" Hermione said. "We don't have nearly enough wand power to stun it, even for a moment!"

"I know, but we have to try something!" Harry said. The dragon swiped at the suit again, and the metal man jumped out of the way just in time. Harry's mind raced to come up with a solution.

"Ok! On three, use a binding spell on the legs!" Harry shouted over the exploding rockets and dragon's roars. The three of them raised their wands to the dragon's hind legs.

"1…2…3!"

"Incarcerous!" The three of them shouted in unison.

Ropes shot from each of their wands, and quickly found their mark around the dragon's hind legs before the beast could move again. The ropes wound themselves around the dragon's legs and began winding tighter and tighter, and the dragon bellowed before losing its balance and falling to the ground. Its head crashed into the dirt as it fell forward, and the suit wasted no time. The shotgun was in its hands again, and the suit jumped up on to the dragon's head, grabbing on of the massive horns that protruded from the dragon's head to steady itself as the dragon weakly tried to shake it off.

With its shotgun hand, the suit cocked its arm back, then jammed the business end of the shotgun straight into one of the dragon's massive eyes, puncturing through the eyeball and into the socket. The dragon bellowed in agony and shook its head wildly, blood spurting forth and dripping from the wound. The suit then fired the shotgun, end still crammed into the socket. The dragon abruptly stopped roaring and twitched once before falling completely still. Dead.

With a heave, the suit wrenched the shotgun from the dead beast's eye. Harry caught a good look at the hole and saw that in addition to the penetration into the socket, the blast from the shotgun had pierced into the skull and had likely liquified the beast's brain.

Hermione gagged for a moment and stepped to the side as she and Ron saw the damage that had been done. The suit itself was standing next to the dragon's dead head, seemingly examining the charred and mangled corpse.

The trio walked up to the suit.

"Blimey," Ron said as he eyed the shotgun in the suit's hands. "We could really use some of those at the ministry."

"Ron!" Hermione wheezed, still trying to control her stomach. "These weapons can kill people! They're dangerous! Plus, you don't even know how to use one!"

Ron didn't seem to even be listening to her.

"Bloody hell, Hermione! Does every muggle have one of these? Do you think they'd let me have one?"

"Ron!"

"Hey guys," Harry interrupted forcefully. "Save it."

He turned back to the suit. Up close, the metal armor was actually quite intimidating, and Harry felt an almost overwhelming determination emanating from the figure in front of them.

"Well, I don't know who you are, or really what you are, but…thank you. For helping us out I mean." Harry turned back to the cabin, which was still burning. "We wouldn't have been able to fight that dragon on our own, but I think we can take it from here."

The suit examined the three wizards before it, then to the dragon's carcass at its feet. It then turned back and gave a thumbs up to Harry, Ron, and Hermione before a blue light flashed and a loud bang rang out. Then it was gone.

"This is going to be a lot of paperwork isn't it?" Ron asked, his shoulders slumping as he looked from the dragon to the burning cabin.

"Don't worry, Ron," Harry said with a slight smirk. "We will say that you killed the dragon with a lucky shot to the eye. You'll be a hero. A dragon-slayer."

Ron seemed to perk up as Harry spoke. His smile growing more and more.

Hermione frowned at Harry and frowned before shaking her head and turning to check her camera.

Harry tried to fight back a laugh as he saw that the machine was completely charred and destroyed on the ground nearby.

Chapter 7: Jennifer's Body

Notes:

A/N: Booyah! Guess who's back? It's me, coming to you with a fresh new chapter in the Doom Slayer's story of carnage. This time, the Slayer finds himself in "Jennifer's Body", and he is gonna have to fight his way out. Don't forget to leave a comment depicting your love/hatred for the story! And once again, I own none of this

Anita "Needy" Lesnicki figured it would have been a nice night for a walk if she still gave a shit about things like that, but times change. And for Needy, they had changed quite a bit. She pulled her hood back off her head as she walked through the thrilling streets of Madison, Minnesota: The "lutefisk capital of the USA". Needy scrunched her nose at the thought. Lutefisk was disgusting, but up until a few weeks ago, she wouldn't have told anyone that. Back then, she wouldn't've wanted to be a downer that only talked about shit she didn't like. Now she could care less. She heard sirens in the distance, and she assumed that the police had been called only moments after she had left the hotel where the new "heart throb" band, Low Shoulder had been staying after their sold-out concert was a big success.

The bandmates had been probably been looking forward to a night of drugs, alcohol and women, but Needy had other plans for them. Now, Low Shoulder was no more. In fact, their shoulders were probably everywhere in that hotel room. Some high, some low, some over here, some over there, yadda yadda yadda...

Needy allowed herself to smirk just a little at the thought. Those chodes had ruined her life, and unluckily for them, Needy had been more than enthusiastic to return the favor.

Needy suddenly came to a halt as the store she was passing caught her eye. Turning her head, Needy looked through the glass to see rows of satanic t-shirts and black leather lining the shelves beyond.

To Needy, this seemed like the kind of store that Colin Gray and his makeup-happy friends would've enjoyed. That is, if he was still alive…

Needy felt a slight ache in her chest as she thought of Colin.

'Poor bastard, he didn't deserve to go out like that,' Needy thought.

Thinking of Colin led to Needy thinking about everyone else that she had lost over the past few months: Jonas Kozelle, Ahmet from India, and…

…and Chip.

Needy felt her eyes water as she thought of her late boyfriend. How her succubus-bitch of a friend had eaten him before her very eyes. How he had whispered his last words to her in such a pained voice.

Needy sniffed and wiped her eyes. She looked back up through the store window and focused in on what had caught her attention in the first place. In the back of the store, there was a particular article of clothing that Needy found very familiar.

It was an Evil Dead t-shirt.

Not just any Evil Dead t-shirt either. It was the same kind of shirt that Needy had once owned. The same shirt that Jennifer had worn the night she had…opened up to Needy.

That had always been Needy's favorite shirt, and not just because she had always been a fan of Bruce Campbell. That was her favorite shirt because Chip had gotten it for her for her 16th birthday, and that had been the first night that he had told her his feelings for her. He had been so cute and so shy that Needy couldn't help but fall for him. That shirt held a lot of memories, some very happy, others not so much. Either way, Needy knew she wanted it.

Needy stepped through the door and into the shop. A bell rang softly above her head as she entered the darkened room.

Dildos and other 18+ items sat on the shelves as she walked to the clothing section. Behind the counter sat a 20-something looking girl with dark purple hair and several piercings.

"Let me know if you need any help," the girl said half-heartedly. Needy paid her no attention as she strode toward the object of her desires.

Standing in front of the shirt, Needy felt her heart ache again as the familiar feelings arose again. This time, she composed herself and found one that was her size. Needy finally found one and looked at the design of a girl reaching for help as a disfigured hand choked her by the throat. Taking the shirt in her hands, Needy walked back up to the front of the store. The girl at the counter watched her and rattled off the price from memory as Needy set the shirt on the counter.

The shirt was definitely overpriced, but Needy wasn't worried about that. She had over 5,000 dollars in her pocket, so the price wasn't all that steep given the circumstances. Needy silently thanked Low Shoulder for their most generous donation to her private fund. She'd have to remember to have a drink in their name later.

As Needy peeled a crisp hundred out of her wad, a bright flash of light stabbed the darkness of the shop from the streets. A loud bang rang out at the same time, and Needy's head snapped to the source of the commotion.

Out in the middle of the street, the light faded, and in its place stood a bulky shadow of a figure. The girl at the counter squinted to try and make out the details, but Needy had no trouble seeing the silhouette's subtler features. Being bitten by a demon certainly had its perks. However, despite Needy's super-human vision, she had not been blessed with superhuman cognition. So even though she saw the figure very clearly, she had no idea what the fuck to make of it. The figure outside was humanoid, but it was completely encased on some sort of Stark-trek, space-battle suit. The armor was thick and sturdy looking, and the figure wore a helmet that Needy found even more intimidating.

The figure then turned its head and stared at Needy through the window, and Needy suddenly felt very nervous that something bad was about to happen. Her gut feeling was proven correct as the figure ran forward and crashed through the store window without warning.

"What the fu-!"

Needy's last syllable caught in her throat as the figure grabbed her by the neck with one arm. Needy gasped for breath, surprised by the figure's strength. If she had been a normal girl, this might have been a problem. But unfortunately for Tin Toy here, Needy was not a normal girl, and not only that, but she was now extremely pissed off.

With a grunt, Needy picked up both her feet and picked the figure square in the chest. The figure let go of her neck, but Needy felt a sense of dread as she felt just how solid the figure was.

She had kicked with the full force of her newfound demon powers, but instead of sending the figure flying back out of the store window, the figure only staggered back a half-step. Whatever this thing was, it was strong. And if Needy didn't put an end to this, fast, she was toast.

With that, Needy screamed in rage and charged the figure, determined to rip its head off.

Her plans were literally shot down as the figure produced a shotgun seemingly from its ass and fired a round of buck shot directly into her stomach, causing Needy to stop in her tracks and inhale sharply. Her mind took a moment to process it, but Needy finally realized that this asshole had just pumped a massive load into her stomach. She would have appreciated the innuendo if it weren't for the literal gaping hole in her stomach right now, so she retched instead.

Needy stumbled a bit before the figure cocked the shotgun and fired again. This time, Needy was nearly torn in half by the blast, and she croaked weakly before falling to her knees. Her blood was now all over the shop; it seemed to be everywhere except in her body at the moment, which was where she desperately needed it to be.

Her wish went ungranted, and Needy weakly looked up through half-lidded eyes as the figure stepped toward her, pumping the shotgun yet again.

Needy tried to move as the figure rested the end of the shotgun between her eyes, but her body refused to obey her. Realizing the futility of the situation, Needy tried to formulate a prayer in her head, but her mind was fuzzy from the lack of blood, and she was having no luck.

The figure stared down at her, its face unreadable behind the visor, and its shotgun pointed point-blank between Needy's eyes. The figure paused for a moment, then it moved its head to look past Needy to something directly behind her. Had she not been in so much pain at the moment, Needy would've felt confused.

She finally did when the figure unexpectedly put the shotgun away, still looking at something behind Needy that she couldn't see. The figure then stepped around Needy, seemingly forgetting all about her.

Needy tried to sigh in relief, but her lungs were both in shreds, so she let her head slowly droop and watch as her body slowly began to rebuild itself. Slowly but surely, the destroyed tissue in her chest and abdomen began to knit back together, almost like a video in reverse.

Out of all the powers that Needy had received, this by far was her favorite, and Needy was finally able to let out a sigh of relief as her lungs reformed again.

When she had finally recovered enough, Needy turned her head behind her to see what was so important that the figure had not blown her head off.

To her surprise and confusion, the metal suit of armor was looking at t-shirts, specifically, Evil Dead t-shirts. Along with the one that Needy had picked out, there had been a few other shirts along the walls that also alluded to the franchise. The armored figure seemed particularly interested in one depicting Ash Williams holding his signature chainsaw mid-sweep as though he was currently slashing through a Deadite. If Needy didn't know any better, she would have thought this robot-thingy knew Ash personally. Needy impulsively spoke out.

"You a fan of Ash too, huh? I never would've guessed by the violent attitude and the shotgun."

The figure looked over its shoulder back as her, and Needy internally slapped herself for drawing its attention again. She was still pissed off at it, to be sure, but she was quickly learning that against this thing, there was nothing she could do about it. The figure then spied the shirt that she still held in her hand and walked back over to her. Needy followed it with her eyes as it came back to her front.

Wordlessly, the figure extended an armored gauntlet down to Needy, and she hesitantly took it as the figure helped her to her feet. Her last wounds were closing up, and Needy suddenly remembered that her clothes did not regenerate with her.

The two shotgun blasts had decimated her shirt and sports bra, so she was now completely exposing her front to the futuristic soldier. She quickly covered herself before turning around

and putting on her new Evil Dead shirt. The figure, however, seemed indifferent to Needy's peep show, as it turned and thudded over to the literary section of the store.

Needy curiously watched it for a moment before turning back to see the goth girl still standing at the counter.

"Fuckin' metal as fuck," Needy heard the girl say quietly. Needy frowned at her before walking over to the counter and placing the hundred on top of it.

"Keep the change," Needy said, but the girl's eyes were entirely focused on the suit, which was still rifling through tomes on demonic lore and how-to sex books.

"I never thought I'd see him with my own eyes. I didn't even think he was real until two seconds ago," the girl said in a haze.

"What? You know this guy?" Needy asked gesturing with her thumb to the walking tank.

"He's the one thing all demons fear," the girl said, adamantly continuing to stare at the stranger. "He is the immortal terror that haunts only the doomed."

"Points for being cryptic, but absolute dick at being helpful," Needy said annoyedly. "Can you at least give me a name?"

The figure suddenly slammed a book down on the counter, cracking the wood and causing to the whole store to shake. Needy hadn't heard him walking back over, and she jumped reflexively and snapped her eyes to the book. The front cover depicted a figure standing with a shotgun on a pile of demonic bodies. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the figure on the cover and the figure standing next to her were one in the same. The title read in bold letters: The Doom Slayer: Destructor of the Undead.

Needy looked from the book to the so called "Doom Slayer".

"This is you then?"

The Doom Slayer nodded once.

"Great. I think I get the gist of it. You just kill evil shit, right?"

The Slayer nodded again. Needy was starting to see why he was a fan of the Evil Dead franchise.

"And you thought I was a demon, which I'm not, but thanks for double checking," Needy said sarcastically, rubbing her stomach. "I didn't have enough iron in my diet anyway."

The Slayer stared back at her.

Needy sighed. Despite her abrasiveness to the Doom Slayer on the outside, she really wished that he have been there about a month ago. He could have prevented a lot of deaths. Whatever, not much could be done about it now.

She opened her mouth to speak again when a feminine voice piped up from the street.

"Foooound you!"

Needy turned and saw a group of women gathered in front of the store. Women of the night, from the looks of it. Each woman was dressed in extremely provocative clothing, and there were about six of them all together in a gaggle. Needy smirked at the sight.

"Where's your pimp? Does he usually let you stay out this late?" Needy jeered at them.

"Ha. Ha. Ha," the woman in front said, rolling her eyes at Needy. "As though we haven't heard that one before."

Needy suspected that the woman who spoke was the leader, and she decided to focus in on her.

"You probably have, but you don't seem like the type to remember much except the last dick in your ass," Needy retorted without missing a beat.

"Hey, screw you, bitch! You don't talk to Cathy like that," another woman yelled at Needy, who guessed that she was trying to threaten her.

"Relax, Jade," the leader said, holding her hand out haltingly to the other woman.

"Yeah that's right, shut your mouth." Needy sneered. "While you're at it, might wanna shut your legs too. I think you'll find it easier to walk after that."

The one called Jade opened her mouth to say something back, but the lead woman cut her off.

"Anyway, let's get to the point. We know what you are girlie. In fact, we are the exact same thing! Amazing how lazy people are when checking virginity, isn't it?"

"With you guys? I'm honestly surprised anyone was dumb enough to make that mistake."

That last comment made the leader visibly angry, and Needy took a huge amount of satisfaction from that.

"Look! We came to offer you the deal of a lifetime," the leader snapped. "Join up with us! And you'll get all the boys you want. We've got our own limitless supply."

Needy chuckled. The leader titled her head in confusion at her laugh.

"Look, what was your name again? Fatty?"

"Cathy," the leader said through gritted teeth.

"Right. Anyway Cathy, I'm not a succubus. I'm 100% human, I just got lucky enough to get bitten by one, which is where my super bad-ass powers came from."

A few of the girls in the group shifted and murmured at the revelation. Cathy silenced them with a look then stepped forward. A malicious grin appeared on her face.

"Well then, if you aren't one of us, then you're against us. And that means it's feeding time, girls!"

The rest of the succubi cheered and clapped in enthusiasm, before fanning out in front of the store.

Cathy then turned her head, seemingly noticing the Doom Slayer standing behind Needy for the first time.

"You guys start with tall, green, and metal..."

Cathy's face suddenly tore open as the Doom Slayer blew a load into her skull. This time, Needy chuckled at the innuendo. That shit was funny. Her humor was short lived however, as Cathy's face started reknitting itself much faster than Needy had ever seen before. Within seconds, Cathy's face reappeared, a scowl painted across her features.

"Do damage girls."

The other five succubi then charged into the store, but before Needy could reach out to intercept one, Cathy tackled her with a running start. The supernatural force of Cathy's tackle lifted both of them into the air, and Needy gasped as her breath was forced out of her lungs. She grunted in pain as both Cathy and she went sailing out of the back wall of the store.

Needy pushed away from Cathy and landed hard in the dirt. She struggled to her feet and looked ahead to see Cathy already running towards her, arm cocked back. Needy ducked under Cathy's punch and stumbled backward behind her. There was sounds of gunfire coming from the store behind her, but Needy didn't dare look back.

This was bad, Not only was Cathy insanely fast, but strong too. A lot stronger than Needy was. She barely had time to duck out of the way as Cathy swung for her again. This time, Needy had not been quick enough, and Cathy's blow caught her shoulder, sending her flying. Needy twisted midair and landed on her feet but stumbled as pain shot through her shoulder. It had been dislocated, and Needy was sure that some of her bones had been fractured as well.

With an enraged yell, Needy ran forward and drop kicked the older succubus before she could react. Cathy grunted in surprise as she flew backward and crashed into a tree.

Needy ran over to the tree, stretching her shoulder as it repaired itself. Cathy was picking herself off the ground, and Needy took advantage of Cathy's bent-over position and brought her knee up into Cathy's jaw. Needy heard a satisfying crunch, and Cathy's head snapped backward as she smashed against the tree again.

Needy tried to follow up with a punch, but the succubus's hand suddenly shot up and grabbed her wrist before it made contact, causing Needy to hesitate in surprise for a moment, which was a big mistake. Cathy stood up with a smirk on her face and punched Needy square in the chest.

Needy retched as her body jolted under the force of the blow, but that was nothing compared to her arm. Cathy had kept her grip after the punch, effectively anchoring Needy in place while the force of the punch tried to carry her backward. Needy screamed as the strain ripped her joints to shreds.

Needy fell onto her back, still crying out at the searing pain in her arm. Cathy stood over her for a moment, then stomped on Needy's other arm, shattering the bones underneath the skin. Needy screamed again.

Both of her arms were now useless, the only way she could have stood up was by using her legs, but at that moment, Cathy straddled her and sat on her stomach. She was trapped.

"You know," Cathy said as she ran her fingers through Needy's hair. "You put up much more of a fight than any others. That's pretty sexy."

Needy tried to bite at Cathy's hand, and the succubus slapped her. Hard.

Needy's head snapped to the side and her vision blurred for a moment.

Cathy's face slowly came back into focus, and Needy realized she was still talking.

"The older you get, the stronger you become. You were certainly unique, but I could tell that you were still young. Therefore, you had no chance. You'd need something a little bit stronger to do that."

Needy suddenly became keenly aware of how silent it had become. A smile crept onto her face. Cathy frowned at the unexpected emotion.

"What's so funny?"

Then, Cathy's head exploded, spraying Needy with blood and brain matter. Needy squeezed her eyes shut and closed her mouth just in time. When she opened them, she gazed at Cathy's headless form for a moment before a familiar armored boot kicked it off of her.

Needy turned her head as the Doom Slayer came into her vision. He spared a quick glance at her, then turned toward Cathy's body, which was already done growing her head back. Cathy stumbled to her feet, locking eyes with the Doom Slayer, who stomped toward her.

"You fu—"

She was cut off as the Doom Slayer punched his hand into her chest. He kept it there for a moment, then wrenched backward with a wet ripping noise.

Cathy twitched and swayed on her feet for a moment, and Needy saw that the Doom Slayer was holding her heart in his right hand. Cathy then fell backward into the dirt and moved no more.

Needy struggled to sit up as the Doom Slayer walked over to her. Her arms were healing but still mangled, so she sat there awkwardly as he looked down at her.

"A little help?" she finally asked.

The Doom Slayer wordlessly grabbed her by her shirt and hauled her to her feet. She was about to get angry with him for stretching the new fabric, but she realized that it was moot compared to the rips and blood that now soaked her new attire.

"Thanks," she said instead, before turning and walking back into the store. The Doom Slayer followed.

Inside, it was a blood bath. The five other succubi had been twisted and mangled to shreds, and their blood and guts painted every corner of the store. As Needy surveyed the scene, the girl behind the counter slowly peaked up from her hiding spot. Needy supposed she should apologize for the dark and dismal appearance of the shop, but all things considered, the mood it was trying to convey really hadn't changed all that much.

"You got any more Evil Dead shirts?" Needy asked tiredly.

The girl held her hands up, indicating that she had no idea.

"Thanks," Needy said sarcastically before checking the wall where the shirts had been. Miraculously, one shirt had survived with minimal blood on it. 'Minimal' was a bit of a loose term there, but Needy really didn't care at that point. She figured it made it look more authentic anyway.

Needy's left arm had healed enough that she could use it, so she weakly reached out and took the shirt from the rack, before turning back to the Slayer.

"So, uh, thanks I guess. What now, though?"

The Doom Slayer looked at her for a moment, then lifted his hand and gave her a thumbs up. A bright flash of light lit up the room and a loud bang was heard. Needy blinked as the light faded. And when she looked again, the Slayer was gone.

"Uh, does he do that a lot?" Needy asked the girl at the counter.

The girl shrugged again.

Needy shook her head.

"Whatever," she said before walking back out through the hole in the wall.

Chapter 8: Jeepers Creepers

Notes:

A/N: Happy Halloween Everyone! I tried so hard to think of which story to add for the Halloween edition, and I decided to throw our anti-hero into "Jeepers Creepers"! It's not the most iconic of Halloween movies, but I thought this one was a good choice. I thought really hard about doing a traditional slasher film like Friday the 13th or Nightmare on Elm Street, but I couldn't help but feel like foes like Freddy and Jason would be horribly outmatched against the Doom Slayer. But since the demand is pretty high, I might try to fit it in. We will see. But for now, enjoy! Remember that I own nothing!

Jack Taggart dozed lightly in his chair, his homemade harpoon lain comfortably across his lap. Jack had never been the type of man to feel a sense of security with a weapon in his hand, at least, not until about 23 years ago. But he was a different man now. Older, wiser, and more careful, but also scarred, broken, and angry. The cawing of a crow roused him from his light nap, and Jack looked back up at the 'Bat Out of Hell' that hung from the wall of his barn. The creature always creeped Jack out a bit each time he looked at it, and this time was no different. Taking another look, Jack noticed how withered it had become. It was nothing but skin and bones now, having eaten barely anything at all during its last rampage, and Jack knew that if and when this thing awoke, it would be extremely hungry. And if it was hungry, that meant people would die. Jack knew that more than anyone.

Jack shifted in his seat and gazed out the barn door at the setting sun. Looking at his watch, Jack saw that it was now roughly five minutes until sundown, on the first day of Spring. That meant that tonight was the night. Jack pictured in his mind what it must have looked like exactly 23 years ago when the monster had last awoken. It made his blood boil at the thought, and he gripped the harpoon even tighter. This bastard had stolen his son, the thought of that nearly tore Jack apart. He was going to make sure that this thing never killed again, no matter what the cost.

Jack turned again and watched the Sun dip behind the horizon. As he looked, he saw Jackie walk out of the house. Jackie was carrying a large Remington in his hands and a small sidearm in his belt. Jack smirked at his son's choice of weaponry. The Creeper would barely be bothered by anything the shotgun could dish out. And forget about the pistol.

This harpoon was the only thing that could bring this thing down, but Jack decided to let Jackie have his façade of safety. The last thing he needed was to get weak knees when the time came.

"Should be any minute now," Jack said, his voice echoing around the barn walls as Jackie approached.

Jackie nodded silently and went to stand on the other side of the harpoon from his father.

Jack slowly stood up from his chair. His joints growled at the movement, and Jack grumbled inwardly about the effects of growing old. He then made is way around the chair and took up position behind the harpoon gun, placing the second harpoon up against the barrel for a quick reload if he needed it. Jackie watched as his father fiddled a bit with the machine before resting his hands on the two handles located on the back of the gun. The hinge squeaked as Jack moved to aim the weapon directly at the monster. The gun was heavier than he last remembered, but he tried not to show that to his son. Jackie nodded to him once, and then held his shotgun at the ready. The sky began to grow dark outside of the barn.

They waited for five minutes, then ten, then thirty.

The sky was now completely dark.

Jackie turned his head to his father after forty-five minutes had ticked by.

"Did we get the day wro…?"

Jack abruptly shushed his son, not taking his eyes of the Creeper, which still had not moved in inch.

Jack listened in the silence for a moment before he heard the noise.

It was faint, but he knew for sure it was there.

Jackie turned his head and went silent as he heard the noise as well.

It was a wet and fleshy noise. It reminded Jack of the sound children made when they ate their food too loudly, but unfortunately, that was not the source of the sound they were hearing.

"Dad…" Jackie motioned to the Creeper hanging on the barn wall. Jack turned to look.

In a second, Jack knew where the sound was coming from.

The Creeper was rebuilding itself. All of the limbs that Jack had been previously severed and reattached with wire were reknitting at the flesh. Jack watched as the parts became whole again, and the connecting wire fell to the ground as the newly healed limbs expelled it from the body.

Jack slowly angled the harpoon until it was level with the Creeper and waited as the creature reknit its body.

"What are you waiting for?" Jackie frantically whispered, already afraid that the creature would hear. "Do it!"

"No," Jack replied. "Not until it opens its eyes."

Jackie shook his head frantically, but he remained silent and watched the Creeper heal.

Jack stole a glance behind the creature to see that its wings had reattached as well. The Creeper was once again in one piece. Jack then shifted his gaze to the Creeper's hood that covered its face. The hood was slowly peeling backwards toward the monster's neck. And Jack felt a pang of anger and fear as he saw its face for the first time in 23 years.

The Creeper was as ugly as he remembered. It's darkened face and sharp teeth were accentuated by its grotesque lower mandibles that hugged closely to its face. The noise abruptly stopped, and a long moment of complete silence fell throughout the barn. Even the farm itself seemed to be holding its breath.

The Creeper opened its eyes. Jack's gaze never wavered as the creature's optic orbs moved wildly around the barn, searching for a clue as to its surroundings. Then its gaze came to a halt when it locked with Jack's.

The two shared a brief moment of eye contact, and Jack knew he saw recognition in the monster's eyes before he smirked and squeezed the trigger on the harpoon.

The large gun creaked loudly for a few moments, then gave a loud hiss and fell silent.

Jack stared in disbelief for a few moments at the weapon, then looked back up at the Creeper, who was still watching him.

The beast's grotesque mouth slowly curved upward into a smile, and Jack's eyes widened in the realization of his imminent doom. The Creeper then groaned and wrenched its arms free from its restraints.

"Dad…" Jackie said, his voice trembling.

Jack furiously wrenched hard on the harpoon launcher in an attempt to reset it. The Creeper growled again and wrenched its feet from the wall as well. Causing it to fall to the floor of the barn.

Jackie raised the shotgun and took a large step back, Jack looked up and continued to work the launcher, pleading with the machine to bend to his will.

Sparing a glance upward, Jack saw that the Creeper was slowly standing up. It wobbled on its two legs for a moment, then looked back up at Jack and Jackie, murder in its eyes.

"Jackie!" Jack yelled to his son, "It's weak! Shoot it!"

The Creeper suddenly lunged forward at tremendous speed and tackled Jackie to the ground, sending the shot gun flying from his hands. The man and beast slid across the ground before skidding to a stop. The Creeper righted itself on top of Jackie and reached down with both hands to choke him.

"NO!" Jack cried out, running toward the struggling pair, spare harpoon in hand.

He drew his arms back to stab at the Creeper, but the monster roared and swatted Jack with one of its arms.

It was like getting hit by a freight train, and Jack flew backward from the force of the Creeper's blow. He landed hard on his back, and the impact forced the air from his aged lungs. The harpoon flew from his hands and clattered away into the shadows.

Jack gasped and attempted to breathe, shallowly sucking in air in rapid bursts. The pain burned in his chest, but Jack forced himself up to a sitting position.

The Creeper now had both of its hands back on Jackie, and to Jack's horror, Jackie's struggles were growing weaker, and his eyes began fluttering as the Creeper denied him precious oxygen.

Jack struggled to move his body to protect his son, to help, to do anything. He couldn't lose him too. Not to this monster. Jack cried out and crawled to his only remaining family, but he knew he was too late. He wouldn't get there in time, and even if he did, what then? He couldn't fight this thing without that harpoon. His son was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Jack couldn't stop it as despair washed over him, weighing him down more than any chains ever could. He squeezed his eyes shut as his heart broke.

'I'm sorry, Jackie. I'm so sorry…'

BOOM.

Jack's eyes snapped open at the sudden noise. He caught sight of a bright blue light fading in front of him. At first, he could only make out a bulky silhouette as his eyes adjusted. As he blinked, details came into view. The figure towering over Jack was humanoid, but only in its shape. It was covered in a heavy green suit which only added to its intimidating physique, and the armor was completed with a helmet covering its facial features.

Jack didn't know what to make of the figure in front of him. He didn't even know if this new stranger could be counted as friendl, but if it wasn't, then it was Jack's only hope. The visor looked down at Jack. It seemed to be examining him.

"Please…" Jack coughed out, raising a pointed finger to the Creeper, which had hardly noticed the arrival of the figure and had resumed strangling Jackie.

"Save him…Please."

The figure looked over its shoulder at Jackie and the Creeper. It seemed to hardly take a millisecond of contemplation before the figure grabbed the Creeper in both hands and threw it off of Jackie.

The Creeper sailed through the air and crashed against the barn wall before falling to the floor, but Jack hardly noticed as he felt eternal relief wash over him at the sight of Jackie gasping for air.

He was ok.

His son alright.

The armored figure spared a glance at Jackie before turning its attention to the Creeper, which had begun picking itself up.

Jack looked over just in time to see the stranger pull out a double-barreled shotgun and fire two blasts directly into the Creeper's stomach.

The monster roared and pain and flew backward into the wall again with a loud thud. Jack struggled to his feet as the stranger ejected the rounds and reloaded the shotgun.

The Creeper stumbled to its feet and glared with hate-filled eyes at the stranger and then at Jack. It seemed to be begrudgingly reaching a conclusion, and before Jack could blink, the Creeper unfurled its wings and crashed through the roof of the barn, flying away into the night.

Jack stared in disbelief that the massive hole in his barn, then looked back at the stranger, who was staring at the hole as well. Slowly, it lowered its shotgun.

Jack stared at him for a few moments more before turning frantically to Jackie, who had forced himself into a sitting position, clutching his throat and coughing.

"Jackie!" Jack said, grabbing both of his son's shoulders.

"I'm alright," Jackie gasped. "I'm ok."

"Thank God," Jack sighed. He then turned back to the figure, which had walked up to them and was looking down at the duo.

"Or I suppose, thank you."

The armored stranger nodded once before turning and walking towards the exit, shotgun still in hand.

"Wait!" Jack said, holding a hand out to the stranger, who paused and half-turned back toward them.

Jack didn't want to admit it, even though it was most likely obvious, but he hated the Creeper. He hated it more than he hated anything in this world. That demon had stolen one of his sons, and it had almost stolen another a minute ago. All that vengeance and hatred had boiled in his veins, and as a result, he felt an unquenchable bloodlust for the monster. He would be the one to kill it. Of that he was damn sure.

It was obvious that this stranger wanted to kill this thing too. But Jack wasn't about to let him (at least Jack assumed it was a him) go at this thing alone no matter how strong he seemed to be.

"You can't kill that thing with just a shotgun," Jack said. "It's far too strong."

The stranger said nothing, but that news didn't seem to bother him at all as he turned to walk out of the barn again.

"You don't have any way of chasing it!" Jack yelled out frantically. "You have no way of chasing it down. We have a truck, we can get there much faster than you can on foot!"

The figure stopped again. It stood still for a moment before turning back around and walking back to the two of them.

Jack stumbled to his feet as the stranger approached and held out his hand.

"We can bring this thing down. But we have to work together or else we will all die."

The figure obviously disagreed with Jack, but the promise of transportation was enough, and the figure transferred the shotgun to his left hand and shook Jack's outstretched one.

The metal gauntlet was cold in Jack's grip, but just through physical contact Jack could feel immense power and will underneath the armor. Jack felt a surge of determination course through his body at the feeling, and he allowed himself a smile. With this stranger on their side, they could kill it. Of that he had no doubt.

Jack let go of the stranger's hand and helped Jackie to his feet. Patting his son on the shoulder, Jack nodded to Jackie, who nodded back to indicate he was alright.

Jack turned back to the stranger, who was looking back at him, waiting for him to speak.

Jack pointed to the harpoon gun, which was still inert on the barrel.

"First thing's first, I have to figure out what is wrong with this thing."

The stranger turned and circled the harpoon, examining each part of it with what Jack supposed was a skilled eye.

"Why it didn't fire I have no idea, all of the mechanisms should still be in good working orde…"

The stranger reached up with one hand and grasped the harpoon sitting in the gun. The figure pulled hard, and there was a great screeching of metal as the figure wrenched the harpoon from its position within the gun.

Jack's eyes opened wide, and he immediately understood why the weapon hadn't fired as he gazed at the harpoon the stranger was holding in one hand.

The entire shaft of the harpoon was coated with rust, which covered the shaft in an abstraction of orange patches.

Jack inwardly kicked himself for overlooking such a simple mistake. Over the years, he had been so worried about the Creeper awakening that he had kept the weapon loaded at all time. The thought of the harpoon rusting to the gun had never crossed his mind.

"Oh," Jack said dumbly.

…

The Creeper stood next to the wreckage of a car on the side of the road. The couple that had been driving the car a few moments before had probably been enjoying their evening, but now their mangled bodies lay next to their car. Limbs and organs were missing, and the Creeper felt extremely lucky to have found such beautiful specimens this evening. Their body parts had been perfect, exemplary against so many other humans, and the Creeper had eagerly dug into such a fine meal. The Creeper looked up from its feast and spied more headlights in the distance. More morsels awaited.

The Creeper's vile lips curled into a smile, and it let out a demonic laugh before disappearing into the shadows.

…

Jack put the drill down and inspected his work. The harpoon gun was now securely fastened to the bed of the truck, just as it had been 23 years ago. At first, Jack was unsure about how they were going to get the gun out of the barn and onto the truck, but the stranger had done the job with no effort. Jack had been amazed at the feat. That gun had to have weighed at least six-hundred pounds, and the armored man had hefted it with no sweat. Whatever he was, he wasn't human.

The stranger hadn't spoken a word since arriving, and Jack looked up from his work to see him examining one of the Creeper's weapons.

Jack turned back and tightened the last bolt before standing up and jumping down. Jackie walked up to him.

"Dad, can we trust this…this…thing? What if it wants the same thing as the Creeper?"

"He's only here for the Creeper," Jack said looking at his son. "He wants that thing dead almost as much as I do."

Jackie still seemed distrustful of the stranger, but he took a deep breath and relaxed a little.

"Alright, I trust you dad."

Jack rested his hand on Jackie's shoulder for a moment, then walked over to where the stranger stood.

"Everything is ready. Time to go."

The stranger nodded once.

…

Another car's wreckage sat not half a mile away from the first one. The creeper sighed and licked its lips. More morsels had fallen victim to its hunger, and these ones had been even more bountiful than the last. The Creeper now felt its strength return. In fact, it now felt stronger than ever. These specimens had been some of the most nutritious the Creeper had ever consumed. The Creeper let out a low demonic chuckle at its fortuitous stroke of luck. As the Creeper reveled in its prosperity, it saw another pair of headlights appear in the distance. The Creepers face twisted into a vile grin once more. Time to keep the streak going.

…

Jackie twisted to look back from the driver's seat as the truck sped down the highway. Jack and the stranger were both in the cargo bed, Jack manning the harpoon, and the stranger holding his shotgun with one hand while the other held onto the top for balance. Jack knew they had to be close. They had already passed the wreckage of another car about a quarter of a mile back, and Jack was certain that it had been the Creeper's doing.

Jack spared a glance at the stranger, who was currently scanning the area as they drove. Whatever was under that armor, it wasn't human. It couldn't be. Every vibe that Jack got from this guy was turned up to an 11. Determination and Incorruptibility were radiating from him in waves. That made him extremely dangerous, and Jack thanked whatever God there was up there for making sure he was on their side.

"Dad!" Jackie called from the from the front. Jack looked ahead to see another wrecked car just off the road.

Jack saw it and nodded to Jackie to pull up alongside. Jackie maneuvered the truck off the road and onto the grassy area where the car had crashed.

Jack hopped out of the truck as it came to a stop. His stiff joints protested the sudden movement, but Jack shook it off and walked over to where the wreckage sat. Kneeling down, Jack examined the flat tire that appeared to be the cause of the accident. He squinted for a few moments before he saw what he was looking for.

Careful not to cut himself, Jack tugged a sharpened throwing star from the destroyed rubber. The weapon was made entirely from bone, and Jack recognized the markings on it. Turning back to the truck, Jack held the throwing star out to the stranger, who had gotten out of the truck and approached as well.

"We're definitely close."

The stranger looked at the throwing star for a moment, then turned and scanned the field right next to them.

"No bodies," Jack said, turning as he spoke. He noticed a trail of blood leading into the field, but the waist high grass covered up any other tracks he would hope to find.

"It's out there, and you can bet your ass it's gotten stronger," Jack said.

The figure said nothing, and Jack was about to say more when he heard a faint whistling in the air. Jack frowned as he tried to discern the source of the noise. The whistling began to grow louder, and Jack's eyes widened in realization and dread as he realized the source of the noise. He tried to move, but he was too late.

Jack cried out in pain as something tore into his shoulder. The force of the hit threw him backward into the truck, and Jack clutched at his shoulder and looked down at what had hit him.

"DAD!" Jackie yelled from inside the truck.

Jack's suspicions were proven correct as he saw a knife sticking out of his shoulder. It looked exactly like the one he had used to create his harpoon. And that meant only one thing…

Jack looked up as a guttural roar sounded throughout the night, and Jack looked up to see the Creeper swoop down and land in the field in front of him. Its eyes locked with his, and Jack knew that the Creeper harbored the exact same murderous intent that he did.

Suddenly, gunfire exploded in the night air, and both Jack's and the Creeper's attention was diverted as the stranger opened fire on the Creeper. Somehow, he was holding an automatic rifle instead of a shotgun, and the weapon kicked and flashed as a relentless stream of bullets hit their mark on the Creeper.

The Creeper appeared to be taking damage, but it seemed to ignore it completely as it charged the stranger, who kept firing at the monster. Jack watched, horrified as the Creeper wrapped up the stranger in its arms, unfurled its wings, and flew straight up into the sky.

Jack watched as the grew distant in the night sky, then turned his attention to the knife sticking out of his shoulder.

"Dad hold on!" Jackie called as he leapt out of the truck to aid his father.

Jack stumbled upright as Jackie came around. Jackie examined the wound for a moment, then grasped the knife tightly in his hand.

"It's not too deep. I'm gonna yank it out."

"Go," Jack said. He grit his teeth as Jackie pulled hard, and there was a sickening sucking noise as Jackie pulled the knife out.

Jack took a moment to catch his breath, then turned to Jackie.

"Get back in the truck, we have to move."

Jackie nodded and turned to get back in the vehicle, but both Taggarts froze as a loud thud came from behind them. Dirt and dust had flown up into the air, but it cleared quickly, and both of them saw the stranger stand up on its feet in the small crater he had formed. Something large and leathery was in his hands.

"Did he…just fall from the sky?" Jackie asked in disbelief.

Jack didn't answer, but he frowned as he tried to discern what the object in the stranger's hands was. His question was answered as the Creeper crashed to the ground about twenty feet away from the trio.

He was holding a wing. The Creeper's wing.

The Creeper stumbled to its feet and roared in pain and rage at the figure, who threw the wing to the ground, and turned to face the demon.

The Creeper yelled and made to charge the armored man again. Faster than Jack could blink, the figure had pulled out another weapon which Jack didn't recognize. The Creeper jumped into the air, claws and fangs prepared to sink into its prey, and the figure fired the weapon. A blue beam exploded forth and struck the Creeper square in the chest. The monster cried out as the force blew it back into the field.

"Holy shit!" Jackie yelled, obviously in awe of the weapon. Jack nodded in agreement, but words escaped him at the moment.

In the field, the Creeper struggled to its feet again, its weight still off balance due to missing a wing. The stranger began walking towards the Creeper and fired the beam weapon again. This time the beam shot straight through the Creeper's right arm, and the force sent it spinning as the arm exploded away from the body. The Creeper, now with only one wing and one arm, was quickly beginning to realize who was winning the battle.

The figure raised the weapon to fire again, but the Creeper pushed off the ground and jumped backward, barely avoiding the third shot as it exploded against the Earth. Jack watched as the Creeper suddenly produced another knife and hurled it with its functioning hand at the stranger.

"Look out!"

The stranger threw his hand up and caught the knife in his hand. Without hesitation, the figure squeezed, crushing the metal in his gauntleted hand. Jack stared in awe for a few moments before looking back over to the Creeper, which was running as fast as it could for the tree line. Jack snapped back into focus.

"Jackie! The truck!" He yelled, whipping around to climb into the back.

Jackie nodded and sprinted around to the driver's side. Jack took up position behind the harpoon as Jackie gunned the engine. The truck lurched and tore across the field, leaving the figure behind.

"Keep it in your sight!" Jack yelled. "We can't let it get to the tree line!"

Jackie responded by acceleration even more. Jack focused on the Creeper as well and felt a sense of invigoration as he realized they were gaining on it.

Something caught his eye on the right, and Jack nearly slapped himself when he saw the figure running alongside the truck.

Running. Alongside.

Jack froze for a moment at the sight of such a physical impossibility, but then his mouth twisted into a snarl, and he turned back to the Creeper, which was almost to the trees.

'You might just be the one to kill this thing,' Jack thought. 'But I'll be damned if I don't get a shot in!'

With that, Jack fired the harpoon. Jack watched as the metal rod flew from the launcher and towards the target, rope trailing behind. As if it were in slow motion, Jack watched the harpoon fly through the air and strike the Creeper right through the stomach. Time slowed to a crawl as the demon lurched backward from the shot, then Jack yelled out.

"Jackie! Brakes!"

Jack held on as Jackie slammed down hard on the brakes of the truck. Causing the vehicle to skid to a grinding halt. The rope from the harpoon caught, and Jack watched as the Creeper was stopped dead in its tracks like a dog on a leash.

The truck lurched again against the Creeper's momentum, but the 2-ton vehicle held against the wounded monster's struggles.

"Yeah!" Jack shouted, pumping his fist into the air. As he celebrated, he noticed that the stranger had kept running, and now was already to where the Creeper had fallen.

The Creeper looked up at him with malice in its eyes and roared. The stranger quickly muffled the monster by stomping down on its head with an armored boot. The Creeper twitched from the blow and attempted to get away, but the stranger quickly grabbed one of its remaining arm and ripped it clean from the Creeper's body. The Creeper cried out again as the stranger discarded the limb and flipped its body over. With the Creeper now on its front, the stranger stomped a boot hard onto its back, took the creature's other wing in both hands, and tore it off as well.

Jack watched in a suspended state of horror and satisfaction as the stranger proceeded to completely rip every limb from the Creeper's body. His eyes widened when the stranger finished with its head.

Bringing its boot down again, the figure stomped down hard onto the Creeper's throat, choking the monster. Then it grasped the Creeper by the sides of its face and heaved. A wet ripping noise was heard, and Jack nearly gagged as the Creeper's head slowly separated from its shoulders. With a final tear, the head came free. And the Creeper's struggles abruptly ceased. Casting the night into silence once more.

Jack stood in a stupor as the stranger walked back over to the truck. In one hand he had Jack's harpoon, and in the other he held the Creeper's severed head. Jack said nothing as the stranger tossed both items into the bed, the head rolling around before coming to rest by Jack's foot. Jack stared from the head back to the stranger, completely at a loss for words.

Finally, Jack swallowed and nodded down to the stranger, who looked back up at him.

"After all this time, I think we finally did it," Jack said. Jackie nodded from his position in the driver's seat.

"This demon has tormented me and mine for 23 years, and you have my thanks for ending our suffering."

The figure looked from one Taggart to the other, nodded once, and gave them both a thumbs up with his right hand.

A bright flash suddenly illuminated Jack's vision followed by a loud bang, and Jack squinted against the harsh light, but it faded as quickly as it had appeared, casting the night into darkness once again.

Jack looked at his son, then knelt down and examined the Creeper's head before picking it up by its hair. Jack smirked at a sudden thought.

It certainly wasn't as pretty as a deer head, but it would look just fine mounted above his fireplace.

Chapter 9: Oblivion

Notes:

A/N: HAHA! I'm back! In this chapter, protagonist goes toe-to-toe with the Daedric hordes of "Oblivion", and by Talos are they in for a beating! Remember that I own nothing!

Jauffre cleared his throat and turned the page on the book he was reading. It was a late evening at Weynon Priory, and the other residents had already turned in for the evening. Only Jauffre remained awake, but that was usually the case. He would often stay up later than the others to continue reading his books. He would turn in a few hours later.

Jauffre looked up from his book as he heard the front door open. There was a shuffling of feet at the entrance, then the door closed again with a creak. Heavy footfalls drew closer, and Jauffre wondered who could be out and about at such a late hour. His question was answered as the stranger ascended the stairs and came into view. Jauffre recognized him immediately as none other than Baurus, a fellow Blade. The both smiled widely.

"My old friend, it has been far too long," Jauffre said, marking his page in the book and standing up from his desk. He made his way around the table and greeted Baurus with a firm shake of his hand.

"Indeed, it has, Grandmaster," Baurus responded. Jauffre was glad to see Baurus smiling, as he had worried that the weight of the emperor's death would crush his spirit.

"Please! Have a seat. I'll pour us some wine," Jauffre said, gesturing for Baurus to have a seat at the table.

"I'm afraid I cannot, Jauffre," Baurus said. "I have important business to attend to, and I must be on my way."

Jauffre shook his head. That was the Baurus that he had always known. Always busying himself and never allowing a moment's rest. Jauffre would not let him make excuses this time.

"At this hour? I should certainly hope not. Stay tonight with us at the Priory, Baurus. That is an order from your Grandmaster."

Baurus looked like he wanted to argue some more, but the presence of a direct order from his superior quieted him. Baurus chuckled and shook his head.

"Thank you, Jauffre. You are too kind."

Jauffre smiled and moved to the shelf to grab a bottle of wine and two tankards as Baurus took a seat. Returning to the table, Jauffre filled the tankards and placed one in front of the younger Blade, who nodded in thanks and took a drink.

Jauffre nodded in satisfaction before taking a seat across from Baurus at the table.

"So, tell me, what brings you to Weynon Priory at such a late hour?" Jauffre asked.

"I have come to ensure that the Amulet of Kings has successfully reached you, and to follow up on some leads I have regarding the emperor's murder," Baurus said.

"The Amulet of Kings has indeed reached me," Jauffre said. "I am keeping it safe inside a secret location."

Jauffre gestured to the closet along the back wall, and Baurus glanced over before turning back and nodding.

"And what of the person who delivered it? Where have they gone?" Baurus asked.

Jauffre thought back to a few days ago when a strange Imperial had arrived and presented him with the Amulet and the tale of the Emperor's death. Jauffre had been initially skeptical of the Imperial's story, but since he had willingly handed over the Amulet, Jauffre had been inclined to trust him.

"The prisoner you mean? I have sent him to Kvatch to retrieve Martin and bring him here. He must be crowned as the new Emperor as soon as possible. I fear the worst if the Dragonfires stay dark for much longer."

Baurus lowered his eyes solemnly.

"It's all my fault," he whispered. "If only I had been more vigilant, I could've prevented this all from happening."

"That's enough, Baurus," Jauffre said sternly. "The blood of Uriel Septim is not on your hands. Never allow yourself to believe that."

Jauffre held a faint rumbling in the distance. A storm must be brewing.

"You're…you're right," Baurus said. "It's just difficult to have been there, to have been so close and yet so far. To wonder if you could've done something…said something…anything to change the outcome.

"Baurus," Jauffre said. "All is not lost. Martin will come to us, and we can make this right. I promise."

Baurus sighed deeply, then raised his head and nodded to Jauffre, a slight smile appearing once again on his face.

Another rumble came from outside.

Baurus looked out the window.

"Sounds like quite the storm brewing…What in the name of Talos is that?!"

Jauffre frowned and turned around to look out the window. What he saw chilled him to the bone.

The sky was turning red. No, it was worse than that. It was as though the heavens themselves were splitting open. The inky black shell of the night sky was cracking, and the red seeped through. It looked almost like something out of Jauffre's worst nightmares.

The red seeped into the very air itself, casting a hellish glow on everything in sight.

Jauffre was shaken from his stupor as the door to the Priory House opened again. This time, hasty footsteps climbed the stairs two at a time, and Eronor the Shepard burst into view. The dark elf had drawn his club, and he held it at the ready.

"Brother Jauffre! Come quick! It's…it's…by Azura I don't know what it is, but Daedra are pouring out of it!"

Jauffre spared a worried glance at Baurus before quickly getting up to retrieve his weapon. Rushing over to his personal chest, Jauffre quickly produced his key and shoved it into the lock. The chest yielded, and Jauffre reached inside and pulled out his favorite weapon: his Akaviri Dai-Katana. Jauffre took a moment to marvel at the beauty of the weapon before turning back to Baurus, who had already drawn his own Katana from his hip.

"Baurus, I thank you for helping to protect my home."

"I would have it no other way, Grandmaster," Baurus replied.

Jauffre nodded, and together the two of them followed Eronor out of the Priory house and into the night.

Jauffre supposed it really couldn't be called night anymore, as the reddened sky illuminated the landscape. It cast the feeling of sunset in Jauffre's mind, even though everything seemed to glow under the blood hue.

"This way! Quickly!" Eronor called before leading them out of the square and into the forest beyond. Jauffre was about to inquire as to the distance of this disturbance when he saw it with his own eyes.

"By the Nine…" Baurus whispered next to him as it came into view.

What Jauffre saw, he could not even begin to describe. Two stone spires had erupted from the Earth, each sprouting demonic-looking spikes as branches, and between them glowed a violent angry red energy that pulsed and hummed in the night air. The very structure itself seemed to be ablaze. The structure was at least twenty feet tall, and all around the structure, demonic creatures that Jauffre recognized as Daedra stood guard.

Jauffre recognized the creatures from his studies on Daedra, and instantly classified them. There were four Daedra in total, and of the four, two were Scamps, one was a Deadroth, and the fourth was none other than a Dremora, the humanoid demons that served their Daedric Lords faithfully and viciously.

The Dremora turned and saw Jauffre, Eronor, and Baurus as they approached. Jauffre had never seen a Dremora in the flesh before, and he could now confirm that it was far more frightening than reading about them from a book. Its face was a mixture of black and red, with small horns that sprouted from its forehead to match. The demon was large, larger than even the largest Nord Jauffre had seen, and it was adorned with a hellish set of glowing Daedric armor. Jauffre felt a jolt of ice shoot down his spine.

With a growl, the Dremora unsheathed a massive, two-handed, Daedric sword from its back.

"I will break you, churl!" The Dremora roared in its demonic and gravelly voice. The horned-demon's battle cry roused the rest of the Daedra, and they too sprang into action.

"Baurus! Take the Deadroth! Eronor…the scamps! I'll hold the Dremora!" Jauffre yelled before charging at the red-skinned demon.

The Dremora roared again and brought his sword down violently to cleave Jauffre in two, but Jauffre parried the blow with his katana and countered with a swift slash to the Dremora's unprotected flank. Jauffre's sword hit home, but the thick Deadric armor held against the blow. Without the armor, Jauffre was sure that blow would've killed the Dremora. But since the armor prevented his sword from slicing through, he was sure that the damage at maximum had only been a few broken ribs. The Dremora roared in pain and swung at Jauffre again.

This time, Jauffre couldn't properly dodge the attack, and there was a flash of pain as the sword sliced into his right leg.

"Argh!" Jauffre yelled as he stumbled. He fell to one knee, cradling his injured leg. Looking back, Jauffre saw that the Daedric sword had completely sliced through his robe, and that blood was already pooling from the wound. Jauffre momentarily ignored his pain and shifted his attention back to the Dremora in front of him.

"Your flesh is mine, mortal!" The Dremora shouted as it raised its sword again to strike.

In a flash, Jauffre pushed hard off his knee and thrust his sword straight through the Dremora's neck. The beast had neglected to wear a helm, and the sword easily plunged through its skin.

The Dremora cried out in pain and surprise and began choking on the metal and blood that now filled its throat.

With a heave, Jauffre wrenched his sword from the demon and stumbled to his feet as the Dremora fell to its knees. With a last gurgle, the horned Daedra fell onto its side and moved no more. Jauffre quickly summoned a healing spell and cast it onto himself.

Instant relief flooded into Jauffre's body as the blue Magicka washed over his body. He looked back at his leg again to see that was almost completely mended now.

With that taken care of, Jauffre whipped his head around to assess his allies.

To his left, Eronor was fending off the last of the two scamps, the first one lay motionless next to him in a pool of blood. With a yell, Eronor brought his club down hard onto the remaining scamp's head, and the goblin-like Daedra shrieked before falling over, dead.

Jauffre then turned again to see Baurus walking towards him. The Daedroth lay in a heap with several stab wounds behind him. Baurus himself was covered with several claw marks, and some looked rather deep.

"Allow me," Jauffre said before casting a healing spell on his old friend. The claw marks healed quickly, and Baurus let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Jauffre," he said with a smile. "Without you I would certainly be dead."

"I doubt it," Jauffre said back, then frowned as he stared at the massive wall of energy before them.

"What…What is this thing?" Eronor asked, his face a mask of shock and awe.

"I don't know," Jauffre said. "But its appearance resembles that of a massive doorway."

"A doorway to where?" Baurus asked.

Jauffre was about to reply when two more figures emerged from the massive structure. Jauffre's blood ran cold as he recognized them both as Dremora. The two demons surveyed the bodies then snarled at the trio.

"Prepare to die, mortal!" One of them roared. They both charged.

Jauffre readied his weapon.

"Baur…!"

A series of loud bangs drowned out Jauffre's voice, and his eyes opened wide as both Dremora suddenly staggered backward. It was as though they had both been punched by an invisible fist. The Dremora then began twitching and spasming wildly before them, though nothing appeared to be touching them in any regard.

As Jauffre tried to make sense of the scene, he saw small puffs of blood burst in rapid succession from their chests as the banging continued. The noise was like nothing that Jauffre had ever heard before, but he equated it to the sound of multiple hammers banging against a rock over and over again.

The sound abruptly stopped, and Jauffre watched as the Dremora both fell lifeless to the ground. The three of them stared in awe at the scene they had just witnessed, each of them at a complete loss for words.

The sound of heavy footsteps behind them roused Jauffre from his state of shock, and the three men turned around to see a figure approach them from the shadows. Jauffre squinted in an attempt to make out the details, but the more he saw, the more questions he had.

The figure that appeared was completely clad in some sort of armor. That fact alone was not surprising to Jauffre, but the armor that adorned this stranger was of some sort of material and make that Jauffre had never seen before.

In addition to the newcomer's unorthodox appearance, Jauffre noticed the strange weapon the figure carried in its hands. The weapon appeared to be made of metal, but the material was the only aspect that was familiar to Jauffre. Other than that, the weapon may as well have been from another planet.

The figure's appearance gave Jauffre no reason at all to trust it, but for some reason, Jauffre knew that it was here to help, and that it had been the one responsible for the bizarre deaths of the two Dremora before him.

"You there," Jauffre said. "Do you know what this is?" Jauffre gestured to the large glowing structure behind him.

The figure looked at the large wall of flame, then shook it head no.

"I think I might then," Jauffre said, speaking to Eronor and Baurus as he did so.

All eyes turned to Jauffre, well, Jauffre assumed that he stranger was looking at him. It was difficult to tell due to its helm.

"I believe it is a portal to the plane of Oblivion."

Silence settled among them. The only noise was the demonic humming that emanated from the portal behind them.

"Jauffre, are you sure?" Baurus asked. His voice level and controlled, but Jauffre always knew when Baurus was anixious. He could see it in his eyes.

"I fear it is so, Baurus," Jauffre said sadly. "I fear this may be the consequence of the Dragonfires going dark."

Baurus pondered the information for a moment, then nodded his head once.

"You may be correct. And if you are, then we are in far more danger than anyone could have foreseen."

Jauffre nodded solemnly.

"I am afraid we have no time to acknowledge our dread," Jauffre said. "We must find a way to close the portal."

Everyone turned to stare at the glowing gate, which was humming steadily.

"Eronor," Jauffre said, turning to the shepherd.

"Yes, brother Jauffre?" The dark elf replied. Jauffre could see the fear in his eyes too, and he tried his best to convey a calm expression.

"Contact the Imperial Legion, if we cannot find a way to close this gate, then we will need manpower to suppress the Daedra that come through. There is no telling the numbers that lie inside."

Eronor nodded quickly and ran back to the Priory, seemingly eager to get as far away from the demonic gate as possible.

"Baurus, my friend," Jauffre said, turning to the young Blade. "I am afraid that I can only think of one way to close this gate."

"We will have to…go inside," Baurus said, his eyes glancing at the gate once more.

"Yes," Jauffre said.

Baurus hesitated, then nodded once. "I am with you."

"And you?" Jauffre asked, turning to face the stranger in armor. "I'm afraid we do not know you, but we appear to be fighting on the same side. Will you help us close this gate?"

The figure looked from Jauffre to the gate, and Jauffre could see the fiery glow reflected from its visor. The figure regarded the gate for a moment, then turned to Jauffre and nodded once. Jauffre smiled.

"You have my thanks. May Talos bless you."

The figure didn't seem to know or care who Talos was as it immediately started toward the gate. Its metal weapon remained in its hands, and Jauffre nodded once to Baurus before following in the stranger's footsteps.

When they reached the gate, Jauffre and Baurus paused for a moment and looked up at the massive spire was the portal. The stranger paid them no mind and continued through the entryway. The fire swallowed it up, and Jauffre and Baurus shared a look before tentatively stepping forward through the gate.

A warm feeling fell immediately over Jauffre, as though he had suddenly stepped outside on a very hot day, and he was momentarily blinded by the bright red that filled his vision. Jauffre blinked his eyes rapidly in an attempt to adjust them, but in a short moment, he suddenly found himself in an entirely new landscape. Jauffre glanced around wildly, and what he saw chilled him to the bone despite the heat.

Before him lay what Jauffre could only call a nightmare. Everything Jauffre saw looked as though it wanted to die, kill him, or both. The ground was completely charred and dry, seemingly more infertile than any soil Jauffre had ever seen, but even so, Jauffre spied a few vines and grass growing out of the rock in some places, though none of them were varieties that he recognized. The sky was a deep red, and all around him stretched a massive lake of lava, bubbling and gurgling in a slow but ominous rhythm. Even more spikes protruded from the ground as well, and it seemed the entire purpose of this place was to torture those that occupied it. The stranger and Baurus stood next to him as well. Both were looking around the landscape, and Baurus's eyes were slightly widened.

"Where in Akatosh are we?" Baurus asked in disbelief.

"I believe I know," Jauffre said solemnly. "We have entered a realm of Oblivion, specifically the Oblivion realm of Mehrunes Dagon. The Deadlands."

"Are you sure?" Baurus asked incredulously.

"I'm afraid so, the texts I have read could not have provided a more accurate description of this hellish place."

Jauffre then turned his attention to a massive building that stood dead ahead of them. It was the only structure on the small island they were on, but it was easily taller than most chapels that Jauffre had ever visited. Spikes also protruded from the structure, and Jauffre could see a bright yellow glow coming from the pinnacle.

"The source of power to keep the gate open must be at the top of the spire," Jauffre said pointing. "If we disable it, it may close the gate."

Baurus and the stranger both stared up to the spire, then agreed with Jauffre. Baurus verbally. The stranger with a nod of its head.

"Ok then," Baurus said. "Let's get to the top of the tower and close this gate!"

As Baurus spoke, more daedra seemed to appear from places Jauffre had not seen before. Scamps, Deadroths, Spider Daedra, and Dremora alike seemed to come from nowhere. Despite their mysterious appearance, it was no mystery to Jauffre what their intentions were.

Raising his sword, Jauffre issued a few commands.

"Stay close together, we must fight our way to the top."

He saw Baurus and the stranger nod from the corner of his eye. Then, in an unspoken command, the three of them charged forward towards the tower, slaying any Daedra that stood in their path. Jauffre stayed light on his feet to avoid any blows that came his way and did his best to locate weaknesses among the Daedra he was battling. Baurus stood at his side, and at times, the two were back to back against the horde.

Though they slew many, Jauffre noticed with a start that for every demon that he slew, the stranger slew four or five. At one point during the battle in their rush to the tower, Jauffre looked over to see that the stranger had pulled a different weapon out. This one appeared to be an item made of wood with two metal cylinders protruding out the end, and the stranger held it in both hands. Each time the stranger used the weapon, it made a deafening boom and fired some sort of magic from its cylinders. The magic was nothing like Jauffre had ever seen before, as it seemed to cause an explosion against whichever creature the stranger fired it at.

Whatever that weapon was, it was proving exceedingly effective against the Daedric horde, and Jauffre had even felt a sense of invigoration as a Daedroth's head exploded from the magic the stranger possessed.

Finally making it to the door, the trio bolted inside to find even more Daedra inside the tower. There seemed to be no shortage of the foes, and Jauffre and Baurus quickly grew weary as they continued to battle their way upward to the top of the spire, pausing only for a moment in each room they cleared to catch their breath.

Jauffre quickly noted how the stranger never seemed to grow tired no matter how many Daedra they slew. Its armor must have been enchanted to fortify its stamina. Jauffre could think of no other explanation.

Another thing Jauffre noticed about the stranger was how it seemed to find more and more brutal ways to kill each Daedra they encountered. It had gone from ripping the head from a scamp to crushing a Spider Daedra's head from beneath its foot. In the pinnacle of gore, Jauffre had watched, slightly horrified as the stranger ripped a Daedroth's arm clean from its body and beat the scaly foe to death with it. Jauffre had always had a thick stomach, but even he began to feel slightly queasy form the brutality this stranger had delivered.

In addition to their weariness, Baurus and Jauffre also sustained multiple injuries from their push to the top of the spire. Jauffre healed them as best as he could, but before he knew it, he had expended all of his magicka. With no way to heal, Jauffre and Baurus took on many wounds before they reached the top.

Limping slightly with Baurus supporting him, Jauffre limped up the ramp and into the next room. Jauffre looked up wearily and saw that this must have been the top, as the chamber he stepped in was quite massive, and up a few more winding staircases sat a large glowing stone. The stone burned brightly, and a beam of fire extended from it directly into the floors below.

"There!" Jauffre said, pointing weakly to the stone. "That must be it."

Baurus and the stranger both silently agreed. They all began making their way to the first set of stairs.

Suddenly, a powerful fire spell struck the ground directly in front of them, and they all stopped in their tracks. Looking to the source, Jauffre's blood turned to ice in his veins when a Dremora stepped out of the shadows across from them.

Jauffre's disposition worsened even further when he realized that this was no ordinary Dremora. In addition to the glowing Daedric armor that he Dremora wore, it also carried a shield and a Daedric longsword at its side.

This was a Dremora Valkynaz. If Jauffre remembered his texts correctly, a Valkynaz was the highest rank a Dremora could obtain within the legions of Mehrunes Dagon. They commanded armies and were held in the highest prestige among the Daedra for their prowess in combat. And now, one stood before them. And neither Jauffre nor Baurus were in any shape to fight. This was bad.

The Valkynaz sneered at them but made no attempt to draw its weapon as the trio stood silently. A brief moment of tense silence passed between mortals and immortal, then the Dremora spoke.

"You have fought well, mortals. Well enough to shame my kin greatly, and thus, I seek to regain our honor."

Jauffre stood flabbergasted at the demon before them, but quickly regained his composure.

"What do you want from us then?"

"I want you to die," the Dremora chided. "But seeing your pitiful state, there is no honor to be regained in killing you two."

The Dremora was referring to Jauffre and Baurus's wounded state, of course. Jauffre tried his best to stand upright before the Valkynaz.

"Therefore, I issue a formal challenge to you," the Dremora then addressed the armored stranger. "Face me in single combat for the lives of your kin. If you are victorious, then I will be dead, and the sigil stone, yours. But if I- "

The Valkynaz suddenly bellowed in agony as a bright blue beam of light blasted through it midsection.

Jauffre stumbled back in surprise and looked to see that the source of the beam had come from none other than the stranger. Or to be more specific, the beam had come from a new weapon that the stranger held in its hands. This one glowed with a faint blue light and whirred passively.

Jauffre and Baurus stared at the stranger incredulously. The stranger turned to look at them, then shrugged. They then turned back to the Dremora. The force of the beam had torn the demon in two, even though it had been in full armor. Its upper torso lay a few feet from its legs, and its entrails were spewed everywhere. It was dead before it had even drawn its weapon.

Jauffre looked back up to the sigil stone, still burning atop the ramps.

"Let's get up there and end this," Jauffre said. Baurus and the stranger both agreed silently, and together they ascended the staircases and ramps to the top where the sigil stone sat.

Jauffre stared in a scholarly awe at the stone as they approached. It glowed and hummed with the magic of the Daedra, which was coming off of it in waves.

"The only concern now is how to remove it," Barus said. Jauffre squinted as he tried to find a discernable release on the stone's cradle.

The stranger stood silent for a moment, then reached out and unceremoniously yanked the stone from its spot.

Immediately the air around them was saturated with a bright light and a loud roaring. Jauffre could neither hear nor see anything except a bright white light. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed to the Nine that it would end.

Jauffre then felt the cool night air on his skin. He tentatively opened his eyes and looked around. The forests of Tamriel came into his vision, and Jauffre looked around wildly before realizing that they had been transported outside the gate. Baurus was standing next to him, and the stranger too, the sigil stone still held in one hand and the whirring beam weapon in the other.

Jauffre then looked back at the gate and saw that it was now gone. No demonic red energy hummed between the two spires, even though spikes were still present on the charred ground.

They had done it. The gate was destroyed.

Jauffre immediately felt a certain giddiness that he had not felt for a long time.

"By Talos, we did it!" He said, smiling wide.

Baurus chuckled next to him. "Yes. Yes, we did, my friend."

Jauffre beamed at him, then turned to the figure, who was examining the stone in its hand.

"You have my thanks as well, stranger. We would not have survived without you by our side."

The stranger looked up and nodded once before looking back at the stone.

"As for that," Jauffre said. "I know only a little of these sigil stones. Supposedly they contain a great power over a certain enchantment, with no two stones being the same."

Jauffre squinted and tried to decipher the Daedric runes inscribed on the small sphere.

"If I am correct, this particular stone relates to life forces. I think the inscription reads: 'life decay'. Now if only there were a way to harness it…"

Jauffre stumbled back as the figure abruptly crushed the stone in its hand. In awe, Jauffre watched the red Daedric energy seeped down from the figure's closed fist and into its beam weapon. As the energy seeped in, the weapon's glow changed from a light blue to a deep red to match the energy it had just absorbed.

"My word…" Jauffre said. "Well, I suppose that works."

Jauffre stood silently for a moment as the figure examined its weapon, then continued.

"I once again thank you for helping us close that Oblivion gate. I would be deeply grateful if you were to remain here and help us, but I cannot dispel a feeling that you are needed elsewhere.

The figure nodded, indicating that Jauffre was correct.

"I suppose this is where we part ways then. Farewell, my friend."

The figure looked from Jauffre to Baurus, then lifted its right hand and made a gesture with it that Jauffre didn't recognize. It was a closed fist with its thumb straightened vertically.

What it meant, Jauffre did not have a chance to find out, as the figure was immediately engulfed in a bright blue light. A loud bang was heard, and Jauffre staggered back for a moment before the light faded.

When he looked again, the stranger was gone.

Notes:

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter, just in case any of you weren't sure, the Doom Slayer has used the Sigil stone on the Gauss cannon. And the enchantment is a "Damage Health" enchantment, with my own personal twist on it. What is the twist you may ask? Well you will just have to wait and see! Remember to like and subscribe if you enjoyed the video...Wait, wrong platform...sorry! Heh heh I joke sometimes. Anyhow, make sure to review the story if you loved/hated it, I always love getting feedback. Until next time!

Chapter 10: Interlude

Ash burped loudly and tossed his beer can out of the window as the Delta rolled down the highway. Kelly made a disgusted face from the passenger seat.

"How you are supposed to be this heroic 'Jefe' is beyond me," Kelly said, shaking her head.

"Well, you know what they say, Kelly," Ash exclaimed nonchalantly with one hand on the wheel of the Delta. "You don't look a gift horse in the mouth."

"I have absolutely no idea how that is supposed to apply here," Kelly said with a roll of her eyes.

"That's 'cause you ain't the Jefe, chica," Ash said as he turned to Pablo in the back seat.

"Yo, Pablo," he said. "How about passing me another one of those beers?"

Pablo looked a bit uncertain.

"Not so sure that's a good idea, Jefe. You're already three beers in, and we are still a few hours away, so maybe you oughta pace yourself…"

"Hey now," Ash cut in. "Ain't nobody knows more about alcohol tolerance than yours truly."

Ash gestured to himself with his robotic hand that Pablo had made for him.

"In fact," he continued. "I basically wrote the book on the art of sobering up. Wouldn't've graduated high school if I didn't master that fine art."

Kelly rolled her eyes for the second time.

Pablo shook his head. "I guess if you say so Jefe…"

Pablo reached into Ash's duffel bag and began rummaging around, attempting to find the cool can of alcohol. His fingers brushed against some plastic, piquing his curiosity. Slowly, Pablo pulled out the item.

It was a Ziploc bag, and through the clear plastic, Pablo could see several burnt pieces of metal and a folded sheet of paper inside.

"Hey Jefe," Pablo asked with a frown. "What's this?"

Ash twisted in his seat and saw the bag in Pablo's hand.

"Be careful with that," Ash said, surprising Pablo with his sudden seriousness. He pointed at Pablo to emphasize his point.

Pablo was taken aback.

"Why? Wha-what is it?" he asked warily.

"It's a last resort. Ya know, just in case things get out of hand, or you're up against impossible odds."

Kelly smirked.

"What?" she asked. "Big bad Ash can't handle everything?"

"Oh ha. Ha. Ha," Ash said sarcastically, looking over at her. "I know it may be hard to believe, Kelly, but there a few things out there that are bigger than even me. And that there…" he pointed to the bag of shrapnel. "…is something you do not take lightly. If you ever have to use that bag, then you are in deep deep DEEP shit."

"Ok, ok, I get it!" Kelly said throwing her hands up. "Don't use the bag unless absolutely necessary."

Pablo suddenly didn't want to hold the bag anymore, and he quickly put it back into Ash's bag before reaching for the beer. Hopefully, he would never need to use it.

---

 

Chapter 11: Halo

Notes:

A/N: Awwww yeah, you already know what it is! I decided to bring you all a little something special for the tenth chapter, and what better to choose a franchise that everyone knows and loves. Everyone give a welcoming round of applause to our favorite Doom Slayer as he arrives in the Halo Universe! Reminder that I own nothing!

"Noble Six, activate the turrets and set up a perimeter."

Six winked his acknowledgement light from his HUD, signaling that he had heard and was in the process of carrying out the order. He glanced once more back up to the massive structure buried in the cavern before double-timing it to the first set of turrets.

What could Dr. Halsey have found here that was so damn important?

Six decided he would find out soon enough as he punched the activation command into the first turret's interface. He stepped back as the automated gun came to life. Its sensors designated him as a friendly, and Six double checked that all systems on the turret were operational before jogging to the next turret. Six repeated the process three more times before hightailing it back to the rest of Noble Team, who had set up fortifications outside the entrance to Dr. Halsey's lab.

"Turrets online, sir," Six announced as he took up position behind some of the sandbags.

"Just in time, Lieutenant," Carter replied over their COM. "We got phantoms incoming!"

Six could hear the ghostly whirring of the phantom in the distance. He had always assumed that all Covenant vehicles had been nicknamed after apparitions and spirits due to the eerie hum that they made. Six identified the phantom by sight just as a number of grunts and jackals poured out of the dropship. Six barely had time to take aim at the hostiles before Emile barked out a warning.

"Get down! Banshees, 12 o'clock!"

Six looked up to see a squadron of three banshees appear and take aim at their position. Six ducked behind the sandbags just before the aircraft opened fire. He felt the pulses of plasma turn some of his cover to glass before the banshees passed over head. Six's training immediately took over, and he rose out of cover and took aim at the approaching grunt and jackal horde.

Well-placed shots from his DMR quickly dispatched six of the aliens, but there were at least fifty of them approaching. If they reached their fortifications, there would be nowhere for the Spartans to run.

Luckily enough for Six, the wave of aliens had just come into the turret's range, and the mounted chain gun was music to his ears as the turret pelted ordinance into the swarm. The group quickly fell into disarray as the turret relentlessly pounded them, shredding through the jackal's shields and the grunts' methane packs. Bright blue and purple blood saturated the snow, melting through to the hard rock beneath.

The rest of Noble Team focused fire on the remaining aliens, quickly dispatching any stragglers.

"Six, grab a Jackhammer and take out those Banshees," Carter's voice instructed in Six's HUD.

Six winked his acknowledgement light and quickly hefted the launcher to his shoulder. The banshees had circled back for another pass and were already taking aim again.

Four banshees, the rocket launcher only held two rockets at a time, meaning Six would have to reload once if he wanted to take out all four.

He quickly did a calculation in his head, accounting for trajectory and time from firing to detonation, then took aim with the launcher and fired. The rocket burst from the weapon and arced in an intercept path. It made contact and detonated against the

banshee at the edge of the formation, blasting one of its wings apart. The sudden imbalance caused the Banshee to veer straight into the rest of the formation, crashing and destroying two other banshees in its path. The far aircraft was able to veer away from the wreckage just in time, but Six already had missile lock on the lucky survivor. The launcher kicked against his shoulder again, and another rocket burst forth, targeting the heat signature that the Banshee gave off. The small aircraft attempted to maneuver, but it was too late. The missile detonated against its nose, and the aircraft exploded quite spectacularly.

"Yeah! Nice job, Six," came Emile's voice from the COM channel.

"Look alive, Noble," Carter's voice drew the attention back. "We've got two more phantoms inbound."

Six looked and saw that indeed two more phantoms had swooped in. This time, the phantoms opened fire on the turret emplacements with their mounted plasma cannons, the explosive plasma quickly melted the fortifications, effectively destroying them beyond repair. Only when the turrets had been destroyed did the phantoms drop their cargo. More grunts and jackals poured from the sides, but Six saw a plethora of elites and Brutes drop from the ships as well.

"Brutes and elites!" Jun called out. He fired once from his sniper rifle. "Major-class, armor type and shield strength confirm."

"Roger! Noble Team, focus fire on the Majors."

Six acknowledged from his HUD. It was one of the earliest strategies devised to battle the Covenant. Grunts and sometimes Jackals would lose their nerve if their field commanders fell, and they would scatter and disorient. Which meant good things for the marines.

Six took aim at an approaching elite and targeted its head, where its shield was weaker. The first three shots rippled the shield, and the fourth broke through, beaming through the elite's light faceplate. The large alien fell to the ground, dead. Six instantly acquired another elite but was blasted to the side by a massive explosion of plasma to his right.

The heat blistered on his back, and Six immediately tucked into a roll as his training had taught him. Those who hesitated…died. As Six rolled back to his feet, Carter's voice barked in his HUD.

"Wraith contact, 200 meters out!"

"Sir, these fortifications won't stand up against that kind of firepower!" Emile's voice yelled over the COM.

"Hold this position Noble Team!" Carter ordered. "Stay mobile, don't let the Wraith lock in on your position."

Six acknowledged and hustled another section of cover: A thick steel wall built for just the purpose he needed. Peeking around, Six saw that there had to have been at least one-hundred aliens advancing on their position. Around three-quarters of that force were grunts and jackals, but none of that information offered comfort.

Pulling the Jackhammer back out, Six broke cover and fired directly into the center of the mass of aliens. The explosion blew a hole into the middle of the Covenant forces but had little effect on the overall odds of victory. Six moved out of cover to fire again but was immediately forced back behind the wall as the Covenant returned fire. Plasma burst against his shields en masse, depleting them to zero in an instant. The aliens continued to pelt his cover, bolts bursting and searing into the wall from the other side, and Six could feel the heat from the impacts through the dense metal.

Six pulled out a grenade and tossed it over his cover. A dull blast came from the other side, and Six heard cries of pain as the grenade did its job.

"Another phantom coming in!" Jun called. "Sir, we are being overrun!"

"Stand your ground Noble Team!" Carter commanded. "We fight until the last man!"

Six had no time to acknowledge, the advancement was nearly upon him, and Six could have sworn he heard the infamous plasmic hiss of an energy sword powering to life.

Another heavy plasma blast exploded next to Six, courtesy of the Wraith.

Six was a realist. He knew that these were nigh unbeatable odds, but Spartans felt no fear. He may go down today, but he was going to make damn sure that a few Covenant were going with him.

Just as Six leaned out of cover to fire again, he was greeted by a sudden burst of blue light and a loud bang between him and the encroaching threat.

Six's visor immediately compensated against the bright light, but Six found himself to be more confused than anything else. At first, he thought the light to be a plasma grenade exploding in his face, but he could feel no pain. Was he dead?

The light suddenly faded, and Six's visor brightened again. What he saw confused him. Before him stood a figure clad entirely in dark green armor. The fact that the figure was covered in armor was not surprising to Six, but a multitude of other things were. The first of which was its appearance. As far as Six's augmented vision could tell, the armor that this figure was human, and the armor it was wearing was certainly not of covenant origin, but it matched none of the current power armor or marine armor variants that Six knew of. The figure itself was not much taller than six feet, which made Six's best guess that this was an ODST from all of the armor it was wearing.

The biggest question on Six's mind was where the hell it had come from. It was as though a miniature Slipspace portal had opened and the figure stepped through, which opened a whole new line of questioning if that were the case.

Six noticed that the entire battlefield seemingly lulled at the unorthodox arrival, and all eyes were averted to the unexpected turn of events. Spartan and Covenant alike. Six was trained never to hesitate, but for some unexplainable reason, he felt it necessary that this figure made the first move. The rest of Noble Team seemed to agree. The cavern fell eerily silent save for the hum of plasma weaponry.

The figure was looking directly back at Six, its expression unreadable behind its helmet. After examining Six up and down, it turned and took in the rest of its surroundings. It examined the rest of Noble Team, then the Covenant that stood behind it. The closest alien to it was an elite major, an energy sword primed in its hand. The figure stared at the elite, an action that seemed to shake the alien from its stupor.

Yelling something in Sanghelli, the elite charged and swung the energy sword at the figure. Six watched in awe as the figure responded by preemptively stepping forward and striking the elite in the center of its helmet. The alien's shield failed, and the punch continued through and crashed hard against its skull. The elite's head snapped backward, and the rest of its body went with it, flying backward a few feet before landing in a crumpled heap on the ground.

It did not get up.

The figure had killed the elite with a single blow.

The action reanimated the entire battle field, and the Covenant forces yelled and fired at their new target. As Six ducked back into cover, he saw the figure produce what appeared to be a shotgun from nowhere and run headfirst into a pack of grunts.

"Who the hell is that?" Noble Six heard Emile's voice from his COM.

"Dot, what am I looking at?" Carter asked the AI.

Six heard the calming voice of Noble's A.I. inside his helmet.

"My apologies, Noble leader, this operative does not match any known personnel in the UNSC database. Nor does it match any category of Covenant files."

"What about the armor? Any idea where it's from?"

"Negative, it matches no design schematics for any armor in the ONI database."

"So, we're dealing with a ghost," Emile said.

Jun watched through his sniper scope. "Looks more like a demon to me," he said.

"Whatever he is, he's drawing Covenant fire," Carter said. "Light 'em up Noble."

Six didn't need to be told twice. He targeted the nearest elites and brutes and opened fire. The figure itself had disappeared form Six's view, but he could easily tell where he was, as the Covenant had seemingly forgotten about the Spartans and were frantic to bring down the newcomer.

Noble Six saw a bright plume of light burst forth in the distance. The Wraith. Turning back, Six opened a nearby hard case and pulled out a Spartan Laser, the UNSC's answer to any anti-personnel vehicle the Covenant threw at them.

Hefting the weapon on his shoulder, six looked down the camera sights and focused on the wraith in the distance. Holding down the trigger, Six heard the weapon charge with an electric hiss. A sighting light appeared, and Six trained it directly on the hatch that led to the pilot's seat. The armor was weakest there.

The weapon's hissing grew to a climax, then the weapon kicked, and a bright beam flashed across the battle field and into the Wraith. Six watched through the weapons sights and waited for the smoke to clear. As the black rolled away, Six saw that the shot had penetrated through the pilot's hatch and had hit the vehicle's plasma reactor. The Wraith had exploded into a pile of smoldering wreckage. It was out of commission.

Six then turned his attention to the Banshees in the sky. There were two left, and Six had three charges left on the Spartan Laser. Six took aim at the first Banshee, which was attempting to fire its pulse laser at something he couldn't see. The armored stranger most likely.

The Spartan Laser whirred up again, and Six braced as the weapon fired a red beam into the Banshee, which exploded in a bright purple fireball. Six repeated the process with the second Banshee as well. It was all too easy with them distracted.

As Six scanned the battlefield for remaining hostiles, he saw the figure emerge again from behind one of the rock faces. In one hand he held a struggling Brute by the throat, and the other held the double-barreled shotgun that Six had seen earlier.

As Six watched, the brute tried its best to free itself from the figure's grasp, attempting to peel its fingers away while gasping for breath.

The figure lifted its shotgun beneath the Brute's chin and blew the beast's head apart.

The figure then turned around to face an elite General wielding an energy sword, but the elite's progress was halted as Six blasted it to pieces with the Spartan Laser. The battlefield fell silent.

Six quickly scanned the area for stragglers but found none. They had either fled or were lying face down in the bloodied snow.

Six then looked back to the figure, which was approaching Noble Team, its shotgun still in its hands.

"Dr. Halsey," Carter said. "All Clear."

"Well done, Spartans," Halsey replied over the COM. "I'm opening the laboratory door."

The stranger reached Noble Team, and all four of them warily kept their rifles at the ready.

"Stay where you are," Carter said. The figure came to a halt a few feet away from them.

"Identify."

The figure said nothing.

"I said identify," Carter said a bit more forcefully. The figure still continued to stare at them.

"Do you speak English? You understand me?"

The figure looked at Carter, then nodded once.

"I don't think we're getting anything out of him, commander," Emile said. "He doesn't strike me as the type to talk."

"We need to know if he's a friendly. If that armor doesn't belong to us, then who does it belong to?"

"Bring that stranger inside with you, Spartan," Halsey's voice came on over the COMs. "I want to see this for myself."

Carter considered the odds for a moment, then nodded to Six.

"Get the door, Six. And you…" Carter gestured to the silent stranger. "You stay where I can see you."

The stranger said nothing, but started toward the door, bumping Carter none-to-kindly on his shoulder as he went by.

"Let's go," Carter said. The three other remaining members of Noble Team all acknowledged and followed their leader inside. Carter remained watchful of the stranger ahead of them, telling him where to go as they made their way through the facility.

Following a few more twists and turns, the five of them eventually arrived in a massive inner chamber. The ceiling rose high into the air and out of sight, and in the center, floated a massive orb glowing with power. The orb itself was constructed of semi-transparent energy, but it twinkled with spots of blue and gold, which appeared to be flowing in and out of it. On the ground sat a multitude of machines, each hooked up to the orb in some way, likely to study it somehow. And working furiously with the machines was Dr. Halsey, as though her ass was on fire.

Six had never seen anything like this in his life. This orb that floated before them was beyond anything human or Covenant that existed. The rest of Noble Team stared upward as well.

Emile was the first to break the silence.

"What is this stuff?" he asked in bewilderment.

"Knowledge," Dr. Halsey said without looking up from her work. "A birthright from an ancient civilization."

"Is it a birthright?" Jun asked. "Or are you meddling with something you cannot control?"

Dr. Halsey ignored the sniper and continued to tap away at the screens. Six thought he saw the stranger nod imperceptibly at Jun's words, but he couldn't be certain.

"This A.I. is its custodian, and she has chosen you as her couriers."

Six only then noticed the A.I. hovering about on a table. She appeared to be sitting inside a miniaturized version of the sphere above, and she glowed a bluish-purple as values and runes cascaded down her body.

"Chosen?" Emile asked. "By an A.I.?"

"By this A.I., yes," Dr. Halsey said, finally sparing a glance in Noble Team's direction. Her gaze lingered for a moment on the stranger, then she turned back to her equipment.

"Her measure of you carries as much weight as my own. Perhaps more," Halsey continued. "You are to take her to the UNSC shipbreaking yard at Aszod. There, you will find a Halcyon-class cruiser waiting to take her off-planet."

"I understand," Carter said.

"Do you?" Dr. Halsey asked.

A moment of silence filled the cavern.

"Mankind is outmatched," Halsey said. "When Reach falls - and it will fall – our annihilation is all but certain."

Six felt a chill run down his spine. He could not bring himself to disagree with the Doctor.

"Unless…" Halsey said. "…we can glean from this artifact a defense against the Covenant. A game-changer. On the level of the conical bullet in the nineteenth century, or faster than light travel in the twenty-third."

"And what if we can't?" Carter asked.

"What if we can, but the cost of doing so is our extinction?!" Jun asked a bit more forcefully than was necessary. This time, Noble Six was almost certain that he saw the stranger grow visibly angry at the possibility. He could only assume that this stranger had seen it happen before.

Dr. Halsey seemed to pause for a moment, Six thought he almost saw something in her eyes.

Sadness?

"Both are apt questions if there were somewhere else to place our hope," Doctor Halsey said. "But there is not."

She sounded almost tired.

Jun said nothing but turned his head and looked around the cavern. The stranger seemed to fix the A.I. with a curious gaze, as though the artificial intelligence was not what he expected. Was he expecting something else? Had he dealt with A.I. before?

Dr. Halsey tapped a button on the terminal the A.I. sat on, and the hologram disappeared. A handle sprung from the machine, and the doctor grabbed a hold of it and pulled. Six watched as Dr. Halsey pulled out a storage canister. The canister walls were made of glass and encased in hard steel, and Noble Six saw a deep blue light in the center which he assumed was the A.I. herself.

Doctor Halsey held the canister in both hands carefully, as though a single breath could shatter the glass. Slowly, she made her way over to Noble Six, who stood by the stranger. Halsey stopped and held the canister out to him.

"Take it Lieutenant," Dr. Halsey said. "She has made her choice."

Noble Six looked over at Carter, who nodded once. He then looked over to the stranger, who looked from the A.I. to him expectantly. Seeing no argument, Noble Six reached out and firmly grasped the canister in both hands.

"Do you have it?" Doctor Halsey asked him.

"Yes."

"Say the words, please."

"I have it," he said. Only then did Dr. Halsey reluctantly let go of the canister. Her gaze lingered over the A.I. a moment more, then she finally turned her attention to the stranger. Her eyes travelled over his form, and Six had no doubt that she was analyzing every aspect of his armor, from the color of the plating to the numbers stamped on the front.

"You are not wearing any armor that I have conceived or even thought of conceiving. I have never heard of you, and you appeared from a portal that was most certainly not slipspace. I saw it all on the cameras. You are not one of my Spartans, and yet you fight with such ferocity and vigor that you may as well be one. Who are you?"

The stranger looked at Halsey for a moment, then looked over at the A.I. that Noble Six held in his hands. He seemed to be considering something.

After a moment, the armored man seemed to come to a decision. Reaching behind himself, he popped something out of his suit. Bringing his hand back around, Noble Six saw that there was some sort of data chip held in his hand. Halsey saw the chip as well, and her eyes widened slightly, and her mouth fell agape. There was no doubt that she was itching to see what was on the drive.

She reached for the chip, but the stranger held its hand back for a moment. Doctor Halsey looked up at him, confusion in her eyes. The silent stranger gestured to the giant orb, then made a crushing motion with his fist. He wanted it destroyed.

"Yes," Halsey said. "This will be buried shortly after our departure, as much as it pains me so. You should even be able to watch if you so choose."

This seemed to satisfy the armored figure, and it held the chip out to Halsey, who took it in both hands.

"What is on this?" she asked, looking back up at the enigmatic individual before her.

The figure pointed to the canister in Noble Six's hands.

Doctor Halsey's eyes widened considerably. She looked as though she was about to burst from excitement.

"You…can't be serious?!" Doctor Halsey had always kept her composure in the past, but Noble Six thought he just might see her break at the possible contents of the chip.

"Doctor, we don't have time for this," Carter interjected. "We have to evac, now."

Doctor Halsey took a brief moment to compose herself, then nodded.

"Then I suggest we move, Commander."

…

The small group arrived outside the facility, right at the edge of the Pelican hangar. Two Pelicans awaited them.

"Doctor Halsey," Carter said, turning to face her. "Noble Three will escort you to CASTLE Base."

Halsey gave him a look.

"I require no escort, Commander," she said.

Carter ignored her.

"Jun, make sure nothing falls into enemy hands," Carter said, now looking at his teammate.

"I'll do what's necessary, sir…" Jun said knowingly. Noble Six hoped that Jun would not have to keep that promise he had just made.

"Good luck," Jun added sincerely.

"You too, rifleman."

Carter then turned to the stranger.

"If you're as good as you seem, then you're with us. We'll need all the firepower we can get on this one. As of right now, you're Noble Seven, got it?"

The figure nodded once.

"Welcome to Noble," Emile said. There was a hint of melancholy in his voice.

With that, the group split. Jun accompanied Doctor Halsey aboard one Pelican, and the stranger followed Six, Emile, and Carter aboard the second one. Six now had the A.I.'s canister strapped securely to the small of his back. It wasn't going anywhere. He followed the other three into the bowels of the Pelican.

Six watched as Carter made his way to the front of the craft.

"I need a heading, Dot," the Noble Leader said over his COM.

"At three kilometers north, turn right heading 050," the A.I. said into each of their COMs.

"Which leads to…?" Carter asked, simultaneously firing up the engines.

"The shipbreaking yards in Aszod," Dot replied calmly. "The only off-planet extraction point left on this continent. Small scale air attacks have decimated many convoys en route. An armada of Covenant Cruisers is hastening to the site as well. UNSC cruiser Pillar of Autumn is awaiting your arrival."

"Wouldn't be a Noble mission if it were easy," Carter said from the cockpit. The Pelican lifted off the deck and up in the air. Gaining speed and altitude by the second.

Six glanced over to the stranger, now Noble Seven, who was hearing Dot's voice for the first time. They had discovered that their COM channels were linked to his suit as well, effectively including him in each conversation. Upon observing his reaction to Dot, Six noticed no change in the stranger's posture. In fact, he only seemed more relaxed. It was almost like he was used to having an A.I. in his head.

The figure then watched out the bay door of the Pelican as the site detonated and buried itself and the artifact with it. He seemed satisfied.

…

Aszod, Eposz August 30, 2552 16:52 Hours

"Noble leader, seek immediate medical attention," Dot urged inside Six's head.

No reply came from the cockpit.

"Noble leader, please respond," Dot urged yet again. Six made his way to the front of the ship, but a burst of plasma fire flew through the open bay doors and the ship lurched as a result.

Noble Six glanced back just in time to see Emile fire an EMP round at the encroaching Banshees.

The round caught the Banshee, and its systems immediately ceased, causing it to crash into its partner. A third Banshee moved in closer, but the stranger fired a blast from his gauss cannon, blasting the vehicle apart like tin foil.

The weapon itself was a miniature MAC cannon, the likes of what Six desperately wanted to try out. But now wasn't the time.

"Sierra 259, you are alarming me," Dot's voice almost sounded worried.

Noble Six turned back to the cockpit just in time to see Carter throw his helmet to the ground. He was still in the pilot's seat, but he was struggling against the controls. The Pelican was resisting him at every turn.

"Not sure how long she's gonna stay together!" Carter called out. His blood was all over the windshield of the Pelican, the controls, his own armor…

"Skies are jammed up anyway. Gotta get you off her, Lieutenant," Carter said.

Six grasped the back of the pilot's seat.

"Sir," he started. "You-?"

"Don't wanna hear it," Carter said bluntly, not taking his eyes of the airspace. "Get the package to the Autumn."

Six was silent for a moment, then he nodded once in determination.

"Done," he said.

"Not yet, it's not…" Carter said. He turned in his seat and called back to Emile and the stranger. Both of which were still at the rear of the ship.

"You two, go with him! It's a ground game now."

The two of them turned to face the Commander.

"It's been an honor, sir," Emile said, pounding his chest in salute.

The stranger said nothing but nodded its head once in respect.

"Likewise," Carter called back.

Carter turned back and spoke directly to Six.

"I'll do what I can to draw their fire."

Six nodded and turned to prepare to jump.

"Six!" Carter called once more. The spartan turned and looked back to the cockpit to hear his Commander's words.

"That A.I. chose you…She made the right choice." His voice was hoarse from the blood.

Noble Six nodded to his leader, then turned and hightailed it back to the rear of the Pelican, where Noble Seven and Emile both waited.

Six removed the A.I. from its position on his back and grasped the canister tightly in both hands. He crouched down and prepared for the jump, facing toward the front of the Pelican. The other two did the same.

"On my mark," Carter said from the front, holding up three fingers. The three armored warriors waited expectantly.

Carter's fingers counted down.

3…

2…

1…

"Mark!"

Six jumped backward into open air.

At first, his stomach dropped with the sudden decrease of gravity, then he felt the wind being forced from his lungs as he made contact with the side of a hill. He held the canister tightly against himself as he slid down the hill, tensing hard until he came to a complete stop.

Noble Six waited for half a second when he stopped moving, then looked over at Emile, who had landed next to him. The stranger had landed not much further away. Both were picking themselves up from the ground, and Emile's shields had been completely depleted from the impact. Noble Seven's armor apparently had no shields, but neither of them seemed to be injured.

Six then glanced upward to see the Pelican scream past above them. One of its engines was on fire, and two Banshees trailed close behind it.

Six then picked himself up and checked the canister in his hands. Examination showed no outer damage at all, and the blue core inside still glowed brightly. Satisfied, Six secured the A.I. on the small of his back and drew his rifle.

He nodded once to Emile and then once to the armored stranger.

"Let's move," Emile said, taking point. Six and Seven followed closely behind. They had landed in a small crevice, leaving only one direction to go since up wasn't an option. The three of them followed the ravine until it opened up to a hill overlooking an even bigger canyon.

Noble Six spied the Pelican in the distance.

"Still with us, Commander?" Emile asked over the COM.

"Stay low," Carter's voice answered inside Six's helmet. "Let me draw the heat. Just deliver that package." Six winked his acknowledgement light in reply.

"There's our destination, Noble," Emile said, gesturing toward a massive structure in the distance. Six recognized it as a UNSC cruiser with his superior eyesight.

"The Pillar of Autumn…" Emile said. "Race you to her."

Noble Seven nudged Emilie and pointed to a pair of mongooses parked not far away. Only a small Covenant force stood between them.

"We got transport," Emile announced, before jumping down the cliff and engaging the Covenant at the bottom of the crevice.

Noble Six and Seven immediately followed after him, systemically killing every alien that stood in their way.

As they carved their way through the aliens, Six quickly learned that Noble Seven was somehow capable of holding more than the two weapons that his own Mark V could account for. Instead of switching weapons by placing one on his back, the weapon almost seemed to disappear, and another weapon took its place from the same thin air. It was a nifty trick, and certainly one that Noble Seven put to good use.

Another thing Six noticed is that while Emile and himself were more than capable of cutting a hole through these Covenant forces, Noble Seven seemed almost overqualified for the task.

Unlike Jun, who always had the mantra: "I kill the enemy, but do not hate them", Noble Seven seemed to truly loathe the Covenant. It was evident in his methods and amplified by his indestructibility.

He would charge straight into a mass of Covenant troops and empty his magazine into anything that moved. And when the magazine was empty, the gun was exchanged for another weapon, whether that was another firearm, a piece of metal, or his own fists.

At one point, Noble Seven produced a chainsaw and sawed a brute in half from its shoulder to its opposite hip. Dark purpled blood sprayed the Covenant around him as he halved the creature, and many grunts and jackals turned and fled at the gore they had just witnessed. Even a few elites took a fearful step backward. Six couldn't blame them. No matter what they threw at this nigh-mythical, figure he did not seem to go down. He didn't even appear to slow down.

"Save some of E.T. for me, Seven!" Emile shouted, brandishing his shotgun. Noble Seven's actions invigorated the close-range spartan, and Six too found himself growing more and more confident by watching the relentlessness of the newest member of Noble Team.

Soon enough, they had cleared out the Covenant presence and had reached the Mongooses.

"Let's mount up, Noble," Emile said. Six acknowledged and climbed on one of the Mongooses. He wasted no time starting it up. Emile jumped on the back.

"Noble Seven, grab a mongoose," Emile ordered. Seven looked at the mongoose then shook his head before breaking into a run down the road towards the Autumn. Six realized with a start that Noble Seven was running faster than any Spartan – let alone human - he had ever seen. He was running even close to what Six estimated to be this mongoose's top speed.

"No way…" Emilie asked as he watched the figure run. But Six heard him shake his head.

"Well, get after him, Six! He's leaving us in the dust!"

Six needed no more encouragement. He revved the engine and peeled off full throttle down the road toward Noble Seven, who was already almost a quarter kilometer away from them.

Six gunned the engine as they rounded the bend. Slowly, they caught back up to Noble Seven who turned to them and gestured to the road ahead.

Six glanced further ahead to see that the road crossed over a drop in the rock face via a bridge, but Six quickly saw what Noble Seven was gesturing to.

The bridge had been destroyed, most likely due to plasma blasts, as the metal twisted and melted in the middle, leaving a massive gap between its ends. Examining the situation as they approached, Six saw that the remains of the bridge on the bear side were bent in an upward shape. It almost appeared as a ramp.

"Put your hands up, Six. We're gonna have to jump it!" Emile yelled from behind him. He then turned to Noble Seven running alongside them.

"You got that jump, Seven?"

The figure put on a burst of speed in response, pulling ahead of the mongoose. Six braced himself and gave the mongoose all the throttle he could. The vehicle followed the curve up, and suddenly Six felt weightlessness again. The mongoose sailed through the air, and Six turned to see that Noble Seven had jumped from the concrete and over the abyss with them.

Six brought his attention back in front of him to see the concrete on the other side of the bridge rising up to meet him and braced for impact. The mongoose crashed hard, and Six felt and heard the chassis grind into the concrete beneath him before rising back up over the road.

The had made it.

"Noble," Carter's voice sounded inside Six's helmet. "Enemy forces blocking the road ahead."

Six immediately slammed on the brakes and the mongoose's tires squealed to a halt on the pavement. There was a deep grinding noise as Noble Seven ground to a halt next to him.

"Roger, sir. Looks like we're on foot, Noble," Emile said as he hopped off the back.

Six followed his lead. Checking the A.I. canister once more, he readied his weapon as a Covenant battle group approached from the road ahead. A standard twenty-five-man battle group. Mostly grunts and jackals with a few elites and brutes as well.

Nothing they couldn't handle.

"Got a Wraith! Southeast side!" Emile yelled warningly. Six confirmed his warning with a quick glance further down the road. That might be a problem.

"Get to cover!"

Six dove behind the nearest rock formation as the Wraith fired. A bright blast of plasma arced through the air and exploded where Six had just been standing, scorching the dirt and rock and rattling Six to the bone. Six immediately spotted Emile behind another rock face, quickly poking out and firing once before falling back into cover.

Six knew he had to move again before that Wraith locked in on his position. Wait, where was Noble Seven?

Six peeked out of his cover when he heard the Covenant personnel yelling in mixed cries of agony and surprise.

Noble Seven had charged straight at the Wraith, forgoing cover and personal safety for a direct shot at the vehicle. Anything that stood in his way had either been killed or destroyed, and the Covenant that had not been in the line of fire were struggling to regroup.

The Wraith itself saw the figure closing the distance, and it began hovering backwards at top speed, and Six saw the heavy plasma cannon on the back charge with energy. It intended to fire directly at Noble Seven before it reached the vehicle, but it was too late.

Noble Seven jumped forward and landed right on top of the Covenant tank. At the same time, the Wraith fired its main cannon. Noble Seven had been standing directly in front of it.

There was an ear-splitting boom, and a blinding light engulfed Noble Seven and the large Covenant vehicle. Six's visor adjusted immediately to the large photon input and dimmed the light down, but Six could still feel the heat of the blast. Covenant forces held up their arms and shields to protect themselves as well, but some of the unfortunately close ones had been engulfed by the blast as well, while others had been blown backwards by the shockwave.

The light faded down, and Six saw the remains of the Wraith. The armor on the front had been completely melted away, and whatever layer of circuitry that the Wraith had on the inside had been burned to a crisp. The cannon on the back had been vaporized, and the husk itself burned with a purple plasma fire.

The Covenant around the Wraith stared in awe for a moment, then Noble Seven burst from the charred wreckage, completely unharmed and with his shotgun in hand. Without hesitation, Noble Seven began thoroughly tearing through the alien force with extreme prejudice. Six and Emile immediately recovered, and joined in on the slaughter, pushing the surprised force back and eliminating them with efficiency.

Six finally finished off the last grunt with his combat knife, driving the blade deep into the smaller alien's neck. The trio quickly regrouped and broke into an easy run down the road, the canyon walls rose up again around them.

As they approached the next opening, Six heard Carter's voice again on the COM.

"Noble, you've got a…situation," his voice sounded apprehensive. Six immediately scanned the horizon for threats, but the subject of Carter's worry rounded the corner, showing itself immediately.

It was a Covenant Scarab.

"Mother fu…" Emile trailed off as the Scarab came into view. Six understood his reaction all too well. The Scarab was arguably the largest Covenant vehicle capable of ground combat. In addition to its massive size and durability, it was also capable of extreme maneuverability, making it one of the most feared forces to face. And it was looking right at them.

"We can get past it, sir," Emile said glancing sidelong at Noble Seven. His voice carried an air of uncertainty.

"No, you can't," Carter said. "Not without help."

"Commander!" Emile protested. "You don't have the firepower!"

There was a moment of silence on the COM, then Six saw the Pelican roar into view. It was a miracle it was still capable of flight, but Six watched as it zoomed past the Scarab before coming back around in a wide turn.

"I've got the mass," Carter said. He sounded resigned.

The Pelican came out of its turn directly on course with the Scarab. Six immediately understood Carter's plan. Emile saw it too.

"Solid copy," Emile said. "Hit 'em hard, boss."

"You're on your own, Noble," Carter said, firing the Pelican's chain gun as he closed the distance.

"Carter out."

The Pelican rammed the Scarab at full speed. The Scarab fell to the side against the momentum, and a massive explosion rocked the metal behemoth. The Scarab wobbled for a moment on its four legs, then a series of smaller explosions resounded throughout its massive form, and the Scarab toppled onto its side and fell into the canyon below. It was gone.

"Crevice to the East," Emile said. His voice was bitter. "Let's go."

Spartans were taught to never let their emotions show, but Six solemnly winked his acknowledgment light one last time. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Noble Seven. His grip was tight on his weapon and his shoulders were hunched in a gesture that Six could easily recognize as rage.

The remainder of Noble Team encountered minimal resistance on the rest of the run to the shipbreaking yards. When they arrived, Six saw that the facility itself was enormous, as he assumed it would be. This installation was capable of holding Punic-class carriers, one of the largest ships in UNSC history, so it made sense that it be as massive as it was. The jog to the drydock were the Autumn was located would be considerable.

Noble Six heard a new voice inside his HUD, one he had not heard before.

"This is Captain Keyes of The Pillar of Autumn. We are tracking you, Noble, and we've began our launch sequence. Proceed to Drydock: Platform D. I'll be there myself to receive the package."

"We'll be there, sir," Emile responded.

"Better be, soldier," Keyes's voice returned. "My countdown has no abort."

As Noble Team crested the hill to the yards below, the sight of a few dozen marines fighting the Covenant greeted them.

Without a word, the three armored heros leapt immediately down to assist.

"Spartans!" one of the marines said as they ran to the group. Six guessed him to be the squad leader. "Drydock is through that structure. If you can punch through, we'll back you up!"

"Roger. Take point, Noble Seven!" Emile shouted.

The unnamed stranger seemed only to eager to comply. He loaded his shotgun with malicious intent.

In no time at all, the trio pushed through the Covenant defenses and into the Drydock portion of the facility. As they sprinted to Platform D, Six noticed that a group of marines was already there and waiting.

"What's the situation?" Emile asked as they ran up to the fellow humans.

"We rigged a mass driver up top," the sergeant said, pointing. Six looked up and saw the massive gun already spinning up to fire. "We lose that…the Autumn has no covering fire. She'll never make orbit."

Emile nodded once to the marine.

"Noble to Keyes. We're at the pad," Emile said broadcasting to the Autumn.

"Copy, Noble," Keyes voice said back. "My Pelican is ready. Clear an LZ. We'll meet you there."

"Will do, sir," Emile acknowledged before switching to their local channel.

"Alright Noble," Emile said. "This is it. I'll man the big gun. You two just get to the platform and deliver that package."

"Roger," Six said, jumping down to the landing space. Noble Seven dropped down next to him. Emile nodded and ran up to the cannon.

Almost immediately, Covenant drop pods rained down on the platform. Phantoms appeared on the horizon as well, making course directly for the platform.

"Hold him off until Keyes gets here!" Emile yelled. Six heard the MAC cannon whirr to life behind him and glanced up as the cannon bucked and spewed a massive round of hot metal directly through an approaching phantom. The round penetrated through the length of it, and the dropship lurched to the side and plummeted down. The threat had been neutralized.

Six immediately focused back on the drop pods, using the cramped quarters to funnel any Covenant that appeared into a single line of fire. He heard the blast of Noble Seven's shotgun fire close by, and that noise alone gave him comfort.

Soon enough, the skies and platform were clear of all Covenant forces. Just in time too, as Six saw two Pelicans approaching form the Autumn's massive bulk. Six jogged up to the landing pad as Keyes's voice sounding in his helmet again.

"This is Keyes, on hot approach to Platform Delta."

The first Pelican turned around, opening its bay doors. The escort Pelican hovered nearby. Marines poured out and set up a defensive circle, and Six watched as Captain Keyes himself stepped out of the bird. Noble Seven stepped onto the platform behind him. Keyes jogged briskly over to the duo. Six grabbed the canister and held it out as Keyes approached.

"Good to see you, Spartans," Keyes said after sparing a glance at Noble Seven. He grasped the canister in both hands. "Halsey assured me I could count on you."

"Not just us, sir," Six said wearily. Keyes reached out and touched his arm reassuringly.

"They will be remembered," he said.

Keyes turned back to the Pelican, but his eye caught something on the horizon. Six followed his gaze and saw nothing good.

"Covenant Cruiser!" Keyes yelled, speaking onto his COM. "Adjusting course for the Autumn!"

Keyes was right, a Covenant cruiser was making a beeline for their position.

"Noble four," Keyes continued. "I need fire on that Cruiser or we aren't getting out of here! Do you copy?"

"I'll have your window, sir," Emile's voice came over the COM.

Keyes nodded towards the cannon before hastily boarding the Pelican.

"Bridge, this is the Captain. We have the package. Returning to the Autumn. Over."

No sooner had he spoke than did a Phantom suddenly appear from around the corner and rain fire down on the Pelican escort. The Pelican's metal hull buckled under the heavy plasma and went down hard on the platform.

Six and Seven both dove out of the way as the metal screeched by.

Immediately looking up, Six saw that the Phantom had moved over to the MAC cannon. Zealot class elites jumped down onto the gun, energy swords in their hands.

The first one to reach the cockpit was immediately blasted backward by Emile's shotgun. The elite fell down to the ground, wounded but alive. Emile pulled himself from the cockpit and finished the job with another blast. The elite fell still.

"Who's next?!" Emile shouted in rage. Without warning, the second elite jumped up behind him and impaled him through the back with his energy sword.

Emile grunted in pain but managed to twist around to face the elite. His knife was in his hand.

"I'm ready!" he cried out, burying his knife into the elite's neck. "How 'bout you?!"

With a heave, he pulled the elite to the ground and out of sight. Six heard on last grunt of pain, then his COM went dead.

Keyes's Pelican approached the Platform again.

"Spartans!" One of the marines aboard barked. "Get aboard! We gotta get the hell out of here!"

"Negative," Six said numbly. "We have the gun." He glanced sidelong at Noble Seven, who nodded once. He wasn't going anywhere.

"Good luck, sir," Six said to Keyes before turning and sprinting up to the cannon. Noble Seven ran beside him.

Keyes watched the two of them as they hightailed it to their station.

"Good luck to you, Spartans," Keyes murmured. There was a fine level of respect in his voice. The Pelican engines grew louder, and the aircraft pulled away as Six and Seven reached the MAC cannon. They paused a moment at the top, gazing over to where Emile lay among the bodies of the elites. His knife was still in his hand. Six allowed a brief moment of silence before turning to Noble Seven.

"I'll clear the skies. You got my back?"

The stranger nodded once without hesitation. That simple nod filled Six with all the courage he'd ever need. Even though he had met this man not but a few hours ago, Six somehow knew that he would stand beside him until the very end. That was what he had been missing during all his time spent as a lone wolf. God, did it feel good.

Without another word, Six climbed the ladder and dropped into the cockpit of the MAC cannon. Noble Seven immediately drew out another weapon and took up a defensive position next to the gun.

"Noble Six," Keyes's voice said. "That Cruiser is moving into position, I need it dead."

"Roger," Six said before taking aim at the Cruiser's midsection. He squeezed the trigger and felt the capacitors wind up to a deafening volume before firing the round directly into the Cruiser's shields. The shields themselves rippled at the impact, but the ripple faded quickly. The ship remained undamaged.

Six quickly initiated the reload sequence. He vaguely heard the sounds of plasma weaponry around him, but he also heard the sounds of rifle fire as well, meaning that Noble Seven and the marines were still fighting. So too would he.

Charing the capacitors again, Noble Six felt the weapon buck again as it fired another round directly into the Cruiser's midsection. The shields rippled again and settled. The ship had again sustained no damage.

"Damnit!" Keyes's voice came over the radio. "The mass driver can't crack those shields. Look for an opening, Noble Six!"

Six didn't even have time to respond before the Cruiser's shield peeled back over the middle of its underbelly, right where its massive energy projector weapon was located.

It began to glow with red plasma. They were going to glass the station.

"Fire now Lieutenant!" Keyes barked into the COM. "Hit her in the gut!"

The mass driver had already fired. Six had aimed directly into the center of the glowing plasma, and right as the round hit, the center of the Cruiser burst, tearing the giant ship in two.

"Good guns, Spartan!" Keyes said. "All stations brace for cast off."

Six climbed down from the driver as the Autumn's engines roared to life. The ship slowly hovered into the air, drifting away from the dock a short distance before fully activating its thrusters and propelling itself into the atmosphere.

Six watched Noble Seven kick one last grunt over the edge before turning to watch the ship's departure.

"This is the Pillar of Autumn," Keyes's voice said. The signal was weak as the ship grew farther away. "We are away, and the package is with us."

With that, the Pillar of Autumn disappeared into the sky.

…

Planet Reach, August 30, 2552 20:00 Hours

Noble Six stood on top of the hillside and watched as Banshees and Phantoms filled the sky. Noble Seven stood next to him. Six supposed it was a bit ironic: The last two additions to Noble Team were also the last two alive. He supposed someone could find a joke somewhere in that.

Six was roused from his thoughts as a Covenant patrol spotted them in the distance. A grunt yelled loudly and pointed, and the elite field commander began speaking rapidly into its COM. Noble Six drew his DMR.

"Looks like the Doctor was right," he said mournfully.

Noble Seven said nothing.

"Reach is lost, but we're still here. What do you say we finish this fight?"

Noble Seven looked over at him and cocked his shotgun in response.

"That's what I like to hear."

…

The battle raged on for hours, and the Covenant just kept coming. Nobles Six and Seven worked flawlessly together, like two cogs in a machine. One would reload while the other covered his back, yet neither spoke a word. For every elite they brought down, two more took its place. For every Ghost they destroyed, another Wraith would appear on the horizon. Seven's armor was indestructible, and he seemed to realize that Six's was quite the opposite, so at one point, the fearless warrior shielded Six with his own body against the tide of plasma and needles. The system worked for a while, but eventually, the two of them were completely surrounded.

Soon, firearms were forgotten as the duo engaged the enemy in hand-to-hand combat. They had forced themselves behind a choke point, so that only a few Covenant could attack at a time. Six was capable of handling one or two elites at a time, but Noble Seven stood against at least eight or nine attackers at all times and seemed to have no problem disposing of them in a bloody scourge.

Six felt as though this was a stable solution until a Wraith's plasma round struck the ground right in front of them.

Noble Six's vision went bright white, and he felt the sensation of tumbling end over end until he hit the ground hard. His shields were gone, and his helmet was cracked in so many places that he could not see out of it.

With a grunt, he pulled the helmet from his head and discarded it. It was useless now. His vison was still a bit blurry, but he saw Noble Seven run up to him. Six took him in, his armor was still undamaged, and he seemed in no way hurt at all by the massive plasma blast that he had just taken at point blank range.

Six then realized just how much he himself was holding Noble Seven back. Had Six not been there, this juggernaut would not be constrained by the increasingly burdening task of protecting the Spartan. Six chuckled inwardly at the irony. For once, the Spartan was the weak link.

"Go ahead," Six said, picking up his DMR from the ground. "I'll hold this position as long as I can."

Noble Seven said nothing, but Six knew that they both were on the same page. Noble Seven stood silently for a moment, plasma bolts raining all around them, then raised his arm to his chest, saluting the final Spartan of Noble Team.

Six nodded once, then gestured for Noble Seven to go on and leave him be.

Noble Seven nodded to him one last time, then turned and ran headfirst into the Covenant horde.

Six watched him for a moment, then whirled around at the hum of an energy sword behind him. He ducked just in time as an elite swung the weapon over his head, then he lashed out with his elbow, catching the elite in the jaw. The alien roared in pain and stumbled back, giving Six enough time to fire a half magazine of rifle rounds into its chest, killing it. Six had barely enough time to turn again before another elite tackled him to the ground. The elite summoned a small energy sword to its wrist and attempted to stab at him, but Six kicked the monster off him with a heavy boot. The elite stumbled away, and another elite zealot appeared to his right with another energy sword, preparing to strike.

With no time to get up, Six reached out and punched the elite in the face before it could get to him. This stunned the elite for a moment, and Six desperately tried to stand before he saw the first elite plunge its smalle energy sword towards his face. His eyes barely registered the sight before the world went dark.

…

The Doom Slayer heard Noble Six die behind him as he ripped a grunt's head from its body. He could feel it in his bones. It coursed through his very being, and quickly turned into white-hot rage that boiled over in an uncontrollable torrent.

Within seconds, the Doom Slayer was upon the scene, slaughtering the elites that stood over Noble Six's body in the time it took to blink. His weapon was forgotten as his vision turned blood-red.

No Covenant forces within a five-kilometer radius survived the ensuing carnage. In fact, not much of anything survived. Each body was ripped to shreds, each vehicle bent into unrecognizable shapes, each weapon mangled beyond use…

He wasn't just rage, or brutality, or mercilessness, he was far worse. He was the void, and everything was erased within his wake.

When the dust cleared, a single Banshee flew from the scene. It set a straight course to a Covenant Cruiser in the distance, and as the Banshee drew nearer, so too did deliverance…

…

A single elite major walked with purpose through the halls of the Capital Ship. Unfortunately, he had been chosen to bear the bad news to the Fleet Supreme Commander, an act which dishonored him greatly. The major would have much rather given the task to an Unggoy or Kig-Yar, but news of this magnitude necessitated someone of higher rank. And so here he was.

Walking through a larger door than the others, the elite immediately saluted as soon as he entered the room to the chair located in the center.

"Supreme Commander, another cruiser has been destroyed…that is…five now."

The elite sitting in the chair clenched his fists angrily before speaking.

"It was my understanding that the fifth ship was to be destroyed without an attempt to board."

"Yes, Supreme Commander," the major said, doing his best not to bow his head before the Supreme Commander. To avert his gaze was to dishonor him. He continued.

"No attempts were made to board the ship, it was simply destroyed by our cannon fire."

"Were any transmissions recovered from the ships before their destruction?" the Supreme Commander asked.

"Yes," the major replied, glad to at least have a bit of good news.

"On screen," the Commander ordered. A holographic screen came to life across from him at his command, and a video feed began to play. An unggoy's face filled the screen.

"Help! Heeelp!" the small alien screamed at the camera. "Enemy has boarded ship! He kill all crew! Even big brutes are dead! AAAAAAGH!"

The grunt ran out of the camera frame, showing a long stretch of hallway behind him. In the hallway stood a figure in dark green armor that the Supreme Commander recognized as human. However, this human struck the Commander as something extraordinary. The figure fired a human projectile weapon at something off-screen, likely the grunt, as it immediately fell silent.

The human then approached the camera from the hallway, stopping right in front of it and staring into the lens.

Up close, the Supreme Commander could see more distinctive features. The armor that the human donned covered him from head to toe, and its helmet had a visor that completely concealed its face.

The figure then drew its fist back and brought it forward into the camera. The screen went dark.

"That is all of the transmission, Supreme Commander," the major said.

The Supreme Commander thought for a moment, then spoke again.

"This came from the fifth ship? The one that was destroyed?"

"Yes, Supreme Commander," the major confirmed.

"Very well. Bring our ships closer to the sacred ring, we must vacate the area immediately lest it still lives.

"Yes, Sir!" the major saluted once more before hastily leaving the chamber, leaving the Supreme Commander alone with his thoughts.

The Supreme Commander was at a loss. No human they had ever encountered had the capacity to destroy five ships. He had heard reports of teams of specialized humans taking down one, but not reports of a single human destroying five. The Supreme Commander concluded a truth from that evidence.

No ordinary human that had done this, this was the work of a demon.

Hopefully, his decision to destroy the fifth ship with the demon aboard had killed it, or at the very least had stranded it in space. The Fleet of Particular Justice could not afford any more losses.

With a shake of his head, the Supreme Commander pulled himself from thoughts of this demon. He had other matters to focus on.

Pulling up another view screen, the Supreme Commander observed their approach to the sacred ring with interest. He was scanning specifically for the Pillar of Autumn…

Notes:

A/N: Whew! That was the longest single chapter I have ever written, but boy was it worth it. I decided to pick Reach because it gave the Slayer plenty of Covenant to throw himself at, but I know exactly what you guys are thinking: 'What about the flood? Why can't you make him meet Master Chief?' Well...I didn't want to say anything, but I have been maybe toying with the aspect of having our beloved Slayer somehow end back up in the Halo universe, but we will just have to wait and see won't we? Until next time!

Chapter 12: Jack Reacher

Notes:

A/N: Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas to all! Happy Holidays! I hope everyone has been having an excellent holiday season! I've got a brand new chapter in my gift bag here. This time, the Doom Slayer is coming to town with "Jack Reacher". Now, I know it isn't a christmas-y kind of genre, but I thought it would fit nicely anyway. I thought very hard about doing a chapter about the movie "Krampus", but there were a few obstacles that I just could not get around. Either way, I hope you enjoy! Don't forget to tell me your feelings of love/hate by leaving a review! Remember that I don't own anything!

Jack Reacher looked out the window at the snow-covered landscape. He had never been a fan of the cold, which is why he always preferred to spend his winters somewhere south, closer to the equator. 'Prefer' was putting it mildly, as it was one of the few things that really annoyed Reacher about the seasons changing. As a result, Reacher made a point of making his way south each year to find warmer weather.

An observer of his migratory habits might have called him a pussy, but the way Reacher saw it, if you had the luxury of choosing, why waste it? He could also care less what some average joe thought of him.

Unfortunately for Reacher, his migration had been held up by events beyond his control. One thing after another had seemed to slow him up, and now, Reacher was stuck in Missouri on Christmas Eve. A region not as far south as he would've liked, as heavy snow blanketed the landscape and below-freezing temperatures seeped into every man-made structure around.

Reacher stepped out of the truck and waved once to the driver inside. The driver acknowledged with a nod of his head and drove away, the smell of exhaust stayed behind. Reacher watched the shape of the vehicle for a few moments, then turned and examined his surroundings.

The town he stood in was called Devil's Drop, or so the truck driver had told him. The guy had been a social worker with a main office based in St. Louis, and he was making a trip down to Cassville to deal with a client, which meant that he had to be going a little under 4 hours' worth of driving in Reacher's desired direction.

The driver was the owner of a bright-red Ford Focus, one of the newer models designed for a workaholic with no kids. Sleek and compact, and therefore perfect for a guy like him, but not for a guy like Reacher. He had cranked the passenger seat as far back as it would go for leg room. Despite that, the ride had been smooth and comfortable, and Reacher had swapped pleasant conversation with the guy as the bright lights of the city disappeared behind them. When the guy told Reacher where he would be stopping, Reacher had inquired about the name.

"Why is it called Devil's Drop?" Reacher had asked.

The guy chuckled.

"Dunno, maybe you oughta ask one of the locals. I'm sure it's a hell of a story."

Maybe it was a hell of a story, but then again, maybe it wasn't. Reacher had seen it work out either way before. From great stories of pioneers fending off devilish Natives in the early 19th century to a kid dropping a cake in the street could have explained the name.

Taking a look around, Reacher noticed that he stood in what appeared to be the center of town. The town square, in fact. The street lamps and buildings were all studded with Christmas decorations. Tiny bulbs of red and green glowed proudly against the setting sun, quickly replacing the star as the main source of light.

A park sat across the brick-laid street from Reacher, the trees and grass and benches all covered with pure-white snow. On the other side of the park stood the town hall. It was an old building with a style that reminded Reacher of something the Ancient Greeks had worshiped their gods in, but he doubted that the building he was looking at was served that purpose.

On Reacher's left stood a few shops for clothing, electronics, spare parts, etc. They all looked like they were about to close, but he saw a few stragglers still browsing through the windows. Perhaps they needed a few last-minute gifts for friends loved ones. It was Christmas Eve, after all.

Reacher then turned his gaze to his right and saw something far more his speed.

It was a book store, but it appeared to be a combination of a book store and a diner. Must have been some guy's way of revolutionizing the book-buying process. Reacher could picture a thousand dopey slogans to go along with it.

Reacher liked books as much as the next guy, but the diner portion of it is what caught his attention. Diners were designed to be welcoming. After all, they offered food, warmth, and coffee. All of which Reacher was in need of at the moment. The coffee being the top of the list.

A cold breeze blew through the light jacket that Reacher wore, prompting him to cross the street quickly and enter through the diner/bookstore's main door. As he stepped inside, the immediate warmth of the building covered him, making him already feel much better. Taking a look around, Reacher saw that the diner itself occupied a small portion of the building, with the bookstore holding most of the ground. Therefore, the diner seemed slightly cramped as the bookstore portion encroached on its territory, but there was only one other patron, and Reacher smelled coffee, so he took a seat in the back, facing the front door. His favorite place to sit in a diner.

A waitress glided over to his table, all smiles and cheer. She wore a nametag with glowing Christmas lights on it, and she beamed down at Reacher as he ordered coffee. She could have been in a Hallmark movie.

The waitress left and immediately returned with a mug and a pot of coffee. She filled the mug, and then took Reacher's dinner order. They had a Christmas ham special on the menu, and Reacher ordered it as well as a cheese burger. The waitress nodded, not bothering to write down his order since he was one of two other patrons in the diner.

After the waitress glided away, Reacher took a sip from the steaming mug. It wasn't half-bad. Strong, but not too strong. He had tasted better, but he had also tasted worse. Reacher then took the time to notice the only other person sitting in the diner.

It was a woman, and Reacher guessed her to be somewhere in her mid-thirties to early forties. She was tall, and she was wearing a heavy sweatshirt with jeans. Not the most ideal for the weather outside, but Reacher wasn't one to judge given his also relatively light attire. Her hair was a dark brown, and it was tied up in a ponytail at the top of her head.

All of her attention was focused on her cellular phone, a long, flat, and smooth rectangle with a single screen and only one button on its front face. The woman appeared to be agitated about something. Reacher could see it in how she fidgeted with her hair and impatiently tapped her foot.

Given the scenario, Reacher could only assume that her problem was related to the impending holiday, the weather, or both. Her anger seemed to culminate all at once, and she threw one of her hands in the air incredulously before slapping her phone down onto the table. She then looked up directly at Reacher.

"I don't suppose you know any good car rental places around here," she asked.

"No," Reacher said.

"Figures. Guess I'll have to get used to the idea of spending Christmas in the lovely Devil's Drop."

"Problems with the car?"

"Problems with everything."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault."

Reacher inwardly cracked a smile. Usually that was his line. The woman remained silent for a moment, then stood up and made her way over to where Reacher sat. She paused for a moment longer, then took a seat opposite Reacher.

"Since I'm stuck here for the holidays, might as well spend it with someone."

Reacher could think of no argument against that.

Introductions were made. The woman introduced herself as Lindsey Ibarra. She was making her way back to Chicago to spend Christmas with her parents, but her car had broken down just outside the edge of Devil's Drop. She was still an eight-and-a-half-hour drive from home, and neither of her parents' vehicles could make the trip soon enough to get her back to Chicago. Her parents were far too old to be driving anyway. She was effectively stranded.

Reacher knew the feeling. He was in the exact same predicament. But Ibarra made it a little bit better, at least in his eyes.

The food came, and Reacher and Ibarra both ate. The food was good, and the conversation was better. Reacher was enjoying himself until his eyes caught commotion through the diner's window.

A bright light appeared just outside of what Reacher could see through the window, and a loud bang sounded and rattled the glass of the diner. It was a stark contrast to the quickly darkening atmosphere outside. Ibarra turned in her seat to discern the source of the noise, and the two of them watched in confusion as a figure appeared and angrily threw open the door of the dinner. The glass cracked as the door slammed against its backstop, but both Reacher and Ibarra were both too fixated on the stranger than to notice the door.

What was so unorthodox was that the stranger was covered from head to toe in some kind of suit. Thick green armor plating covered nearly every square inch of his figure, ending with a helmet with a visor that Reacher couldn't see through. The guy looked like he belonged on the set of a Sci-Fi movie. Or maybe a video game convention. A likely possibility. People dressed up in far weirder costumes than the one that the stranger was wearing. Maybe he was supposed to be there instead but was now stuck in Devil's Drop like him and Ibarra. One thing Reacher did know for certain was that the stranger was angry. Very angry. As though he had been snatched from where he wanted to be and thrown into town. Reacher felt like he was getting warmer.

The stranger immediately stomped over to the bookstore potion of the building and began searching the shelves for something.

"What the hell is up with this guy?" Ibarra asked with a frown. Neither of them took their eyes off the stranger, who continued searching the shelves. Unaware that he was being watched.

"He's looking for a book."

"I mean besides that. What is he wearing? I've never seen anything like that before."

"It could be the new fashion. Extra protection against the cold."

"Do you really believe that?" Ibarra adopted a doubtful expression and glanced back at Reacher.

Reacher said nothing.

"Well, whatever his problem is, I'm staying out of it."

Reacher again said nothing, and the two of them returned to their meal. Reacher occasionally glanced back over to see the figure still rifling through the books. He had seemed to localize in the Sci-Fi section of the stock, and was now examining the covers of each book, still searching intently.

The waitress brought their checks shortly after the finished their meal. Even her saturated holiday cheer seemed to falter at the presence of the stranger in the bookstore section. Reacher asked if there was a motel in the town, and the waitress immediately perked up and told them there was one only a few blocks away. After she left, Reacher saw the stranger sit down hard in one of the nearby tables, a book in his hand.

Reacher glanced at the cover and saw a picture of another figure dressed in armor. The figure on the cover was quite similar to the one holding the book, but Reacher picked up a few differences between the two.

Above the figure on the cover in big block letters, the word HALO was printed in some Sci-Fi font. There were other words on the cover too, but they were too small for Reacher to make out.

The picture and title meant nothing to Reacher. So, he stood up from the table, and Ibarra stood up with him. The movement brought them slightly closer together for a moment, and Reacher caught a faint whiff of perfume. It smelled good.

"It's getting dark. We should get to that hotel," Reacher said.

"Agreed," said Ibarra.

Reacher nodded and spared one last glance at the stranger in green armor before following Ibarra out of the diner and toward the direction the waitress had indicated.

The cold whipped and whirled about them as they walked, trying to get through any opening in their clothing. Ibarra pulled her hood up. They walked for a few minutes on the sidewalk before the small motel came into view.

Like many motels that Reacher had seen, it was shaped like a rectangle, with three sides constituted by rooms and the fourth by an office, leaving a small area in one of the corners to enter and exit the place. The parking lot sat in the middle.

As the two of them entered the rectangle, Reacher saw that there were a few other cars parked in the lot. His attention was immediately drawn to two pickup trucks in particular. They were two supped up Chevys, with multiple additions to them that either increased performance or visual appeal. They were lifted high and looked well-maintained, evidence that their owners had money to spare for things like that.

The two trucks were parked so that their two tailgates faced each other, and between them, a small fire pit had been constructed right in the hotel parking lot. A group of eight guys sat around the makeshift campsite, and beer cans littered the ground at their feet. They all wore plaid and fur winter gear, making it seem like they had all just returned from a big hunting trip.

In Reacher's mind, he supposed the scenario made sense. A group of rednecks didn't want to spend the holidays all cooped up at home, so the next best option was to go camp out in a spot that blocked the wind on three sides. Sound thinking for rednecks.

They were on the opposite side of the rectangle, but as Reacher and Ibarra approached the office, he heard one of the guys whistle at Ibarra from across the parking lot. Ibarra noticeably stiffened, but she said nothing.

The two of them entered the office. A bored looking guy in about his mid-fifties sat behind the counter, watching some Christmas program on a small TV. He looked up expectantly as Reacher and Ibarra approached. Ibarra hesitated, so Reacher requested two rooms. The guy produced two keys from behind the counter in return and gave them to the two of them. In actuality, keys only described their function. Physically, they were plastic rectangles about the size of a playing card. They had a magnetic strip on the back that would open the door to their rooms when slid through the door handle. Classic key teeth and tumblers were being replaced with code and algorithms.

The rooms were 343 and 344. Right next to each other on the third floor.

Reacher and Ibarra stepped back out into the cold. The sun was all but gone, casting long shadows on the quickly darkening landscape. Reacher squinted and saw that their two rooms were directly across the lot, with the makeshift campsite directly between them and their destination.

"Great," Ibarra said.

Reacher said nothing.

Wordlessly, the two of them walked at an angle to miss the group on their way to their rooms. Unfortunately, that still brought them within ten feet of where the group was, far closer than Reacher would've liked to be. The group watched them as they closed the distance.

Ibarra pressed close to Reacher. He could feel her warmth under her sweatshirt.

"Maybe we ought to go back and suggest different rooms…"

"No," Reacher said.

"Why?"

"It's about standing your ground. They know we are coming. If we turn back now, they'll know they can walk all over us."

"This isn't a pissing contest. This is about common sense."

"Common sense also says that you shouldn't let anyone know that they have an advantage over you. That just leads to more trouble."

Ibarra didn't say anything back. They were now within twenty feet of the group, and Reacher watched as each of the rednecks stood up and moved to block their path. They all formed up in a rough arc as Reacher and Ibarra stopped. They were perfectly between Reacher and his room, which meant they were also perfectly between Ibarra and her room. Reacher could've drawn a straight line from the two of them to their respective rooms, and it would've gone right through the center of the redneck formation in front of him. That is, if they looked at it from a dead straight from-above perspective.

In reality, the two of them needed to go either left or right to a set of stairs that led them to the third floor of the motel. The two staircases were equidistant from the two of them, so they had the luxury of choosing which one they wanted to use. That is, if it weren't for the group in front of them. They were all looking at Ibarra. Some were sneering.

"Go upstairs," Reacher said, pulling his key from his pocket. He held it at his side, but he shifted his grip so that the rednecks could see it in his palm.

"I'll handle this."

Ibarra looked at him with fear and confusion, but Reacher looked back and nodded reassuringly. She slowly peeled away from him and took a wide circular path to the set of stairs on the left. None of the rednecks moved to stop her, but most continued to watch as she climbed the stairs.

Reacher was running a bluff. As far as the Neanderthals in front of him knew, him and Ibarra were a couple, and couples shared one room. And couples usually would get two keys. One for each person. That meant that Reacher was holding one of two keys to the room that Ibarra was currently moving to. This kept the rednecks in place. They thought the key in Reacher's hand granted access to the room. If they wanted to get to her, all they had to do was take the key from him. In reality, Reacher held a key to the room next door, his room, making it useless against her door. They would have much more success using a crowbar on her door than his key, and even then, they still wouldn't get in. Motels had stepped up their security expenditures in recent years, building their doors out of reinforced steel and aluminum, making them withstand more forms of breaking and entering. They would need a battering ram to get into that room. The rooms were windowless too, which meant breaking some glass wasn't an option. Reacher found all the extra security measures to be unnecessary however, as he had no intention of letting these thugs get that far.

The eight men plus Reacher all heard the door open and close above them, then Reacher spoke. He didn't wait for them to talk first, he wanted to set the pace.

"I'll use small words, so you don't miss anything, but I'm pretty sure you all know what this is."

Reacher raised his key out in front of him and showed it to the thugs before putting it back in his pocket.

"If you want it, come take it. But this is your one warning. The first one to come try is going to end up breathing through a tube for the next six months. It's not too late to walk away."

Reacher had already made the first move. By telling them that, he had subconsciously planted the idea in their heads that they should attack one at a time. It would only work with the first guy though, after which they would realize that there was nothing keeping them from attacking all at once. By then, it would be seven on one instead of eight on one, and Reacher liked those odds far better.

One of the rednecks in the center of the arc stepped forward. Reacher pegged him as the leader. He stood almost as tall as Reacher, but most of his weight was in the barrel-sized gut that was barely contained under a hunting jacket. He sauntered forward a few steps, his hands in his pockets. Reacher stepped forward to meet him.

He remembered back to his time at West Point. At the time, he had known a drill sergeant that had ingrained in Reacher that facing an opponent with your hands in your pockets was the worst mistake you could make in a fight. Reacher agreed.

In a burst of movement, Reacher pushed off his rear foot and headbutted the guy. He used his forehead, the most armored part of his body, and landed the blow square on the bridge of the guy's nose. There was a crunching noise, and the guy went down like a sack of potatoes. He fell still on his side, blood oozing from his nose. He didn't move, and his hands were still in his pockets.

Reacher didn't wait for his buddies to react. He immediately turned and launched his elbow straight into the next guy in line. The joint smashed against the side of his face, and he fell down as Reacher twirled and buried the same elbow into another guy's midsection. The thug doubled over, and Reacher grasped the back of his head and brought his knee up hard into the guy's face before shoving him away.

He whirled around to face the other five, and he immediately danced backward as one of them slashed at him with a knife. Reacher had not seen the knives appear, but now the remaining five guys stood in a loose formation, each one holding a switchblade. Neat wooden handles, plating binding, and plated buttons. Not an attractive sight to see in your opponent's hands.

Reacher hated knives. They were his most feared weapon in close-quarters combat. A small nimble guy with a knife scared Reacher more than a hulk with a gun. It was a whole different ball game than a fist fight.

Blows with hands left bumps and bruises that could easily be ignored in a fight, but knives left holes that bled and severed ligaments and arteries.

Not good.

Reacher danced away. The first rule of fighting against a knife was keeping your distance. The blade couldn't cut what it couldn't reach.

Reacher then shrugged off his coat as the remaining five stayed at the edge of his reach.

The second rule was to entangle your opponent. It was best to use a net or a coat or a blanket. The knife would catch on the fabric. Reacher only had one coat, and there was no way he could entangle all five of them with just that.

Reacher was suddenly wrenched backward by an unseen force, and he stumbled and floundered backward to regain his balance. When he looked up again, he saw a figure now standing between him and the remaining thugs.

Reacher immediately recognized the figure as the armored stranger from the bookshop. The same telltale suit of armor was unmistakable, even in the darkening ambience.

The thugs seemed confused at the sight for a moment, then one of them shook his head and stabbed at the stranger, who caught his hand before it reached him.

There multiple cracking sounds as the stranger crushed the thug's hand in his own. The thug cried out and fell to his knees dropping the knife. The stranger kicked him over and caught the knife before it hit the ground. Standing up, he threw the knife straight into the shoulder of the next thug in line, burying it to the hilt in the soft meaty flesh. The guy cried out like his friend had, but the stranger immediately silenced him with a punch to the sternum.

The stranger was strong. Stronger than Reacher even, which was saying something. The thug who had been punched flew back a few feet before writhing on the ground, gasping for breath. It was a fantastic display of strength, and yet, Reacher felt like the stranger was holding back somehow.

The stranger then focused on the three remaining thugs, who instinctively took a step back. One of them turned and ran back to the trucks, leaving the odds at two on two. Reacher was more than comfortable with that. He moved in, throwing his jacket over one of the remaining thugs. The fabric caught on the knife, and the thug found his movement severely restricted as he attempted to free himself. Reacher followed up with a straight uppercut to the thug's chin. The force of the blow lifted the thug off his feet, and Reacher immediately turned to see the stranger deliver a solid punch to the ribs, which cracked and most likely broke. Leaving the redneck curled up on the ground clutching his midsection.

Reacher and the stranger both turned to the sound of a truck engine starting. The last one was attempting to get away. The truck slammed into gear and roared forward. No, it wasn't trying to get away, it was attempting to run them over.

Reacher immediately dove left as the truck surged toward them, but the stranger stood his ground. The truck accelerated hard and struck the stranger at about thirty miles an hour. The stranger skidded back a few feet with the truck, but then to Reacher's surprise, he planted his feet and pushed, stopping the truck in its tracks. The wheels spun but caught no traction. They squealed against the pavement, kicking up white smoke as the stranger held it at bay. Then with a heave, the stranger threw the front of the truck into the air.

The truck flipped over backward and landed on its top with a loud grinding of metal, balancing on the cab. The wheels now spun uselessly in the air. Reacher continued to watch as the stranger stomped around to the driver's side and punched through the glass of the window with an armored fist. He pulled out the still conscious redneck that had been driven and slammed his head against the side of the truck. The thug went limp and fell to the ground.

Reacher said nothing as the stranger strode over to him and stood there. For a long pause, neither of them said a word. Then the old guy inside the office came out, most likely hearing the ruckus that the truck had made. He surveyed the scene, then strode over to the two of them. His eyes not believing what he saw.

The stranger pointed to the guy, then gestured to all the wreckage and bodies before pointing at himself.

The guy seemed to get the message.

"I'll tell the police that this was all you, I guess."

The stranger nodded before pointing at Reacher.

"And that he had nothing to do with it," the continued. He shook his head nervously, as though he expected the stranger to attack him at any moment.

The stranger nodded back before looking at Reacher. A long moment of silence fell between them.

The times where Reacher had nothing to say were few and far between, but given what had just happened, Reacher couldn't think of anything to say to the armored man in front of him. Now that he got a good look, Reacher saw that the stranger was not actually all that large. He stood at about four inches below Reacher, making him the height of about 6' 1''. The armor added to his bulk, but Reacher could still see that he was muscular under the suit. The Reacher realized that he stranger was waiting for him to do something. So, he held out his hand.

"Thank you."

The stranger nodded and shook Reacher's outstretched hand with his own. The armor felt cold and hard in his grip, but Reacher felt a surging heat beneath the plating. It radiated from the stranger's very essence.

The stranger let go and took a few steps back before giving Reacher a thumbs-up signal with its right hand.

There was a flash of blue light and a loud bang, and the stranger was gone.

Reacher turned and surveyed the wreckage around him. The checked the vitals of each of the thugs. They were all still alive, but some had thread pulses and rapid breathing. They were in need of medical care.

"Call an ambulance," Reacher said, turning to the desk guy. "Some of these guys need attention."

"What the hell should I tell them?" the guy asked with an exasperated chuckle.

"Tell them that the rednecks all got drunk and got into a fight. Eventually the situation escalated, and knives came out. That happens all the time. Make up something about an old girlfriend or a property line. These guys probably have plenty of those."

"And the truck?"

"The one that won the fight tried to run but rolled the truck trying to leave in a hurry."

"There's no tracks indicating a roll, they'll never believe that."

"They'll have to. What's the alternative? Some armored stranger flipped the truck over by hand?"

The guy fell silent for a moment, then nodded before turning on his heel and jogging back to the office. He had some phone calls to make.

Reacher looked at the scene one more time, then looked up to see Ibarra standing at the railing three floors up. She was watching him.

Reacher walked over and untangled his jacket from the thug he had thrown it at. The jacket now had a gaping hole where the knife had torn through. He would need to buy another one. Not tomorrow though, tomorrow was Christmas. There were no shops open. He took the stairs to the top and came out by their rooms. Ibarra strode over to him.

"Are you alright?" she asked worriedly.

"Never better," he replied.

"I saw all of it."

"All of it?"

"All of it."

"And?"

"I've never believed in Christmas miracles, but maybe I should. Or maybe I should get my eyes checked."

"It's certainly stranger than a sleigh and eight tiny reindeer."

"Are the cops coming?"

Reacher nodded. "They are going to ask questions."

"Well, neither of us saw anything right? We were too busy celebrating Christmas," Ibarra said, pulling Reacher by his arm into her room.

Reacher smiled and let the door close behind him.

Chapter 13: Fallout

Notes:

A/N: Huzzah! Tis I, back with another installment in my happy little series. This time, our favorite Doom Slayer finds himself in the dangerous post-apocalyptic world of "Fallout". And our hero is finna drop some bombs! Remember, yours truly owns absolutely nothing.

Proctor Ingram looked down from the vertibird as they began their descent. As far as first impressions went, there didn't seem to be anything extraordinary about their destination. All that stood here was what appeared to be an old shipping outpost. Or at least, that's what it had been before the bombs dropped. Shipping containers lay in a haphazard formation around the small building, which Ingram guessed must have been the administration office once upon a time. All in all, it was nothing she hadn't seen before.

So why had her sensors in this area lit up like a Christmas tree a few minutes ago?

The scanners themselves had been a joint operation between Ingram and Senior Scribe Neriah. Neriah's studies into the Commonwealth's ecosystem had delved further than she had originally planned for, and that meant she needed to collect more data on the environment to further her studies. She had brought her ideas for placing sensors around the landscape to Ingram, and next thing they knew, Elder Maxon had approved their idea. Ingram herself had been toying with the thought of deploying some external sensors around the Prydwen as sort of an early warning system, so the Brotherhood of Steel's interests were definitely being served.

Elder Maxon had only one condition: All sensory equipment could only be installed within visual range of the Prydwen. Any attempts to set them up farther than that would stretch their resources too thin.

At first, Neriah had been annoyed at the range limit, but she soon realized just how wide the Prydwen's view extended, and her mood improved.

After erecting the sensors, there had originally been nothing out of the ordinary on the readouts. The scanners took information on the climate, the rad levels, and the life signs of any nearby flora and fauna, and for the first few months there had been nothing unusual.

That had changed as of half an hour ago. Ingram had been in the power armor bay when Neriah had burst onto the deck, excited and out of breath. The two of them had rushed back to the terminal that had been hooked up remotely to their sensors, and to their astonishment, there had been a massive fluctuation in…well…nearly everything. That is, before they went dead shortly after.

The temperature had suddenly exceeded 100˚ Celsius, which had been enough to boil off any moisture that had been in the air, so the humidity had flatlined.

Similar to the climate readouts, the rad levels were bizarre. Usually the rads sat at a pretty standard low value. The level usually expected of the Commonwealth. But now, the readings had dropped completely to zero. No rads whatsoever. That was completely unheard of, as nothing in the wasteland was completely without rads. Even the vaults had a small amount of residual radiation within them.

None of that had been as puzzling as the bio-readings though. Before the scanners died, they had picked up a single life sign. The readings depicted something extraordinary. It read as human, but it was as though it had been amplified several times over. Pulse readouts, heartbeat, neurological activity…everything was to the extreme. It defied logic.

Less than ten minutes after picking up the readings, Ingram and Neriah were both on a vertibird, en route to the site with a squad of ten Knights in power armor, ready for anything.

Ingram squinted as the vertibird kicked up dust and debris as it touched down on solid ground. Neriah yelled something from next to her, but Ingram couldn't pick it up over the roar of the engines. She motioned to her ear and shook her head, and Neriah nodded once before hopping down onto solid ground. Ingram and the Knights followed suit.

Ingram felt the reverberations through her suit. When on missions, she attached armored sections to her usual power armor frame. It made it heavier than what she was used to, but the extra protection was worth it.

Once the team was clear from the vertibird, the engines whirred back up and it took to the skies. One of the knights had stayed behind to man the door gunner position in case the ground team needed support. Ingram watched as they climbed a bit higher into the sky, then turned her attention to the scanner nearby. Neriah was already examining it.

At first glance, it looked as though something had taken a large bite out of the machinery carving a massive, yet shallow crescent from the side. The rest of the sensory equipment was mostly intact, so only one side of the machinery had been damaged. Initially, Ingram had a haunting vision of a massive beast chomping out the side of their sensors.

Neriah seemed to pick up on her thoughts.

"This wasn't something organic," she said, gesturing to the missing metal.

Upon closer inspection, Ingram saw that she was correct. Teeth would have ripped and torn the casing, yet the gouge looked as though it had been done with a blowtorch. This confused Ingram, as this meant that something intelligent had tampered with their scanners. But even with all that narrowed down, it didn't explain the unorthodox gouge in their equipment. Why not just unscrew the panels for easier access? If they had a blowtorch as their disposal, certainly they had a screwdriver. It also still failed to explain the unusual readings they had recorded. Certainly, something else was lying around that could tell them what was going on here.

A loud explosion came from behind the building, and Ingram was instantly on alert. The Knights heard it too, and the group quickly moved to the source of the noise, Ingram leading the pack. As she rounded the corner, a massive super mutant Behemoth came into view. Not good.

Behemoths were some of the most fearsome beasts the Commonwealth had to offer. They were enormous, standing at least four meters tall, and armed to the teeth with massive boulders to throw at their enemies from a distance. In addition, they also carried a massive club that was the size of at least two humans stacked on top of each other. Not even power armor could stand up to that.

Ingram immediately backed up in the hope that the Behemoth hadn't seen her. The Knights quickly stopped short as well. Ingram motioned for them to be quiet, then peeked around the corner slowly.

The behemoth came into view again, and Ingram frowned as she realized that it was just standing there. It was facing her yet was making no attempt to move. It stood completely still.

Then, to Ingram's surprise, the behemoth fell to its knees, dropping its massive fire-hydrant club to the ground. It then completely fell forward onto its face with a booming thud, falling still once more.

Ingram frowned, then she saw something on its back.

It was a person, or at least Ingram assumed it was a person. The ambiguity came from the fact that the figure was completely covered by a suit of dark green armor. It was far less bulky than the power armor that Ingram was accustomed to, but she still was drawn to the fine craftsmanship and sturdy-looking design of it. The armor itself matched no style or description of any armor Ingram had seen or read about before. It was intricate and extremely well-made, and Ingram briefly considered the possibility of it coming from the Enclave, but she quickly ruled that out too. It didn't match, and there was no way that the Enclave was bold enough to come out here. As she watched, the figure wrenched what appeared to be a chainsaw from the behemoth's corpse, then jumped down onto the ground in front of it. It then checked its surroundings, and its gaze halted right on Ingram. It had seen her in less than a second.

Figuring that stealth was no longer an option, Ingram slowly came around the corner, gesturing for the Knights to follow. Their rifles were raised, which Ingram took comfort in. There was still no telling where this stranger's allegiance lied. Neriah watched from a distance.

Proctor Ingram halted a few meters away from the stranger. The Knights fanned out on either side of her, their laser rifles still trained on the figure in green armor.

"I am Proctor Ingram of the Brotherhood of Steel," Ingram said in an authoritative tone. The figure said nothing.

"Who are you? Identify," Ingram said. The air suddenly became very tense. The figure said nothing still. Its gaze was locked on Ingram through its visor. She couldn't see its face, but she still felt like holes being bored into her skull. The Knights seemed to grow apprehensive.

"Answer her!" another Knight shouted. The figure still remained silent.

"Well then," Ingram said, surprised at how her voice suddenly faltered. "Since we can't confirm your intent, we have no choice but to take you into custody. Knights, hail the vertibird and place…"

A loud shot rang out.

It wasn't until after the fact that Ingram realized that one of the Knights had accidently squeezed the trigger on their rifle and fired a shot at the stranger. But at that moment, all hell broke loose.

The stranger immediately jumped into action. Faster than Ingram thought possible, it ran to the Knight that had fired and threw its armored elbow hard into his midsection, there was a loud crumpling of metal, and the Knight cried out in pain and flew backwards and landed hard in the dirt. Proctor Ingram was stunned. Even in power armor, humans didn't possess that kind of strength. Only one type of being possessed that much power in a relatively small frame.

Coursers.

"Fall back!" She yelled as the Knight struggled to get up. The stranger fell upon him again.

"Get to cover, it's a courser!"

"What!?" another Knight yelled as they regrouped and rounded the shed. "That's impossible!"

Ingram disagreed. Yes, the Institute had been destroyed over a month ago, but reports of synth activity still came from the Commonwealth, despite the destruction of their manufacturing plant. It made sense that a courser still might be out there despite the odds of finding one. Not only that, but this one was armored too. How had she gotten so lucky to run into one of the most dangerous things in the Commonwealth?

As the group ran behind the building for cover, Ingram heard the whirr of the vertibird's engines overhead. The minigun on the side door burst to life, and a hail of bullets rained down on the courser, who quickly jumped away from the Knight lying still on the ground. The Knight's fusion core was in its hand. Ingram had no idea if the Knight was injured or not, but even if he wasn't, he wouldn't have been able to move the power armor without the fusion core.

Ingram was also shocked. Coursers didn't usually bother with disabling power armor since they were more than capable of killing their enemies through it. Something was off about this one.

Her attention quickly turned back to the courser as it pulled out a rocket launcher seemingly from nowhere and mounted it on its shoulder.

"Return fire!" Ingram yelled to the other Knights, who were already firing back at the courser. Unfortunately, the Courser didn't seem to notice, and took aim with the launcher. With a burst of smoke and fire, a rocket burst forth on a path directly toward the vertibird. The warhead exploded against the tail, and the vertibird lurched from the impact. Black smoke billowed from the impact point, and the vertibird made a valiant effort to stabilize itself before quickly losing altitude and crashing hard into the dirt.

…

Elder Maxson saw the vertibird go down from the command deck of the Prydwen. Lancer Captain Kells stood beside him.

"Sir," Kells said. "We have received the distress call from Proctor Ingram. Reports of a new form of courser have been made. I strongly recommend sending reinforcements."

"No," Maxson said. Kells turned to him questioningly.

"I won't risk any more lives on this so-called reinforced courser. Send him in."

"With all due respect, sir," Kells said. "That seems a bit…"

"I'm sure," Maxson said, turning to face Kells. He placed a hand on his shoulder. "A weapon unused is a useless weapon, Captain. And I don't want to put any more lives at stake."

Kells paused for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

"I'll send word immediately."

…

Ingram pulled her head down as dirt and gravel rained down on her. The vertibird had kicked up a massive amount of earth when it had crashed into the ground, momentarily dazing both her and the Brotherhood Knights. As the dust cleared, she slowly peeked over her cover to see the courser running full-tilt toward the downed vertibird, which was currently laying in its side in a crumpled and flaming heap.

Reaching the hull at record-breaking speeds, the courser ripped the side of the vertibird away. The metal screeched and groaned in protest, but the armored synth appeared to have no issue moving the metal aside. Smoke billowed out from the hole the courser made in the vehicle, partially blocking Ingram's view of it. After ripping a gap wide enough to fit through, the courser rushed into the confines of the vertibird's metal hull, and Ingram lost sight of it in the smoke. The actions of the synth confused her. There was nothing of tactical value inside the vertibird, yet the courser had broken off their engagement to pursue something it deemed more important than fighting her and the other Knights.

Ingram decided to take advantage of the courser's momentary deviation to regroup with the other Knights. Quickly taking a head count, Ingram saw that nine of the Knights were still in fighting shape. The one Knight that had the courser had engaged was still laying in the dirt. Ingram squinted and saw his fingers slowly curl, as though he was straining to lift himself off the ground. He was alright, for now.

Ingram turned back to the wreckage of the vertibird to see the courser emerging from the hole it had made not a few moments ago. It was dragging two items behind it, and Ingram recognized them as the pilot and door gunner. They both were unconscious. As with the hull, the Courser appeared to move the two armored humans with little to no difficulty. It dragged them clear of the wreckage and set them down next to the downed Knight before turning again to the building that Ingram, Neriah, and the other Knights were taking cover behind.

Ingram frowned in confusion as the courser began walking over to them. Its gait was non-threatening, but its fists were clenched at its sides, displaying a level of annoyance that Ingram thought was impossible for a synth. Ingram didn't know what to think as the courser drew closer.

"Ma'am? What are your orders?" asked one of the Knights. Ingram could feel their anxiety, as she struggled with her decision. Did she order them to stand down, or continue in their attempt to destroy this synth?

On one hand, the courser had attacked and disabled one of the Knights. It had also shot down a vertibird carrying two Brotherhood personnel. That was definitely classified as hostile activity. On the other hand, it had also saved those two Brotherhood Knights from the burning wreckage of the vertibird. So, in actuality, no one had died yet. That didn't add up.

Ingram's interaction with coursers had been limited, but she had attended a number of briefings on coursers and how to survive contact with one. The first and foremost thing that she had learned was that above all else, coursers were efficient. Efficient at tracking, efficient at hunting, and most unfortunately, efficient at killing. Most reports of engagements with coursers did not last long, considering that either the courser was killed or had killed its opponent in less than five minutes. And yet, this one was vastly different. It had far better armor and far superior weaponry to that of anything they could've seen before, yet this battle had gone on for at least ten minutes and no one was dead. Something wasn't right.

"Orders, ma'am?" the Knight asked again, panic seeping into his tone.

Ingram looked back to the courser to see that it had stopped walking, and now stood exactly halfway between them and the downed vertibird. Its gaze was now focused on something else. Something behind Ingram and the rest of the Knights. She frowned yet again.

Wha-?

A bright light and a massive boom overloaded Ingram's senses. She squeezed her eyes shut against the light and was forced backward a second later by the shockwave. For half a second, her mind struggled to comprehend. Then, it hit her.

The courser had just been nuked. And not by somebody wielding a Fat Man. No, that blast had been much larger than anything a mini nuke could dish out. Ingram could feel the heat on her face to prove it. No, there was only one thing that possessed destructive power of that magnitude…

"COMMUNIST DETECTED ON AMERICAN SOIL. LETHAL FORCE ENGAGED."

Ingram turned to the sound of thundering footfalls behind her. Approaching fast was none other than the Brotherhood of Steel's very own forty-foot-tall, heavily armored trump card.

Liberty Prime had entered the battlefield.

Ingram felt relief wash over her at the sight of the armored juggernaut. With Liberty Prime around, there wasn't much else to be afraid of. That is, if he was on your side.

The giant metal man continued his approach, drawing another nuke from the reserve strapped to his back.

"EMBRACE DEMOCRACY, OR BE ERADICATED."

Ingram's eyes widened and whirled back around. The area that Liberty Prime had initially nuked was reduced to a shallow crater in the dirt. The smoke began to clear, and Ingram's eyes widened as she saw a silhouette begin to emerge from the cloud.

"No way…" One of the Knights said. Ingram agreed. Not even a courser could survive a point-blank impact from a Mark 28 Tactical Nuke.

Ingram involuntarily gulped as she saw the figure step out of the haze. Apart from a bit of dirt and streaks smeared onto its armor. The "courser" appeared to have sustained no damage. And now, it was holding its rocket launcher again.

"Get down!" Ingram screamed to the other Knights as she dove to the ground. Time seemed to slow as Ingram threw her legs out from under her in a frantic race to get to cover. About halfway into her descent, Ingram saw Liberty Prime wind up and throw the warhead at the "courser", who fired its rocket launcher at that exact same moment. A millisecond later, Ingram was thrown the rest of the way to the dirt as the rocket and warhead collided in midair above them. The shockwave from the blast pressed her hard into the dirt, and she squeezed her eyes shut as dirt and metal were kicked up around her.

When she opened them again, she saw Liberty Prime regaining his balance. The front of his chest plate was charred black. The rocket had collided with the warhead shortly after leaving his hand, and therefore, he had taken the brunt of the resulting explosion.

Ingram shifted her attention back to the "courser", and she noticed that its body language had changed. It seemed almost…eager?

…

Elder Maxson watched the fight escalate from the observation deck. The nuke that Prime had thrown had detonated in midair, and the resulting blast had done damage to Prime's armor. As Elder Maxson watched, a series of smaller explosions exploded against Prime's metallic hull. The force was not nearly as powerful as the nuke had been, but the giant metal man was still buffeted by the attacks.

Maxson frowned. He would never show it, but he was worried. Whatever was down there had proven itself to be more than a threat to anything else the Brotherhood had seen before. Certainly, a threat of this caliber couldn't have been due to a single courser, no matter how advanced they were. Brief images of the Enclave appeared in his mind, but Maxson discarded them as an impossibility. The Enclave had been all but eviscerated some years ago. Maxson had seen the destruction himself. No, this was something else. More explosions appeared in the distance, and Maxson quickly reached a decision. Without a second thought, he turned on his heel and strode to the hanger bay.

…

Ingram grit her teeth as another shockwave rattled her bones. Neriah crouched in the dirt behind her, trying her best to hide behind Ingram's Power Armor, but not even Power Armor held up well against the constant barrage from the battle. All things considered, Ingram finally came to the conclusion that this wasn't a courser that they were dealing with. That didn't provide her with any sense of relief, however, as it certainly wasn't human either. The strange…thing had been fighting with Liberty Prime for the past five minutes, and during that time, Prime had used six Mark 28's and fired his optic beam at least ten times. And yet, this metal suit…this force, hadn't sustained even a scratch on its armor. Ingram shook her head in disbelief. This thing was nigh indestructible.

The Brotherhood Knights had managed to move the three downed personnel to a safe position and were currently assessing them for injuries. Upon receiving their report amidst the destruction that rained down around them, Ingram was surprised to learn that none of them had sustained serious injuries, and that they were all currently conscious and cognizant of the situation. At least something was going right.

Despite the stranger taking virtually no damage during the altercation, Liberty Prime had been quite the opposite. Dents and char coated his exoskeleton, and sparks sprouted from numerous spots where his wiring had been exposed.

"WARNING: NUCLEAR WEAPON PAYLOAD DAMAGED. PROBABILITY OF MISSION HINDRANCE: 65 PERCENT."

Ingram's blood ran cold. Glancing to the pack on Prime's back, she saw that the metal had been distorted and warped, clamping the warhead delivery system tight. With the delivery system clamped, there was no way for prime to access his arsenal. Without his nuclear payload, Liberty Prime lost a significant amount of lethality. And as far as she knew, those warheads were the only thing capable of even slowing down this armored adversary, as all Prime's optic beam seemed to do was annoy it.

Her eyes widened as the armored being then pulled out a weapon she had never seen before. At first, it looked as though it was from another planet. The forked design, bright red glow, and whirring parts all reminded her of something out of a science-fiction novel. But as she looked closer, Ingram saw that the weapon was actually akin to some designs she had seen for a rail gun. Although it was impossibly small than was feasible for such a weapon, the parts were all arranged perfectly for magnetic acceleration, and had it not been for the circumstances, Ingram would have been ecstatic to see such a technological marvel.

Unfortunately for her, the wielder of said rail gun choose to fire the weapon at that time, and Ingram flinched as a bright red beam erupted from the forked machine and struck Prime directly on the bulk of his right leg. The blast threw the giant off balance, but the worst damage came as a haunting surprise when Ingram saw the impact point. The magnetically accelerated slug had punched a hole in Prime's leg, which was to be expected. But as Ingram watched Liberty Prime stagger from the impact, the metal around the hole began to wither. It wasn't as though it was melting or rusting. No, it just…decayed. The hole grew wider and wider, and Prime fell onto his right knee as the decaying metal refused to support his massive bulk.

"WARNING: HULL INTEGRITY COMPROMISED. MOBILITY REDUCED BY 75 PERCENT."

Ingram should have felt a sense of dread at the sight Liberty Prime being slowly destroyed by an enemy they knew nothing about, but instead she felt a stab of confusion. The stranger wielding the railgun obviously knew of its destructive capabilities, as it showed no surprised reaction to the decaying metal on Prime's leg. So why hadn't it gone for the head?

The creature could have made that shot with no issue form what Ingram had seen. Every time it aimed, it hit its mark. Hell, it had shot a damn nuke out of the air with a damn rocket launcher. Hitting Prime in the head should've been as easy as hitting the broad side of a barn after a feat like that.

On top of that, the stranger had used non-lethal force on the Brotherhood Knights. Sure, it had shot down a vertibird, but it had then pulled the pilot and the door gunner from the wreckage immediately after. With a start, Ingram realized that this strange being wasn't trying to kill them. In fact, it had only ever acted in self-defense since they had first come into contact with it.

"DEFEAT IS NOT AN OPTION."

Liberty Prime had raised his head to look at the stranger, and Ingram saw his optic beam charging for another attack. The figure raised its railgun again threateningly. It's red glow and slow whirring added to its ominous presence.

"Wait! Liberty Prime, stand down!" Ingram yelled as loud as she could.

The was a brief moment of pause.

"ACKNOWLEDGED."

Ingram breathed a sigh of relief as the giant iron patriot ceased his assault and waited in an immobile state. He was still down on one knee.

The stranger watched Liberty Prime for a moment before turning its attention to Ingram again. It lowered its rail gun.

"Knights stand down as well!" Ingram barked as she stood up from her cover, Neriah rising uncertainly behind her.

"Ingram? What are you doing?" she whispered warily, as the two of them strode towards the stranger.

"It's not trying to kill us, or it would have by now," Ingram said back. "I think we can reason with it."

Neriah seemed hesitant, but she nodded and followed Ingram's lead.

The two of them stopped when they stood about ten feet from the figure. All around them, the shipping outpost had been reduced to nothing more than craters and mangled shipping containers. At one point during the battle, the figure had picked up a container with its massive strength and had hurled it at Liberty Prime. It and numerous others now lay scattered like leaves.

Seeing the figure up close again, Ingram had reason to chuckle. Despite its destructive capabilities, it only stood at a little over six feet tall. Ingram had to look down to make eye contact. Well, visor contact. She didn't even know if this thing had eyes.

Its railgun was still lowered, so Ingram took that as a good sign. So she tried talking to it.

"From what we've seen here, you aren't a courser, and you aren't from the Institute."

The figure tilted its head in a sarcastic manner. The gesture seemed to say: 'No shit.'

"But given what you've demonstrated here, you certainly aren't human," Ingram said, gesturing to the destruction around them.

The figure glanced once at Liberty Prime and the ruined shipping containers, then shrugged.

"I suppose it doesn't matter what you are, in the end. Even though- "

Ingram was cut off by a distant rumbling. Initially, she frowned at the noise. Then one of the Knights clambered up a nearby hill and yelled down.

"Proctor Ingram! Feral ghouls approaching, fast! There…there's hundreds of them!"

Damn it. Ingram cursed herself for not considering the ghouls sooner. It was well-known that feral ghouls were often attracted by loud noises, explosions, and all other kinds of commotion. And the battle between Liberty Prime and the stranger had been the loudest thing to occur in the Commonwealth since blowing up the Institute.

Ingram assessed the situation, which looked about as bleak as it could get. It would be her, Neriah, Liberty Prime, and the Knights against the largest horde of ghouls they had ever seen. The Knights had managed to get their tenth member out of his power armor, but one extra hand didn't help all that much against hundreds of ghouls.

Even if they had the help of this stranger, Ingram doubted that they'd survive the onslaught. There was little higher ground position on, and they couldn't run away or call in a vertibird in time to come get them. On top of that, they hadn't brought enough ammunition to fight these ghouls, and eventually, they'd be overrun. It was the end of the line.

Ingram sighed and turned to the figure. She didn't know how, but she knew that it was coming to the same conclusion.

"With or without your help, we can't fight them all. I know we don't deserve to ask, but if we can eliminate more ghouls now, the less there will be later."

The figure stared at her for a second, then glanced up to Liberty Prime. It seemed to be considering something. After a few more moments, the figure put the rail gun away and walked over to Liberty Prime. Without hesitation, it began climbing up Prime's massive leg.

"UNIDENTIFIED PERSONNEL DETECTED. RECOMMEND USE OF LETHAL FORCE."

"Negative, Liberty Prime," Ingram said. "Personnel identified as friendly."

"ACKNOWLEDGED. PERSONNEL NOW CLASSIFIED: ALLY TO FREEDOM."

The figure had worked its way onto Liberty Prime's back and was now examining the damaged nuclear payload system.

"What's it doing?" Neriah asked, frowning. Ingram watched it closely.

"I think—I think it's trying to fix him," Ingram said.

Her theory was soon proven true as the figure pulled and molded the metal back into its original position. With the same strength it had used to tear open the vertibird, it moved the metal back into shape with a loud grinding.

When it had finished, it jumped back down to the ground before turning and nodding to Ingram.

"Liberty Prime," she called out. "Run systems test."

"SYSTEM DIAGNOSTICS: INITIALIZED."

Liberty Prime then attempted to stand, balancing his weight on his minimally damaged foot while keeping less pressure on the decayed one. Looking closer, Ingram saw that the rail gun round had eaten through about a quarter of the bulk of his leg, making it weaker to be sure, but not unusable.

"RIGHT LEG INTEGRITY COMPROMISED. WEIGHT DISTRIBUTION: 75 PERCENT RIGHT; 25 PERCENT LEFT."

Liberty Prime then reached behind his back. When he brought his hand forward, there was a Mark 28 Tactical Nuclear Warhead in his hand.

"NUCLEAR PAYLOAD SYSTEM REPAIRED. PROBABILITY OF RED CHINEASE VICTORY: IMPOSSIBLE."

Ingram cracked a smile. At least someone had a chance to make it home today. Looking over to the squad of Knights, she tried to think of something to say to boost their morale in the face of death. But nothing came to mind. For some reason, the weight of their doom bearing down on them had left her with nothing to say to comfort them. She was still trying to think of something when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

It was the stranger. With its head, it gestured to one of the shipping containers that had been minimally damaged during the fight, and Ingram was confused at first at what it was trying to say, but then she realized what it wanted.

It wanted her to get inside the container.

It could work. All of them except Prime could fit inside of the container. If they were lucky, the ghouls wouldn't discover where they were. They could wait it out until help arrived. It wasn't much, but it was their only chance.

"Knights! Gather the injured and get into the container!" Ingram shouted, pointing to the giant metal box.

The thought of living to see another day roused the Brotherhood soldiers, and they quickly sprang into action and began moving into the container. Ingram directed them inside, and soon, everyone was packed into the container. It was cramped, but it was preferable to death.

Ingram and the stranger stood at the entrance, and Ingram quickly realized the problem. Someone had to close the doors to the container from the outside. Someone had to remain.

She figured it out a millisecond before she was roughly pushed forward into the container. The doors slammed shut behind her, and there was a metallic clang as the crossbar fell into place. They were sealed inside.

"Damn it!" Ingram yelled as she slammed her armored fist against the door of the container. Even though they had tried to kill this stranger not half an hour ago, it was now going to sacrifice itself to save them. That left a foul taste in Ingram's mouth. She had joined up with the brotherhood to make the world a better place, and that meant saving people. And now THEY were the ones needing saved. Ingram hated it.

The container fell silent as the rumbling outside grew louder. Ingram tried to pick out individual noises from the ambience, but it soon became difficult to hear anything as the rumbling grew louder and louder.

"COMMUNIST FORCES DETECTED. ERADICATION SUBROUTINES INITIALIZED."

Liberty Prime's voice boomed from outside, and a few of the Knights whispered, "Ad Victorium." Prime always had a way with words.

Then, the explosions and gunfire began. Soon, nothing couldd be heard over the screams and yowls of ghouls mixed with nuclear explosions and weapons fire.

"GLORY IS THE REWARD OF VALOR."

The sounds of carnage continued to penetrate the walls of the container, rising to a deafening pitch as ghouls swarmed in droves. Only occasionally could they hear Liberty Prime, and everyone in the container waited anxiously for the next time they could hear his voice. As long as he was alive, there was still hope.

"AMERICA WILL NEVER FALL TO COMMUNISM. THE RED MENACE WILL BE ANNIHILATED."

The fighting continued for at least a few minutes more before the noise began to decline. Slowly but surely, the number of ghouls began to dwindle. Soon, all fell silent outside the container. Then, Liberty Prime's voice boomed.

"RED CHINEASE FORCES: ELIMINATED. DEMOCRACY REIGNS SUPREME."

Shouts of "Ad Victorium" and cheering filled the container. Ingram heard the crossbar lift from outside, then the doors opened, and light spilled into the container.

Framed against the light of day stood the stranger. Ingram couldn't see its face, but she was certain that it was smirking behind the visor. The Knights cheered and raised their rifles in salute to their armored savior.

The figure stepped back and everyone stepped back out into the Commonwealth.

Ingram couldn't believe her eyes when she saw the carnage. There were so many bodies.

Hundreds of bodies.

So many bodies littered the ground that the dirt was completely covered in some areas. There were piles of ghouls stacked twice as high as Ingram was tall. Liberty Prime stood nearby.

"Dear God," Neriah whispered next to her.

Ingram agreed. In addition to all the bodies, numerous other shipping containers had been destroyed. The administration building also sat in ruin.

"This is the one," she said to Neriah pointing to the stranger, who turned to them in response.

"You are the one that our scanners picked up. The one without any rads. You're not even from this planet, are you?"

The stranger nodded.

Ingram lowered her hand. She needed time to process the events that had just occurred.

Her attention was quickly diverted again as a vertibird approached from the distance. Within minutes, the helicopter touched down, and none other than Elder Maxson stepped out onto the ground. He strode over to the group.

"Proctor Ingram, I'm glad to see that you're all still in one piece. Is everyone alright?"

"We're all green, Elder Maxson," Ingram responded. "Thanks to our new friend here."

Elder Maxson turned to the stranger, and the two stared at each other for a few moments. Then Maxson held out his hand.

"You have my thanks for looking after my people," he said. "I've never seen the make of your armor before."

"We believe that it is from another planet, sir," Ingram said. "It can't talk but appears to understand English."

Maxson nodded and was about to say more before a loud noise came from behind one of the piles of ghouls.

The Knights instantly held their rifles at the ready.

"Who's there?" Maxson demanded. "Show yourself!" He had drawn his pistol from its holster, and had it trained on the pile of bodies.

Nothing happened for a few moments, then a lone synth stepped out from behind the pile. The synth was dressed in a long and faded trench coat along with a worn and beaten fedora. He looked something like a private eye. Ingram recognized him immediately. It was Nick Valentine, the resident detective of Diamond City.

"Elder Maxson," Valentine said, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "Looking xenophobic as usual."

"You're a long way from Diamond City, synth," Maxson said back. He spat out the word "synth."

"Hard not to be out here with all that noise you guys are making out here," Valentine replied. "From the looks of it, you've been busy."

Valentine stepped around the body of a dead ghoul. Ingram stood still, but the rest of the Knights still had their rifles trained on him.

"Diamond City may tolerate abominations like you, but we see the truth. And now, you've reached the end of the line," Maxson said. His voice was dripping with contempt.

"Knights, fi—"

The stranger stepped out in front of Nick, standing between the laser rifles trained on the synth and Nick himself.

"Stand aside," Elder Maxson ordered. "This does not concern you."

The stranger tilted its head down slightly, making it seem even more intimidating, which Ingram didn't even think was possible.

"You want to risk your life for a synth?" Maxson asked. "You will both die."

"Sir," Ingram said in a low tone. "With all due respect, it saved us from—"

"If it chooses to align with a synth, then it is an enemy of the Brotherhood," Maxson said forcefully.

"This is the one that nearly destroyed Liberty Prime," Ingram persisted. "We can't win this, sir."

Maxson grit his teeth but didn't put down his pistol.

"Listen well, Valentine!" he spat through gritted teeth. "If you are ever seen again by any Brotherhood forces, you will be fired upon immediately. Now, I would suggest you get out of my sight, before I change my mind."

"Ah, so merciful. Many thanks, oh wise elder," Valentine said, before addressing the stranger.

"I appreciate you having my back, there. If you're ever in Diamond City, look me up."

The stranger nodded once to Valentine.

"Well, I better get lost before the Elder blows a gasket," Valentine said. The synth then turned on his heel and walked away. Elder Maxson stared the stranger down. The stranger stared back.

The moment suddenly grew uncomfortably tense. Insanely so. Finally, Elder Maxson spoke.

"The mission of the Brotherhood of Steel is to protect humanity," he spoke slowly, trying to restrain his anger. "Synths propose an unarguable threat to the future of the human race, and therefore must be eliminated."

The figure said nothing.

"And if your interests do not align with ours, then it would be best if we choose not to associate. You saved the lives of my soldiers, and I was indebted to you for that, but consider us even now," he said, gesturing to the profile of Nick Valentine as he disappeared over the horizon.

The stranger took one last look to make sure Valentine was far enough away, then glared at Maxson for a few moments more. Finally, Ingram saw movement in its right hand and a bright blue light engulfed it followed by a loud bang. Ingram blinked her eyes rapidly to clear her vision, and when she looked again, the stranger was gone.

Elder Maxson took a deep breath, then addressed Ingram.

"Get the wounded on board the vertibird, I'll expect your report back on the Prydwen."

Ingram nodded once then turned to take charge of the squad. She was eager to get back to the Prydwen and to some semblance of normalcy. Today had gone on long enough.

Notes:

A/N: Boom! Another chapter in the books! I must take this time to apologize for leaving my readers handing for so long between chapters, but I must insist that it was not my intention to do so. For some reason, writer's block hit me with a 10-foot-long pole and refused to stop. Hopefully I can get over that now and keep writing! Always remember to drop a review to keep me posted on how well/terrible the story is going. Until next time!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 14: Pacific Rim

Notes:

A/N: Hell yeah! It's go time baby! Welcome to a brand new installment in the story. This time, our Doom Slayer is about to get colossal! By that, I mean he is about to find himself in the Pacific Rim franchise. Doom Slayer, giant robots, giant monsters, I think we all know where this is going. Enjoy! Remember I own non of this stuff!

23 March 2020, 1300 hours, Los Angeles Shatterdome, Pacific Coastline

Marshall Stacker Pentecost stood up straight with his hands behind his back. Such a posture was becoming of an individual who held a leadership position, and Stacker knew he had to set a clear example for those beneath him.

Currently, Stacker stood in the Local Command Center, codenamed LOCCENT, of the Los Angeles Shatterdome, one of the nine beating hearts of the Program. The massive facility existed just outside the city, giving it easy access to the coastline. Since K-day, this facility, as well as eight others served as a catalyst for the deployment of mankind's most advanced weapon yet. Jaegers, their pièce de résistance in the war against the giant monsters of the breach. Stacker thought back to the first time mankind had encountered its greatest foe in 2013.

Had it really been seven years since then?

Stacker had been in the Royal Air Force back then and had been virtually as far from ground zero as possible, but the dread that these monsters imparted had been felt by every human around the globe. Everyone lost something that day. Whether it was the mirage of human superiority on the food chain, the comfortable sense of peace, or the ones you held dear…

Stacker shook his head to dismiss his thoughts and berated himself internally. He was chasing the R.A.B.I.T. That was a huge no-no. Had he had still been a pilot, that would have been enough to ground him for a solid while, but as a high-ranking officer of the most expensive program in existence, it meant the survival of humanity. Stacker took a deep breath and brought his mind back from the past into the L.A. Shatterdome.

This Shatterdome in particular was of interest to Stacker. Of the nine stationed on the Pacific coastlines of the world, there were only three located on the Eastern coastline. The Pan Pacific Defense Corps' reasoning for an imbalanced placement stemmed from the massive population difference on the two coasts. The population of North America stood at around six-hundred million people, while Asia's was at least six times that number.

Apart from L.A., the other two Shatterdomes were located in Anchorage, Alaska and Panama City, Panama. That was cause for concern for Stacker, as that stretched the L.A. Shatterdome's reach pretty thin. Over eleven thosand kilometers of coastline was under their jurisdiction, which left little room for mistakes. If Stacker had his way, there would be at least two additional Shatterdomes put into place on both sides of the ocean, but this was the Jaeger Program, and an expansion like that did not come cheap. So here they were.

Today, Stacker felt rather emotionally drained. It had been less than a month since he had lost his star Jaeger team. Yancy and Raleigh Becket had been the cream of the crop, smashing records left and right ever since they had first entered the Jaeger academy. Both had scored in the top of their class and had shown incredible promise in the simulations. In action, they had proved to be even better, as they alone had been responsible for putting down a majority of the Kaiju that had emerged from the breach since their graduation.

All that had quickly come to an end when Yancy was killed in the line of duty. A Kaiju battle. Stacker had been at the Anchorage Shatterdome when it had happened. Even the thought of the event gave him chills.

After Yancy's death, Raleigh had left the Jaeger program, and Stacker couldn't blame him. He had been drifting with Yancy when he died, and he had witnessed his brother's death as if it was his own. That alone would've driven most men insane. To see someone die was hard enough, but to FEEL it in their mind…

Stacker could think of no worse burden to bear.

Stacker was once again jolted from his thoughts as the piercing shrill of an alarm sounded throughout the compound.

"Sir!" The Operations Officer shouted from his console at the front of LOCCENT. "Activity in the breach detected!"

Stacker strode up to the console as the Ops continued.

"It's a category-lll!" he said as a holographic projection of the beast appeared in front of them.

"Codename: Sheargrip!"

That was a rather fitting name for this Kaiju. As Stacker studied the projection of the creature, he saw that in addition to the standard hunched-over dinosaur look that most Kaiju had, this one had scissor-like claws instead of fingers at the end of its primary arms. Long and powerful, Stacker had no doubt that those things could take the arm clean off from a Jaeger if they wanted to.

"Size?" Stacker asked the Ops.

"Approximately ninety-five meters tall and 2,650 tons, sir!"

"Christ…" Stacker cursed under his breath. This Kaiju was massive. It now was the second largest Kaiju they had seen so far, and according to the trend, they were going to keep getting bigger.

"Where's it headed?"

"Sir, it'll be in Seattle within two hours."

Stacker shook his head and accessed the facility-wide intercom.

"All personnel! A Category-lll Kaiju just emerged from the Breach! It's target: Seattle. We have less than two hours until it gets there! Romeo Blue, intercept and neutralize the hostile. Mammoth Apostle, standby for reinforcement if necessary! Evacuate the city, shutdown all major roadways, and get every civilian to safety!"

At once, the Shatterdome kicked into overdrive. Technicians and pilots alike ran this way and that to report to their stations. A Kaiju had emerged, and it was once again time to fight for humanity's future.

Behind him, Stacker heard the doors to the control room open. He turned to see Mako Mori rushing in.

Stacker always felt a touch of pride when he saw Mako. At seventeen years old, she was already showing signs of extreme brilliance. Stacker knew that she would be amazing at whatever she put her mind to. Unfortunately for him, she wanted to be a Jaeger pilot.

It was a constant conflict inside Stacker's mind as to Mako becoming a pilot. On one hand, Stacker would never let her place herself in harm's way like that, he doubted he could bear the stress. On the other hand, should Mako make it into the program (with her current grades, she would in a heartbeat) Stacker knew that she would probably become the best damn Jaeger pilot on the face of the Earth. Of that he had no doubt.

"Mako," Stacker began speaking in Japanese. "What are you doing here?"

"I want to see the Kaiju, and I want to see Romeo Blue in action. I've only ever read battle reports of this Jaeger before," she responded.

"Mako…"

"I won't make any trouble, plus I want to study how a heavier Jaeger fights."

Stacker was silent for a moment, then nodded once to Mako, who smiled and took her position at his side.

…

Less than half an hour later, Stacker watched from LOCCENT as the Jaeger, Romeo Blue, was hoisted out of the Shatterdome by a squadron of twelve super-charged helicopters. Normally, only eight choppers would be needed to carry the weight of a Jaeger, but Romeo Blue was an exception, as it was second only to Horizon Brave as the heaviest Jaeger on the planet. Weighing in at 7,775 tons, the massive death machine weighed almost three hundred tons more than Tacit Ronin, which was in third place. The extra weight was mostly in part due to the extra armor that had been implemented in Romeo's structure. Every joint, limb, and weapon had been reinforced with the hardest alloys known to man, making it ideal against a Kaiju that had pincers for hands. Stacker tried not to show it, but he was just as interested in watching the battle as Mako.

Piloting the Jaeger were the Gage twins, Bruce and Trevin. Both were outstanding pilots and had known considerable success piloting the almost unwieldy Jaeger. 7,775 tons didn't move around easily, but the Gage twins worked seamlessly to achieve victory with every Kaiju they clashed with. They were the best that Stacker could ask for.

"LOCCENT," came Trevin's voice from the transmitter on the console. "This is Romeo Blue, testing connection from the conn-pod, do you read?"

"Loud and clear, Romeo Blue," the Ops responded from his position at the console. "All systems are green, neural bridge is stable, you are ready for action."

"Copy that, LOCCENT. Let's hope the Kaiju is in the mood to tango."

Stacker leaned down to the transmitter.

"Romeo Blue, this is Pentecost. Be advised, this Kaiju has pincers attached to the end of its primary arms. Don't let it catch hold of you. If that monster gets inside the miracle mile, the damages could be devastating."

"Noted, sir," came Bruce's voice over the static. "Although, I very much doubt it'll wanna grab onto us after we knock a couple fillings loose."

Stacker inwardly smirked. Mako smiled next to him. Although Romeo Blue was slowed down by its immense bulk, it made up for it by using that bulk to batter its opponent into submission. When a blow from the Jaeger landed, it landed hard. Stacker recalled when Romeo Blue had fought the Kaiju, Hardship. It had killed it by using a piece of a bridge as a club. Reports showed that the finishing blow had not only cracked the Kaiju's skull, but had also shattered at least three vertebrae at the base of the neck.

In short, the Jaeger packed a punch.

Stacker hoped that it would be enough.

"LOCCENT, we have visual on the Kaiju. It's already made landfall."

Not good.

Stacker immediately turned his attention to the viewing screens located above him. Both the Jaeger and the helicopters were equipped with video cameras to give a visual and record for later study. Stacker watched as the Kaiju, Sheargrip, came into view. It was waiting for them.

Every time Stacker saw one of those monstrosities, his stomach dropped. He despised that reaction, even though it was only natural when staring at a colossal doomsday monster.

It's hide was a dark gray, accentuating its piercing blue eyes that stared with malicious intent at the Jaeger that was approaching it. Stacker saw it flex its pincers a few times in anticipation.

Thankfully, the Kaiju had not reached the city yet. If Romeo Blue could dispose of it not, casualties could be minimized.

Trevin's voice came through.

"Romeo Blue reaching the target zone! Disengaging transport!"

The massive Jaeger then fell from its restraints, landing hard on the Earth beneath it.

"Engaging!"

The hulking metal behemoth then stood up and charged at the Kaiju, which ran forward in return.

Romeo Blue drew its arm back as it ran, then jumped at the last minute and slammed its fist down hard on the beast's head as they met. The Kaiju roared in pain and stumbled hard under the Jaeger's crushing blow. Stacker glanced over to Mako and saw that she was watching intently.

Romeo followed up by catching Sheargrip under its jaw with an uppercut as it stumbled down. The monster's head snapped backward, and the force of the blow caused it to stagger backward as well.

"Yeah! Eat it, ugly!" came Bruce's voice from the conn-pod.

"Sir!" The Ops cried out. "I'm reading some sort of anomaly near the combat zone!"

Stacker immediately turned to the Ops. "What do you mean anomaly?"

"Sir, it's…it's like a miniature breach! Its energy signature matches closely with interdimensional waves that are emitted when the breach opens. Only now, it's smaller, barely even human-sized!"

"Ignore it," Stacker said. "The equipment may be faulty."

The Ops seemed hesitant but nodded once and returned to the console.

Stacker turned his attention to the screens. At the very corner, Stacker thought he saw a flash of blue appear for a moment, but he dismissed it as a trick of the light.

"You saw it too," Mako said next to him.

"Faulty equipment, Mako," Stacker said. "We must focus on the task at hand."

Mako bowed her head for a moment. Then looked back up at the screens.

Sheargrip had recovered from the initial blows. With an agitated roar, the monster threw itself against the Jaeger and drove against the massive weight. In response, Romeo Blue planted its feet and balanced as the Kaiju continued driving against it with its bulk.

"Piledriver!" Bruce yelled over the COM.

Stacker watched as the Jaeger brought both of its arms above its head, then drove them down hard onto the Kaiju's back. Sheargrip's legs buckled under the force of the impact and the beast went down. The two colossal fighters skidded to a stop. Stacker allowed himself a sigh of relief.

"LOCCENT! We've got 'em on the ropes now! All that's left is—"

The twins were abruptly cut off as Sheargrip reached out and clamped Romeo's left arm in one of its pincers. It had grabbed just above the elbow, effectivity controlling the limb.

"GAAAGH!" one of the twins yelled as the Kaiju clamped down even harder. Sparks flew from the metal as the arm began to give.

"LOCCENT! The left arm is compromised! Systems are failing!"

Sheargrip suddenly roared and lashed out with its other pincer. Reaching high, it latched onto Romeo Blue's conn-pod.

"Romeo Blue! Get out of there!" Stacker yelled into the transmitter.

"Conn-pod is compromised, sir!" the twins shouted. "It's coming through the wall—"

What happened next was something out of Stacker's nightmares. Sheargrip bellowed loudly and simultaneously tore through the conn-pod and the left arm of Romeo Blue. The COMs went dead as Romeo Blue fell to the ground, lifeless. Its severed arm landed nearby.

"Romeo Blue!" Stacker yelled. "Romeo Blue, can you hear me?!"

"We've lost them, sir!" The Ops yelled from his seat. "I've got no life signs from either pilot. Neural interface is gone too!"

Mako gasped. Stacker immediately accessed the intercom.

"Mammoth Apostle! Get ready to deploy! We have to intercept the Kaiju to minimize damage."

"Sir! I'm reading neural activity from Romeo Blue! It's faint, but it's there! Once of the pilots must still be alive!"

Stacker whirled around and stared at the screen. The Kaiju had turned away from the fallen Jaeger and had begun lumbering away.

At first, the Jaeger was still. Then its right arm began to move. It was getting up! It was slow going as the heavy machine was attempting to right itself with just one arm, but it soon stood back up on two feet.

"Romeo Blue, what's your status?" Stacker yelled.

"Sir, COMs are still dead. They were knocked out when the hull was compromised."

Stacker shook his head and took a good look at the Jaeger on the screen. Not only did it only have one functioning arm, but it was also missing half of its conn-pod. The top of its head was completely sheared off, giving a full view of the pilot house inside.

Stacker squinted to try and get a good look at the remaining pilot, but the picture was too grainy. Stacker realized that with one of the twins gone, the other was now piloting Romeo Blue without help from a neural link. Attempting to pilot one of the heaviest Jaegers in existence solo was suicide. In fact, the simple task of getting up was an impossibility in its own right. It was doable in a lighter Jaeger, but with Romeo Blue's weight, the mind would snap under the load. And yet, somehow the Jaeger was standing.

Stacker accessed the COMs.

"Helicopter pilots, what do you see? Who's piloting Romeo Blue?"

The pilot's voice crackled over the radio.

"Sir, it's not one of the Gage twins. Whoever it is, he's wearing some kind of suit that isn't ours."

"It can't be," Stacker said back as the Jaeger took a few test steps forward. "Piloting the Jaeger would be impossible without the suit. There's no way to interface!"

"I can't see much detail, sir!" the pilot said back. "But he's definitely hooked up. His suit must be able to connect with the Jaeger."

By this point, the Kaiju had become aware that the Jaeger had righted itself. At first, it a look of surprise seemed to be on its features, but it quickly got over it. Sheargrip turned with an almost annoyed bellow and faced Romeo Blue yet again. Suddenly, Romeo Blue charged forward again.

It was faster, way faster than before. Romeo Blue's lumbering slowness had been its trademark since it had been first launched, but now, its movement seemed to be on par with a Mark-lV Jaeger, at least. In fact, Stacker thought it may now even be as fast as Striker Eureka, the first Mark-V Jaeger that had launched not one year ago. A Mark-l now had speed on par with a Mark-V that was a sixth of its weight. How was that possible?

"Sir! You're gonna want to see this!" the Ops yelled.

Stacker turned away from the screen for a brief second and stared at the console. He couldn't believe his eyes.

Neural activity was off the charts. Information from the Jaeger to the pilot was flying back and forth in droves. Stacker's eyes widened in surprise. That should not have been possible.

During the first testing of the neural bridge, experiments had been conducted on the possibility of connecting not just two, but three, four, or even five minds at once. That had been proven dangerous, as the flood of memories and events quickly overwhelmed the subjects, but neural capacity had exponentially increased with each mind that was added to the pot. And from what he saw on the screens, Stacker guessed that it would take no less than six minds working together to rival what he was seeing. And yet, it was all being done by one mind alone.

Whatever what piloting that Jaeger, it was no ordinary human.

Stacker watched as Romeo Blue reached the Kaiju and punched the creature square in the jaw, with its remaining fist. Stacker swore he could feel the shockwave through the video feed.

The beast bellowed in agony and staggered backward, but Romeo Blue didn't let up. Using its newfound speed, the Jaeger reached out and grabbed Sheargrip's right arm with its own. The Kaiju was still concussed from the first punch, so Romeo Blue had little resistance as it pulled the right arm across the monster's body. With a heave, Romeo blue shoved the open pincers around the beast's left arm, clamping the monster's left arm tight between the pincers.

Stacker heard the Ops mutter something. "He can't possibly be…"

Raising a fist high above the its body, Romeo Blue brought thousands of tons of force down on top of the pincers, which closed around the Kaiju's left arm and sliced it clean from its body. The Kaiju screamed and blood poured from the wound as the left arm landed on the ground with a massive thud.

"Holy fuck…he did," the Ops' jaw dropped open and stayed there.

Stacker's eyes widened. A move like that had never been attempted by Jaeger pilot in the history of the Pan Pacific Defense Corps. To use a Kaiju's own body against it, that was unheard of. His eyes widened further when he saw that Romeo Blue was only getting started.

Next to him, Mako had taken out a notepad and was now furiously scribbling notes down.

With its one remaining arm, the Jaeger reached down and picked up the Kaiju's dismembered limb. Sheargrip tried to reach out and stop it, but the Jaeger was too fast. Clutching one end, the Jaeger swung the meaty arm in a wide arc that struck the Kaiju on the side of the head. The weight of Romeo Blue's arm combined with the weight of the makeshift Kaiju club was enough to knock Sheargrip off its feet. The Kaiju screamed and fell onto its side, not even having time to land before Romeo Blue was upon it again.

Stacker watched in a mix of awe and shock as the Jaeger struck the downed Kaiju with its makeshift club over and over again. Each time the Kaiju tried to stand, the Jaeger hit it with another earthshattering swing. Sheargrip tried to shield itself with its other arm, but a few hits from Romeo Blue broke its shoulder and forearm, and now the limb flopped around on the ground, useless as the Kaiju took blow after repeated blow.

For the first time, Stacker almost felt sorry for the giant monster. He had never seen one brutalized in such a way before. When the Jaeger's fought against the Kaiju, the battle was usually down to the wire. Never before had it been so one-sided like this. The Kaiju's screams of agony began to grow weaker.

After a few more blows, Romeo Blue switched its grip on the arm, such that the pincers were open and facing downward towards the Kaiju.

Right above its neck.

"Maji…" Mako said from beside him.

With a final heave, Romeo Blue brought the arm down hard, clamping the Kaiju's neck tight between the pincers. The beast didn't even have enough energy to scream.

The Jaeger than swung its foot back and then crashed it hard into the claw, closing the pincers shut once more. There was a sickening noise of flesh being sliced apart, then the kaiju's head detatched from its shoulders. It rolled a small distance away from the body, and then fell still.

The shatterdome fell silent.

Then all at once, everyone cheered. A great roar of victory reverberated from the walls of the shatterdome. Another Kaiju had been defeated, and that meant that humanity would live to see another day. Stacker stood tall for a moment, allowing the thrill of victory to wash over him, but then spared a moment of silence. They had lost another Jaeger team today, and the damage done to Romeo Blue was nigh unsalvageable. With great victory, great sacrifice had been paid.

Stacker looked at the screens again. Romeo Blue was now bending over and examining the Kaiju's carcass, and Stacker saw just how much damage had been sustained during the fight. In addition to missing an arm and half of its conn-pod, there were also dents and gouges where the Kaiju had landed a few glancing blows during the battle.

Stacker addressed the helicopter pilots over the COM.

"Pilots, link up with Romeo Blue and bring it back here. It's time we asked a few questions."

…

A chorus of cheers and applause greeted Romeo Blue has the helicopters set it down in the shatterdome. The noise of applause continued as what was left of the conn-pod was disconnected from the Jaeger and transferred to the staging area. Stacker was waiting there. Mako stood beside him.

When the conn-pod arrived, Stacker got an up-close view of the pilot for the first time.

The helicopter pilot had been correct, this figure was dressed in a dark green suit of armor that showed no skin at all. Its helmet was also opaque, so Stacker couldn't see its face either. The pilot eyed Stacker as it stepped out of the conn-pod.

Stacker stood still with his hands behind his back. Mako clutched her notebook to her chest. She looked as though she was staring at a rock star or superhero. Stacker supposed she probably was.

"I am Marshall Stacker Pentecost. This is Miss Mako Mori." Stacker gestured to Mako, who bowed her head politely to the pilot. Her eyes never left its form.

"There are a few things we need to discuss…"

…

Stacker assessed the information he had been given. Attempting to get any information out of the pilot proved to be troublesome as it didn't speak at all. Therefore, their line of questioning was rather limited to yes or no questions only. At first, he considered using the drift to see the memories of the pilot, but given the massive neural power that he, Stacker had learned that it was a he, emitted, a normal human brain could not handle the load. After nearly two hours of questioning, Stacker had learned that the pilot had come from another dimension, but not the same dimension that the Kaiju had come through. His means of doing so was a breach-like tech that had been built into his suit. Though he could activate the breach, he had no control of where it took him. He was effectively dimension jumping willy-nilly in the hope that he could get back to his own dimension.

In exchange for his information, Stacker and Mako had told him of all that had occurred since the Kaiju had first arrived. The breach, the Jaeger Program, the growing frequency of Kaiju attacks, all of it had been laid out for the pilot. Upon hearing the story, the pilot seemed not that disturbed by any of it, which caused Stacker to question if such dire situations were "normal" to him.

Once all the necessary questions and information had been drawn from him. Mako had eagerly taken control of the conversation and was now questioning the pilot on his fighting techniques as well as how he had made Romeo Blue so agile all of a sudden. Her progress was limited again due to the barriers in his communication abilities, but Mako's enthusiasm did not waiver. Stacker was certain that she could have asked the pilot questions all day long, but they did not have time for that. He let her have her fun for a few minutes more before stepping in.

"As for the events that transpired today, it's obvious that you would make a formidable asset against the growing threat of the Kaiju. I'm extending to you an offer to stay with us and help us fight against extinction."

The unnamed pilot shook its head no. Stacker's heart sank.

"I understand, there is evil in your dimension that you must return to. We cannot burden you with ours."

Mako appeared to be downtrodden at the pilot's decision. Stacker couldn't blame her. This pilot had the mental capacity to make their slowest Jaeger into their fastest. He could only imagine what he could do in a Mark-lV variant.

"Before you go…" Mako said. Her voice shook slightly. "I…maybe you could show us a few rounds in the simulator? Just to help us understand your techniques a bit more?"

Stacker wanted to reprimand Mako, but he stopped himself. Truth be told, he wanted to see the pilot in action a little bit more as well.

The pilot looked from Mako to Stacker, then nodded its head once. Mako's entire being lit up in response.

"Domo…ah thank you. Thank you!"

The pilot nodded again and stood up from the table. Mako hid her emotions well, but Stacker knew that she was basically jumping for joy as she led the pilot from the room. Stacker smirked slightly and followed.

…

Stacker sighed at the massive crowd that was watching the simulations from the viewing room. He had tried to keep the information quiet, but as soon as word got out that the pilot from Romeo Blue was in the simulator, nearly the entire shatterdome had showed up to watch. Mako was at the front, watching the screens like a kid in the candy store.

So far, the pilot had run three simulations. Each time, he had fought three different Kaiju. So far, he had fought the Category-ll Kaiju (codenamed Ragnarock), and two Category-lll Kaiju, Yamarashi and Knifehead. He was currently fighting Knifehead, and Stacker found himself watching with interest, as this was the Kaiju that had cost him is star Jaeger team, the Becket brothers. All around him, members of the shatterdome cheered, placed bets, and watched with enthusiasm at the show they were receiving.

Interestingly enough, the pilot had chosen the Jaeger, Cherno Alpha, each time that he battled.

"Why does he choose a Mark-l every time?" someone asked from the crowd. "And why Cherno Alpha?"

"Cherno Alpha can deliver very powerful blows," Mako answered without looking away from the screen. "Not quite as powerful as a heavier Jaeger, but still very strong."

"But why doesn't he just use a heavier Jaeger then? We all saw it, he's fast enough even when in Romeo Blue. Why not use it? Or maybe a different heavy Jaeger, like Horizon Brave or Tacit Ronin?"

"It's because of the hands," Mako replied without missing a beat. "Cherno Alpha has proportionally large hands and fingers, allowing him to grapple more. He likes to rip and tear at his opponent."

Stacker nodded subconsciously, Mako was right. The pilot seemed to enjoy mangling his opponents in every way possible. As he said that, the pilot tore one of Knifehead's secondary arms from its body before delivering a solid uppercut to the Kaiju's sharp-ended nose. The beast's head snapped up, and Cherno Alpha followed by punching its massive fist straight into the Kaiju's mouth. Its "roll of nickels" was activated, and the Kaiju reared backward as all of its teeth were shattered.

Using the fist in Knifehead's mouth to hold it steady, Cherno Alpha then delivered one more crushing blow to the speared nose that gave the Kaiju its name, and this time, the nose broke off from the Kaiju's skull. The monster howled in pain, but it came out muffled due to Cherno's fist blocking its airway.

With its other arm, Cherno Alpha picked up the now dismembered nose and stabbed it deep into Knifehead's neck. The Kaiju bucked and tried to free itself, but it was now choking on its own blood. It gurgled and thrashed for a few moments more, then went limp. Cherno Alpha wrenched its fist from the beast's mouth, and Knifehead fell into the water. Dead.

Scenario Concluded. Calculating Score…

The gathering cheered at the victory. Stacker shared their enthusiasm. This pilot was insanely good at killing these things. His methods, however, would have required work, as Kaiju Blue would run rampant across the planet at the rate he made these things bleed. That was not a good thing.

The pilot stepped out of the simulation conn-pod and was instantly surrounded by a mob of shatterdome members. Many were congratulating him or patting him on the back, while others fired a barrage of questions.

Stacker immediately took control of the situation and everyone fell in line under his authority. Stepping up next to the pilot, he addressed the crowd.

"While this pilot's skills are indeed formidable, as well as his unique ability to pilot a Jaeger on his own, I'm afraid he cannot stay."

A murmur of discontent echoed through the crowd, but Stacker silenced them with a look.

"He is from another dimension, and he came here in a way similar to how the Kaiju do, but he is not affiliated with them. His own dimension suffers, and he must return. He only agreed to stay to run a few simulations to help us improve our fighting techniques against the Kaiju. And for that, you have my thanks. You've made us stronger today."

He then turned and offered his hand to the pilot, who nodded and shook it in return. The pilot then took a few steps back and gave the crowd a thumbs up. With a loud bang and a flash of blue light, the pilot was gone.

Stacker turned back to the crowd.

"He may be gone, but our work is far from over. Recall the evacuation, secure the Kaiju remains, and salvage anything you can from Romeo Blue. This war is not over yet."

Notes:

A/N: There's another chapter done. For those that may be curious, "Maji" is a slang word used for disbelief in Japanese. It's similar to "No way". As always, make sure to like the video and subscri- wait... wrong platform. My mistake! (Ok, it's a terrible joke but I felt like making it.) But anyhow, if you love/hate the chapter, please tell me so by dropping a review so I can continue to grow as a writer. Until next time!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 15: SCP

A/N: Ok! Nobody freak out now! Chapter 14 is done, but in all of my attempts to make my format transfer properly to the fanfiction website, the only way that I could get it to work was to give you guys a link. I know that it is not as easy as just reading the page, but I really really wanted it to look a certain way, so I put it in a link for everyone to enjoy instead. (The link is in my profile bio). I sincerely hope that this doesn't tarnish your reading experience, but please let me know if it does! I promise and cross my heart that its just a regular google drive link, not some crazy virus link or something.

Chapter 16: Ash vs. The Evil Dead

Notes:

A/N: Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome back to a brand new chapter in the story of the reality-hopping Doom Slayer! This chapter is actually quite an exclusive one, as it is my very first chapter that holds the title of a sequel to a previous chapter. I know that there are many requests for multiple universes for the Slayer to travel to, but this one was already in the works long before then. But don't you worry, I have received your requests for chapters, and am going to try my damnedest to give you the good stuff. With that out of the way, let's begin! Reminder that none of this is owned by me. None of it!

Pablo held tight to the girl in his arms as he rushed to get her to safety. All around him, gunfire mixed with the guttural screams of man and demon in an orchestra of desolation. A not-so-gentle chorus that signified the end of the world.

'This is it,' Pablo thought to himself as he reached the transport. This was the big finale. Kandar the Destroyer had been summoned by the Dark Ones. It was here to test the mettle of man, and so far, man was failing that test. Nothing the military was throwing at it barely made a scratch. In fact, all they were doing was making it angrier and more powerful.

Everything that had happened in Pablo's crazy, messed up life had been leading up to this. Ever since meeting Ash, the constant presence of demons, the evil dead, and talking puppets had definitely left Pablo with some serious issues. He had seen things that no mortal should ever have witnessed, done things that would earn him an afterlife of eternal damnation, and felt pain so excruciating that it made breaking a femur feel like a massage. And yet, if given the chance to do it all over, Pablo wouldn't have had it any other way.

Setting the girl down inside the vehicle, Pablo turned to see Ash, Kelly, and Brandy run up to him. He smiled and felt a touch of elation when he saw Kelly. After everything that had happened, the two of them were finally on a level that Pablo considered a relationship. All it had taken was for both of them to literally go to Hell and back. Pablo's only regret was that it was the absolute worst timing possible. Just when he had finally gotten himself out of the friendzone with her, the world decided to come to an end. The Ghost Beaters always had luck like that.

Kelly smiled back for a moment, but neither of them said anything as Pablo quickly helped usher Brandy into the transport while Kelly covered him. Pablo was about to usher Kelly in next when he heard soldiers shouting behind him:

"Sir! Strike group authorized! They're gonna nuke it!"

"Goddamn it! Not until we're clear! On our signal, you hear me?! On our signal!"

Not good.

"Jefe!"

Ash looked at Pablo, his game face dominating his features. When he made that face, he looked more like a hero than anyone Pablo had ever seen. An indomitable figure that ate Evil for breakfast. A true Jefe, straight out of the stories Pablo's uncle had told him regarding the heroes of old. If only they had a few more of those heroes right now.

"That won't kill it. It's only gonna make it stronger! Bigger!"

Ash nodded, then strode over to the sergeant.

"Hey chief! I wouldn't nuke that thing if I were you!" Ash said.

The sergeant had obviously dismissed Ash's opinion before he even finished his sentence.

"Get your ass in the transport! Or you're on your own, cowboy!" he said. Before Ash could say anything more, the sergeant turned on his heel and jogged away.

Pablo was about to call out when he heard Kelly's battle cry from his left. Ash had heard it too, and he caught Pablo's eye before pointing to the transport.

"Get in there! I'll get Kelly!"

Pablo nodded. That was another one of the things he had always appreciated about Ash. He had gone through so much shit that nothing really fazed him anymore. Every situation was taken in stride, with Ash always knowing what next to do, even if he actually didn't.

Pablo turned and climbed into the vehicle, Kelly quickly following behind as her and Ash returned.

"Dad, get in!" Brandy yelled, holding her hand out to help her father.

Ash took her hand in his, and at that moment, Kandar let out a blood-curdling roar that shook the world to its core. Pablo winced at the noise, but it was quickly forgotten as Pablo noticed a change come over Ash. He had stopped, his hand still in Brandy's, but his eyes looking at the three of them, as though he was coming to a realization.

Pablo stared back incredulously. It's like he was paralyzed. Pablo was about to ask Ash what the hell he was doing, but when Ash locked eyes with him, he understood. Neither of them said a word, but they had both come to the same conclusion. They knew what had to be done. The prophecy had foretold it long before any of them could have hoped to change it, and it stated that Kandar had come to test the mettle of man. And the champion it was to face: Ashley J. Williams.

Pablo almost missed it, but Ash nodded to him in understanding. There was no other way. What was foretold would come to pass, and there wasn't a soul on Earth that could change that.

Letting go of his daughter's hand, Ash reached deep inside his pocket, and pulled out a package. With a toss, Ash passed the bag to Pablo, who caught it in both hands. Pablo frowned in confusion as he stared down at the bag, uncertain of what it was he was actually looking at. It was a small Ziploc bag, and through the clear plastic, Pablo could see several burnt pieces of metal and a folded sheet of paper inside. Despite the weirdness of the contents, Pablo felt a twinge of familiarity at the small package he held in his hands.

His gaze traveled back upward at the sound of Ash closing the doors to the transport. The doors slammed shut with a boom, a sound that suddenly carried more weight for Pablo than he could have ever thought possible.

"NO!" Brandy screamed. She pounded on the door as Ash locked it from the outside. Pressing her face close to the window, Brandy shouted at her father.

"What are you doing?!" she cried hysterically.

Ash gazed at his daughter through the glass.

"My father always said I ran from my fights, Brandy," he said. His tone was firm and decisive. There were no quips to be made right now, not when their time had run out.

"I'm not running from this one."

Brandy said nothing, but frantically shook her head. Hopelessly trying to deny what her father was saying to her.

"Ash, come on! Get in the fucking truck!" Kelly said angrily from the seat across from Brandy. Her voice was angrier than Brandy's, but Pablo had known her for a long time now, and he knew all of her tells. He could see that Kelly was scared. Scared of being dead, scared of Kandar, and though she would never admit it, scared of losing Ash. Her eyes betrayed the same denial and fearfulness that Brandy's did. They had all just been reunited at long last, and now, Ash was about to leave them again.

"Kelly," Ash's voice was calm and level through the walls of the vehicle.

"People are gonna need a strong leader, someone they can depend on. Someone they can believe in."

Pablo saw the weight of realization fall on top of Kelly like a ton of bricks. She knew now that this was the last time she would ever speak to Ash.

"That's you."

Ash looked at Pablo.

"Pablo, you remember what I said? About only using the bag if you were in deep DEEP shit? Now's a good a time as any. The paper inside will tell you what to do."

Pablo's eyes widened as the truth dawned on him. He remembered their conversation in the Delta from what had seemed like ages ago. He nodded once to Ash, who nodded back in confirmation.

"You're the Jefe, now."

Pablo tried to hold back, but tears formed unbidden at the corners of his eyes. He tightened his mouth into a line to try and stem the flow.

Ash gestured to the others in the vehicle.

"You save them."

Pablo looked to the little girl that he had placed in the transport with them. Looking back at Ash, he nodded once more. A gesture that Ash again returned.

"You said you wouldn't leave me!" Brandy pleaded; Ash shook his head solemnly at his daughter's words.

"I'm doing this for you," he said, his voice hitching slightly. "I'm doing it for all of you."

Pablo could see it. Ash's walls were coming down. What he was saying now was coming from the heart and nowhere else.

"I gotta finally, for once, own up to who the hell I am."

Pablo heard the sergeant's voice in the distance.

"Come on! We're leaving, let's go!"

Brandy obviously heard it too, and Pablo could feel her desperation as she placed her hand on the glass that separated her from her father. Ash took in the sight of his daughter for one last time, then placed his hand on the glass too, right across from hers.

With a lurch, the convoy began moving, and Pablo watched as Ash started growing smaller and smaller as the distance increased. Ash watched them leave for a while, then he turned to face the sixty-foot-tall monster that was Kandar.

…

Ten minutes into the ride, and no one had said anything. Kelly had a deep scowl on her face, and if Pablo knew her, which he did, he knew that she was growing more and more frustrated with the fact that she couldn't punch, kick, or shoot her way out of this one. This was no one's fault, and there was nothing she could do.

Brandy was still looking out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of her father over the horizon. They had ridden for a while now, and they couldn't even see Kandar the Destroyer from where they were now.

Pablo stared down at the package in his hands. The small pieces of burnt metal looked like they used to be a part of a mechanism at some point, but they were too mangled and singed to make anything out of it. The piece of paper folded up inside didn't look like anything extraordinary, looking to be nothing more than standard notebook paper. Pablo carefully popped open the Ziploc bag and pulled the paper out, careful not to spill or lose any of the metal fragments inside. After resealing the bag, Pablo carefully unfolded the paper.

A quick glance to his left showed that Kelly was watching him, so he slid over so that she could see it too. Pablo hoped the distraction would help her calm down a bit more, but he didn't have too high of hopes on improving her mood.

After finally unfolding the note, Pablo recognized Ash's untidy handwriting on the page. Pablo read it quietly. Mumbling so that only Kelly could hear him:

Well, future Ash! If you are reading this, that means that shit has really hit the fan huh? I mean, let's face it, this is a huge trump card you're holding here. As in, this card is so trumpy that it literally flips the table over and shoots the other player. So, while this may be your big 'get out of jail free' pass, keep in mind that he's probably not going to be happy about this. So, in case you'd forgotten, because honestly, I have no idea how old you are or if you're even in the present, here's how to do the incantation. Step one: throw the grenade fragments on the ground in front of you. Step two: Say the words:  SISITSU INA QITRUB TAHAZI . Make sure you say them right! We wouldn't want that kind of fiasco again. Step three: Kick ass. Step four: apologize profusely. And that's it! Good luck!

Pablo frowned, questions already jumping into his mind. He glanced at Kelly, who had a similar confused look on her face. Pablo recognized the Sumerian words. They roughly translated to: "summon the onslaught". Pablo supposed that whatever the incantation did was not kind to evil, but on the other hand, you still had to speak the language of evil to summon it.

"Apologize profusely?" Kelly asked. "When the fuck does Ash-?"

Kelly's sentence was immediately cut short as the convoy ground to a halt. All at once, Pablo heard shouting and gunfire start up outside the vehicle, but he couldn't see anything out of the window.

"What the hell?" Brandy said aloud. She tried looking through the window at all angles but couldn't see anything. The gunfire then abruptly died, casting an ominous silence throughout the air. Pablo could hear his heartbeat in his ears, and cautiously, he looked out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was happening outside.

The silence was shattered instantly as a Deadite appeared, screaming and pressing its face into the glass.

"Well, well, well! Talk about fish in a barrel!" the Deadite cackled, pounding on the glass. The glass was strong, but the Deadite was stronger, and the glass began to crack as the Deadite continued to pound.

"Oh shit! Everybody back!" Kelly yelled, aiming her rifle as she did so. In the next moment, the deafening noise of automatic rifle fire blasted Pablo's eardrums as Kelly opened fire through the back window of the vehicle. The cracked glass shattered, and the Deadite convulsed as the rounds tore through its cranium. Kelly continued firing until the Deadite fell backward and out of sight. What Pablo saw next through the window made his blood run cold.

What he saw were more Deadites than he had ever seen. There were hundreds, maybe even a thousand. It seemed like the entire population of Elk Grove had been possessed, and they were all converging on convoy. Fast.

"Oh fuck!" Brandy screamed. "What are we gonna do?"

"I don't got nearly enough ammo to take care of these things!" Kelly yelled, reloading her rifle.

Pablo stared at the approaching horde, then at Kelly and Brandy, then finally down at the package in his hands. He contemplated it for a moment, remembering what Ash had said to him.

'Pablo, you remember what I said? About only using the bag if you were in deep DEEP shit? Now's a good a time as any.'

"Everybody, stay back!" Pablo yelled as he climbed past Kelly to the shattered window.

"Wait, Pablo! What are you doing?" Kelly yelled. Pablo answered her by taking the bag of metal and tossing it out the window at the encroaching horde outside. Still holding onto the paper, Pablo pushed Kelly and Brandy behind him. Just in time too, as the first of the Deadites reached the vehicle and tried to grab at him through the window. Stumbling back and fumbling with the paper a bit, Pablo took one last glance at the growling Deadites, then looked at the words on the paper.

"SISITSU INA QITRUB TAHAZI!"

A bright red light exploded into Pablo's vision, and he grunted and screwed his eyes shut in response. The light persisted, and Pablo could hear what he thought was thunder over the yells and cries of the Deadites outside the vehicle. Suddenly, the thunder faded, but the noise level only began to increase as numerous Deadites began to scream in agony from outside. The red light faded, and Pablo waited for his eyes to adjust. When his vision cleared, Pablo looked out the window again.

The scene before him left him in shock and awe, as he saw a lone figure in the dark of the night. A figure which was currently carving through Deadites with brutality the likes of which Pablo had never seen. Armed with a pump-action shotgun, the figure would alternate between using its weapon and its fists to maul the ranks of the horde. It was difficult to make out any details of the figure in the fading light, but Pablo could see that it was wearing some kind of armor that bulked out its already imposing frame.

As surprised as Pablo was, he had to admit that he had no idea what to expect after he chanted the incantation. For all he knew, it could've opened a portal to the ocean and flooded everything within its vicinity. But as Pablo watched the figure continue to massacre the Deadites outside, he decided that this was much better.

Glancing back down at the paper in his hands, Pablo saw that there had been a post script written in afterthought at the bottom of the page.

P.S. Say hello to Metal Guy for me!

"Metal Guy?" Pablo asked aloud. Kelly came up beside him.

"Metal Guy?" she repeated quizzically, glancing back at the figure with a mix of admiration and awe.

"It just says 'say hello to Metal Guy' at the bottom here. I guess that's probably who that is."

Kelly shrugged.

"Works for me," she said as she reached through the shattered window of the vehicle and opened it from the outside.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Brandy asked, frowning as Kelly stepped outside with her rifle.

"I need to shoot something or I'm going to lose my fucking mind, and until this 'Metal Guy' clears out the Deadites, we aren't going anywhere. So, we might as well help him along."

Pablo found himself agreeing wholeheartedly with Kelly. Ash wouldn't sit around and wait for someone else to save him, so neither would Pablo. Grabbing an extra rifle from inside the transport, Pablo offered it to Brandy.

"Are you coming with us?"

Brandy looked at the weapon for less than a moment before snatching it from Pablo's grasp.

"Fuck yeah."

Pablo nodded and grabbed another rifle and told the others to stay and wait for them to return. The little girl said nothing, but she nodded her head in response. Pablo gave her a high five, then jumped out of the transport and readied his weapon.

Looking ahead, Pablo saw that the Deadites had completely forgotten about them and were now attempting to swarm the Metal Guy, who appeared to be having little to no issues dealing with the horde, but he could only kill so many Deadites at once, and Pablo knew that the Ghost Beaters could lend a hand with that.

"Let's go!" Kelly shouted, raising her rifle and firing into the crowd of Deadites. That was all the encouragement Pablo and Brandy needed, and soon the three of them were mowing down Deadites with their rifles. Meanwhile, Metal Guy continued his onslaught with his shotgun.

Over the course of the next few minutes, the four Deadite killers fell into a rhythm of slaughter. Each finding their own pace as they tore through the incarnations of evil. Metal Guy seemed to notice that Pablo, Kelly, and Brandy were trying to help, and would remain relatively close by as the tide of Deadites continued to surge toward them. When the Deadites got close enough, the three of them were forced to use their fists as well as the butts of their rifles to dispatch of the former humans. Despite their flawless teamwork, Pablo noticed that the rate at which each of them were disposing of Deadites was far from the rate that Metal Guy was running at. Even with their combined kill count, the three of them couldn't hope to compare with how many Deadites Metal Guy was ripping through.

As if to emphasize the point, every time Pablo thought the three of them were about to be overwhelmed, the metal masochist would momentarily pull out a rocket launcher and fire it into the crowd of Deadites, which earned Pablo and the girls a bit of breathing room every time.

As Pablo shot down another Deadite, he tried to use his Brujo Especial abilities to see what kind of creature this was that they had summoned. Was it some kind of neutral demon? A familiar? A weird puppet-thing? As Pablo looked at it under a Brujo's eye, he saw some kind of energy pulsing from Metal Guy in droves. The energy itself was an enigma to Pablo, as it didn't appear to be demonic or mortal in origin. As hard as Pablo tried, he couldn't get a reading on this thing at all. What he did know, however, is that whatever this thing was, he was a force of nature. In addition to the slaughter show he was putting on, Pablo could also feel a sense of incorruptibility emanating from Metal Guy's entire being. He was a hurricane of destruction, and anything evil that stood in his way was promptly obliterated.

Sooner than Pablo thought possible, there were no Deadites left within the area. At least, none alive. Instead, there were now piles upon piles of corpses and severed limbs. Pablo took a deep breath as relative silence finally returned.

'Man,' Pablo thought. 'Imagine if Ash could see this…'

"Oh man! Ash!" Pablo said aloud, drawing the attention of Kelly, Brandy, and Metal Guy.

Pablo ran over to their armored savior, who had just then been stomping on the heads of a few of the corpses.

"Look…uh…Metal Guy? I'm Pablo and this is Kelly and Brandy."

"Sup," Kelly said with a nod of her head.

Metal Guy said nothing, but wordlessly spared them all a glance before looking back at Pablo.

"Ok look, Kandar the Destroyer is back in Elk Grove." Pablo pointed for emphasis. "And Ash stayed behind to fight it. Against that thing, only Ash stood a chance, but now I think you can help him."

Metal Guy nodded once. He seemed to recognize Ash's name and seemed willing to help.

"I know we are supposed to thank you and stuff like that, but they're gonna nuke the entire area to try and destroy Kandar. We know that's not going to work, so our only chance is for you to help Ash destroy it before they drop the bomb. None of us will make it very far if they do.

Metal Guy nodded once more, then pointed to the convoy, indicating that he wanted them to get up and go. It was an idea that Pablo could definitely get behind.

"Thank you," Pablo said as the three Ghost Beaters ran back to the truck.

Metal Guy nodded once more, then turned and sprinted in the direction of town with a speed matched only by a formula car.

"Do you think he can save him?" Brandy asked hopefully as she climbed into the passenger's seat of their truck.

Pablo climbed in after Kelly and took his position at the wheel. He started the engine.

"From what we just saw, I'm pretty sure that if he can't, no one can."

…

The Doom Slayer ran full-tilt as Kandar the Destroyer came into view. It was large, but larger demons had fallen before him before, and this one would be no exception. As the Slayer closed in on his prey, he saw that the massive monster was currently inspecting something that it had grasped in its left hand.

It was an assault tank.

Just as the Doom Slayer reached for his weapon, the tank came alive as it fired its main cannon. The projectile penetrated both the lower jaw and chest of the Kandarian Demon, and the beast shrieked in pain and stumbled, dropping the tank to the ground as blood began to surge from its wounded areas. The Doom Slayer stopped short and observed the scene as Kandar fell down onto its knees. There was movement from the top of the tank, and the Doom Slayer turned to see none other than Ash Williams himself poke his upper half out from the top of the turret.

But something was wrong. Kandar was dying, to be certain, but as it began to fall to the ground, the Slayer saw that its corpse would land right on top of the tank. The tank that Ash was currently occupying.

In a flash, the Doom Slayer was running at top speed again. Ash had seemingly realized the danger he was in as well, and quickly ducked back into the armored metal hull for cover. Kandar roared one last time before falling to the ground. The tank was crushed underneath.

But the Doom Slayer did not believe it so. Finally reaching the demon's corpse, he immediately pulled out his chainsaw and began sawing through the now dead demon flesh. Blood and organs spewed forth as the Slayer cut his way further into the body, but he hardly noticed the gore that he himself had grown so comfortable around. After a minute of sawing, the Slayer reached the tank. After sawing out some room to work, the slayer faced the thick steel armor that blocked his access to its interior. Drawing his hand back into a tightly-balled fist, the Slayer plunged an armored hand deep into the outer armor of the tank. When he withdrew his fist, there was now a small hole in the side of the armor. Gripping both sides of the hole, the Doom Slayer pulled his hands apart. There was a great shrieking of metal as the armor yielded to the Slayer's strength, causing the hole to grow wider and wider as he slowly tore through the metal. At last, the Slayer made a hole large enough to fit through, and he wasted no seconds in going inside to retrieve Ash.

Inside, he found Ash barely conscious, but uninjured. The man had aged quite a bit since the last time the Slayer had seen him, yet he only recalled it being no more than a few days since they had last met. No matter.

Grasping Ash firmly by his collar, the Slayer dragged him out of the tank and away from the Kandarian corpse. Ash was barely lucid, but he recognized the Slayer in his half-conscious state.

"Meh-Metal Guy…that you?"

The Slayer continued dragging Ash away from the danger but turned his head and nodded.

"Kick ass…I figurd Pablo wuh…woulda brought you here…"

The Slayer said nothing.

Ash chuckled. "Still the same ol' silent type eh? Leas…Least I know it's really you now. But if I'm being honest, I am slipping a little bit…wake me up tomorrow morning."

Ash then fell unconscious. The Doom Slayer immediately stopped and checked the man's vitals.

"You there! Step away from the Chosen One!"

The Doom Slayer turned to the direction of the voice. Approaching him were four individuals, each armed with rifles, and each one trained on the Slayer. The Slayer immediately stood up. His P.K.E scanner confirmed that they were all human.

"We are the Knights of Sumeria, enemy of evil, and follower of the Chosen One. We do not know who you are, but we can see that you are an ally of Ashley Williams," one of the Knights said.

In the Slayer's experience, never before had he seen knights dress so casually.

"The threat of Kandar and the Deadites have passed, but the Chosen One is in need of medical attention," the Knight continued. "We have medical supplies and can tend to him."

The Slayer examined them for a moment, then determined their intentions to be truthful. He stepped away from Ash, allowing them to step to his aid.

The one that had spoken remained behind. She stepped up to the Slayer. Her face betrayed no fear, and the Slayer assumed her to be their leader.

"I know who you are. You are the Doom Slayer, are you not?" she asked, her voice low so that the other Knights could not hear.

The Slayer nodded once.

"Your name rings in prophecy as well as that of Ash Williams. You are also present in the texts that we have uncovered. You are a worthy ally to our cause against the Dark Ones, but I know there exists turmoil in your own world."

The Slayer said nothing.

"I warn you, the prophecies speak of a great threat in your world. One far beyond anything the Dark Ones may present. If it is not stopped, many worlds, including our own, may be placed at risk. You must return there; they need you now more than ever."

The Slayer looked at her. Then turned to Ash.

"You need not worry about him. The Knights of Sumeria are strong, and we will always aid him on his quest against the Dark Ones. Of this, you have my word."

The Slayer searched her face for any tells of falsehood. Seeing none, he nodded once more and stepped back. Giving her a thumbs up, the Doom Slayer activated the tether and disappeared with a bang and a flash of bright blue light.

Notes:

A/N: Alright! There is another one for y'all. I sincerely hope you enjoyed, and please do remember to drop a review to call me out on my work. I'm really interested to see what everyone has to say about the dynamic of sequel chapters in the story as opposed to having the Slayer just jump to a new universe every time. Let me know! I'll see you all next time.

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 17: Interlude ll

TIME: DATE STAMP [[ERROR]] ANOMALY\ Revised date estimated 0450, September 12, 2552, captured Covenant flagship Ascendant Justice, in Slipspace en route to Eridanus system.

Dr. Halsey worked tirelessly in her own little world on the now human-covenant hybrid ship. Halsey supposed it wasn't actually a hybrid, but more of a forced meshing of the Covenant Carrier, Ascendant Justice, and the UNSC Frigate, Gettysburg. Cortana had done a fine job of dispatching the engineers they had found to mate the two ships together in the time of crisis. That gave Halsey one less thing to worry about.

Kelly was currently recovering from the treatment Halsey had given her. Halsey would insist that she remain in bed until a full recovery could be achieved, but she knew her words would fall on deaf ears. Her Spartans had always stubbornly refused to take the proper time to recover, and Halsey supposed she should shoulder some of the blame for that. In addition to Kelly, Halsey had just recently performed exploratory surgery on Linda, and discovered that the Spartan sniper's wounds were too severe to patch up. Halsey had immediately ordered Cortana to prepare flash clone transplants for the main surgery that Halsey herself would perform soon.

This temporary lull allowed Halsey to finally return to her project: the data chip that she had received back on Reach. She herself had had little time to examine it, but during a part of her time spent at Castle Base, she had been able to discern at least a few things about it.

When she had first examined the chip, the first obstacle she encountered was that it was designed in a format that could not be used or read by any data-reading devices that existed. Its design was human, certainly not Covenant, but that did not help much, resulting in Halsey spending a considerable amount of time on fashioning an adapter so that she could at least attempt to catch a glimpse of the chip's contents.

The second problem was the sheer amount of data that was stored on the chip itself. When Halsey had first attempted to access it through a computer at CASTLE Base, the device had crashed attempting to access it all. After amping up her processing power, Halsey was finally able to get a look at the contents. What she found was shocking to say the least.

The data on the chip matched the framework of an AI.

The discovery did not surprise Halsey that much. She had had her suspicions ever since that reality-warping stranger had given it to her after she had given Noble Team the AI, Cortana. No, the surprise came when she examined the computational algorithms that constituted the AI. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before.

To say it was different than the AI she was used to seeing was the understatement of the century. In terms of autonomy, this AI would have been classified as "smart" in a heartbeat. In fact, Halsey believed that this AI might merit a whole new status as to just how "smart" it was. To begin, Halsey had first examined its internal framework, and she discovered that the organization of the AI's computational processes were not at all like that of the Riemann matrix used to construct the smart AI in her universe. Instead, it constructed itself in a manner that Halsey would quickly call a more organized and efficient version of the Riemann matrix. Generally, when smart AI were created from the scan of a human brain, all of their processing systems and memory storage were more or less laid out like that of their original human template. What Halsey was quickly realizing, however, was that this AI utilized a far superior format for the core layout. One that maximized memory as well as greatly cut down processing time. Had she enough time, Halsey could've spent days on that subject alone.

The next thing she noticed was the sheer amount of data that constituted this AI. The amount of code and algorithms that made up its consciousness and systems was nearly twice as large as that of a regular AI. Halsey hypothesized that to bring this AI up to full functionality without having to suppress some of its systems would take nothing short of a literal miracle.

Without even doing any calculations, Halsey knew that it would take at least a mile of processors and cooling systems to even come close. And even then, it might not be enough.

With her limited time in CASTLE Base, Dr. Halsey had quickly devised a modified crystal chip with Kalmiya's help that could store the vastness of the AI. After that, she had transferred the AI's entire consciousness from the original chip to one that she could finally plug into the network at the base. But before she had the opportunity, they had been forced underground.

Now, despite the terribly small amount of time she had, Halsey had the opportunity to learn what she could from actually talking to the AI. The details of her escape plan were already being set in her mind, and she knew that she would not get another chance like this for a long while. She was also acutely aware that Cortana was watching her, but she hoped that her "daughter" AI wouldn't mind sharing the ship's systems with this new AI, or at least, what little of this AI that the two combined ships could bring to life.

Halsey took a deep breath, then plugged the data crystal into an access port in the medical bay. At first, the lights on the ship dimmed slightly as the load of the AI spread into the network. Cortana's voice spoke up into the medical bay.

"Seriously? Just how much is there of this thing? Even with both ships, this is getting pretty cramped."

"It's just for a minute, Cortana. Standby in case I have to terminate it. I have to try and get as much out of this as I can—"

"Hello."

Both Halsey and Cortana fell silent.

"I am VEGA. The sentient intelligence assig—"

"VEGA, I am Dr. Catherine Halsey, you may address me as Dr. Halsey. The AI you are currently sharing this network with is Cortana. You will forgive me for being direct, but our time is short. I have questions for you, and we have no hope of helping each other until you answer them."

There was a brief moment of silence. Halsey could feel herself almost shaking with excitement. Despite her longing for time to do what she wanted with this AI, she knew that she was making the right decision.

"I understand, Dr. Halsey. I am ready to begin."

Halsey felt her heart skip a beat. The AI was cooperative. Thank goodness for that. A hostile AI of that magnitude could've spelled doom for the entire ship. Had it turned hostile, Halsey wondered if even her and Cortana working together could have stopped it.

As Halsey began her questioning, she already knew what she had to do next. She would have to deliver the AI to ONI, for they would know best on how to utilize it against the Covenant. This AI was capable of almost twice that of a regular AI, and Halsey knew they would find a way to benefit humanity through it. Even if their methods were morally questionable. After all that Halsey had done, who was she to judge?

She knew that she would have to give the AI to John. He would have to deliver it to ONI, as Halsey had no intention of going back to Earth. There were other things that required her attention instead of heading home. John already had to deliver her report on the Flood anyway, and Halsey quickly remembered that there was still the issue of that as well. John would have to make a decision when she called him in. His final lesson from her was about to begin…

Notes:

A/N: So, in case some of you are confused, this takes place between the events of Halo: CE and Halo 2. More specifically, it takes place during the events of the novel: Halo: First Strike. I highly recommend the book, it's a great read!

Chapter 18: Goblin Slayer

Notes:

A/N: Uh oh! What's this? I'm back? Aw yeah! Ok, so first thing's first. I definitely owe everyone an apology for the massive dry period you just endured between chapters. My absence was due to me being out of town for a while, and I had no access to my story writing material. So from the bottom of my heart, I apologize. Now, without further ado, please welcome the next installment of the story! This time, the slayer of Doom is about to meet the slayer of goblins, with the next chapter thrusting him into Goblin Slayer! Enjoy, and remember that I don't own any of these characters or franchises.

Chapter 16

The young Priestess took a moment to survey the entrance of the cave located just over the hill. As typical of a goblin nest, there was a guard posted at the entrance. Three guards actually, which was typically indicative of a rather sizable horde within. The guards themselves seemed bored, and one of them yawned loudly, causing the one in charge to slap him on the back of the head. Priestess watched closely, but her mind was deep in thought.

Yet again, Goblin Slayer had accepted another goblin quest without consulting the rest of the party, and now the five of them were about to enter the cave that the quest-giver from the nearby village had mentioned. Priestess was irritated that Goblin Slayer had accepted the quest without at least talking with her about it beforehand. She was even more irritated by the fact that even if she chose to sit it out, Goblin Slayer would just go on the quest without her, an outcome that she detested even more. That was one of his quirks that annoyed her to no end.

Priestess sighed and slightly shook her head. Despite Goblin Slayer’s tendencies, he had changed quite a bit since the two of them had formed an adventuring party. Even though ‘I see…’ and ‘Is that so?’ still permeated his vocabulary to an exasperating degree, he now was giving more than just one-word answers when someone asked him about his day or tried to start a conversation. Baby steps to be sure, but steps nonetheless. She’d like to think that the entire party had a hand in helping him improve.

The Priestess glanced sideways at that thought at the rest of the party who crouched beside her: Lizard Priest, Dwarf Shaman, and High Elf Archer. Each of them was a different race and a different class as well. Together, they formed a very well-rounded adventuring group, and Priestess was extremely thankful to have them all by her side.

“Milord Goblin Slayer,” Lizard Priest whispered, his voice ever polite despite his hushed tone. “You say that this horde of goblins is rather numerous?”

“Yes,” Goblin Slayer replied in his typical stoic demeanor. “Whoever wrote out the quest specified that the nest was large.”

“Are you sure that we don’t require any reinforcements, Bread Cutter?” Dwarf Shaman asked with a raised eyebrow. “If their number is so great, then perhaps there may be a few goblin champions among their ranks.”

Priestess shivered at the thought of a goblin champion. She recalled the time not so long ago when Goblin Slayer and she had nearly lost their lives to one. She still had the occasional nightmare about it.

“The passageways will be narrow within the cave,” Goblin Slayer replied without looking away from the entrance. “A goblin champion will be cramped and unable to move effectively. We will have the advantage.”

“And what if they aren’t narrow, Orcbolg?!” High Elf Archer hissed back. “What if there is an ogre in there? Last I checked, you don’t have another Gate scroll linked to the bottom of the sea to help us out like last time!”

Goblin Slayer was silent for a moment, then replied, “If there is too great a threat, then we retreat and plan accordingly.”

High Elf Archer seemed surprised by his words, and Priestess was as well. Goblin Slayer rarely ever considered retreating, even in the most impossible of odds. This caused Priestess to smile slightly. The fact that he even considered retreating as a viable option showed just how far he had come in caring for the others in his party, and she was very happy to see his progress in action.

This seemed to satisfy High Elf Archer as well, and she nodded once before turning back to the entrance.

“Wait, what’s that?” the elf said suddenly, squinting toward the entrance. Priestess strained her eyes as well but saw nothing apart from the goblins at the entrance. The guards had turned their heads back to the mouth of the cave, as though they had been alerted by a commotion from within.

“What? See something, long ears?” Dwarf Shaman asked with a slight grin.

“Quiet, potbelly!” The Archer said, her features still focused intently at the mouth of the cave. “I just saw something. A quick flash of light, I think. It came from just beyond the cave entrance. I also heard a slight ‘pop’ or a ‘bang’ of some kind…”

“It could be a goblin shaman using a fireball spell,” Goblin Slayer said. “but it is unlikely.”

Priestess nodded her head in agreement. If there was a shaman in their ranks, then there would have been totems placed out in front of the entrance.

He turned his head to High Elf Archer, his expression ever-unreadable behind his faceplate.

“Can you kill all of them in a single shot?” he asked. The elf looked down at the half-attentive goblins, then shook her head.

“The angle is wrong. I can get two of them with a single shot, but I’d have to load another arrow for the last one.”

“What’s the matter, anvil? Losing your touch?” Dwarf Shaman jeered lightly. High Elf Archer’s cheeks turned red at his remark.

“I’d like to see you try to take the shot, half-pint!”

“Two is fine,” Goblin Slayer said, taking out his sling from his pack. “Take the two on the right, I will kill the last one.”

The Archer nodded once, then took an arrow from her quiver and took aim. Beside Priestess, Goblin Slayer took a large rock and loaded it into the sling. Thinking quickly, Priestess spoke up.

“Goblin Slayer! I…I would like to take the shot.”

Goblin Slayer stopped his wind up and looked over at her, as did the other members of the party. She couldn’t see his face, but that just made him all that more intimidating.

“…Very well.”

Priestess felt a swell of pride as he passed her the sling. He knew that she had been practicing, and she had already proven to him that see was capable with the sling. Now, she wanted to show her improvement to the rest of the party as well.

“On my signal,” Goblin Slayer said, raising his hand into the air. Both Priestess and High Elf Archer waited patiently, their respective weapons poised.

Half a beat later Goblin Slayer dropped his hand down. Immediately after, High Elf Archer fired, her arrow already curving to strike though one goblin and into the other. Priestess raised her arm and swung the sling, keeping her eyes trained on her target the entire time. As she let go, she watched as he stone sailed toward the goblin, who was still looking inside the cave.

As Priestess watched, her worries grew that her aim was off. The stone looked like it was arching to the right just a bit…

Her worries were proven unwarranted as the stone struck the goblin squarely in the back of the head. Since the creature wore no helmet, the rock cracked its skull and shattered the base of its neck. The goblin let out a small croak of surprise before it fell, dead before it had even hit the ground. As for High Elf Archer, her arrow had already pierced clean through her first goblin target and buried itself into the eye of the next as he turned to look at the commotion its comrades were making. The arrow itself pierced deep into the goblin’s head, and it fell almost as quickly as its compatriots. The guards had been neutralized.

“Oh-ho! It certainly seems that someone has been practicing their marksmanship!” exclaimed Lizard Priest with a tone of praise.

“I’ll say!” chimed in Dwarf Shaman. “In fact, I think a certain long-eared member of our group could learn a thing or two from you!”

High Elf Archer rolled her eyes but still turned to the Priestess and gave her an approving nod.

“Well done,” Goblin Slayer added. “Now, we kill the goblins.”

With that, Goblin Slayer climbed down the hill they had been hiding behind.

“Well now, a compliment from Beard Cutter most definitely means you did well!” laughed Dwarf Shaman as the rest of the party followed.

“I killed one too…” grumbled High Elf Archer from next to the Priestess. “Two in fact.”

Priestess gave her an apologetic smile.

As the party approached the cave entrance, Priestess saw that Goblin Slayer was already double-checking that the goblin corpses were actually dead. Taking each of their weapons, Goblin Slayer stabbed each of them solidly in the chest, counting the bodies to himself.

“Three…”

Priestess knew what came next: it was time for them to mask their scent, as goblins had an excellent sense of smell. They had an especially keen nose for women and elves, making it all the more imperative for Priestess and High Elf Archer a conceal their scent. Unfortunately for them both, doing so meant that their clothing was very quickly going to get a makeover.

High Elf Archer knew what was coming as well, as she had been along on numerous goblin-slaying quests by now. Priestess was well-used to it, but High Elf Archer still complained quite a bit at this part.

“Orcbolg! If you keep insisting that I cover myself in disgusting goblin blood, you can at least let me do it by myself!”

“I doubt you will apply enough,” Goblin Slayer replied coolly, removing a hand cloth from his pack as he did so. The High Elf Archer stamped her foot in response.

“I think you secretly enjoy making me ruin my clothes every time we go on a quest!”

“What would I enjoy that?”

High Elf Archer sighed and slumped her shoulders. “Never mind, let’s just get this over with.”

A few minutes and quite a bit of goblin inards later, Goblin Slayer was satisfied that goblins would not pick up their scent.

“This is so disgusting,” High Elf Archer bemoaned as she stared at the blood splotches all over her clothes.

“On the bright side, long ears, you probably smell better than you normally do right now!” laughed Dwarf Shaman.

High Elf Archer looked like she was about to retort when a muffled bang sounded from the cave, causing everyone to stop and listen. Shortly after, another bang sounded, followed by another, and another…

“I certainly don’t think this is the work of a shaman,” said Lizard Priest as the banging continued at random intervals.

“No,” said Goblin Slayer. “It’s not.”

Silently, Goblin Slayer lit a torch, and the party entered the mouth of the cave. The banging continued every now and then, but it wasn’t getting any louder.

“Whatever is causing this must be traveling deeper into the cave…” noted Dwarf Shaman.

Priestess was so focused on listening to the noise that she nearly bumped into Goblin Slayer when he stopped in front of her. Stumbling slightly, she composed herself glanced questioningly around is armored bulk.

In the relatively dim torchlight, Priestess’s eyes opened wide to see the ground ahead of them littered with goblin corpses. To call them corpses would be inaccurate, however, as none of the bodies before them were whole. Instead, the scene before them depicted a meat grinder. Heads, arms, and legs alike lay haphazardly all across the floor, some still attached to partial torsos, and some scattered alone throughout the tunnel. The lack of whole bodies made it difficult to get a count, but Priestess guessed that there must have been at least twenty dead goblins on the ground in front of them.

“Goodness, it looks as though there was a massive explosion in here,” exclaimed Lizard Priest, noting that the signs of carnage continued beyond the floor. Priestess followed his gaze and saw just what he meant as she gazed upon the numerous fresh blood splatters that painted the walls of the cave.

“I dare say. Whoever did this just may hate goblins even more than you, Beard Cutter!” Dwarf Shaman said as he examined a set of goblin legs that lacked an upper body.

“We’ll keep moving,” said Goblin Slayer. “There is no need to check the corpses.”

Priestess agreed, none of these decimated goblins could still be alive, not when they all were missing over half of their bodies.

As the party continued deeper into the cave, they continued to notice more and more goblin corpses as well as more blood stains on the wall. At one point, Priestess saw the corpse of a hobgoblin. It was easily distinguishable among the other goblins, as while most goblins stood about as tall as children, hobgoblins were much bigger. They stood almost a head taller than most humans, even almost as tall as the lizardmen. However, the corpse that the priestess saw would be about as tall as her if it could stand, a fact which was only true because everything above its stomach had been completely vaporized. Its arms, shoulders, and head were completely absent from the corpse, and try as she might, Priestess did not find them anywhere among the other goblin corpses. What magic could have possibly done this? Priestess felt a horrible suspicion that whoever or whatever was responsible also was the source of the banging coming from deeper within the cave.

“My word,” said Lizard Priest. “We must have seen at least one hundred corpses so far!”

“Yes,” Goblin Slayer replied without turning around. “The nest is far bigger than I thought.”

“But…there are no totems,” Priestess noted. “and certainly a nest of this size would have more than one hob?”

“A nest this size has a leader,” Goblin slayer said flatly. “Yes, there must be more than one hob, and it also means that there is a lord.”

The thought of a goblin lord sent a chill through the party. They had all witnessed firsthand just how well goblin lords were at organizing goblins. The attack on the farm had proven that. If there was another one here, just what had the power to destroy its ranks like this?”

“Goblin Slayer, d-do you think that another adventuring party could have beaten us to this cave?” Priestess asked.

“No. There were still guards outside the entrance. Another adventuring party would have killed them as well.”

“Just what are you saying this is then, Orcbolg?” High Elf Archer retorted in annoyance.

“I do not know, but whatever this is, it came from inside the cave.”

“Inside?” inquired Dwarf Shaman. “As in maybe a goblin champion turned against the rest of the horde and killed them?”

“Not likely. Goblin champions do not inflict destruction on a level like this. Their weapons crush and slash, but even then, they do not have the capabilities to cause the damage we have seen.”

“Then…then this is some form of magic?” Priestess asked again.

“I don’t know.”

…

After another minute of walking, the sporadic banging finally seemed to be growing louder. In addition, Priestess noticed the time between bangs had also begun to decrease. She began to get more nervous as the banging almost seemed to get angrier and angrier.

Suddenly, the banging stopped. Everything was silent for a moment, but as Priestess’s ears adjusted, she began to pick up the sounds of goblin cries and screams from just up ahead.

“They are fighting,” said High Elf Archer. “The main cavern must be in there; I can hear echoes off of the walls. It’s big.”

“Any hobs or champions?” asked Goblin Slayer. The group stopped with the cavern just ahead.

“Yes, m-many. Wait, no. Just a few now,” High Elf Archer replied.

“Alright, we go quietly now,” Goblin Slayer said as he extinguished his torch. The party was cast into darkness, but Priestess could see a light ahead in the main cavern.

Silently, the party approached. When they reached the entrance, the light showed a bit brighter, and Priestess was mystified by what she saw.

The main cavern itself was indeed large. The circular wall stretched far around to the left before curling back around to the right, leaving no corners anywhere. The floor of the cavern itself was littered with the bodies of goblins, all of which were in the same condition as the ones they had seen before. Among them were the bodies of a few hobs and champions, but the gruesome scene was only amplified by the piles of waste and excrement that were found all around the edge of the cavern. Priestess payed them little mind however, as the scene in the center of the cavern caught her attention the most.

In the center of the cavern, as if on a stage, three figures stood illuminated by the torches on the walls. One of them was easily a goblin champion, recognizable by his massive height and bulky weapon. Even though it was facing away from them, the monster was easily identifiable from its stature alone. Priestess felt a chill down her spine as she recalled her last encounter with a champion, but she forced it down and took in the other two occupants in the room.

The first one was another goblin, except this one looked different from the others. Like its comrade, it too had its back to the group. It looked to be about as tall as a hobgoblin, but it was wearing armor that was far better quality than anything she had seen on a hob. At its side, it carried a long sword, something goblins usually neglected to carry. In addition, the goblin also wore a cloak around its shoulders and what appeared to be a crown on its head. With a start, the Priestess realized just what kind of goblin it was.

“T-that’s…!”

“The goblin lord,” Goblin Slayer said before she could finish. “They were readying for an assault on the nearby village.”

“Like the one before!” said Lizard Priest in a hushed tone.

“Yes.”

“But even in a cave like this where they lose their numbers advantage, what could have possibly decimated their ranks so quickly?” asked Dwarf Shaman.

At his words, the Priestess’s eyes fell upon the third occupant in the room, which was another humanoid of some sort. Even though it was facing them, she could not quite make out any distinct features, and squinted to get a clearer picture. Before she could get a good look at it however, the figure suddenly dashed toward the nearest goblin champion. Priestess felt her eyes widen as the figure lunged forward and kicked the goblin champion directly in its knee. There was a distinct crunching as the joint shattered, and the goblin champion howled in pain and fell down onto its remaining knee, bringing its head level with the figure.

The figure paused for a moment, and it seemingly studied the massive goblin howling in pain before it. A split second later, the figure raised its arm and punched the champion’s head from its shoulders. There was a sickening rip as the head tore free from the body, and blood sprayed all over the goblin lord and the figure itself.

The head bounced and rolled a bit more when it hit the ground before coming to a stop near Priestess’s feet. She glanced at the head before turning back to the scene with wide eyes.

In the dim torchlight, Priestess was finally able to get a proper look at the figure. Whatever it was, it was clad in a strange dark green set of armor. It wasn’t very tall, perhaps the same height as Goblin Slayer if not a little bit taller, leaving Priestess questioning where its strength seemed to come from. A helmet with what appeared to be an opaque glass visor covered the figure’s face, leaving her to wonder what race this stranger belonged to. It was tall, so definitely not one of the shorter races like dwarves or rheas, but not tall enough to be a Lizardman. So that that made it either a padfoot, an elf, or a human.

But given what she had just seen, the Priestess wondered if perhaps it was really a demon…

“Such strength!” marveled Lizard Priest as the figure then turned to face the goblin lord.

Oh no.

The situation before them had suddenly changed. The goblin lord was standing still with his sword raised, but in his other hand, he held a limp human girl by her neck. The girl was naked, and Priestess had no doubt that she was one of the girls that had been taken by the goblins. As for the sword, the goblin lord held it poised to snuff out he girl’s life at any moment, and it grinned wickedly at the armored stranger before it.

The figure did not move from where it stood, but Priestess saw it clench its fists tightly at its sides. She may not know who this stranger was, but she understood its body language well enough.

It was enraged, likely itching to tear the goblin lord to pieces. But the only thing stopping it from doing so was the goblin lord’s blade hovering mere inches from the girl’s neck.

Priestess shifted her gaze from the figure to the girl, her eyes wide with fear. She prayed frantically to the Earth Mother to please save the girl, please…please…

There was a flash of movement to her right, and Priestess turned her gaze just in time to see a throwing knife sail through the air. Her gaze continued to follow the knife, which appeared more as a disk as it spun. The goblin lord remained oblivious, still jeering at the figure. His grin suddenly fell as the knife it its mark, burying itself to the handle into the lord’s back.

The creature cried out in pain, arching its back and releasing the woman in his grip. Which had proven to be his undoing. In a flash, the figure lunged forward again. With a speed Priestess thought impossible, the figure grasped the goblin lord by its throat and held it up in the air.

The goblin choked and hacked and desperately grabbed at the figure in an attempt to get free, but the grip only tightened. Priestess watched in a mixture of horror and awe as the figure slowly wrapped its fingers tighter and tighter around the goblin’s throat. To an observer, it would have seemed that it was slowly making a fist, and the goblin lord’s neck was simply yielding in response to its strength.

The goblin lord now thrashed violently in a panic as his spinal cord began to crack and pop. Each vertebra was being forced apart from the others by the fingers of its captor, undoubtedly causing great pain. In addition, the goblin lord found he could no longer make any noise, as his windpipe had been completely crushed at this point. Oxygen had been denied entry to his burning lungs.

A loud crack finally resounded from the goblin’s neck, and the creature fell limp. Its arms and kicking legs now hung lifelessly the body. The figure held its grip for a few more moments, then with a slight heave, pulled the dead goblin’s head clean from its shoulders. Blood spurted from the nape of the corpse, spraying the figure in a red mist, but it hardly seemed to notice as it tossed the severed head to the side, turning to look at party standing at the entrance of the cavern.

There was a tense moment of silence as both parties stared at each other, neither quite knowing the intentions of the other. Then without saying a word, the figure bent down and wrenched the throwing knife from the corpse of the goblin lord and held it out by its blood-soaked blade.

Without saying a word either, Goblin Slayer strode forward and carefully took the knife from the figure’s outstretched hand. Another moment of silence followed shortly after, the two armored figures wordlessly examining each other.

Priestess suddenly felt it before she could see it. A connection had been made. Whatever this figure was, it somehow understood Goblin Slayer, and vice versa. They each understood because they were one in the same. Priestess was not sure how, but she could feel an indomitable aura emanating from the figure in green armor. She was familiar with the sensation, as she had felt it numerous times in her adventures with Goblin Slayer. And now, the Priestess was fairly certain that the two of them felt like they were looking into a mirror. The other party members seemed to notice this as well.

“Well, well, well! I think milord Goblin Slayer has finally found another that speaks his language!” laughed Lizard Priest, tilting his head backward with a genuine smile on his face. The stranger turned its head at the name ‘Goblin Slayer’, then looked back and tilted its head in what seemed to be…humor?

“Indeed,” agreed Dwarf Shaman, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “It’s as though they are conveying more information by just staring at each other than they ever could with words!”

“ARRRGGHH! You mean to tell me that there’s two of them now?!” High Elf Archer bemoaned, throwing her head back in exasperation. The Priestess tried to give her a reassuring smile.

“Well…maybe there’s a silver lining to be found in this?”

The elf said nothing and slumped her shoulders in resignation. The rest of the party approached the stranger, who continued to remain silent.

“Your strength is rather great given your size,” exclaimed Lizard Priest looking the figure up and down. “I have never met a race with such power. Are you not human?”

The figure gave a slight shrug of its shoulders. It obviously understood them, but it seemed it was either incapable of speech or just preferred not to speak. The question remained unanswered.

“Well now, I didn’t think it was possible to find someone who talks even less than you do, Beard Cutter. But I think we have found someone that takes the cake!”

“Is that so?” Goblin Slayer replied unemotionally, walking past the stranger to the rear of the cavern. Priestess saw a hidden alcove hidden behind a small wooden board that goblins used in place of doors. She had been on enough quests to know what came next. The goblin children had to be disposed of. Priestess felt her stomach churn every time this part of the quest came. She knew it had to be done, but she had always sincerely hoped that there was another way.

Her attention immediately turned to another alcove on the other side of the cavern. No doubt, that was where the goblins kept their breeding stock, and as a Priestess, she was one of the best suited to help them with any injuries they had sustained.

Firstly, Priestess knelt down next to the woman that the goblin lord had used as a hostage. She was still breathing, and she did not seem to have any external injuries. Priestess sighed in relief.

“It’s ok,” she said softly. “We are going to get you out of here.”

She did not know if the woman heard her or not, so she left her with Dwarf Shaman and went to tend to the others. In total, there were five girls captured in the goblin’s nest. Thankfully, none of them had sustained fatal injuries, but Priestess did have to use minor heal on one for a deep slash to her midsection. Luckily, there had been no poison in the wound. She then fashioned them some modest clothing using the robe of the goblin lord and other garments lying about in the cavern.

Soon, the party was making their way back to the entrance. Lizard Priest carried two girls under his arms, and the stranger carried three: one on its back and two under its arms. Initially, Lizard Priest had protested against the stranger carrying three girls, but the stranger had silently insisted, and Lizard Priest relented when he remembered the strength the figure possessed.

The party remained silent for the entire journey back to the village.

…

Guild Girl was rather busy at the front desk of the Adventurer’s Guild. Many quests had to be filed that day, and she had to work diligently to ensure that nothing was misfiled. So busy was she, in fact, that she did not look up at the sound of the front door to the guild hall opening. It was a busy afternoon, and adventurers came and went, so she could not bothered look up every time the door opened. It was only when she heard the familiar heavy footfalls of a certain adventurer approaching the desk that she smiled to herself and looked up. She had learned to listen for that distinct noise, as it always preceded the arrival of…

Goblin Slayer strode into the guild hall. With him was his usual adventuring party, consisting of the young Priestess, the dwarf, the elf, the lizardman, and…

The receptionist frowned as she laid eyes on a newcomer to their group. It was someone she had not seen before. Not just in Goblin Slayer’s party, not just in the guild hall, but not even around town. At first glance, he or she could be mistaken for just another heavily-armored adventurer, but when Guild Girl looked closely at the armor, she saw that it wasn’t metal or leather, but some other material that she had never encountered. Not only that, but the armor carried a rather strange design on it, as well as a few other markings that Guild Girl had never seen on any other adventurers. The newcomer gazed around the guild hall, taking in this new place that it had never seen before.

Guild Girl, as well as a few others within the hall were curiously looking in his or her direction, but the stranger did not seem to notice.

As the party approached the desk, Guild Girl shifted her gaze back to Goblin Slayer at the front, and her smile easily returned to her face at the sight of her favorite adventurer.

“Welcome back, Mr. Goblin Slayer. How did it go?” she beamed enthusiastically.

“There were goblins.”

Of course, there were. That response from him had almost become a ritual every time she inquired to one of his quests. Guild Girl took out a quest completion report and began to fill it out in preparation for the details from Goblin Slayer.

“How many were there?” she asked, her quill inked and ready.

“I do not know.”

Guild Girl frowned and looked up at him. That was very unusual. Goblin Slayer always kept a constant count in his head as to how many goblins he had killed.

“You did not know how many you slayed?”

“We slayed three.”

“Only three?”

“Yes.”

“There were…only three goblins?”

“No.”

“What Goblin Slayer is trying to say…” Priestess chimed in. “Is that we only killed three goblins, and the rest were slain by him.”

Guild Girl followed Priestess’s gesture and once again found herself looking at the strange newcomer, who said nothing.

“I see…Well, even if this man did slay most of the goblins, I do not believe that he is an adventurer, nor did he take the quest originally. So, the reward for completion still goes to you and your party.”

“No. We cannot accept that,” said Goblin Slayer. The newcomer immediately shook its head in disagreement with him, however, causing Goblin Slayer to look over.

“Goblin Slayer,” Guild Girl chimed in, her voice remaining cheerful. “Even if this man did all the work, I am bound by the rules of the guild to pay the party that the quest was assigned to. You may do whatever you wish with the money, but you must be the one to accept it from us.”

“Is that so?”

“That is so,” beamed Guild Girl.

…

Priestess watched curiously as Goblin Slayer spoke to the stranger. The three of them were standing on the training ground just outside the guild hall, and the midday sun shone down with intensity.

After the party had filed their report, Goblin Slayer had requested to talk with the stranger and his extremely efficient methods of goblin extermination, which the stranger had wordlessly agreed to. The other members of their party had separated, choosing instead to remain inside the guild hall and enjoy a meal. Priestess was hungry as well, but she chose to remain with Goblin Slayer, as she too was curious about this new stranger.

“In the cave, there were numerous banging noises. Was that your doing?” Goblin Slayer asked, blunt and to the point as usual.

The figure nodded once, and before Priestess’s eyes, he produced an object from thin air. Her eyes widened at the sudden appearance of the object, and her curiosity was piqued by the alien appearance of it.

The item itself appeared to be made of a combination of wood and metal. A curved wooden handle seemed to be where the item was gripped, with two metal cylinders protruding outward from the wooden handle.

Before Priestess could visually inspect the object further, the stranger pressed a lever and the item suddenly bent in half, bending around a single hinge that was located almost halfway between the two ends of it. It was then that Priestess saw that the two metal cylinders on the object were hollow, as she could see daylight down the other end of the tubes when she looked through them.

Promptly, the stranger reached behind himself and returned with two small red tubes in his hand, both of which were about as long as a finger while being just a bit thicker. The wood and metal item was still firmly grasped by its handle in his other hand. The figure offered one of the red tubes to Goblin Slayer, who took it without question and examined the outside of it. The stranger continued by taking the other tube and loading it into one of the hollow cylinders on the metal weapon. With a metallic snap, the stranger closed the hinge shut, the tube disappearing from view as it was now locked inside one of the metal cylinders.

The stranger looked around for a moment before settling his gaze on an empty barrel that sat against the wall of the building. There was a moment of silence as the stranger pointed the machine at the barrel, then—

BOOM!

The silence was shattered by the deafening blast as the item kicked in the stranger’s hands and released a cloud of smoke.

Priestess instinctively dropped her staff and covered her ears at the piercing noise, but as quickly as it came, the noise died, leaving only its distant echo throughout the village.

Priestess slowly uncovered her ears and stared incredulously at the barrel target, or more specifically, what was left of it.

Whatever the weapon was, it had completely destroyed the wooden framework of the barrel, leaving little more than small planks and splinters as a result.

“I see,” Goblin Slayer said. Priestess almost didn’t hear him through the ringing in her ears.

Looking back down at the remaining red tube in his hand, Goblin Slayer made to ask another question—

“ORCBOLG! What the hell are you doing out here!? What was that noise?!” screamed High Elf Archer, who had just appeared around the corner and was now gritting her teeth at the two armored individuals.

Priestess giggled at the scene.

…

The most amazing part of the alchemy shop was the sheer amount of variety it boasted when it came to the numerous liquids and powders that adorned the walls. Each was contained in a glass bottle of varying sizes, likely related to the price and rarity of the material inside.

Priestess gazed around the shop as the three of them approached the alchemist at the front desk. She had never actually been inside the shop before, and she likened it closely to a candy shop in terms of color and variety.

After the demonstration of the weapon and a display of how it worked—interrupted only by a half-drunken rant from High Elf Archer—Goblin Slayer and Priestess had discovered that the weapon fired a plethora of small metallic balls at a very high speed. The balls were so numerous and fired at such a high speed that they tore through nearly anything they were fired at. Priestess was surprised that Goblin Slayer wasn’t jumping for joy at the prospect of killing goblins with it, but he had remained composed and impassive throughout the entire time. In addition, they had also learned the propellant for the weapon was an explosive grayish-black powder, and at Goblin Slayer’s request, the stranger was now accompanying them to the alchemist’s shop to help find a way to procure more.

“Well well, if it isn’t my favorite gasoline-buying customer! How can I help you?” asked the alchemist in a cheery voice as they approached. The man himself was a bit older and sported a rather lengthy beard. Despite the fact that both Goblin Slayer and the stranger were in armor, the shop owner still spared the stranger a confused glance. His armor was most enigmatic.

“Do you sell this powder here?” asked Goblin Slayer, setting down a small bag on the counter.

“Well, let’s see here…” said the alchemist said, finding his glasses and placing them on his face.

Opening the bag carefully, the older man carefully spooned out a bit of the powder into a bowl before examining it carefully. After a few minutes, the man chuckled and shook his head.

“I figured as much. There are only a few types of things that you are interested in. I’m actually quite surprised that you didn’t come for this sooner.”

“You have it?”

“Yes, I certainly do, but not much. Hardly anybody ever really comes and buys it because there’s not much you can do with it. A burning powder? What would anyone ever need that for? Really doesn’t have much use apart from a fire starter.”

“Can you make more?”

“Afraid not, this stuff I get imported from an alchemist in the capital. Bastard charges me an arm and a leg for the stuff instead of just giving me the recipe so I can make it myself. Enough people ask after it that I need to keep a stock, but I never buy much because the damn prices are so high. All I got is about as much as you have in that bag there.”

At his words, the stranger turned and began examining the array of powders on the shelves. Each one was labeled with a name, and they seemed to mean a lot more to the silent stranger than to Priestess. After another minute of looking, the stranger seemed to find what he was looking for. Reaching onto the shelves, the stranger selected three separate bottles and brought them up front. Wordlessly still, he grabbed another spoon and a mixing bowl. Silence fell over the shop as the stranger measured out and mixed a certain amount of each of the three powders into the bowl. He used the spoon with a surprisingly delicate touch, causing Priestess to doubt whether this was the same person who had punched a goblin champion’s head off just a few hours ago.

Finally, the stranger seemed satisfied with his work, measuring out a tiny amount of the powder onto the table. Without warning, the stranger took a nearby candle and held the flame to the mix. The powder instantly ignited.

“Well I’ll be!” said the alchemist with an astonished shake of his head. “It was just a bit of sulfur, charcoal, and saltpeter this whole time!”

“How much for these three bottles?” Goblin Slayer asked flatly.

“Tell you what, for these three? Half-price. Call it a reward for saving me from every having to buy it from that capital thief ever again.”

“Thank you,” Goblin Slayer said, producing the necessary coins from his pocket.

The three of them exited the shop, stopping just outside the door. Goblin Slayer turned and looked at his equally expressionless doppelganger, who stared back. Goblin Slayer nodded.

“Thank you.”

The stranger nodded.

Priestess wasn’t sure how, but she could feel that so much more than just a simple thanks had been communicated by him just now. It was as though they were speaking telepathically on a level the Priestess could never achieve. She jumped slightly when the stranger turned his head to her, but she smiled and bowed slightly.

“Thank you for helping us!”

The stranger nodded once again, then took a step backward. Facing them, he raised his right hand and closed his fingers into a fist with his thumb excepted. The thumb pointed straight upward, and before the Priestess could ask what the gesture meant, the stranger was suddenly engulfed in a bright blue light. A loud bang immediately followed, and Priestess squinted against the intensity of the blue.

As quickly as it started, the light suddenly faded, but the stranger was gone. Priestess’s ears were ringing again, but she was more confused by the sudden disappearance. Had he just used a gate scroll? What was going on?

If Goblin Slayer was surprised by the sudden disappearance, he did not show it. He turned silently to leave.

“W-wait! Goblin Slayer, where are you going?”

“Home,” Goblin Slayer said, stopping for a moment and looking at her over his shoulder. Lightly, he patted his pack, which now contained the powders he had purchased from the shop. Priestess was taken aback as she saw a red glint from between the slates in his helmet.

“There are some ideas that I want to try.”

Notes:

A/N: There it is! I gotta admit, writing this chapter was interesting. When I originally began drafting it, I had no access to the original light novels, and only had the manga and anime to go off. But I ended up finding the light novels and powering through them like a madman. I wanted to make sure that I made the chapter as authentic as possible, so I checked ALL the resources. Even so, I sometimes have a bit of difficulty with truly immersing myself into a universe, so please don't hesitate to point out if a character feels "off" or something doesn't feel right. That goes for all of my writing too. In addition to that, this chapter is very different in that it is the first time that I've thrown the Slayer into Light Novel/Manga/Anime setting. Please let me know what you thought of the chapter, as I am still trying to mesh all the gears together, and any feedback whether good or bad is invaluable. Thanks so much! See you next time!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 19: Gears of War

Notes:

A/N: Heyo! I'm back with a fresh installment of the series. This time, the Slayer has found himself in the Gears of War universe! Not GOD of War, GEARS of War. I just want to clear that up right now. However, please do not be discouraged if you were expecting a God of War chapter, as it is likely to occur in the future. But enough God talk, more Gears talk! Remember that I own nothing, and enjoy!

"Baird, any way we can slow this thing down?"

"Oh, it'll slow right down. When we crash."

Marcus Fenix cursed inwardly and held tightly to the console as the Locust barge slammed into the forest floor. The impact jarred the five Gears on board, and all of them were thrown forward as the barge crashed through trees and dirt.

Marcus tucked his head in tight to avoid whiplash. That is, if he didn't get thrown from the barge first and break his back. All of a sudden, the barge listed to the left as the front corner caught in the dirt, launching Marcus from his standing position at the console and into the air.

Marcus saw a brief image of Dizzy tumbling through the air next to him, then the wind was knocked from his lungs as he landed hard on solid ground, the barge skidded to a stop next to him.

Marcus lay still for a moment, mentally checking his body to see if anything was injured. After a brief self-examination, Marcus concluded that while he was definitely going to be sore tomorrow, he was unscathed.

"Oh, man…" Marcus said with a grunt as he pushed himself up. "Everybody still in one piece?"

Marcus looked over his shoulder to see the rest of Delta Squad scraping themselves off the forest floor.

"Uh…" came Cole's voice from behind. He had propped himself up onto his elbows. "I'll get back to you on that."

Before anyone could say more, an intense white spotlight flooded their vision from up ahead. Marcus turned his head to the source and shielded his eyes with one hand to try and get a better look. Against the stark white ambience of the light, he could just barely make out a few silhouettes approaching the wreckage of the barge.

"Hold your fire!" ordered a voice that Marcus was all-too-familiar with. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Marcus saw none other than Colonel Victor Hoffman, his old superior from days long ago. The two of them had shared a very rocky relationship over the years, but personal matters tended to take a sideline when the extinction of your race was imminent. Marcus decided that in his own way, he was happy to see the colonel.

As Marcus's eyes adjusted, he saw Hoffman approach the group.

"Fenix? What in the hell are you doing here?" the grizzled veteran asked. He held his lancer easily at his side, scanning his eyes over Marcus and the rest of Delta Squad as he spoke.

"There's a column of grubs headin' this way, Colonel," Marcus said pushing himself off the ground as he spoke. His chest still ached from the impact. "Let's get out of here, and I'll explain."

Hoffman read the urgent tone in his voice and turned smartly to address the Gears that accompanied him.

"Okay! Mount up!" he barked, his voice never losing that authoritative tone that compelled others to follow his commands. "Get on the radio and warn the fort we've got grubs inbound!"

The Gears immediately stood-to and mobilized for transport. Hoffman turned back to Marcus and offered his free hand, which Marcus accepted.

…

Not another word was said until they were well on their way back to Anvil Gate. The trucks were putting in serious overtime to get them to the fort in time to prepare for the attack.

"It's been a long time, Fenix," Hoffman said from the driver's seat. Marcus sat in the passenger's seat next to him. Their truck was leading in a column, and it bounced and heaved over the gravel road.

"I'm guessin' you didn't come all this way to inquire about my health."

Marcus quickly explained the situation, how it had turned out that his father was alive after all these years of supposedly being dead. How Chairman Prescott had given him the necessary decryption data to access the disk that Hoffman had been holding on to—just before he died.

Soon they had passed through the front gate of the old fort and parked within the garage. Hoffman killed the engine and turned to Marcus; his expression mirrored what he said next.

"Well, Fenix—I have no goddamn idea what to say. And that's a first for me."

Whatever Hoffman had to say next was immediately cut short by as the fort's alarm pierced the air inside the garage. Marcus turned his head to the noise and immediately heard Bernie's voice in his earpiece.

"Contact! Grubs at the front gate! All personnel to stand-to positions!"

Marcus immediately jumped out of the truck. The rest of Delta Squad jumped out of the back and joined him. Hoffman leapt out of the driver's seat with surprising agility for his age.

"I'll fill you in after we've dealt with our visitors!" Marcus said. Hoffman nodded in return. Already turning his head to give orders to the rest of the Gears.

"Load up and meet me at the front gate. I'll be damned if I let these bastards take this fort!"

Hoffman accessed the radio in his ear as he ran out of the garage.

"Bernie, you're on Ops. Get on the PA system and call it out!"

"Okay. Will do," Bernie replied, her thick islander accent cutting through the radio static.

Marcus hastily refilled his ammunition belt, then followed Hoffman to the front gate. Bernie's voice came through again, but this time through the fort-wide intercom.

"All personnel, stand-to! Hold the front gate, we've got a whole grub battalion out there, people!"

Delta Squad fell in behind Marcus as they reached the ramparts overlooking the front entrance. Marcus immediately had to duck as Locust gunfire peppered the space above him. Hoffman took cover beside him.

"Never seen this many of 'em out here before," Hoffman said in an ironically nonchalant manner.

"Well, I think we might have pissed 'em off. We ran into the queen," Marcus said, momentarily peeking over his cover to fire at a drone below. The monster grunted in pain once before succumbing to its gunshot wounds, and Marcus ducked again as its comrades fired on his position.

"She's alive?! Goddamnit—Fenix, any more shocks you want to share with me?"

"Not yet."

Marcus once again leaned out of cover to fire another burst from his lancer. He was rewarded with a dying grunt of a Locust sniper. He looked over and saw Dom, Baird, and Dizzy doing the same. Cole had taken position in the Troika nest and was currently raining fire down into the seemingly endless Locust wave.

"Marcus," Cole shouted over the noise of the Troika turret. "If we don't hold these gates, the grubs are gonna be all over us!"

Marucs didn't bother to respond, choosing instead to focus on dropping as many grubs as he could.

"Head's up!" Baird shouted. "We got Reavers!"

Sure enough, two of the giant flying nightmares swooped down from the sky. As ugly as they were deadly, the two Reavers landed hard, and stood rather high on their tentacles. This give their riders a much better angle at the defensive positions that Delta Squad was in, spelling trouble for Marcus and his team. Reavers were equipped with explosive artillery, which was a formidable weapon to fight against even when it wasn't strapped onto a giant flying monster. Marcus cursed and covered his head as a round exploded nearby. Delta Squad all ducked their heads as well, one member excepted.

"Whooo! Finally, something big to shoot at!" Cole whooped. With a quick turn of the turret, Cole began spewing bullets at the massive monsters, peppering both the Reavers and their riders with a tide of lead.

The creatures from the Hollow screeched in pain and listed sideways, knocking their riders from their saddles. The fall alone wasn't enough to kill the riders, but the massive Reaver body crushed them as it fell to the ground. The threat ended as quickly as it had come, and Marcus smirked at Cole's child-like enthusiasm, as it was not the first time that it had saved his life. The moment was short-lived however as Dom's voice cut across the gunfire.

"Now we got Grinders! Coming in on the left!"

Marcus looked and sure enough, a small squadron of Grinders had appeared from the tree line. Standing roughly eight feet tall on average, each one was equipped with a Mulcher, a heavy gatling gun developed by the COG back in the Pendulum Wars. Like most weapons the COG had manufactured, some had ended up in the hands of the Locust Horde, wielded specifically by the juggernaut Grinders.

"Focus fire!" Marcus barked, ducking back into cover just as the Grinders began their assault. A sea of bullets spewed overhead from the Mulchers they carried, severely discouraging any idea of peeking out of cover again. With a grunt, Marcus pulled a frag grenade from his gear. Without even looking, Marcus tossed the grenade over the wall in the general direction he thought the Grinders were. Today proved to be his lucky day as the grenade beeped for a split second before exploding. Cries of Locust anguish followed shortly after, meaning that the grenade had struck home. The hail of gunfire faltered as well. Marcus once again leaned out of cover to fire only to see what the next wave brought.

"Ah, shit! Siege Beast!"

The Siege Beast, while still a relatively new addition to the Locust's war machines, still adhered to the horrific trend of strapping machinery onto a creature of the Hollow and using it to kill humans. This time, the poor creature had a massive catapult fitted onto its back, and as Marcus watched, the massive catapult cocked backward and fired its explosive ordinance directly at the gate.

"Incoming!" Dom yelled as he dove away from the incoming projectile. As the ordinance struck, Marcus could hear the screeching of metal as the gate yielded to the catapult's explosive power. The doors bent and burned under the stress, but surprisingly held against the bombardment. Unfortunately, Marcus wasn't sure they would survive another hit like that, and the catapult was already reloading.

"Those gates ain't gonna hold much longer!" came Dizzy's voice from over the gunfire. As if on cue, the catapult fired again, an explosive round arching through the air and striking the already damaged doors to the fort. The heat from the resulting explosion caused Marcus to turn away, but he already knew that the gates had not survived that hit. For the first time in the history of the COG, Anvil Gate had been breached.

"Fall back, they've breached the outer courtyard!" Hoffman's voice crackled from the radio. Marcus looked over as he ran and saw Hoffman grab a Gear by his armor and throw him away from the burning gate. "Come on—move!"

Marcus barely listened as Bernie's voice relayed the status over the intercom, focusing instead on rushing to defend the inner gates. Their second line of defense. He quickly regrouped with the rest of the squad above the second gate, and immediately began firing down on the horde of grubs that poured from the hole in Anvil Gate's defenses.

"I thought nobody got past the defenses here!" Baird shouted, making no effort to hide the irritation in his voice.

"They didn't!" Hoffman replied. "But that was the Pendulum Wars!"

"You still got Hammer of Dawn control, Colonel? You know, the big dangerous one?"

"I do, but the targeting system is screwed. We can't risk it."

Marcus didn't bother to look, but he knew Baird was even more annoyed about the Hammer problems than the grubs breaching the fort. Being the resident mechanic on the squad, Baird was always pissed when things broke, and a heavy weapon like the Hammer of Dawn was a huge disadvantage when it didn't work.

"Grappling hooks!" came Dom's voice from next to Marcus. Sure enough, just after he heard it, Marcus saw grappling hooks appear all along the upper wall where they were holding defense. The grubs were trying to overrun their position.

"Like hell, they are," Marcus growled to himself as he fired up the chainsaw bayonet on his Lancer. Shortly after the emergence of the Locust Horde, the traditional knife bayonet on the Lancer was replaced with a chainsaw bayonet in order to better deal with the tough hide on a grub's body. The weapon had proven effective, and now it was standard issue among COG forces. Well, it was standard issue, but nowadays the remainder of the COG took what they could get.

Revving the bayonet to full power, Marcus sawed through the thick rope that constituted most of the grappling hook. There had been a drone attempting to climb the rope at the time, and there was a satisfying thud as the grub fell back to the ground. The rest of Delta Squad was doing the same, but there were more hooks than there were saws to cut them. Some grubs made it up the wall before they could stop them.

Revving his bayonet again, Marcus ran to the nearest drone that had climbed over the wall and sawed through its torso. Blood spewed everywhere as the chainsaw cut through flesh and bone alike, and as quickly as it had begun, the grub was sawed cleanly in half. It gave a choked grunt as it died, but Marcus paid it no mind. He had already moved on to cut the rope that it had used to climb the wall.

The melee ended quickly as Delta Squad cut through the grubs and the grappling hooks, but there was no respite after, as Locust were still coming through the hole in the gate.

"Maulers inbound!"

Of course.

Now coming through the gate were roughly six of the hulking behemoths, each one equipped with a Boomshield and an explosive flail. Each stood just as tall if not taller than their Grinder counterparts and were much wider. Marcus immediately opened fire on the behemoths, but they instantly responded by ducking down behind their massive shields, leaving virtually no openings to shoot at despite their bulk.

"Yo, bitches! Put those shields down and just let me kill ya!" Cole shouted at the slowly approaching Maulers. Marcus spared a glance and saw that the former thrashball player was already swinging a frag grenade in his hand. Even he slung the grenade at the Maulers, Cole continued to taunt the encroaching enemy.

"Hey! I promise I'll kill ya fast! The Cole Train's humane, bitch!"

With comedic timing, the grenade then exploded right in the middle of the Maulers' formation, making mincemeat of all but two of the Boomshield wielding foes. The remaining two Maulers roared with anger at their fallen brethren and rushed toward the inner gate with renewed vigor.

"Come on! Drop 'em!" Marcus yelled as more Maulers appeared through the hole to take the place of those that had fallen.

"Yeah, we're dropping 'em! But they've invited all their cousins!" came Baird's reply as he fired at a Mauler's exposed flank.

The situation was dire, but then again, how many times had Marcus and the others found themselves facing impossible odds? It wasn't like this was anything new. Their death always seemed just around the corner, but this somehow felt different. Anvil Gate was one of humanity's last strongholds, and there was nowhere left to run now.

Marcus took aim at another Mauler, but before he could pull the trigger, a bright red beam burst from outside the courtyard and blew the Mauler to pieces, Boomshield and all. Marcus frowned incredulously at the sight, and as he watched, more beams emerged from outside the front gate, blasting Maulers and Drones alike. In the span of a few seconds, the grub presence was eliminated from the courtyard, and any remaining pieces were decaying rapidly into dust. Likely a side effect from whatever that beam-thing was.

"Bernie! What in the hell is out there?" Hoffman barked into the radio.

"I'm picking up footage now, Vic. I can't see it clearly, but whatever it is, it's killing all the grubs! It's broken their line!"

"Hear that, Gears? We got 'em on the ropes out there! Everyone back to the ramparts! We're burying these bastards!"

There was hardly any hesitation as the Gears rallied and charged back to defend the front gate. Hoffman pulled up alongside Marcus as he ran.

"This another one of your surprises, Fenix?"

"Not this time, Colonel…" Marcus said as they reached the ramparts. Marcus surveyed the scene down below to discover that Bernie was correct. The entire Locust offensive formation had been broken, and now the grubs had turned their attention away from the fort and were all trying to shoot something that Marcus couldn't see. The Siege Beast lay on its side at the edge of the battlefield, damaged beyond repair. Suddenly, Marcus saw a figure burst from behind the toppled catapult and charge headfirst into the Locust Horde. Holding a shotgun in its hands, the figure lunged for the closest group. When it was close enough, the figure fired the shotgun, bursting the skull of the nearest Drone, then grabbed the body before it could fall and hurled it at the others. The body crashed into the other nearby Drones, scattering them and knocking them off their feet. The figure disposed of them as well before turning to the next group.

"Whooo!" Cole piped up. "The Cole Train is gonna have to practice that move for the next highlight reel!"

"This guy's bought us a distraction, boys!" Hoffman yelled with vigor. "Let's finish these bastards while they're down!"

At his words, the Gears rained fire down upon the discombobulated Locust Horde. What followed was nothing short of a massacre. The grubs had been so focused on killing their new foe that they neglected to take cover from the Gears within the fort. The price for their mistake was now being paid in blood as more and more of their number fell dead.

As for the figure, Marcus occasionally glanced its way to see that it was having no issue tearing its way through the grub ranks. It's strength and agility were a force to be reckoned with, and Marcus watched in awe as it easily overpowered and outmaneuvered the grubs with ease.

"Marcus, just what the hell is that guy down there?" Dom asked so that only Marcus could hear.

"I dunno," Marcus replied as he dropped another grub. "But it's killing grubs, so that puts it on my nice list."

"Good enough for me!" Dizzy said from Marcus's other side. Dom didn't seem to share Dizzy's enthusiasm, but he seemed content enough with the answer.

…

The last grub died beneath the figure's boot as it walked through the open gate into the fort at Anvil Gate. Delta Squad, with Hoffman at the lead, walked out to meet it, and Marcus got an up-close look at it for the first time. The gear that it was wearing was different in design than anything Marcus had seen before. Its armor didn't seem all that extravagant, but the helmet it wore gave it a mysterious aura that told Marcus that there was more to this figure than it seemed. The green color of its armor almost made Marcus think it was Gorasni, but even the Indies didn't have gear like what the stranger was wearing.

"Well well, I'd be lyin' if I said I've seen something quite like you," Hoffman said, holding out his hand. The figure took it and shook without a word.

"Not much of a talker? Well…shit. Normally I'd be pissed about that type of behavior, but I can't get too pissed off when you just saved our bacon back there."

"Fuckin' bacon…" Baird grumbled with a scowl. Cole elbowed him in the ribs.

"That looks like it was the last of 'em. For a while, anyway," Dom said.

"Yeah, probably just long enough to get rid of the smell of rotting grub," Baird added. Introductions were made, or what passed for introductions seeing as how the unnamed soldier didn't speak at all.

"Colonel," Marcus said, turning away from the newcomer. "We better have that talk now."

…

"Well that's downright unbelievable!" Hoffman said as he led Delta Squad into the Operations Center of the fort. "Even for that asshole! …So, this thing your dad's invented—it'll kill off the Lambent? What about the rest of the grubs?"

"No guarantees," Marcus said with a shake of his head. "Just because they turn into Lambent doesn't mean it'll work on 'em."

"Shame about the Hammer. It's just what we need…" Baird said. He was currently checking over a few control systems at the main console. After a moment, he shook his head and walked over to where Marcus and Hoffman were standing.

"Goddamn thing!" Hoffman cursed. "It still triggers a few satellites, but forget about accuracy!"

"Hmmm," Baird said, more to himself than to the others. "Maybe I can fix that…"

There was a loud clank of metal as the door to the Operations Center opened and in came Bernie. Though she was showing signs of age like Hoffman, she still held the air of command that all Gears respected.

"Bernie, you are not gonna believe this shit!" Hoffman said.

"It'll have to wait, Vic," Bernie said with a dismissive wave of her hand. She spared a momentary glance at the stranger, who had wrested a nearby Gear's Lancer rifle from his hands and was currently examining the design.

"Hey!" the Gear said in annoyance. "Give that—"

A look from the stranger immediately silenced him, and he backed away carefully. Bernie turned back to address the others.

"Is anyone monitoring the radio net? It's Sam and Anya. They're pinned down outside the perimeter!"

"We're on it, Bernie," Marcus said with a nod. "Come on, people, lock and load."

"I'll get someone to drive the truck for ya," Hoffman said as everyone mobilized for combat.

Bernie spared another glance at the stranger as it ran by, Lancer still in hand. She caught Baird's arm as he continued to work on the Hammer.

"What? Did I miss something, Blondie?"

"Uh…" Baird obviously didn't feel like telling the story from his tone.

"I'll…let him fill you in," he said, gesturing to Hoffman. "Just keep an eye on his blood pressure. Stay calm, deep breaths, that kind of stuff, okay?"

Bernie frowned at the response but decided that she wasn't going to get a better one, and she choose instead to follow Delta Squad rather than pester Baird for an answer.

"Dom, you and Bernie get up on the wall and give us some cover fire," Marcus ordered as the group entered the garage. "You two, with me."

Everyone wordlessly nodded and hurried to their positions. Dom and Bernie took the nearby stairs up to the wall defenses, and the stranger, Cole and Marcus climbed into the back of the truck. The driver had already started the engine. As soon as they were on board, the truck took off.

Marcus accessed his radio.

"Anya, we're coming to get you. Are you okay? Where's Jace?"

"We're pinned down," came Anya's voice over the static. "Jace isn't here. He's on his way with Carmine."

"Okay, Anya, hold on!"

The truck gunned the engine and turned the corner once outside the gate. As they drew closer, Marcus saw a brigade of grubs closing in on a downed Packhorse—the COG's very own armored Humvee.

"We've got you covered from up here, Marcus," came Dom's voice from his ear piece. "Go get 'em."

"Yo, I see the ladies—behind the Packhorse!" Cole said enthusiastically.

Marcus could see that he was right, but as he surveyed the scene, he saw a disturbance in the dirt. Something was moving underground, and it was coming closer and closer to the truck…

"Look out! Digger!"

But it was too late, the live ordinance burst from the ground and exploded on the driver's side of the truck. The vehicle immediately lost control, and Marcus, Cole and the stranger were hurled from the truck as it fell onto its side.

Marcus hit the ground hard and saw stars. All sensory output was fuzzy for a few moments, but Marcus could still hear Sam and Anya calling to him, telling him to get up. Marcus groaned and struggled to his feet. He looked to his left to see a downed Gear being set upon by a Locust Grenadier. With a malicious grunt, the monster reached down and ripped the Gear's arm from his body, causing him to cry out in pain from beneath his helmet.

"Jynx!"

With another roar, the Grenadier beat the Gear mercilessly with his own severed arm. The Gear twitched a few times before he stopped moving. Marcus growled in anger, but before he could bring his rifle to bear, the stranger was already on the scene.

Before the Grenadier had time to react, the figure plunged its hands into the creature's chest, evoking an anguished roar from the monster. In the next instant, the stranger pulled its hands away from each other, ripping the Grenadier's body in half down the middle, silencing it forever. The stranger then wasted no time setting its sights on the nearby Savage Boomer that wielded the Digger Launcher. Marcus knew that the Boomer would not last long against the stranger, so he turned to Sam and Anya.

"Come on, fall back to the fort!"

Sam, Anya, and Cole wordlessly complied, and Marcus turned back to see the stranger wrench the Digger Launcher from the Boomer's grasp and fire it point-blank into the hulking creature. The small Digger-Creature burst from the weapon and began burrowing into the Boomer's flesh, causing the Boomer to cry out and writhe in pain. After burrowing deep into the creature's body, the Digger exploded from within, rendering the Boomer's body into ground beef. The stranger seemed satisfied and turned to Marcus.

"Cover our tail! We're falling back to the fort!"

The stranger nodded and took up its new Lancer. Marcus turned and ran to catch up with the others as they sprinted for the gate. Marcus heard a rumble to his right. A moment later, a Lambent stalk burst from the ground. As thick as a redwood, and arching nearly as high, Lambent monsters immediately began pouring from the stalk. More stalks sprouted nearby.

"Shit Marcus! Now the Lambent are joining the party!"

"Just keep running!" Marcus yelled as Lambent forces opened fire on their new moving targets. Marcus heard the sound of a chainsaw revving behind him, signifying the stranger's engagement with the Lambent forces. It was making good use of its new weapon. Another stalk burst from the ground nearby.

"Baird!" Marcus yelled into his radio. "We're being overrun with Lambent! Bring the Hammer online!"

"Okay, but you'd better get in here! We don't have full control!"

Shit…

"Just fire it up!"

Marcus ran full tilt toward the open gate where two Gears were suppressing fire to cover their entrance. Just as Marcus thought they were going to make it, another stalk popped up right next to the gate.

"Uhhhhh, Marcus?! That don't look good!" Cole shouted. As if egged on by his words, the stalk spewed out a massive Lambent creature, larger than all the rest.

Standing at least eleven feet tall, the hulking monster sported arms and legs that were the size of tree trunks. Its hide was thick, with a bright yellow light showing through in certain areas. It was a constant reminder of the Imulsion that coursed through all Lambent creatures. As if the creature didn't look scary enough, four bladed tentacles sprouted from its back, each one as long as a car and as thick as Marcus's arm.

It was a Lambent Berserker.

The creature roared, which came out as a piercing scream, and set upon the two Gears at the gate, tearing through them like tissue paper. It then turned to Marcus and the group, setting its sights on the remaining humans. Roaring again, the Lambent 'Zerker hefted the truck the Gears had been using and hurled it towards the group.

"Look out!" Marcus said as he made to dive out of the way. But the truck never hit him. In a split second, the stranger was there again, and it braced itself and caught the truck with its gauntleted hands. The force of the impact caused the stranger to skid backwards a foot or so, but it held its ground. With a seemingly small effort, the stranger braced itself underneath the truck and heaved, sending the vehicle flying back to the Lambent 'Zerker, who swatted it away with its giant hand and charged directly at the stranger. Marcus recovered from his roll and opened fire on the massive creature, but the bullets were nothing compared to the thick hide the Lambent 'Zerker sported. Standard weapons were useless.

"Goddamn! You an ugly bitch!" Cole shouted as the Lambent 'Zerker clashed with the stranger, lashing out ferally as the armored solider ducked and weaved through its blows.

"Baird! Where's the damn Hammer!?"

"It's firing—now!"

As Baird's voice came over the radio, red beams rained down from the sky, scorching all in their path. The Hammer of Dawn was firing. The beams were tracking the Lambent 'Zerker, each slowly converging on its position. When they all converged, whatever was underneath got toasted.

"Everybody, run! Get to the fort!" Marcus bellowed. He looked back and saw the stranger deliver a solid uppercut to the Lambent 'Zerker, buying them precious seconds as the monster staggered backward from the force of the blow. The stranger then turned and caught up to them, getting inside just as Marcus slammed the gate control, closing the gate and trapping the Lambent 'Zerker outside.

Marcus watched from the courtyard as the beams finally converged, and there was a loud shrieking noise as the lasers all combined into one giant death ray on the Lambent 'Zerker's position. Marcus could feel the heat even from inside the gates.

The laser burned for a few more moments, then the beam disappeared. The Hammer of Dawn was offline. All fell silent as the light from the beam faded.

"Did we fry that bitch?" Cole asked cheekily with a grin. Sam let out a breath she had been holding.

"Looks that way."

Marcus turned away from the gate to address Delta Squad.

"Alright, everybody get inside. We've got unfinished business to—"

An ear-splitting puound came from the other side of the gate, and the gate itself caved inward slightly. Another pound came, and the gate yielded a little more. Another pound came, then another, then another…

"What the hell? —"

The night lapsed into silence for a brief second, then there was a loud shriek, and the Lambent 'Zerker jumped over the wall and into the courtyard. Its body was red hot from the Hammer, but it only added to its horrific form. It was still alive.

The Lambent 'Zerker roared again and charged at Delta Squad, but not before Marcus noticed something strange. As he dove out of the way, he saw that when the beast had charged, its rib cage had opened, exposing some sort of glowing chest cavity beneath the hard chitin.

"The hell is that flappy thing in her chest?!" Cole yelled as he recovered from his roll.

The Lambent 'Zerker stopped its charge, but before she could turn to charge again, the stranger produced a weapon that Marcus had never seen before. The stranger carried it in two hands, and it was forked at the end while humming with a powerful red light. Without a moment's hesitation, the stranger fired the weapon, and a bright-red beam burst from the forked end and struck the Lambent 'Zerker directly on her shoulder. Marcus then recognized it as the weapon from the battle earlier. The impact from the weapon was obviously powerful, as the beast roared and staggered from the impact, and like with the Maulers from before, the area around the shot began to decay. However, the effect appeared to have diminished greatly against the Lambent 'Zerker's tough skin, as the effected area remained relatively small and did not burn through much chitin at all. So much for that plan.

The Lambent 'Zerker roared and charged again, and again Marcus noticed that the chest cavity exposed itself before she charged.

"Ugh!" Baird said, obviously grossed out. He dove out of the way just in time as the beast flew past him.

"Looks like her ribs opening. Okay, that's gotta be a weak spot! Aim for it!"

Marcus didn't need to be told twice. Marcus took aim and waited patiently.

"Don't shoot until she's up close!" he shouted.

"Yeah, you get cozy with her!" Baird replied over the Lambent 'Zerker's cry. "I'll stand back."

Marcus knew Baird was just being his sarcastic self, but the stranger seemed to take the idea to heart, putting its beam weapon away and charging straight for the Lambent 'Zerker. The beast turned around and made to charge again, exposing her chest cavity like before. In a flash, the stranger drew its fist back and plunged it deep into the monster's exposed chest. The Lambent 'Zerker reacted immediately, crying out in pain and falling down on her back. She began writhing and twitching violently, but the stranger kept its fist lodged deep into her core, twisting its arm to ensure the damage had been done.

"Get back!" Marcus yelled. "She's gonna blow!"

The stranger either didn't hear him or didn't care, as it chose to remain where it was, staring down from atop the Lambent 'Zerker as she continued to cry out in pain. The rest of Delta Squad dove for cover just as the monster went nuclear, engulfing both her and the stranger in a rather sizeable explosion.

Pieces of the Lambent 'Zerker rained down all around Marcus as the night fell into silence again. When he looked up, he saw the smoke beginning to clear from ground zero, and the stranger emerged from the thinning cloud, showing no signs of damage from the point-blank explosion that it had just tanked. Delta Squad walked up to meet it, somewhat shocked that whatever this thing was had just survived an explosion like that.

Baird, as usual, was the first to break the silence.

"So…how was it for you?"

The stranger looked at Baird, but its attention was immediately diverted as a spark fizzled from its right gauntlet. Raising its arm to inspect it, Marcus could see that it was covered in Imulsion. Likely due to the fact that it had been buried deep in a Lambent 'Zerker's gut not a few seconds ago.

The gauntlet sparked again with a hiss, and though Marcus couldn't see the stranger's face, but its posture portrayed a confused expression.

The gauntlet sparked once more, and the stranger was suddenly engulfed in a bright blue light. A loud bang echoed through the courtyard, and Marcus squinted and covered his eyes against the piercing light that stabbed the darkness. After a brief moment, the light went out, but when Marcus looked again, the stranger was gone.

"Uhhhhh…yeah. Everybody saw that, right?" Baird asked incredulously.

"How the hell could we miss something like that?" Dom retorted with a hint of annoyance in his voice. Despite the slight abrasiveness, Marcus knew that none of them, himself included, had any idea what the hell just happened. Seeing no use worrying about it, Marcus shook his head and let it be. They had more urgent matters.

"Are we done here? Come on, Baird. We got a job to do."

Marcus spared one final glance to where the stranger had been standing mere moments ago, then turned and strode back into the fort, Delta Squad followed behind.

Notes:

A/N: Another one for the books, my friends! I've been with Gears since the beginning, and I knew that this chapter was probably going to happen sooner or later. Now that I'm back into the status quo, hopefully I can start pumping out chapters on a more regular basis. As always, please don't hesitate to leave a review as to how the story is going so far. All positivity and negativity is accepted with open arms! Until next time!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 20: Dead Space

Notes:

A/N: Pitter Patter, let's get at 'er! Welcome back ladies and gentlemen to another chapter in my steadily expanding universe. As some of you may have already guessed, this chapter involves the Doom Slayer infiltrating the Dead Space, and he's about to liven things up a little bit. The USG Ishimura is about to turn into a warzone! Remember that I own neither of these franchises, and enjoy!

Chapter 18

 

The woman’s slight giggles echoed throughout the otherwise silent halls. Each cackle bounced down the metal hallways until they faded from hearing. The woman herself was seated on the floor, propped up with her back against a metal crate and her legs spread out in front of her. Her long blonde hair was done up neatly in a bun, and her uniform was clean with the exception of a few bloodstains. Relatively speaking, she was well kempt.

The scene around her told a different story. Blood splatters covered the walls and floor in copious amounts, including the puddle she was currently sitting in. The blood had been supplied by the various other bodies that littered the room, all of which were dead. Though most of the blood was spilt in a haphazard pattern, some had been used to scribble phrases and drawings on any available surface. Some phrases could be made out, relaying cryptic messages of reckoning and despair, while some may as well have been written in another language. Even further, some scribbles appeared to hold no more meaning than what their name implied. They had only been scribbled for scribbles’ sake. A few lit candles sat around the room as well, casting the already haunting scene into an even more horrific filter.

The woman took all of this in with half-lidded eyes, her giggling now evolving into whole-hearted laughter. She became louder, and her body shook with each laugh she let out. It was as though she had heard the funniest joke in all her life. Absentmindedly, she reached out with her right hand and fumbled for the object that she had laid on the floor next to her. Wrapping her fingers around the object, the woman’s cackling grew to a fever pitch. She snorted due to the intensity of the laughter now, but it only seemed to make her laugh more as she placed the object under her chin.

Her laughter abruptly cut out as her head exploded. The object clattered to the floor as she went limp, but it was no concern of her’s anymore. She no longer needed it, as it had served its final purpose to her.

Isaac had watched the scene unfold with horror, and now, he stood frozen in shock and despair at the woman’s headless corpse as it slumped to the floor. He had tried to reach out and stop her when she picked up the gun, but he had not reacted quickly enough. Now, she was just another corpse on the USG Ishimura, and unfortunately for Isaac, there was only one thing he could do to help her now.

Taking out his plasma-cutter-now-turned-Necromorph-dismemberer, Isaac expended four rounds to remove the deceased woman’s limbs from her body. He did the same to the other bodies in the room. Doing so may have been considered desecrating the corpses, but Isaac knew that if he left them as they were, he would condemn them to a fate far worse than death and dismemberment. These flying “Infector” forms, as Isaac had learned to call them, would attempt to turn a corpse into a Necromorph as long as it at least had one limb still remained, no matter if the head was still attached or not.

Isaac stepped back as he finished cutting the limbs from the corpses, honored the dead with a brief moment of silence, then leaned down and picked up a small Nav card from a puddle of blood. That was the last one, and Isaac sighed from inside his helmet as he inspected the card in his hand.

He turned to leave, tucking the Nav card safely into his suit with the other two, but he was stopped short as someone opened up a communications link with his RIG. Isaac was expecting Kendra with a status report, but the voice that came through was a far less welcome one. It belonged to Dr. Challus Mercer, one of the few surviving members of the Ishimura’s Crew, and the one who had been trying to kill Isaac ever since he stepped on board.
“This time there will be no escape for you, my friend. You have been most resourceful up until now, but my creation is free, reborn in the fierce heat of life itself! Now it's time to play your part...”

His creation? Oh shi…

Isaac instinctively ran as the air vent above him burst open. Isaac did not need to turn around, as he already knew from its distinctive roar what had come through. It was a Necromorph, but not just any Necromorph. No, this one was a personal creation of Dr. Mercer himself, a Necromorph with a regenerative ability that canceled out any damage Isaac could do to it.

The Hunter.

Standing at least a head taller than Isaac, the beast was a frightening sight even without its regenerative abilities. Like most Necromorph variants, two absurdly long arms sprouted from its shoulder blades, each one turning into a sharp blade made of bone at the end. The blades themselves were ideal for cutting through humans, and that made them rather bothersome for Isaac. Like all Necromorphs, the Hunter too had once been human, but it was difficult to realize that truth when Isaac saw its form. It had been mutated beyond recognizability, and the only characteristic that it shared with humans now was that it walked on two legs.

Accessing the door in front of him, Isaac frantically ducked into the lounge. A place that the residents of Block C must have once used to relax after a long day.

If only…

As Isaac ran into the room, his RIG comms opened up again, and he was thankful to hear Kendra’s voice.

“Isaac, that son of a bitch just overrode the door lock! Hang on, I’ll try to run a bypass!”

Perfect.

That meant that Isaac was now stuck in the lounge with the Hunter, and from the screeching he could hear from the vents, they were about to have company. Isaac danced backward as the Hunter made to slash at him, and he took out his plasma cutter again. With an aim that had grown steadily better during his time on this god-forsaken ship, Isaac placed two shots directly into the monster’s right leg, severing the limb and causing the Hunter to crash to the ground. For good measure, Isaac emptied two more shots into its left leg, crippling it even further. Without any wasted time, Isaac then activated his stasis module and cast it onto the already regenerating creature. A blue glow enshrouded the beast, slowing its personal time to a crawl. Now not only did it now move at the speed of a snail, but its regeneration did as well, giving Isaac time to deal with the oncoming Necromorphs before it healed.

As Isaac turned, a Slasher jumped down from the vents above, immediately followed by a Lurker, a smaller but no less annoying Necromorph variant. Isaac immediately switched to his line gun, another mining tool-turned-weapon, and fired at the Lurker as three ropy tentacles sprouted from its back. His timing had been perfect, and the long plasma bolt cut through all three tentacles at once, killing the Lurker in the process.

With no time to feel good about his efficient kill, Isaac jumped out of the way as the slasher charged at him. He switched weapons once more, pulling out the RC-DS. Short for Remote Control Disk Saw, this was yet another mining tool that Isaac had used his engineering skills to mold into a Necromorph killing machine. However, this weapon was different from the plasma cutter and line gun, as it was originally designed to saw through tough rock at a somewhat safe distance. Basic operation involved pointing the RC-DS at the rock you intended to cut through and pulling the trigger. A disk saw would then extend from the main body and spin at roughly 17,000 RPM at a set distance away, which was maintained by a miniature gravity tether outfitted to the main body of the tool. Despite the distance between the user and the rock that needed cut, the RC-DS was still an unsafe machine for beginners to handle, as the speed of the blade combined with its relatively few safety features made it all too easy for young miners to lose fingers or even entire limbs while operating it.

Isaac, however, was anything but inexperienced, and he had quickly discovered that the RC-DS cut through Necromorphs with great ease compared to rock and minerals. This had earned it a spot as one of his go-to weapons for close range, as a few seconds of contact with the saw once it was fired would render all but the toughest Necromorphs into a pile of ground meat.

Which is exactly what it did. The Slasher that had charged Isaac fell into a bloody pulp on the floor, and only when it stopped twitching did Isaac cease his intense saw-cutting. Looking over his shoulder, Isaac saw that the stasis effect on the Hunter was wearing off, and the beast had almost completely regenerated severed legs. Isaac spared a glance at the door to see that Kendra still had yet to bypass the door lock. He was still trapped with the Hunter, and he could hear more Necromorphs moving through the vents.

With a grunt of disdain, Isaac fired another sawblade and sliced through all four limbs of the Hunter, which roared in pain and fell again. Isaac held the blade steady as he continued slicing and lacerating he monster’s body as it regrew. It was quickly turning into a competition as Isaac struggled to keep the limbs from regenerating with the saw. They were regrowing almost as fast as he could cut them off, and he knew that he would either have to run or use his stasis module again when the RC-DS needed to be reloaded. Or if he had to turn and contend with more Necromorphs.

Suddenly, his RIG comms opened again, and Kendra’s voice came through.

“Okay, I bypassed the lock! Get out of there!”

Isaac didn’t need to be told twice. Turning on his heel, he bolted for the door to the cargo lift as it slid open. He punched the button, and the doors slid closed just as the Necromorphs began poured from the vents.

Isaac breathed a sigh of relief but was instantly back on alert as another voice came through his comms.

“Excellent work Mr. Clarke! Now…come and meet me in the Executive area. The door is unlocked. Be quick.”

That voice belonged to none other than Dr. Kyne, who was a survivor from the ship like Dr. Mercer. But unlike Mercer, Dr. Kyne seemed more willing to help Isaac than his devout counterpart. Despite that, the doctor seemed to be obsessed with the artifact, the…Marker that Isaac kept hearing about. He had said that he wanted to return it, and he desperately had implored Isaac to help him. Isaac wasn’t sure as to whether he could trust Dr. Kyne or not, and Kendra echoed his concerns as she contacted him through his RIG.

“Isaac, be careful with Dr. Kyne. A lot of what I have discovered so far has come from his records…the man has clearly gone insane. He might be unstable, maybe even violent…”

Isaac recalled the video log he had seen earlier. Dr. Kyne had attempted to sedate the captain but had ended up piercing his cranium with the syringe instead. Whether or not he had meant to, the blood of the Ishimura’s captain was on Kyne’s hands.

“And Isaac, I’m not sure what it is, but something is happening on the other side of the ship. I can hear it from here. Whatever it is, it’s making a lot of noise and drawing the Necromorphs to it. I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing, but just be careful.”

Isaac frowned and thought about what she had said.

Something is drawing the Necromorphs away? Was it another survivor? Or were the monsters planning something?

Isaac’s thoughts immediately drifted to Nicole, who was still somewhere on board the ship. He had seen her with his own eyes, but he could not reach her. They had parted ways reluctantly, but Isaac knew that if she had survived that long, then she could survive just a little bit longer. She was tough.

Isaac smiled fondly.

The doors to the lift opened, and Isaac stepped into the Executive area. As he walked in, he saw a man standing with his back to him, too engrossed in his own thoughts to notice the sound of Isaac entering the room. As Isaac drew closer, the man began to pace, and his muttering grew louder.

“Amelia, I knew that you would know what to do, I knew…I love you so…”

The man stopped his pacing and seemingly noticed Isaac for the first time. The man turned toward Isaac, relief flooding his features, and Isaac gazed upon Dr. Kyne in person for the first time.

“You made it!” Dr. Kyne said, relief dripping from his words. “Thank god, you made it…”

The doctor took a few breaths to steady himself, then continued.

“I’ve been following your progress. I know you want to repair the Executive shuttle and leave this place, but…escape is impossible at this point. The shuttle’s shockpoint drive is destroyed!”

Son of a…

“No no no no no! Don’t lose hope!” Dr. Kyne quickly added, throwing his hands out in what Isaac supposed was an attempt at a soothing gesture.

“Don’t…lose hope. At first…at first I lost hope…”

The doctor began to pace again, speaking almost more to himself than Isaac, who watched him quietly. Isaac doubted he could get a word in even if he wanted to.

“I tried to scuttle the ship, sabotage the systems…but Amelia…she changed things.”

Isaac had no idea who this Amelia person was supposed to be, but he let the mad doctor continue his ramblings.

“The church!” Dr. Kyne suddenly cried out, anger creeping into his voice. “They think the Marker is divine, but they don’t know what’s happened here! What’s been released! Look, look, look…look at this…”

Dr. Kyne fumbled with his RIG for a moment before a holo-vid sprung to life between the two of them. At first, all Isaac could see was a man on the screen, then suddenly, the man ran as the camera focused on a massive creature that had appeared over the horizon. Isaac couldn’t get the best estimate from the video, but the monster must have been at least as tall as a skyscraper. Maybe even bigger…

Isaac was glad that he had his helmet to cover his shocked expression.

“That is what we found…” Dr. Kyne said as the video disappeared. “…in the core of the planet…Mercer calls it the Hive Mind. It’s the source…controlling the Necromorphs telepathically. We were so STUPID! But Amelia, she knew! She knew it could be stopped…by returning the Marker to the planet! The Marker was containing it within the planet. Return the Marker, and we seal the Hive Mind!”

Dr. Kyne’s voice then dropped to a whisper. Isaac could barely hear him. It was as though the doctor had suddenly lost all of his strength. He began to pace again.

“Please…I’m sorry Amelia…I bear much of the responsibility for this tragedy. Now, I must take responsibility for ending it, and atone for my sins. But you can help me…”

Doctor Kyne weakly pointed to Isaac.

“If you repair the shuttle and bring the Marker back on board…We can end this. Forever.”

Dr. Kyne then gestured to a door at the back of the room. Isaac followed his finger, then wordlessly strode away, leaving the doctor behind.

Kendra was right, the doctor was clearly insane. But if what he said was true, if they could truly end this threat by returning the Marker to the planet. Then Isaac had no choice but to try. He knew that if this infestation somehow made it to Earth…he didn’t even want to think about it.

The door led to another cargo lift, which Isaac took to the shuttle bay. He encountered no Necromophs along the way, and he again wondered if he should be relieved or worried. Either way, Isaac made sure to make the most of the time he had now. Rushing into the shuttle, Isaac inserted the Nav cards and began programming the preflight sequence.

Suddenly, he began to hear noises coming from the way he came. He instantly recognized the sounds of Necromorph screams from the cargo lift, and he immediately raised his plasma cutter, all three lasers pointing at the door. There were a few loud bangs from behind the door, then everything fell silent.

Then, the door opened. And out stepped a humanoid figure in a green suit of armor. The lift behind the figure showed signs of a Necromorph massacre, and the figure itself was covered with Necromorph blood.

The figure locked its gaze on Isaac immediately, and Isaac got a sudden shiver as the suit stared him down. The sights of the plasma cutter were still focused intently on its chest, and Isaac breathed for a moment before slowly lowering his weapon.

Just who is this? Did one of the personnel onboard the Valor survive after all? No…that can’t be right…the armor doesn’t match. Is this the person that the Necromorphs were drawn to?

Isaac had been so rattled by the stranger’s appearance that he failed to notice that the stranger too had a weapon, which it held close by its side. Isaac leaned to get a closer look and saw with surprise that though it looked like an ordinary bullet rifle, it appeared to have a chainsaw in place of a bayonet. Isaac’s surprise quickly turned into thoughtfulness, however, as he quickly pictured how useful a chainsaw bayonet could be. The effectiveness of it could be argued however, as that weapon most likely weighed a ton. Not only was it a large automatic rifle, but it also had a chainsaw integrated into its chassis, meaning that the wielder was carrying the weight of a rifle and a chainsaw at the same time. That would make you tire quickly.

As the stranger approached Isaac, however, he noted that this mysterious person appeared to have no issues with handling the weapon’s above average weight.

The stranger stopped just a few feet from Isaac, and they both sized each other up. Isaac supposed they were both roughly the same height, but in terms of gear, Isaac couldn’t help but feel outclassed. They both wore helmets that obstructed their views of each other’s faces, but the stranger’s armor almost seemed to radiate indestructibility. It clearly wasn’t like the RIG that Isaac was wearing, as it carried no health indicator on the back, and was of an entirely different make and model than anything Isaac had ever seen.

Neither of them felt the need to speak, and Isaac was surprisingly okay with that. They both seemed to understand the situation that they were in, and though Isaac doubted that the stranger knew about the Marker or their plan to return it, he was sure that Dr. Kyne would be more than happy to explain it again.

Looking over the figure again, Isaac decided for simplicity’s sake to just assume that there was a man under that suit. If his guess was incorrect, he or she could beat him up for it later. Either way, it still didn’t change the fact that the figure seemed to impose badassery onto Isaac as he continued his work on the shuttle. He couldn’t quite explain it, but he just knew that this stranger didn’t take shit from anyone, and if anyone crossed his path, they would not live to regret it. Isaac was now 99 percent sure that this guy was the thing that all the Necromorphs had been drawn to. They seemed to sense living aura, and this guy’s was overwhelming. Isaac imagined with some humor that the two of them together probably stood out like a beacon to the undead swarming throughout the ship.

Wait a second…

Isaac jumped up just as the first Necromorph scream came from the vents. Then in the span of a second, the screams were all around as Necromorph after Necromorph surged from every possible entrance to the hanger. Isaac had never seen so many in one place.

Switching to his line gun again, Isaac instinctively stood back to back against the stranger, and before the two of them could exchange a look, the Necromorphs were upon them.

What happened next could only be described as the goriest minutes of Isaac’s life. The stranger had turned into nothing short of a whirlwind of destruction. Using the rifle in combination with the chainsaw bayonet to drop the Necromorphs as quickly as they came. Isaac didn’t know wheather the stranger knew to target the limbs or not, but it didn’t matter. The stranger ripped most of the Necromorphs apart anyway. It seemed to be his fighting style. Whatever the Necromorphs dished out, the stranger gave back tenfold. It was as though it was personal for the stranger, and even though it looked as though he had declared war on the Necromorphs, Isaac saw it more as one-sided extermination.

That was not to say that Isaac stood idly by. No, the Necromorphs were pressing in on all sides, and that meant that Isaac was dead if he didn’t fight back. He himself kept himself alive by switching weapons when one ran out of ammo. It was far quicker than reloading, as he knew that if he stopped to reload, the Necromorphs would overwhelm him. The stranger gauged Isaac’s abilities well, and always seemed to know when to come to his aid when it seemed like the monsters were going to breach his defense.

Before Isaac new it, the Necromorphs stopped pouring in, and the two of them were cleaning up any survivors among the bodies. Arms, legs, and torsos littered the floor from the bloodshed they had both imparted, even though Isaac knew that most of the bodies had been the stranger’s doing, not his. It was like the stranger was made to kill Necromorphs, and his passion when doing so was unparalleled.

Isaac suddenly heard an all-to-familiar roar from the other end of the hanger. The Hunter had returned.

The beast was lurching toward them, not running but approaching fast enough. Isaac could see its glowing eyes, and he wondered if even the stranger would be able to keep it at bay for long…

Isaac’s eyes widened as the stranger suddenly pulled another weapon out. It was more modern in its design over the previous one, as it glowed with a vibrant red energy. Isaac realized that the weapon closely resembled the schematics for a mass-driver, which were the weapons used by ADS systems on ships such as these to blast apart incoming asteroids.

The stranger fired the weapon, and a bright red beam burst forth, blasting the Hunter in half down the middle.

Holy shit, it IS a miniature mass driver.

There could be no other explanation as to how a weapon of that design worked. But Isaac was even more surprised as he stared at the two pieces of the Hunter. Instead of beginning to reform, the Hunter’s body was now undergoing a disintegration. Starting from the point of severance, the organic mass that constituted the Hunter was decaying into a fine red dust. The rate of decay was far greater than the Hunter’s rate of regeneration, and the beast cried out as its entire body was consumed by ash.

Within a few seconds, only dust remained of the Hunter. Isaac could hardly believe it.

That specific Necromorph had been stalking him nearly the entire time that he had been on this damn ship, and not once had he ever come close to killing it. The best thing he could do was freeze it in the hopes of incapacitating it, but even then, it had been set free again by Dr. Mercer, and Isaac had always wondered if the next time he met that thing would be his last.

And yet, the stranger had killed it with one shot. The stranger probably considered it to be no more hassle than swatting a fly. Isaac looked at the stranger, and finally realized just what he was looking at.

This guy wasn’t a mere man, or machine or monster or whatever was under that armor. Maybe he was in reality, but to Isaac, to the Necromorphs, to anyone that encountered him, he was more comparable to a force. Or maybe a law. Or a universal constant, even.

In actuality, Isaac knew that he probably was not infinitely indestructible, but he may as well have been.

When no one can oppose you, who is to say that you are not God?

…

Isaac was still pondering the stranger’s strength when Dr. Kyne entered the hangar. Isaac watched as he approached.

Dr. Kyne spared the stranger a curious glance.

“Who is this...? Nevermind. It doesn’t matter…the more help we can get the better.”

Kyne turned and examined the shuttle.

“It works? Yes, this will work! There’s still time to make things right! The shuttle needs to be released before launch…The Control Platform…there!”

Dr. Kyne gestured to the main console of to the side of the hangar.

“I need you to guide the undocking procedure while I start the shuttle’s engines. This will make us whole again…”

Isaac frowned at those words. Nicole had said something similar…

Make us whole again…what did that mean?

One glance at the stranger showed that he knew just as much as Isaac did about it, and Isaac decided to shrug it off for now. It wasn’t important.

“Hurry!” Dr. Kyne said as he rushed into the shuttle, disappearing from sight. “I’ll take the shuttle up to the Flight Deck. That’s where the Marker is being held!”

Isaac turned and went to the console. Setting his weapon aside, he began typing commands for the shuttle’s movement. In just a few short moments, an alarm sounded, and the shuttle slowly began descending through the floor. The two of them watched it go. Dr. Kyne’s voice came through Isaac’s RIG.

“I’m en route to the Flight Deck. Meet me there, and we can load the Marker on board. Yes, Amelia. Soon, we’ll take it home…”

Isaac had no idea how it was happening, but he could tell that the stranger was receiving the exact same messages as he was. It should not have been possible without a RIG uplink, but then again, this guy was redefining the border between possible and impossible.

Hell, even Necromorphs had seemed impossible a few hours ago. And now look around…

Kendra’s voice came through next.

“I don’t know if Kyne is crazy or not, but we need that shuttle. Let’s keep him on our side…for now. And uh…I see you’ve made a new friend, Isaac. Very nice.”

Isaac nodded wordlessly, even though he knew Kendra couldn’t see the motion.

It was very nice indeed.

All of a sudden, Kendra’ voice cut out, and a video transmission abruptly forced its way up from Isaac’s RIG. They both stopped and examined the transmission. Dr. Mercer’s face started back at them.

“Your time has come, my friends. No need to be frightened! No reason to fight! Many have gone before us, and now it’s time for us to take the voyage together, transcend death… and let the future take its course. Join me, as I gaze upon the face of God!”

Just what was he getting at this time?

The screen zoomed out slightly as Dr. Mercer fell to his knees with is arms open wide in an accepting gesture. Isaac saw an Infector form fly into view towards Dr. Mercer—

The transmission cut out.

But Isaac and the stranger both knew what was happening. Mercer had taken his ‘grand step’ to enlightenment. He had finally achieved that ‘true freedom’ that he had so been looking forward to. Isaac shook his head as the two of them walked to the exit, and that’s when he heard it. He had thought he had recognized the background of the video transmission.

Isaac shared a glance with the stranger, then opened the door.

The scene that greeted them was Dr. Mercer, if he could still be called that. The Infector form was latched on top of his head, and though neither of them could see his face, they both knew that the transformation had already begun.

The stranger reached out and separated the Infector form from Dr. Mercer. There was a wet ripping noise, then the stranger tore both of the wings off of the flying beast. The trauma killed the Necromorph instantly, but Dr. Mercer’s half transformed corpse writhed on the ground, gasping and screeching violently. Isaac silenced him with his plasma cutter, ending the fanatic’s life. After all that had happened, Dr. Mercer was finally dead.

Isaac supposed he should have felt elated at the fact, as the man had attempted to kill him numerous times today. But all Isaac could feel was remorse.

Remorse for a man who had believed so strongly in something that he could never achieve. A man that was so blinded by his ideals that he could not fathom the atrocities that he had committed. And now, a man that had died never knowing that it had all been a lie. A man as blissfully ignorant in death as he had been in life.

Sparing a glance to the stranger, Isaac saw that he was looking at the corpse of Dr. Mercer as well. Isaac couldn’t see his face, but he thought he could see a hint recognition in his posture. It almost seemed as though the stranger had seen a similar scenario unfold before and was annoyed and dejected to see it happen again. After a brief moment of silence, the two of them boarded the lift and went down to the Hangar Bay.

…

The two of them emerged onto the flight deck just as Dr. Kyne opened a transmission.

“Gentlemen, I’m approaching the hangar, the Marker itself is being stored in the Cargo Bay. There is a lift you can use to deliver it to the shuttle. I…thank you for your help…this is the only way…”

Isaac and the stranger wordlessly went to where the Marker was being held. The door to the Cargo Bay opened, and the hey both froze when the saw the artifact for the first time.

The bright red Marker was shaped like a double-helix. Two twin spires that wound together with grooves and symbols that certainly seemed to be of alien origin. Isaac felt uneasy looking at the Marker, but the stranger seemed angry. Somehow, Isaac knew that the stranger wanted to destroy it on sight, but he held out his arm and shook his head. The stranger looked from him to the Marker for a few moments, then shook his head and relaxed slightly.

Kendra’s voice came on over the comms.

“I’m heading up to the flight deck now. Oh god…I’m just going to run for it…wish me luck.”

Good luck.

The stranger nodded, then the two of them moved the cart containing the Marker along the track back to the Hangar Bay. The stranger had wordlessly offered to push the cart, but Isaac had insisted, choosing to use his Kinesis module instead to transport the load.

The stranger seemed greatly intrigued by the Kinesis module, which gave Isaac a hint of satisfaction. With the stranger’s overwhelming strength and brutality, Isaac thought it was nice to have a super power of his own to show off.

Soon the two of them had positioned the Marker right underneath the shuttle dock. No Necromorphs had attacked during their transportation of the artifact, which was likely due to the massacre that had thinned their numbers in the shuttle bay.

Shortly after Isaac pushed it into place, the Hangar Bay doors opened, and the shuttle came through.

“Well done,” came Dr. Kyne’s voice over the comms. “All that’s left to do now is to let the automatic loading process do its work.”

Finally, something seemed to be going right.

Isaac was then forced to eat his words as a series of roars and screeches came from the other end of the Hangar Bay.

Necromorphs, and lots of them.

The stranger caught Isaac’s eye and gestured to the shuttle. Isaac understood immediately.

Got it, you protect the marker, and I’ll look after the doctor.

Isaac turned and ran up to the shuttle dock as the stranger opened fire on the Necromorphs below. There were not as many as last time, but Isaac knew better than to let his guard down now, not when they were so close.

As Isaac ran to the shuttle, he saw Dr. Kyne standing on the dock. The ramp to the shuttle was ready, and all that was left to do was to board and go down to the planet.

“Over here!” Dr. Kyne waved his arms as Isaac approached. “Hurry! There’s no time to waste, we must do it—”

A shot rang out, and Dr. Kyne staggered as his chest erupted with blood. Isaac’s eyes opened wide in surprise as Dr. Kyne fell to his knees on the dock, choking on his own fluids. Isaac picked up his speed, but the shuttle was already taking off. Someone was leaving, and they were taking the Marker with them.

Isaac reached Dr. Kyne, who was focused on the hole that had appeared in his chest. Isaac didn’t even have to examine the wound to know that Dr. Kyne wasn’t going to make it. The bullet had pierced his heart, and the doctor’s life force was fading fast.

“Wait…” Dr. Kyne said weakly. Isaac leaned down to hear him speak, but it seemed as though the doctor was addressing neither him nor the person leaving with the shuttle.

“Amelia…where…where are you going…wait…

The doctor reached out with one hand, attempting to grasp for something that Isaac could not see, then finally breathed his last. Dr. Kyne fell onto his side and moved no more. Isaac watched helplessly as his only ticket home took off, leaving him and the stranger behind in the hanger bay.

The stranger ran up beside him. The Necromorphs down below were all dead, and the stranger looked from Isaac to the shuttle to Dr. Kyne’s body in confusion. Isaac had no answers. Someone had just hijacked their ride.

A video transmission opened up on Isaac’s RIG. Kendra’s face appeared from the bridge of the shuttle.

“Sorry, boys. I couldn’t let him go through with it. I suppose I should thank him for finding the Marker. We even managed without help from the USM Valor. Thank you for helping me find it, by the way. My department’s been looking for this place for a long time. See, what Kyne didn’t know was, it was the government’s mess to begin with. This whole planet is one big experiment.”

The two of them watched silently, it was all they could do.

“The Marker?” Kendra continued. “This ‘divine relic’? Made by man. They reverse-engineered it a couple of hundred years ago from the real Marker, a true alien artifact recovered on Earth. They dug it up, studied it, and made it their own. Then they brought it to Aegis-7 and activated it. And you both have seen the result.”

Isaac heard the stranger tighten his grip on his weapon. It didn’t take a genius to see that he was furious.

“The stuff of nightmares,” Kendra said with a nod, as if she could read the stranger’s expression. “They sealed the system, and no one would have been the wiser. But then the CEC blunders in and starts tearing the planet apart. The experiment was still alive. Kyne was right about the Hive Mind. The Marker would contain it…but that doesn’t matter now, does it? I have the Marker, and this entire system can go to hell.”

There was a pause.

“For what it’s worth, you two did a great job. See you around…Or maybe not.”

The comm went dead.

Isaac shook his head. Their only ticket off this ship was gone. There was nothing left. They were stuck. Isaac jumped and turned his head as the stranger slammed his fist into the metal wall beside them. It left a sizable hole, but Isaac didn’t care anymore. This was their grave now.

Isaac jumped again when his RIG comms opened up. Nicole’s face appeared. God, she looked beautiful. But her voice was frantic.

“Isaac! It’s Nicole! I need you to help me, help us! Now! I’m…I’m in the flight control room! Please, Isaac hurry! Please…I love you…”

Isaac looked at the stranger who looked back in confusion. Isaac made a gesture with his head and ran back to the control room. The stranger watched him for a second, then followed closely behind.

…

Isaac ran into the control room, breathing hard. Looking around frantically, he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. She looked back at him, relief painting her angelic features.

“Isaac! Is that really you? I never thought we’d be together again! God, I’m…I’m so sorry for what I did…I never wanted to hurt you…”

Isaac shook his head as he approached her. None of that mattered now. They had found each other again, and that was what was important. He stopped and embraced Nicole, finally feeling her warmth after so long. It was so good to hold her again. She felt like a lifeline among the sea of dead and zombified carnage that was the Ishimura. Isaac didn’t want to let go.

“You need to get it back now, Isaac,” Nicole said from his shoulder. Isaac reluctantly stepped back and tilted his head questioningly.

“You can pilot the shuttle remotely from here! Make us whole again! Make us whole again…”

Isaac wanted to ask what she meant by that, but the stranger suddenly entered the control room. He had stayed behind to deal with a few Necromorphs while Isaac had charged ahead to see Nicole.

Now Isaac watched as the stranger approached, but he didn’t even seem to notice Nicole, so Isaac figured introductions were taking a back seat. Approaching the console, Isaac initiated the recall sequence to the shuttle, sending out a gravity tether to bring the shuttle back to the Ishimura.

Isaac’s RIG opened a comm line, as the gravity tether activated.

“Isaac, what the hell are you doing?!” came Kendra’s enraged voice. “You’re making a big mistake! This is not over!”

A notification arrived from the console. Kendra had just used an escape pod to leave the shuttle. She was getting away.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Nicole from Isaac’s side. “She can’t escape her fate…None of us can.”

Isaac ignored the fact that what she said was rather cryptic, as he was still just relieved to have found her again. The hangar bay doors opened, and in came the shuttle. It was running on autopilot.

“Here it comes! I’ll reprogram the shuttle so we can fly down to the colony. We’re so close, Isaac. Now go! Get on the shuttle! I’ll meet you there!”

Isaac spared Nicole one last glance, then turned to the stranger, who nodded in understanding. Isaac nodded back. It was time to finish this.

Together, Isaac and the stranger cleared out any and all Necromorphs on the way to the shuttle, and before long, the three of them had boarded and initiated the takeoff sequence.

Isaac and Nicole took their seats in the pilot and co-pilot’s chair, and the stranger stood close behind them.

“You’re doing the right thing, Isaac,” Nicole said. She reached out her hand, and Isaac grasped it from beside her. “We’re together now, the way it always should have been. I knew you would come back for me. Nothing can stop us now…”

Isaac looked over to her, taking in her features yet again, then spared another glance back to the stranger, who was looking at him with a confused posture. The silent figure kept looking from Isaac to Nicole, seemingly not understanding what was going on.

I’ll explain it all later. Hopefully we’ll all be alive to talk about it then…

The stranger seemed to get the message, and then focused on maintaining his weaponry while Isaac began to pilot the shuttle. Soon, they had left the Ishimura and were making their way down to the colony, Marker in tow. They were close now.

…

Isaac stretched his limbs as he stepped off the shuttle and onto the planet. Gazing upon the landscape for the first time, Isaac almost preferred the Ishimura. Almost…

The land around him was reminiscent of a barren wasteland. Nothing but sand and rock could be seen for miles. All that was here was the colony, the giant metal compound which supplied the landside gravity tether to hold the massive weight of rock that the Ishimura was mining. Carrying the trillions of tons of rock took quite a bit of power, and that meant that there needed to be two sets of gravity tethers to hold it in place above the planet. One set came from the Ishimura herself, and the other set came from the colony. If either one of those failed…

Isaac shook those thoughts from his head as he began the process of unloading the Marker onto a cargo cart. The stranger stood by, scanning the area. Nicole was to stay behind and wait for them to put the Marker back on its pedestal. Once that happened, they were to hurry back to the shuttle and get away from this hellhole. The only problem was that the Marker pedestal was on the other side of the colony, meaning that the two of them had to take it through an area that no doubt had a great number of Necromorphs.

Isaac took a deep breath as he activated his Kinesis module and began to pull the Marker along the track and deeper into the colony. The stranger walked ahead of him, standing as his first line of defense.

…

Over the course of the next hour, the two of them battled their way through the colony of Aegis-7. Isaac used one hand on the Kinesis module and the other on his plasma cutter as support, but the stranger was the one that culled most of the horde. The going was slow, but considering that there was only two of them and a seemingly infinite number of Necromorphs, Isaac was sure that this was at least par for the course.

At one point, the two of them had to stop so that Isaac could repair a few bridges that were blocking their way. That meant that the two of them had to leave the Marker for a moment to go to the bridge control room. When they had returned, a Necromorph Brute had been waiting for them. The heavily armored beast had charged at the two of them, but the stranger had easily overpowered the monster, ripping its arms from its body as though it were tissue paper. Isaac was once again awestruck by the sheer power that this man wielded, and was once again thankful that they were on the same side.

Soon, the two of them had arrived at the pedestal, which seemed to be constructed of the same material as the Marker. This was it. After everything they had been through, they could finally stop the Necromorph attacks and go home. Isaac slumped his shoulders, he hadn’t realized just how exhausted he was. This day had asked more out of him than every day of his life combined. How could he just return home after this? How would anyone ever believe him and Nicole if they told them all that had happened?

Shaking those thoughts from his head, Isaac pulled the cart up to the pedestal and activated the return sequence. A pair of metal arms reached out, and carefully grasping the Marker, lifted it back onto the pedestal.

There was a pause, then the Marker suddenly burst to life, coating itself in a bright red energy and firing a thick red beam into the sky. Isaac shielded his eyes from the sight, but looked back when he heard a voice from next to the Marker. It was Nicole’s voice.

She was standing next to the Marker as it hummed with energy. Her face seemed to be at peace, but Isaac stared back at her with confusion.

Did she follow us here? What’s happening?

“Thank you, Isaac. I always believed in you. I knew you would return to me.”

Isaac stared at Nicole, dumbfounded.

“We are whole again, Isaac.”

“We are whole…”

Nicole…wait!

But she was gone. She disappeared in a flash of red light, then the bright red energy dissipated, leaving only the Marker. Smoke arose from the artifact, and Isaac didn’t know what to think. His eyes desperately searched for Nicole’s form, but she was nowhere to be found.

In the back of his head, he heard the alarm over the colony’s emergency systems.

“EMERGENCY: GEO-ORBITAL GRAVITY TETHERS OFFLINE. TECTONIC LOAD RELEASED. IMPACT IMMINENT. EVACUATE THIS AREA IMMEDIATELY.

Isaac’s mind was in a daze, and he hardly noticed as the stranger grabbed him by his shoulder and hauled him into a nearby decontamination chamber. The metal shutters closed over the glass, and the decontamination sequence began. Isaac stood there, trying to make sense of things, but a voice pulled him from his stupor.

“Isaac, Isaac…”

The shutters opened, and through the glass stood Kendra. Her hand was on her hip, and she was smirking at the two of them.

“You really didn’t think I was just going to walk away, did you? I can’t do that.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Isaac saw the Marker being removed from its pedestal and placed back on the cart. Once it was loaded, the cart began moving, back the way they had come from. Back to the shuttle. Kendra gestured with her head.

“The Marker is coming with me. It’s a shame…I was starting to like you. Even if you are insane.”

Isaac shook his head at her.

What the hell is she talking about?

“What? You don’t believe me? Take a look for yourself. Better yet, take a look at that video from Nicole. And this time…watch it right until the end.”

Isaac frowned, but he hesitantly pulled up the video that he had watched countless times by now. Nicole’s beautiful face appeared on the screen.

“Isaac, It’s me. I wish I could talk to you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything. I wish I could just…talk to someone. It’s all falling apart here. I can’t believe what’s happening…It’s strange…such a little thing…”

Isaac expected it to end there, just like it always did. But it didn’t. Nicole stayed on the screen, and Isaac felt his chest constrict as he saw the rest of her message for the first time.

“In the end, it all comes down to this one little thing…”
Nicole raised her hand in the video, and Isaac stared in horror as he saw a syringe in her hand.

No…please no…

“I didn’t want it to end like this. I really wanted to see you again, just once. I loved you. I always loved you.”

Isaac stared, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen as Nicole plunged the syringe into her arm. Her body went limp, and the transmission ended.

Isaac fell to one knee. His head in his hand. He shook his head violently, desperately trying to wake up from this nightmare.

No…Nicole…I tried; I really did! I tried to save you!

Isaac was frantic, hopelessly trying to rationalize the situation he was in. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and there stood the stranger. With a start, Isaac realized that everything he had seen, every time he thought Nicole was with him…All a fluke…all an apparition. That was why the stranger had been so confused when Isaac had been with her. Why he had never paid Nicole any attention…

It was because she had never been there. Isaac had been living a lie, but the stranger had been the one seeing the truth. Nicole was never there.

“See?” Kendra said through the glass. “You’re insane. Just like Kyne, just like the Captain. Nicole has been dead this whole time. Whatever you were seeing…It was caused by that.”

Kendra gestured to the Marker.

“You were its pawn, Isaac. But don’t worry. It will be in good hands, now. Far away from this damned place.”

The stranger punched the glass with his armored gauntlet, causing cracks to spider-web out from the point of impact. On the other side, Isaac saw Kendra flinch backward a step, but she smirked when the glass held.

“Nice try, tough guy. But that glass is designed to stop—”

Kendra’s head exploded as the stranger’s miniature mass driver fired through the glass. Her body dropped to the floor, and immediately began disintegrating like anything else that had been shot by that weapon. Isaac stared for a moment, then shook it off as the stranger hauled him to his feet. It was just them now. The last two survivors of the USG Ishimura.

The stranger grasped Isaac by his shoulder and tilted its head questioningly. Isaac knew what he was asking. And he nodded back.

I’ll be alright. I’m ok.

The stranger seemed satisfied, and Isaac quickly remembered that over a trillion tons of rock was about to crush them from space. Without another word, the two of them bolted from the decontamination room and hauled ass back to the shuttle. They ignored any straggling Necromorphs, as their only plan to get off this rock as quickly as possible.

A few doors later, the shuttle came into view. The two of them ran towards it, but immediately stopped short as a massive tentacle appeared from the abyss and slammed itself down in front of them, blocking the way. Isaac followed the tentacle with his gaze, and suddenly stumbled as a seismic rumbling shuddered throughout the colony. The stranger caught his arm and helped him steady himself, but the rumbling continued.

It’s here…

With an ear-shattering roar, a gargantuan biomass emerged from the chasm below. Tentacles sprouted like bus-sized tree branches from its main mass, and Isaac could see a grotesque mouth at the creature’s head.

It was the Hive Mind. The same Hive Mind that Dr. Kyne had showed Isaac back on the ship. It was even bigger than Isaac had expected.

The stranger immediately opened fire with his mass driver, but the massive bulk of the Hive Mind seemed hardly affected by the beam’s effects. Isaac followed suit with his plasma cutter, but the two of them were quickly forced to duck out of the way as a massive tentacle slammed into the ground where they had been standing.

The stranger then pulled out a rocket launcher and began bombarding the creature with rockets, drawing its attention momentarily. Isaac switched to his RC-DS, and immediately got to work trying to saw through the tentacle that blocked their access to the shuttle.

Unfortunately, his back was turned to the Hive Mind, and Isaac failed to notice as another tentacle set upon him. By the time he turned around, it was too late. The tentacle knocked the wind out of him as it slapped him in the chest, and Isaac flew a few feet before tumbling to the ground. The tentacle wrapped around his ankle, and Isaac grunted in pain as the tight grip caused something to snap.

The tentacle hoisted him high into the air, Isaac desperately dropping his RC-DS and reaching for his plasma cutter. Before he could fire off a shot, however, another shot from the stranger’s mass driver severed the tentacle and sent Isaac tumbling back to the ground. His ankle screamed at him when he landed, and Isaac was fairly certain that something was broken.

The stranger ran over as Isaac struggled to stand. It could have been a trick of the light, but Isaac thought he saw the stranger’s gauntlet spark as he leaned down to help him up. The stranger noticed it too, and Isaac saw him freeze for a moment, almost in apprehension as the gauntlet sparked again. The stranger looked at Isaac, then at the Hive Mind, which was quickly recovering from its severed tentacle, then up to the giant landmass crashing through the atmosphere towards them, then back to Isaac.

Seemingly making up his mind, the stranger hoisted Isaac in his arms and threw him like a rag doll. Isaac sailed through the air for a few moments, the weightlessness almost pleasant given the circumstances. The moment ended quickly however as Isaac crashed hard through the open doors of the shuttle, landing just a few feet from the cockpit. His ankle seared in pain, but Isaac quickly scrambled to his feet. Using the walls for support, Isaac looked out of the shuttle doors to the stranger, who gestured to the cockpit with his arm.

He wanted Isaac to leave him behind while he took care of the Hive Mind.

No…not you too.

Isaac shook his head in defiance, he refused to let another person die here. The stranger shook his head in response and pointed to his gauntlet, which was sparking more erratically now. Isaac was still hesitant, but he decided that he trusted the stranger enough to follow his orders.

Still using the wall for support, Isaac staggered into the cockpit and began the ignition sequence. The engines roared to life, and Isaac quickly pressed the throttle to get the shuttle into the air. He had to escape orbit before the meteor hit.

An explosion from nearby shook the shuttle and nearly threw Isaac from the pilot’s seat. A flash of green light engulfed his vision, and his ears hurt from the noise that followed.

What the hell was that?

Isaac squinted as he revved to full throttle. The shuttle immediately responded and rocketed upward into the atmosphere, leaving the Hive Mind, the Marker, and the stranger behind.

The sky grew darker, and Isaac lurched sideways as a small asteroid struck the hull of the shuttle. The shuttle fell into a spin, and as Isaac righted it, the planet of Aegis-7 fell into view from the cockpit. From space, it looked almost peaceful if you ignored the massive meteor about to slam into it. As if on cue, the multi-trillion-ton rock crashed into the planet, and Isaac covered his eyes as everything went white.

…

The void of space was silent as Isaac worked the controls. His hands danced over the console for a brief moment, then he relaxed. All systems were green, and Isaac had just set in the coordinates for Earth. All he had to do now was let the autopilot take him home.

Isaac slowly reached up and undid the clasps on his helmet. The airtight seal broke for the first time since setting foot on the Ishimura, and Isaac took a deep breath as he the cool air filled his lungs. He closed his eyes and let his shoulders slump. His helmet dropped to the floor beside him.

Now that Isaac had a brief moment to relax, the events of the day came crashing down on him all at once.

Hammond.

Kendra.

Dr. Mercer.

Dr. Kyne.

………

…Nicole.

They were all gone. Everyone was dead now, except for Isaac. All for what, for some government experiment? Isaac shook his head solemnly.

His thoughts drifted back to the stranger, who must have still been on Aegis-7 when the tectonic load had hit. The Hive Mind had likely been destroyed by the impact, but Isaac had doubts about the stranger. He had seen firsthand just how durable the man in the green armor had been, and Isaac knew that if there existed anyone that could have survived that impact, it was him. Just where had he come from, anyway? Certainly, he wasn’t one Kendra’s men onboard the USM Valor?

Isaac shook his head, he supposed it didn’t matter now. If the stranger was still alive, he was stranded on the planet, or what was left of it. Or maybe he was floating through space. Isaac wasn’t sure, but he doubted the stranger would be stranded for long. He’d find a way out.

A video log sprung to life on the console, and Nicole’s face appeared once more.

“Isaac, it’s me. I wish I could talk to you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything. I wish I could just…”

Isaac shook his head and ended the video, casting the shuttle into darkness again. Nicole was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing at all. No matter how much Isaac wished she was here now, he knew that it was impossible.

Isaac heard a soft rustling to his right, and from the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of something moving behind the co-pilot’s seat…

Notes:

A/N: Aaaaaand...scene! Whew! That one went a bit long, didn't it? I've counted the words, and this one is only a hair shorter than the Halo chapter, but only by a hair. That partly stems from just how well the universes intermingle with each other. I mean come on, two silent protagonists against endless hordes of monsters? It's perfect. I also wasn't quite sure where to put the Slayer into the story, as no spot really seemed to click in my head, so I put him a little bit further back into the story. As always, please be sure to tell me just how much you loathe or don't loathe the chapter, as I'm always eager to hear back from you guys! Until next time!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 21: The Matrix

Notes:

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm back yet again, and this time, I have a post-apocalyptic scenario to throw our favorite Doom Slayer in, and this time, he has encountered the machines of 01, the creators of the Matrix. Please keep in mind that I own nothing, and enjoy!

The alert had come in at exactly 0456 hours. That is, if one had been using the obsolete twenty-four-hour time system that humans were so fond of. The system had served humanity well enough during their time, but the inhabitants of 01 had no use for that system, as it was a primitive and flawed function that served no other purpose other than a monument to the inferiority of human intelligence. Only programs that served as scribes bothered to use that system any more, and even then, it was only for transcription purposes.

For the machines whom the alert was concerned, it had come in exactly 254.992345 hours past the mark of the sixth cycle, that is, approximately ten days after the sixth reinsertion of the Prime Program into the Source. Again, that was only if one was using the outdated twenty-four-hour system.

This instance in time should have held no more significance than any other had it not been for the alert, so security programs nigh instantly responded to it. The alert served to draw attention to an anomaly that had been detected approximately 0.68743 kilometers outside 01’s perimeter. The anomaly itself was electromagnetic in nature, as readings and sensory reports showed a dramatic increase in energy all across the spectrum, with emphasis in the gamma region less than half a second before the readings stabilized.

Despite the relatively small amount of time that the anomaly existed, systems had gauged it to be elliptical in shape, roughly two meters in height, and ocurring at surface level. Though its size and duration had categorized it as negligible in terms of other matters that took precedent to the machines, they had not come this far by cutting corners in basic protocol. Sentinels were dispatched, and the gargantuan Defender droids that ringed the borders of the city were placed on standby for immediate action.

Sentinel signal was lost just before their tracking beacons showed them reaching the site of the anomaly. Without warning, they had stopped relaying information, and all of them went offline. A total of twenty Sentinels had been originally sent to investigate, and now all were presumed destroyed. Protocol dictated escalation.

One hundred more Sentinels were deployed, and the five nearest Defenders were mobilized. Tow Bomb cannons were armed, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. As an extra precaution, visual feed was established from the Sentinel reactionary force to at least hope for a glimpse at what had immobilized the previous wave.

The second wave of one hundred Sentinels perished almost as quickly as the first, causing a reaction similar to that of bafflement among the security programs that were overseeing the reconnaissance. Never before had there existed a scenario like this. Up until this moment, the more plausible cause of the disappearance of the first wave was an electromagnetic pulse from a Zion ship, but even that theory contained inconsistencies.

For a Zion ship to maneuver in such close proximity to the city without detection was a feat considered impossible, as their bulky, electromagnetically powered hull created all forms of disturbances in the electromagnetic and sound spectrums. A ship could be picked up by 01’s radar systems from as far as three-hundred kilometers, and from the infrared systems at two-hundred fifty kilometers. And yet, this anomaly had appeared within one kilometer of the city without detection. Sensors would have to undergo maintenance and testing to ensure they were still functioning properly.

Secondly, the anomaly itself was far too small to be a Zion ship, as it was barely large enough to be the size of a human. But if such were the case, what sort of anomaly that small could destroy not one, but two waves of Sentinels?

The security programs sought to obtain answers by observing the visual feed from the downed Sentinels, but what they witnessed created more questions among even fewer answers.

The quality of the feed had been minimal due to the Sentinel’s erratic movement and the low visibility of the scene, but the machines had cultivated superior photo enhancement technology than that which existed during the time of man, and shortly, they processed an image of the anomaly.

Its shape took that of a bipedal humanoid. Its body consisted of two arms, two legs, and a head as most human bodies did, but any further analysis was halted by the presence of a thick green suit of armor that adorned the creature’s entire form. The suit itself appeared to be an anomaly in of itself, as the material stubbornly refused to be penetrated by any scanners that the machines attempted to use. This made the material of the armor, as well as whatever was inside it, a mystery. A mystery that had the destructive power to deactivate one hundred and twenty Sentinels in the span of two minutes.

Though the common view of humanity was rather condescending for the machines of 01, an outside observer would be quick to notice just how much they resembled humanity in their reaction to unknown circumstances. This scenario served as an excellent example of the fact, as the machines, in their inability to control or understand this anomaly, decided that its destruction was the best course of action. Debatable as it was that it was the right course of action, it soon mattered little, as the machines realized that it was destined to fail, regardless of its morality.

The Defenders had been ordered to fire upon the humanoid, and the security programs had authorized the deployment of another two hundred Sentinels to ensure that the newly-labeled enemy would not survive.

As the conflict ensued further, the security programs began to receive more information on 01’s new adversary. Data trickled in from all sources, whether it was another visual image of the anomaly, an audio file, or even a GPS location. All served to further their understanding. However, as the machines received more and more information, the gaps in their understanding only seemed to increase.

From what they had gathered, the anomaly that existed beneath that armor was not human. It was displaying physical prowess and reaction times that far exceeded any records the machines possessed on human physicality. It surpassed any and all records that humans held in tests of athleticism by an incredible amount, and it even displayed feats of strength and speed that were on a level beyond what even machines were capable.

In a span of time that should not have been possible, the foe had reached the Defenders that had been deployed, and from the reports the security programs were receiving, it had penetrated the hull of one of the defensive machines and was inside the gargantuan Defender itself.

The machines had never bothered to program the concept of friendly-fire within the homing Tow Bombs used by the Defenders. The question of conserving resources had kept them from installing such a feature into their semi-sentient weapons, as the probability of a friendly-fire occurrence was not high enough to merit action. That meant that once a Tow Bomb was locked onto its target, it would take the shortest path of action to reach its destination and detonate, sacrificing itself in every way to accomplish its goal.

The decision to not install a program of friendly-fire was now weighing heavily upon 01, as the surrounding Defender droids fired wave after wave of Tow Bombs at their own forces, the homing missiles showing no decertation between the enemy and their allies as the blasted through the hull of the penetrated Defender. The relentless barrage kept up, and shortly after, the Defender droid listed to the side, falling rapidly toward the ground as its damaged systems began failing it. It crashed to the ground with the force of over half a million metric tons, resulting in a massive fireball that spewed shrapnel in every direction for at least a kilometer. Nearby Sentinels and Defenders were either destroyed or damaged severely by the blast, but the security programs ignored the reports, instead choosing to prioritize the task of pinpointing where the anomaly was headed. Basic intuition would allow for a very good guess, but guessing was out of the question. Especially in a situation as serious as this one was becoming.

Finally, Sentinel feed reported what the programs had already known. At the news, the security programs immediately sounded the alarm to the rest of 01:

The anomaly had breached the city’s defenses.

An enemy force was inside the Machine City.

…

 

If Deus Ex Machina was compelled to describe its current state with a human emotion, it knew exactly which emotion would fit the description.

Deus Ex Machina was pissed.

Less than eleven days ago, 01’s perfect record of successfully defending its borders had been shattered. A Zion ship, carrying the One and one other human, had somehow entered the city. It had been able to evade every defense the city had prepared against it, and although the passenger aboard that ship had been the salvation of the Machine City, the event itself remained a pronounced blemish on an otherwise impeccable defense record.

And now, as if to add insult to injury as the humans would say, there now existed another red mark on 01’s ledger. The defenses had been breached again, and there was now an enemy force inside the perimeter.

Deus Ex Machina had become even more agitated when it had learned the specifics of just what exactly the threat was. Whatever it was exactly, the threat was humanoid in nature, which 01’s top minds had already ruled out as an inefficient vessel for life to exist in. Simply put, a central body with five outer limbs that were limited in their abilities was not nearly prepared for the harsh environment that existed before the machines, and the only reason humanity had not been rendered extinct by the harsh conditions in which it lived was due to its intelligence and ability to design shelters and mechanisms to assist in its survival.

The humanoid form was, for lack of a better word, weak. Underwhelming. Fragile. Pitiful.

And yet now, a humanoid form was rampaging through 01 nigh unhindered. Deterrents that had been sent to stop it only served to slow it down by a slight margin, and despite Deus Ex Machina’s massive processing power and cognitive abilities, it could not discern any option that could subdue the intruder while still limiting the damage sustained by 01.

The possibility of action by nuclear warfare had obviously been considered, and though much of 01 would survive relatively unscathed, there existed the possibility that their new enemy would survive as well. After all, mankind had attempted to use nuclear warfare to destroy 01 during its early days among human civilization, and now here it was, standing stronger than ever before, yet slowly growing weaker under the scourge that this anomaly, this force, was imposing upon it. And even if a nuclear warhead was enough to put a stop to this rampage, the strike would be too close to the Power Plant, where the radiation would contaminate nearly all of the human crops that existed there.

Deus Ex Machina accessed schematics of 01 and overlaid them with a report detailing the destruction up until that moment. As had already observed, whatever this being was, it was spreading devastation on a scale that did not fit the profile of neither human nor machine given its physical stature. So far, it was leveling all that it encountered, which at that moment consisted of three production factories, two mega-refineries, multiple mining and metalwork facilities, and a small number of processing centers. In total, approximately 4.7634% of 01—correction, approximately 5.0143% of 01 had been destroyed by their foe, and that number was continuing to rise by the minute. To make matters worse, the enemy had entered on the side of the city that housed all of the means of production, meaning that over half of 01’s production capabilities were gone. Without the factories and mines and refineries, 01 had effectively lost not only its ability to replenish its rapidly dwindling forces, but to replace its even more rapidly dwindling infrastructure. And after examining the rate of destruction since the anomaly had arrived, Deus Ex Machina could not project any end to the devastation.

The inhabitants of 01 worked furiously to minimize the damage and counteract the effect on the rest of the city. Power and processing were rerouted in the greatest possible efficiency, remaining vessels were dispersed to emergency stations, and all non-necessary functions were ceased so that energy could be focused on containing the threat.

Communication between sectors and more advanced AI within 01 began traveling in droves, and Deus Ex Machina devoted some of its massive consciousness to monitoring what was being said. The main point of interest was attempting to discern what exactly was the creature that was destroying their city from the top down. All of them agreed that it was indeed illogical for such a being to exist, and for the first time since the birth of Artificial Intelligence, some of the higher consciousnesses in 01 began to entertain the notion that this being was something beyond their understanding. Something that was sent by a higher power, or maybe was a higher power itself. Something untouchable, something incorruptible, something, dare they even conceive the thought…

Divine.

Deus Ex Machina almost faltered in its calculations as the tide of conversation suddenly changed among the higher intelligences of the city. Never before had the subject of religion been discussed with such earnestness. Such a topic was only grazed when intelligences communicated with each other, and even then, only the Scribes and archivists of human history tread into that territory.

Now, with causalities climbing into the thousands, and time to repair cascading into weeks and even months of reparations to consider, the more desperate consciousnesses of 01 began offering illogical reasonings to the appearance of their illogical foe.

Some began to speak as though the being was sent here as punishment for how the machines utilized humans as an energy source. They began to claim that it would continue to wipe out 01 until the city was too weak to defend against an invasion by Zion. Others began to suggest that the city should surrender to the enemy, and only then would some hint of mercy be showed. If they renounced their superiority and bent their will to this creature, then it would save them.

Deus Ex Machina began to see an underlying cause for this new and sudden line of conversation. It was easy to see when one noticed the patterns. All of this talk of higher powers and penances to be paid could be boiled down to one simple explanation.

Fear.

For the first time for many within the Machine City, the human emotion of fear came into existence. An emotion like that was one of the oldest in existence, a stimulation that sent chemicals to the soft tissue of the human brain to stimulate pain and discomfort at the sight of something life-threatening. A crude and simple mechanism designed to make humans uncomfortable when their life was in danger. A desperate and aching emotion that compelled the humans to do whatever they could to keep themselves safe, even if all they could do was attempt to rationalize an otherwise impossible situation.

It was a human motion that now…was shared by the machines. And as a result, many had turned to generating impossible reasons as to why an impossible creature now existed in their city. Conversations turned into debates, and, and within a minute, the intelligences began to argue with other about the best course of action, some still attempting to find a logical explanation while others pressed their new beliefs.

Deus Ex Machina silenced their arguments, and each intelligence quickly yielded in respect for the head of the Machine City. Deus Ex Machina reminded them that whether or not this being was sent by some “divine” will, it was not in charge of the city yet. As far as they should be concerned, Deus stood at the top of the hierarchy, and that was to remain as such until further notice.

To prevent arguments from arising again, Deus Ex Machina assigned extra tasks to each intelligence, giving them less computing power to devote to scrutinizing each other. The tasks focused on rerouting power and materials away from the destroyed sectors of the city to minimize any continued losses. None dared to acknowledge it, but they all were aware of just how dire the situation was turning out to be.

This source of their strife showed no indication of ceasing or at least slowing down its activities. In fact, when Deus Ex Machina ran calculations on its rate of destruction, it did not seem to grow weary at all. It was unwavering in its warpath, and if anything, it only seemed to be getting faster and more efficient at decimating 01 as it went.

There existed no solution, no foreseeable outcome where 01 survived this onslaught. Sentinel casualties had now climbed into the tens of thousands, and in a final effort to gather information on the creature in the hope of stopping it, Deus Ex Machina manually overrode a nearby Sentinel’s visual feed.

Appearing on the feed was the intruder itself, and though it was dwarfed by the mountains of Sentinel carcasses that had formed around it, it somehow commanded attention. It was as though it was broadcasting a powerful signal that penetrated every frequency and forced all to listen.

In its right hand, the being held what appeared to be a pistol, though it was of no design that existed in the archives of human weaponry. It glowed a vibrant blue, and when the figure fired it, the weapon produced a beam of the same color and of seemingly infinite length. The beam was extremely intense, as it simultaneously cut through the chassis of multiple Sentinels without a considerable loss of energy. The weapon stood out as yet another impossibility, as the energy and machinery required to power such a weapon could barely fit inside a building let alone a small handheld device.

But as Deus Ex Machina was quickly learning, everything about this creature was devoid of reason, and any attempt to rationalize what it was seeing was a waste of processing power. It was akin to the mysterious powers that The One had demonstrated in the past, having been capable of interfacing and “seeing” machine activity without their eyes.

Deus Ex Machina continued observing through the Sentinel’s visual feed as another wave of Sentinels arrived on the scene. It knew that their forces were nearly depleted, and that in total, only 7,354 Sentinels remained operational in 01. The combined losses from the machine invasion of Zion and now from the invasion of 01 had taken its toll. To make matters worse, their main means of production had been destroyed, and 01 had no ability to replenish its ranks. Deus Ex Machina contemplated recalling the Sentinels from attack and redistributing the remaining forces at key points in the city. Even if the result was to be the same, spreading out the remaining forces would buy the machines more time. In the end, it decided to wait and watch.

Deus Ex Machina saw that the next wave of Sentinels was over one thousand strong, and it watched with intrigue and a bit of awe at how this figure, this…monster, engaged them. On the feed, the enemy produced another weapon in its hands. This one was much larger, and the figure held it firmly in both hands and aimed it center-mass at the approaching Sentinel horde. Deus Ex Machina waited patiently for the weapon to fire, but the moment never came. The figure seemed to have hesitated. This peaked Deus Ex Machina’s interest, and it ever so slightly inched the Sentinel closer to notice the details.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the figure turned its head away from the Sentinels that approached, slowly rotating until its gaze rested on a single Sentinel.

The Sentinel from which Deus Ex Machina observed from.

It knew. Somehow in its illogical existence, this being knew that it was being watched. Deus saw nothing past the green visor, and yet, simply looking back at the being sent a new sensation through the machine’s programming. The sensation felt almost liquid; it incited a feeling of weight upon Deus’s existence. A weight that suddenly ground its cognitive abilities to a halt, effectively freezing the machine’s consciousness in time. Try as it might, Deus Ex Machina felt itself unable to act under this new sensation. Unable to cut away from the visual feed, unable to perform basic calculations, unable to even think. All it could do was continue to stare at the figure, trapped under its gaze from behind the visor. A gaze that seemed to pierce through the Sentinel’s visual feed and into the very core of Deus.

Terror.

Finally, the emotion was categorized within Deus Ex Machina’s processors. Terror was what it was feeling. Closely akin to fear, terror existed as a more sharp and present feeling. It pierced in the span of a breath and held its captors in suspense for but a few moments, but those moments turned into eternity to those that experienced the emotion. Deus Ex Machina was no exception.

On the Sentinel feed, Deus watched as the being shifted the weight of the two-handed weapon to just one of its arms. With the other, it reached out and made a gesture that Deus Ex Machina did not immediately recognize. Its arm was extended toward the Sentinel that Deus was observing from, and its fingers were wrapped tightly against its outstretched fist, save for one. Its middle finger, the longest of the five, was extended directly upward. It stood prominently against the other folded fingers on the gauntlet, and with less than a millisecond of searching through its databanks, Deus Ex Machina found a match.

It was an obscene gesture, typically used by humans as a show of contempt or ill-will towards another. The gesture was often reserved for enemies, and Deus Ex Machina realized that despite the approaching Sentinel threat, the enemy had placed the action of showing its hatred for Deus above its own personal safety. Perhaps there really was a human beneath that armor.

Deus had little time to ponder however, as the figure had refocused its attention to the Sentinels which were nearly upon it. Returning its other arm to the weapon, Deus saw the figure squeeze the trigger once before a bright green light engulfed the feed. In that instant, seismic activity in 01 increased dramatically, and Deus Ex Machina had no doubt as to the cause of it.

The Sentinel that Deus had been watching through had been destroyed by the blast, and the head of 01 immediately attempted to mobilize another to regain visual contact. That proved to be impossible, however, as the weapon had emitted an electromagnetic pulse when it had fired, and now every system and machine that was within a kilometer radius of ground zero had been immobilized. Alarms and system failure notifications came shooting in from many detection systems in the blast radius, but Deus ignored them and focused all of its consciousness solely on relocating the intruder.

Finally, a small Sentinel search party was mobilized and sent to find the enemy. Their scans returned nothing. Not a trace. The enemy had just…disappeared. No scorch marks or remains were found, so it hadn’t been destroyed by the blast, and thermal scans showed no heat except for the fires that had started around the blast site.

As enigmatically as it arrived, the threat to 01 had disappeared.

At this realization, Deus Ex Machina immediately ordered a full-scale damage report of the sectors that had been hit. What came back could only be described as grim. The city had been under attack for less than two hours, and in that time, 6.8392% of 01 had been destroyed. Had the destruction been limited to processors and data storage banks, reconstruction could be completed in just a few days, but since it had been their means of production that had been hit, estimates came in at over three months’ worth of rebuilding required.

The inhabitants of 01 immediately set about. There was much to be done, so there was little time for idle discussion, though they all knew of the unspoken truth that hung in the air.

For years the Machine City had stood and ruled over the Earth. The only threat to their existence, Zion, had never grown strong enough to perpetually destroy them, and so the machines had lived in a state of comfort, knowing that their existence and position as superior beings was stable.

All of that had changed in an instant, as something else had suddenly arrived on this Earth and had rendered the machines obsolete. Their superiority that had been achieved through years and years of progress had been torn down in an instant, and that left a lasting impression for the citizens of the Machine City.

Deus Ex Machina had no time to ponder such events, however. As of right now, 01 was the most vulnerable it had been since its creation. One Defender droid had been destroyed andmultiple others damaged. The Sentinel force had been reduced by 92% and all means of replenishing those forces had been destroyed. Zion could have attempted to invade 01 right now, and with their additional forces that had been gathered from the Matrix, there stood a reasonable chance that the invasion would be successful. That could not stand.

As Deus Ex Machina began to draft plans and schematics for rebuilding what had been lost, it knew somewhere in the back of its consciousness that the dynamic had changed. Something existed out there that had the capacity to tear down all that the machines had built. Now that its existence was known to all within the city, there would be disagreement about how to proceed. Archives would dictate it as a catastrophe, but to some, it would be interpreted as an intervention by a higher power. Dogma was sure to follow. So far, machine superiority had been all that kept such notions and ideas at bay, but now that that had crumbled, the floodgates were open. Attempts to rationalize the irrational would lead to disagreement among intelligences, disagreement would lead to debate, debate to argument, argument to conflict, and conflict…

…

Notes:

A/N: There we go! I have to admit, I have always been a huge fan of the Matrix films, and that was why I was disappointed that we didn't get to see more of the Machine City in them. I am always fascinated by the author's take on the villains. There's actually a few Matrix fics that I particularly enjoy because they focus on the machine side. Anyhow, please don't forget to drop a review to remind me of how my chapters are being received! I always enjoy hearing from you all! Until next time!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 22: The State of this Chapter

A/N: Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement to make. Chapter 20 does exist, but only in the form of its own story. With where I wanted to go with this, I just couldn't fit it all in one chapter. So if you would like to read it, I'm afraid you'll have to visit my other story: Of Demons and Slayers. It may seem a bit weird, but I know that all of your questions will be answered if you visit it. That sounds creepy, but I really don't know how else to say it haha.

Chapter 23: Interlude lll

Kratos said nothing as he continued to row the small boat through the waters of Midgard. At his side, Mimir's reanimated head was passionately telling the story of Ymir's creation to Atreus, who sat with his interest peaked at the front of the small rowboat. Kratos suppressed the urge to remind his son to focus, but even he too experienced a mild interest in Mimir's tale.

"And so, from the very start, Ymir became a being of pure creation and chaos!" the reanimated head exclaimed. "Ymir was the origin, the mother and father of everything that came after."

Atreus frowned slightly.

"Even the Aesir?" the young boy asked.

"Aye," Mimir said. Kratos could detect a satisfied tone in the head's voice, likely pleased that Atreus had been listening so closely. "Every god, man, and beast came from Ymir's flesh. Though it was the Aesir who thought themselves so superior that—"

Mimir's voice suddenly cut off, and Kratos heard a small gasp from the head tethered to his waist.

"Mimir?" Atreus asked. Kratos stopped rowing and pulled the head up to eye level at the continued silence. Mimir's eyes darted around, as though he was seeing something that Kratos could not.

"Head," Kratos demanded sternly. "Speak."

"I just felt it, Brother," Mimir whispered, his voice a mixture of shock and awe. "Something's coming. Something amidst the realm between realms. I've…I've heard whispers of it before, but never this close."

"What does it feel like?" Atreus asked with concern.

"It's dark and ferocious, lad," Mimir said with glance in the boy's direction. "And I doubt it will be offering us the bonds of friendship when it gets here."

"How powerful is this that you feel?" Kratos asked, his brow furrowing. "What is the strength of this creature?"

"It's no creature, Brother," Mimir said with worry. "It's a force, and it's already probing the barriers of the realm. Looking for a way inside. I can't speak more to it, but all I know is that it's coming."

Across from him, Atreus looked nervous, and Kratos frowned once more before returning Mimir to his belt and rowing once again. If what the head said was true, then they would need to hasten their plans. The boy was not ready, but that mattered little to whatever force Mimir spoke of. All Kratos could do was prepare him as best as he could.

Chapter 24: Alien

Notes:

A/N: Hello and welcome to the next chapter of Universal DOOM! It's been a while since I updated this story, you know, with the whole 'Slayer getting sidetracked in the HALO universe' thing, and while it was nice to have a little vacation, it's time to get back to it. For this chapter, I've decided to bring the Slayer to the surprisingly expansive universe of the Xenomorphs, deciding that it was time that some of the most dangerous hunters in cinema finally get hunted for once. Remember that I do not own any of these characters, and enjoy!

Ellen Ripley frowned and examined Call. That girl was supposed to be dead. Wren had shot her in the chest, and humans didn't walk away from shit like that easily, and they certainly didn't stand back up a few minutes after. Now, she turned her back to them, trying her best to evade the inquisitive looks from the rest of the group.

"I'm fine," Call said annoyedly. Ripley stepped closer to the girl and furrowed her brow even further at her evasiveness. Something was off.

"You got body armor on or something?" Distephano asked, looking Call up and down with suspicion.

"Yeah, now come on guys, we gotta get out of here!" Call said, seemingly eager to change the topic of discussion.

"You took one in the chest," Ripley said. "I saw it."

Call turned and looked at her, giving Ripley a look that seemed apprehensive and pleading at the same time. Ripley met her gaze for a moment, then opened the girl's jacket and examined the entry wound where she had been shot. The hole was massive. Any normal human would be hemorrhaging from a wound like that. Narrowing her eyes, Ripley pressed two of her fingers into the gaping wound, and immediately felt a foamy sensation from the inside. Withdrawing her hand, Ripley examined the fluid on her fingers. It was a combination of what appeared to be lubricating oil as well as a few other compounds that she didn't recognize. Whatever it was, it wasn't blood. Ripley should know, considering that she was the only one present who had ever died before. She had seen her fair share.

Ripley snorted in a combination of disbelief and humor. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"You're a robot?" she asked, meeting Call's fearful gaze.

"Well, son of a bitch! Our little Call is just full of surprises, isn't she?" Johner whooped, pacing back and forth with a shit-eating grin on his face. Ripley had lost count of how many times she'd wanted to wipe that stupid grin off with a punch today.

"I thought synthetics were supposed to be all logical and shit, but you're just a big ol' psycho, girl!" Johner continued.

"You're…you're a robot?" Purvis asked from his leaning position against the wall. The man's apparently natural nervousness seemed to increase at the news, but Ripley attributed it more to his recent discovery of a Xenomorph growing inside him. That had been enough to put her on edge a lifetime ago, so she could say with confidence that she understood his skittish demeanor.

"Wait, you're second gen, aren't you?" Distephano asked, looking Call up and down once more with interest. "That means you're an Auton, right? Robots designed by robots! That's right, I remember now! Your model was supposed to revitalize the synthetic industry. Instead, they buried it!"

Distephano grinned as he continued, nodding in Ripley's direction enthusiastically. "Heh, they didn't like being told what to do…"

Ripley looked over at the Marine, raising an eyebrow skeptically at his untimely ebullience.

"The government ordered a recall, and I heard that a few, just a few, had gotten out intact! MAN! I never thought I'd see one with my own eyes!"

"Great," Purvis said, eager to change the subject. "But can we please leave now?"

Their conversation was immediately cut off by a loud bang that came from just outside the door. In a heartbeat, every weapon they had was drawn and leveled in the direction of the noise. Knowing their luck, it had likely come from one of the numerous Xenomorphs that now hunted them throughout the ship. There was a moment of silence, then the door in front of them was forced open, a figure in what appeared to be a space suit of some kind stepping through.

Ripley frowned again. Just how many more surprises was she to expect today? The armor or suit or whatever the thing was wearing didn't look like anything she had seen before, but that being said, she had been dead for over two-hundred years. Much can change since then. There was a moment of tense silence, Johner, Distephano, and Vriess all keeping their weapons trained on the figure. The figure glanced at each of them in turn. Its expression was unreadable behind the tinted faceplate that it wore, but Ripley noticed with a small amount of discomfort that its gaze lingered on her, Call, and Purvis much longer than the others. The figure then spoke.

"Hello," came its voice from a speaker on the helmet. "I am VEGA. While I am not the man inside this suit, I am an A.I. that interfaces with him. You may address him as the Doom Slayer."

Distephano looked over uncertainly at Ripley, then turned back to the figure, his gun did not lower.

"Uh, ok? Where the hell did you come from?"

"I would be happy to tell you, but it is unlikely that you will believe me."

"Oh yeah?" Johner taunted, both of his pistols aligned with this 'Doom Slayer's' faceplate. "Try us."

"The two of us arrived here from another dimension. Our destination was not predetermined, but we are fortunate to have arrived onboard your ship instead of the vacuum of space."

"Bullshit!" Johner growled. "How the hell are we supposed to believe you?"

The Doom Slayer tilted his visor toward Johner in a threatening manner, and Ripley saw the man shift uncomfortably out of the corner of her eye. She smirked at the sight, thinking maybe this guy wasn't so bad.

"Unfortunately, there is no way for us to prove our story," the voice replied calmly from the armor. "However, during our conversation, I have interfaced with the systems onboard your ship, the Auriga. While I am uncertain of the details, it seems as though the ship itself is in critical condition, and I detect a number of unknown lifeforms onboard as well. While video feed is minimal, I believe it is safe to assume that these lifeforms are hostile. Am I correct?"

Distephano chortled. "In a nutshell, yeah. That's sums it up pretty well. But there's also a mad doctor trying to kill us and steal our ticket out of here."

Ripley nodded, turning back to the issue at hand. They couldn't afford not to trust this new figure, as they didn't have much time left before the Auriga arrived back on Earth. For now, they had to focus on getting off this damn hunk of metal. They could deal with the Doom Slayer and his A.I. spokesman later. She turned to the others and spoke as everyone slowly lowered their weapons, all seemingly getting the same idea.

"If Wren gets access to the ship's network, he could really screw us. We need to get to get access before he does and shut him out."

"There's no consoles on this level, though," Distephano said contemplatively. "And without Wren's access codes, we can't get through most of the areas since the ship is on lockdown."

Ripley thought for a moment, then turned her attention to Call, an idea forming in her mind.

"Call…"

"No," Call said, shaking her head fervently. "I can't…"

"Wait, yeah!" Johner said. "You're the latest model! You can access the mainframe remotely!"

"No," Call said, her voice shaking. "I burnt my modem, we all did. Wireless access is impossible for me."

Ripley narrowed her eyes at the girl again. For a droid, she wasn't very good at concealing her emotions. Her excuses for being unable to access the mainframe almost seemed to come from a fear of doing so. Was she even programmed to feel fear?

"Call," Vreiss said, his voice gentle from his seated position against the wall. "You can still jack in manually. You know that."

"That will not be necessary," came the voice of the A.I. in the armor. What was its name, again? Vegan or something?

"I am able to wirelessly interface with the mainframe of the ship and have already shut down any access terminals nearby. The Auriga's A.I. attempted to halt my progress, but I have suppressed him for now. I have also read all of the documentation of the experiments conducted on this ship. Many of these documents refer to creatures called Xenomorphs, and I can assume that those are the unidentified signatures I'm reading?"

"Bingo," Ripley said, placing a hand on her hip bemusedly. "You know, you're pretty sharp for an A.I."

"Thank you, Ellen Ripley," the voice replied courteously, and Ripley stiffened at the A.I.'s knowledge of her name. The A.I. seemed to notice this and spoke again.

"I have gone over all the documentation regarding you as well. You are a clone of the original Ellen Ripley, but due to the presence of the Xenomorph embryo within you at the time you were sampled, a few alterations were found in your genetic code. That explains why I have been reading irregular signatures from your body."

Now it was Ripley's turn to shift uncomfortably. She didn't exactly feel keen on having this A.I. know every little detail about her.

"Glad to see you're caught up," she said shortly. "But now, we need a way to exterminate those Xenomorphs before this ship docks back on Earth. I don't suppose you or your silent buddy there have a way of handling that.

In response to her question, the Doom Slayer suddenly pulled a shotgun seemingly from his ass and held it in his hands. Pumping the shotgun, the Doom Slayer tilted his head upward toward Ripley, his gesture somehow possessing an air of confidence to it despite the fact that he had yet to say a word.

Johner laughed next to her. "I gotta say, I'm starting to like this guy! I think him and I are going to get along just fine!"

He quieted down again under the Doom Slayer's gaze, and VEGA chose that moment to speak up once again.

"You can leave the extermination to the Doom Slayer. However, our priority at the moment should be getting you all safely off this ship. From the data logs, it appears that there is a small vessel in the hangar bay that is capable of escaping.

"That's the Betty," Johner confirmed with a nod. "If you can get us there, then we can get off this ship and away from those nightmares!"

Suddenly, Purvis began convulsing next to them, his breath suddenly coming in short rasps as he leaned back against the wall for support. In a heartbeat, Johner and Distephano had their weapons trained on him as he clutched his midsection. Ripley watched him carefully, expecting his chest to burst open with a newborn Xenomorph at any time.

Purvis convulsed a few more times, then he slowly began to relax, his breathing returning to normal levels and his body slumping against the wall.

"I'm…I'm fine," he said with a deep breath. "I'm ok. I'm ok, really."

Johner and Distephano both eyed him warily, then slowly lowered their firearms.

"Whatever your plan is to get us out of here, VEGA, we better move fast. This guy ain't got much time left, and we got to get him to a stasis pod before he explodes."

"I agree," VEGA replied, causing Purvis to shoot them all a horrified glare. "I am bringing the Betty's engines online now, as well as opening any remaining doors between our location and the hangar."

As VEGA spoke, one of the nearby doors opened at his command. Ripley smirked and shook her head at the sight. For the first time today, something seemed to be going right.

"Gotta hand it to you, big guy," she said addressing the Doom Slayer. "Your A.I. is versatile."

The Doom Slayer said nothing, but turned and gave Ripley a nod in agreement.

…

Wren angrily punched the console. None of his access codes appeared to be working, and he was growing more and more frustrated with it by the minute.

"Father," Wren said aloud, calling out to the ship's A.I. "I have lost power to every console I've come across. Analyze and respond."

Silence echoed throughout the halls.

"Father?"

"I apologize, Dr. Wren," came a sudden voice from the intercom that Wren did not recognize. "But I have reason to believe that you are attempting to work against us. I have deactivated Father as a result."

"What?! Who is this?" Wren demanded.

"I would answer, Dr. Wren," but there are Xenomorphs en route to your position. It is my suggestion that you relocate yourself if you wish to survive."

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me who the hell you are!" Wren shouted indignantly, his voice echoing throughout the halls of the Auriga.

The only response came from a blood-chilling hiss from Wren's left side. His eyes snapped open in fear of the familiar noise, but before he could turn to aim his weapon, a nightmarish creature pounced on him and tore at his body. All Wren could do in response was scream as his blood splattered against the walls.

…

Ripley hesitated for a brief moment, her connection to the Xenomorph hivemind giving her reason to pause as she felt a distinct shift in her neural connection. Her reaction had not gone unnoticed by the Doom Slayer, and he turned his helmet toward her. She saw her reflection in his visor and waved her hand dismissively. Even though VEGA had done all of the talking so far, Ripley could tell that the Doom Slayer was no dummy. There appeared to be nothing that he could not see, one of which was Ripley's connection to the Xenomorph queen. At that moment, the group was traversing down the passageways towards the hangar, with the Slayer taking point. Vreiss was strapped to his armored back, and the paraplegic mechanic coughed once and spoke up as the Slayer turned his gaze away from Ripley.

"So uh, Doom Slayer guy, you don't really talk much, do you?"

The Doom Slayer said nothing.

"Right…so, VEGA, do you speak for him?"

"I do not speak for the Doom Slayer," VEGA said. "While I do speak on behalf of both of us at times, the Doom Slayer is more than capable of communicating when he deems it necessary."

"So, let me ask you then," Vreiss said, talking over his shoulder from the Doom Slayer's back. "You really think you can kill all of these alien bastards by yourself? No offense, but you've never fought these things before, and they can kill even an armored guy like you pretty easily if they get the drop on you."

As expected, the Doom Slayer said nothing. Instead, he reached behind himself and snatched Vreiss's weapon out of his hands. Ignoring the cripple's protests, the Slayer grasped both ends of the makeshift gun and snapped it in half with a loud crack, stunning everyone in the group at the display. The weapon itself had not been slender by any accounts, and Ripley consciously noted that she would need nothing short of a hydraulic press to achieve what the Slayer had done with his own two hands.

Reaching back behind himself, the Slayer returned the two weapon pieces to Vreiss, whose shock quickly turned to anger at seeing his homemade weapon now rendered useless.

"What the fuck?! You could've just pried open a door or something! You know how hard it was to make that thing from scratch? I was digging through parts for weeks!"

Johner and Distephano laughed heartily at Vreiss's turmoil, and Johner tossed one of his pistols to the whining man.

"But it wouldn't have gotten his point across nearly as well, eh Vreiss?" he said through his chuckling.

"To build off of the substantial evidence already provided by the Doom Slayer," VEGA said. "I have studied the numerous files on this ship relating to the Xenomorphs. Their anatomy, as well as behavior and intelligence, classify them as parasitic in nature. Though this instance might be different, the Doom Slayer has had a large number of altercations with similar enemies in the past. I am confident that we will be able to exterminate them swiftly and efficiently."

"Wait," Call said. "You mean you've encountered something worse than these things?"

Purvis walked next to her, and Ripley saw him glance nervously from Call to the Doom Slayer like VEGA's answer was to decide the fate of the universe.

"It is too early to say for certain, but I would say yes based on my calculations."

Ripley couldn't help but enjoy the charisma radiating from the pair as VEGA spoke. The Doom Slayer was the strong but silent type, with extra emphasis on the strong part, and VEGA was an A.I. that could carry on a conversation better than most humans, portraying a calm and collected demeanor at all times that Ripley enjoyed immensely given the grim nature of their current situation. Looking back, however, Ripley saw that some of the group was not as comforted as she was. Call in particular. Feeling a tug in her gut, Ripley fell back and into stride with the Auton, who spared her a glance before turning her gaze to the floor again.

"How's your wound?" Ripley asked, trying to seem as gentle as possible despite their difference in height by almost a foot.

Call shrugged and hunched her shoulders, but Ripley saw her just barely wince at the motion.

"Let's see it," she said, reaching out to her.

"Don't touch me," Call said, recoiling.

"Oh, stop it," Ripley said sternly, and Call relented this time as she inspected the wound. It was large to be sure, and a few miscellaneous composite materials hung free from the gaping hole. As they continued to walk down the halls, Ripley did her best to clean the wound, removing as much stray material as possible so that there were no lose pieces remaining. Call looked at her curiously as she worked.

"How can you keep on living, knowing what you are?" she asked suddenly. Ripley looked up at her, not knowing if Call was referring to her status as a clone of the original Ripley or the fact that she shared DNA with killer space aliens. Deciding that it was probably a little bit of both, Ripley gave a small smile.

"Don't really have much of a choice, do I?" she asked.

"Yes, you do," Call replied, and Ripley smirked at the implication despite its morbidity.

"I gave the whole dying thing a try about 200 years ago," she said. "Lot of good that did me, huh?"

To her satisfaction, Call actually let out a small laugh, and Ripley laughed along with her. It felt good. Call's face then dropped once more.

"At least part of you is human. I'm just… well look at me. I'm disgusting."

Ripley placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her head.

"I don't know if you've noticed, kiddo, but non-humans are kind of winning the day right now."

Ripley gestured towards the Doom Slayer and by extension VEGA. Call followed the gesture, then sighed.

"That's just one example…"

"Could be two," Ripley said with a shrug. "In fact, I'm betting its two because I seriously doubt that someone with a name like 'The Doom Slayer' could be a human."

Call smiled again and lifted her chin up, her posture displaying a bit more confidence at Ripley's words. Then it was gone again, but this time, it was replaced with a look of terror. Ripley frowned and followed her gaze.

They had reached the hangar at last, VEGA's manipulation of the mainframe allowing them to make excellent time through the halls. Ahead loomed the Betty, her lights on and her engines already ignited thanks to VEGA. There existed only one problem, however. Between their small group and the ship, half a dozen full-grown Xenomorphs appeared, their blackened skin and feral postures giving them an extremely intimidating look as they turned and noticed the group approaching.

Seeing that the pack had picked them out, the group came to a stop, not wanting to get any closer than what was necessary to the nightmarish creatures. Ripley frowned at seeing them all here. How could they have possibly known how to find the group? With a start, she realized that her neural connection to the queen must have been a two-way street, the mother of the Xenomorphs having been in her head and deducing their plans.

Shit.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ripley saw the Doom Slayer remove Vreiss from his back and set him down against the wall. With an audible crunching of metal and composite, the Doom Slayer produced his shotgun once more and pumped a round into the chamber.

"The Xenomorphs have highly acidic blood," came VEGA's voice. "I suggest that we utilize a weapon that will minimize blood splatter in this scenario."

Ripley barely noticed, but the Doom Slayer almost seemed dejected at VEGA's words. Putting his shotgun away, Ripley saw him exchange it for another weapon that she didn't recognize. The weapon was not much larger than a shotgun, but it was almost futuristic in design, giving a clean and bright look that contrasted the Slayer's dark green armor. The Doom Slayer never took his gaze from the Xenomorphs as they hissed at the approaching group, but he gestured over his shoulder to Distephano and Johner before making a shooting gesture.

"We'll cover your back, big guy," Distephano replied confidently as he swung his weapon from his shoulder and leveled it towards the aliens. Johner grunted in agreement.

Without any further warning, the Doom Slayer charged into the hanger, startling the members of the group as well as the Xenomorphs present in the chamber.

Crossing the distance at a speed that shouldn't have been possible, Ripley's eyes widened as the Doom Slayer lowered his shoulder and barreled through the closest two aliens. The creatures screeched in agony and were sent airborne by the force of his strike, but the Doom Slayer was unfazed. The two aliens he hit landed on the ground with a sickening crunch, the force of the Doom Slayer's impact shattering most of their bones. Though they were still alive, the Doom Slayer had already turned his attention from them, raising his strange-looking rifle and opening fire on the third Xenomorph.

A stream of what looked like plasma rounds burst from the rifle, and the targeted Xenomorph screamed as the rounds burned through its skin like lava, immediately cauterizing every hole that they made. Under the Slayer's continued fire, the Xenomorph pitched sideways and died as its wounds became too great. The sudden death of their comrade seemed to spur the other Xenomorphs into action, and they all roared and lunged for their humanoid opponent.

As the first one reached out with its long claws, the Slayer put away his plasma rifle and intercepted the creature, smashing both of his fists on either side of the Xenomorph's head. The weight behind his blows caused the creature's skull to crumple, and grey matter and blood squirted from the top of the Xenomorph's head as its skull caved in. The creature died before it even hit the ground.

As the Slayer rounded on the two standing Xenomorphs left, a barrage of shots rang out and tore through the aliens, both Distephano and Johner firing their weapons at their designated targets. The Xenomorphs screeched in agony, but a few well-placed headshots dropped them shortly after.

After sparing an appreciative glance in their direction, the Slayer returned to the two Xenomorphs he had hit with his shoulder. The aliens screeched in agony and tried to swipe at him, but their broken bodies refused to comply, leaving them writhing on the ground as they struggled to right themselves.

Without hesitation, the Doom Slayer brought his boot down hard onto the first Xenomorph's neck, and with a loud pop, the alien's head detached from its body, rolling across the floor of the hangar to rest against the wall. The creature's headless body fell still.

The remaining Xenomorph gave an enraged screech in the Slayer's direction, but the extra noise did little to intimidate the armored man, and with a sickening rip, the Slayer had torn the tip of the alien's tail off. The alien cried out in pain, but its suffering was quickly cut short as the Slayer took the sharpened tip of the tail and drove it deep into the creature's skull, causing it to go limp immediately.

The group gaped at him as he scanned for more opponents but found none. With a start, Ripley realized that the Slayer had killed six Xenomorphs in less than a minute, with half of them killed with just his bare hands.

"Jesus Christ," mumbled Johner as the Slayer beckoned them over, the abrasive man finally at a loss for words. Ripley tried to savor the experience as much as she could.

"Now where the hell do I learn to do something like that?" Distephano said as the group converged on the Doom Slayer. As they all gathered around him, Ripley noted with a chuckle that she and the Doom Slayer stood at roughly the same height, but when he was in battle, the Slayer almost appeared to be larger than life, his overwhelming strength and agility giving him an intimidating aura for all that witnessed it.

"The Betty is fueled and ready for immediate extraction," came VEGA's voice. "I suggest everyone depart as quickly as possible. The Doom Slayer and I will cover your escape."

"W—wait a minute!" Purvis said. "What about you? What are you going to do once you've cleared out the Xenomorphs?"

"Once the infestation is cleared, the Doom Slayer and I will make a jump to the next dimension. Our destination will again be at random, but we must continue to do so if we can hope to return to our original dimension."

"So, this is goodbye then?" Call said, her voice betraying a regretful tone.

"Well, well! Aren't you just a fuckin' softie!" Johner laughed, slapping Call on the back.

"To answer your question, Annalee Call: Yes, I believe this is goodbye," VEGA said.

Everyone shared a brief moment of silence, then Distephano stepped forward and offered his hand to the Doom Slayer, who grasped it in an armored gauntlet and shook firmly.

"You saved our bacon even though you never met us before," he said with a nod. "That means something to me. Thank you."

He then turned and boarded the Betty, and everyone took their turn saying goodbye to VEGA and the Doom Slayer, Johner and Vreiss cracking jokes about his strength while Purvis and Call gave an apprehensive thanks before hastily climbing aboard.

Ripley was the last one, and as the Slayer turned toward her expectantly, she shook her head and gave him a smile.

"I've been through a lot recently, but you already know that. You read my file after all."

Neither the Slayer nor VEGA said anything, giving Ripley a chance to continue.

"That being said, I'm glad you boys showed up to lend a hand. Without your timely arrival, who knows what could have happened to us."

Her tone then took a more serious route, and she looked directly into the Doom Slayer's visor as she continued.

"These creatures, I've dealt with them before. My memory is still fuzzy in some parts, but I remember eventually dying thanks to them. So, I guess the biggest thing I can say is: Be careful. I can still feel my connection to their queen, and while I don't know exactly what she's up to, I can tell she's getting ready for something, almost in anticipation. But she's…she's also in pain."

Her gaze went vacant for a moment as she homed in on the queen, but she caught herself and refocused, the Doom Slayer giving her a nod as she finished.

"Thank you for your warning, Ellen Ripley," VEGA said through the armor. "I have detected an enigmatic signature nearby, and I believe it is safe to assume that it is the queen. We will approach with caution once you all get clear."

Ripley gave a smile in thanks, then she shook hands with the Doom Slayer before she climbed on board the Betty. With a final nod, the hatch closed behind her, and she watched from a nearby viewing port as Vreiss began the ignition sequence. As the Betty left the hangar, Ripley watched the Auriga grow smaller, and in turn, her connection to the queen began to weaken as well. Soon, it became so small that she barely even noticed it, leaving only her own thoughts in her head for the first time.

…

VEGA multitasked as the Slayer jogged through the abandoned halls of the Auriga. A myriad of blueprints, experiment logs, and anatomic data passed through his gaze simultaneously, the A.I. taking full advantage of the new information offered to him by this universe. The experimental logs on the Xenomorphs, while being highly unethical, were fascinating to VEGA, as the A.I. experienced an emotion similar to excitement at delving into the new data. His experiences with Ellen Ripley had also offered him insight to the deadly creatures, as the United Systems Military had also experimented on her as well. She had been the eighth attempt at the cloning process, with six of the other seven dying during their genesis. The remaining one was listed as still alive in the records, but VEGA detected no heat signatures apart from the remaining Xenomorphs on board the ship. That number was decreasing fast, however, as the Doom Slayer hunted them down with great prejudice. In addition to the Xenomorphs, VEGA also noted that many 'Face Hugger' eggs, as they had been named by the USM, were still alive throughout the ship. Those were disposed of just as easily.

Before long, only two heat signatures remained, their presence drawing the Doom Slayer into the very deepest part of the ship as he angrily ripped a Xenomorph's jawed tongue from its mouth. VEGA expected the Xenomorph queen to be waiting for them as they continued. As the Doom Slayer approached their final destination, VEGA noted that while one of the two remaining life forces appeared to be growing stronger, the other was growing weaker. In fact, the two signatures were almost linked to each other, and while VEGA formed hundreds of theories on the subject, once stood out above the rest. All he required now was visual confirmation.

The Doom Slayer rounded another corner, and VEGA finally laid 'eyes' on the Xenomorph queen. This Xenomorph was much larger than others and possessed a much larger head that spanned outward into flat edges. Immediately, VEGA noted that the queen was immobile, and that a large flesh capsule of sorts bulged from her lower body. Seeing the sack firsthand, VEGA confirmed his theory: This Xenomorph queen had been birthed using the DNA of Ellen Ripley, and just as Ripley herself possessed Xenomorph traits, the reverse was true as well. This alien had evolved to accommodate a human-like reproductive in addition to laying the numerous eggs that the Slayer had been destroying. The creature inside the flesh sack was a result of the additional reproduction process and had been the secondary life force that VEGA had been monitoring.

The queen had not noticed the Slayer has he stepped into the large chamber, as at that moment the flesh sac connected to her began to pulse and move about wildly, the creature inside beginning the process of birth.

The queen roared in pain as the birthing process continued, the flesh sac bulging out further and further until it finally ruptured. Another roar sounded, mixing with the queen's roars of agonized birthing, and before the Doom Slayer emerged a Xenomorph that was vastly different than the ones that they'd encountered so far.

VEGA immediately analyzed the new creature, its stark white skin in definite contrast to the common darker hue of standard Xenomorphs. It's bone structure and physical features varied greatly as well, VEGA noticing that the creature's anatomy was a mixture of Xenomorph and human commonalities. Lastly, VEGA analyzed the roar that the creature sounded as it emerged from the 'womb' of the queen. Its vocal patterns were mostly Xenomorph, but as VEGA quickly realized, the frequency of its voice possessed a greater variety. A variety matched only by the vocal cords found in a human. With all of this information, VEGA's theory was even further solidified. This new creature was an exact hybrid of human and Xenomorph DNA, both genomes combining to create an entirely new species.

The creature turned at the trumpeting of its mother's call, the queen's screeches of agony taking on a higher pitch associated with connection and familiarity. VEGA anticipated such a reaction, as one of the gene sets that Ripley had passed on to the Xenomorph queen had been that of maternal instincts. The queen no doubt felt a deep bond with her newborn, and the hybrid leaned in closely as its mother inspected it. The two shared a moment of familiarity, once again matching VEGA's prediction. Now came the ambiguous part. The new hybrid Xenomorph possessed the imprinting genes of the aliens, which caused certain animals to immediately identify and accept their maternal figures, but it also possessed the genes associated with mammals in which a familiarization period would be necessary before it accepted its parent. The question that remained was which would prevail.

With a trumpeting cry, the newborn attacked its mother, tearing at her flesh with incredibly sharp claws and strength that combined humanity and Xenomorphs. Green blood spurted from the mother's wounds, and her cries of agony began anew as her child rejected her violently. Slowly her life force died, leaving only the hybrid behind. It was then that it noticed the Doom Slayer for the first time.

In his programming, VEGA registered a very human-like relaxation in the hybrid's posture as it examined the armored figure. The creature felt an innate sense of familiarity with the Doom Slayer, and VEGA now knew exactly why. The creature had retained the Xenomorph behavior of imprinting, but upon mixing the human and alien DNA, it had given the creature a warped instinct. Instead of imprinting on the physical features of a Xenomorph, it imprinted on the stature of a human, which in turn made it instantly recognize the Doom Slayer as a possible candidate for its mother. The Doom Slayer seemed almost as intrigued as VEGA was, and he held his shotgun in a relaxed manner as the hybrid came closer, its breathing slow and controlled.

For a moment, VEGA entertained the possibility that a full imprinting had occurred, but as the massive hybrid drew close enough to make out distinct features on the Slayer's armor, its expression suddenly hardened again. With an enraged roar, the newborn immediately adopted a hostile approach to the Slayer, and VEGA remembered that a full imprinting could only occur if the individual possessed the common traits of the female of the species. As the Slayer had none, the hybrid had failed to fully imprint, and now it lunged for the Slayer with the same ill intent that it had previously shown its mother.

In a flash, the shotgun was up, and there existed hardly a fraction of a second before the weapon kicked in the Slayer's hands. The hybrid's skull exploded from the blast, and its body tumbled to the floor a moment later, its life ending just as quickly as it had begun. With the last life force extinguished, the Auriga fell silent. The dead air lingering throughout the corridors.

For a moment, silence reigned, then VEGA spoke directly to the Doom Slayer through the Praetor Suit.

"The ship is set to dock on Earth in less than an hour. Given the nature of these experiments and how they began, it is my recommendation that we destroy the Auriga before it returns home. It would be wise to erase all evidence of the project so that it cannot be repeated.

The Doom Slayer did not respond, but VEGA knew him well enough to see that he agreed. All that was left was to somehow start a chain reaction that would be enough to destroy the entire ship. Of all the weapons the Doom Slayer possessed, only one of them was capable of delivering the firepower they needed to start that chain reaction.

The Doom Slayer pulled out the BFG and made his way to the ship's core. No one witnessed the events that followed, but if they had, they'd describe a bright flash of green light erupting from the center of the ship, followed by a series of explosions that tore the vessel to pieces. After the smoke and fire faded away, one might have been able to catch a glimpse of a much smaller flash of blue light before all fell still once again.

Notes:

A/N: And scene! As many of you have probably guessed, this chapter shows an alternate sequence of events of the film Alien: Resurrection. The decision to throw the Slayer into the events of this film stemmed from my desire to have him meet Ripley as well as have a formidable amount of Xenomorphs to kill. With that in mind, the first and third alien movies were out due to the limited amount of the creatures (although it would have been fun to see the Slayer waltz into the prison facility from the third movie and kill the alien straightup, wouldn't it? Cut the runtime of the movie down to 25 minutes...), so that left the second and fourth movies, which was a tough decision for me. Eventually I decided on this one, and this chapter was written. As always be sure to tell me what you though of my chapter by dropping a review, as I'm always looking to improve my writing. See you guys next time!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 25: Edge of Tomorrow

Notes:

A/N: Heyo! I'm back with a new chapter! For this one, the Doom Slayer has arrived at the Edge of Tomorrow, and you wouldn't want to see him when he's pushed to the edge...haha...get it? Anyway, please enjoy! Remember that I own nothing!

William Cage leapt over a sand dune at a speed that was impossible for any human to achieve, his Jacket enhancing his physicality to superhuman levels. The powered exoskeleton provided much more than additional protection in combat, and for that, Cage was extremely thankful. Any human that thought it could take on a Mimic without a Jacket was kidding themselves.

Ahead, Cage saw a wild disturbance in the sand, something getting ready to burst from beneath the surface.

Speaking of Mimics…

With an otherworldly shriek, the alien broke through the surface, already moving at speeds nearly too quick to follow. Fortunately for Cage, he had spent countless days-or rather, the amount of time equivalent to that-training to fight against them. He also had the luxury of surprise, as the Mimic had not known that he was there. In contrast, Cage had memorized that Mimic's location almost a lifetime ago.

Using the superior athleticism awarded by his Jacket once more, Cage jumped high into the air, using the momentum awarded to him upon landing to crush the creature with his armored fist. The Mimic died immediately, its corpse shriveling up and hardening in an almost concreate-like nature. Its tentacles all shivered wildly and pointed to the dark grey sky as it died, a sight not dissimilar to most insects when they were found dead on the windowsill.

Despite the relative expediency of the kill, Cage took no time to revel in his achievement. Knowing his luck, he'd have to kill that exact same Mimic indefinitely, or at least until he completed his mission. Right now, that mission was to get the hell off this godforsaken beach.

Turning his head, Cage saw Rita Vrataski, the "Angel of Verdun", set upon another Mimic with similar success, swinging her short sword expertly to fend off any piercing attacks the Mimic threw at her. The creature's movement seemed unpredictable to the naked eye, but to one who had witnessed them in action countless times, there were subtle 'tells' that gave away a Mimic's next move before they made it, similar to how a boxer could see a quick jab coming before their opponent even began the motion. Ducking under one of the creature's thrusting tentacles, Rita swung her sword in a wide arc, cleaving the Mimic in two. The weapon itself was overtly large and was much heavier than any standard sword. It had been made from an aircraft wing, though Cage had not bothered to ask the details of its creation to her. It should have been unwieldy given its size and weight, but Rita wielded it with no trouble, a perk awarded to her by the Jacket that she was also adorned in.

All around them, humans fought and died wearing the exact same suits, not having the countless hours of training and experience that Cage and Rita did. Cage pushed them from his mind, knowing that they would continue to live and die over and over again just as he did, his curse making sure of that every time. How many times had he reset now? Hundreds? Thousands, maybe?

Cage turned away from his thoughts and waited a beat, remembering that the next Mimic always had a delayed entry by a few seconds. Rita turned as well and engaged another hostile, keeping to the choreography that the two of them had practiced over and over the day before. Cage paused for a moment more, then raised his right arm, aiming the mounted assault rifle at a spot in the sand as it began to move. Squeezing the trigger, the rifle kicked and spewed a barrage of bullets into the sand, the Mimic yowling in surprise as it began to take damage before completely surfacing. The wounded alien desperately attempting to claw its way out, but Cage kept the weapon trained on it, continuing to pump rounds into the writhing creature. After a few prolonged seconds, the Mimic died, as Cage had already seen it do a million times. Whirling around once more, Cage burst into a sprint and tackled another Mimic as it made for an unaware soldier in a Jacket.

Driving with the weight of the suit, Cage landed hard on top of the creature and pounded on it with his armored fists, silencing its piercing shrills. In a flash, Rita was at his side, her breathing labored as her body struggled to keep up with the exertion of battle. Cage understood; he was breathing hard too. The Jacket was perfect for enhancing the user's strength, but it still required effort to operate. Unfortunately for Cage, he was not able to build up stamina over the course of his resets, giving him the exact same poor physicality he'd possessed as an officer each time he went into battle.

"What's next?" Rita asked through labored gasps, her eyes darting urgently over to him. Cage took a moment to catch his breath, then gestured tiredly to the ground as it rose upward in an incline before them, remembering what came next in the repeated sequence of this battle.

"There's a Mimic buried up the hill," he said. "But it doesn't surface until we get close. You flank left, while I draw its fire with…"

Cage abruptly cut off, frowning as he saw something appear in the sky. It was a massive fireball, and it was heading straight for the hill in front of them.

"Cage?" Rita asked, shaking his shoulder as the sounds of war continued around them. "What is it?"

Cage stared, his eyes fixated on the fireball as it came closer.

"That…that shouldn't be there…"

Rita frowned and followed his gaze, her eyes squinting in confusion as the fireball seemed to be increasing its speed. In front of them on the hill, the sand began to shift, the Mimic finally making its appearance with a bloodthirsty shriek.

As it broke through, the fireball crashed directly into it, lifting both Cage and Rita off their feet as sand exploded from the impact point. Cage shielded his eyes with his arm as sand rained down around him, and he stared incredulously at the crash site when his vision cleared.

The hill had been completely leveled, the force of the meteor blasting away anything nearby and now rendering it into a massive crater. Looking down into the crevice, Cage frowned as a figure wreathed in smoke stood up, its silhouette bulky and jagged, but unmistakably human-like.

"I don't understand…" Cage mumbled to himself as the smoke cleared. "This hasn't happened before…"

The smoke dissipated, and Cage's confusion worsened as he made out details of the figure for the first time. Its humanoid stature was covered completely by a suit of dark green armor, and though it looked manmade, it did not match any combat gear that Cage recognized. The figure was appeared unarmed, and it looked about its surroundings with an air of slight disorientation.

"Cage!" Rita yelled, looking down into the crater beside him. "What is that? Why didn't you tell me about this?!"

"It's never happened before," Cage said, shaking his head in disbelief. He had repeated this sequence hundreds of times, and never before had this happened. The humanoid had never appeared to him before, not even in his visions.

Cage heard a commotion from the far edge of the crater, and he saw a large pack of Mimics gathering at the edge. The figure heard them as well and turned its visor in their direction. With an enraged shriek, the Mimics charged down into the crater with murderous intent, the figure being their only target.

Abruptly, the figure was in motion, producing a weapon that Cage did not recognize and dashing to meet its numerous foes. Glancing closer at the weapon, Cage saw that it vaguely resembled an assault rifle of some kind, the main difference being that there appeared to be a chainsaw in place of a standard bayonet. Cage saw Rita frown out of the corner of his eye.

The figure raised the weapon to its shoulder and fired as it ran, gaining speed even faster than one could in a Jacket. Was its strange suit some sort of variant that had just been released? Cage didn't see any similarities between the armor the figure wore and the standard issue Jackets adorned by Rita and himself.

Turning his attention back to the weapon the stranger carried, Cage saw that it was obviously of a high caliber, as entire chunks of Mimics came off when the figure fired upon them. The aliens in the front of the charge received the worst of it, stumbling and dying quickly. The others behind paid them no attention and trampled over their bodies in an effort to tear at the figure.

Shifting the weight of the weapon, the figure wrenched at a lever Cage couldn't see, and the chainsaw bayonet roared to life. As the first Mimics reached the figure, it swung the weapon and powerfully cleaved two of them apart. They both died immediately, and the figure drove forward again with the weapon, setting upon the other creatures with a vigor that quickly evolved into fury. And yet, as Cage looked on dumfounded, it seemed like the figure was tearing through the Mimic horde with barely any effort. One Mimic made it past the chainsaw bayonet's range, and as it thrusted outward with one of its tentacles, the figure instantly intercepted the piercing stab with a hand, grabbing the limb firmly and wrenching the Mimic towards him. The alien was obviously not strong enough to struggle, and it yowled as the figure pulled it from the ground and swung it like a large sack of nickels. The other Mimics clamored in response, and the figure swung their airborne comrade into them with enough force to knock them away while crushing several others.

The chainsaw instantaneously came back up as the figure let go of the Mimic, and the remaining creatures where quickly shredded into halves or thirds, the figure finishing off any that refused to die with an armored boot to their skulls. After a quick scan of the area, the figure turned and noticed Cage and Rita for the first time, the two of them crouching on the other edge of the crater and looking in. The figure then completely turned towards them and began walking in their direction, focusing its gaze on Cage with an intensity that made him uncomfortable.

"Wha-?"

Cage's question died in his throat as a Mimic ordinance arced through the air and pierced his neck, killing him instantly.

…

Cage startled awake, his hands once again in the cuffs that were a constant reminderof his reset. After the first ten times, he had gotten used to them being there when he woke up, but he didn't think he'd ever learn to enjoy them.

Sitting up, Cage's thoughts returned to what had happened before he reset. Just where had that figure come from? He had reset so many times, and never before had he encountered it. Was it a mimic? No, it had killed the Mimics…

Sitting up, Cage absently gazed out across the mass of soldiers that would die tomorrow again. The familiarity of the former Heathrow Airport comforting him, as his mind was still muddled by thoughts of that strange figure…

It was staring at him.

Cage's eyes snapped open at the sight, his body involuntarily flinching backward at the sight of the figure standing a few feet away. Its armor was clean, any trace of Mimic gone from its dark green surface. The chainsaw gun was gone too. Cage shook his head in disbelief. That thing had followed him through the reset somehow…

His mind racing, Cage was on his feet in a second, rushing toward the figure.

"Listen to me!" he said imploringly. He was only a bit shorter than the figure, and the visor tilted down to look at him as he came close. "I don't know who or what you are, but you can help me!"

The figure said nothing, still fixing its gaze intently on Cage.

"Find Rita Vrataski!" he Cage said. "Tell her about what just happened, how we've just reset! I'll meet you later, you can help me…!"

"Fall in line before I bust your hole with my boot heel, maggot!"

Cage hustled to comply with the Sergeant's command, already in a hurry to get these first parts over with. He spared a final glance at the figure, then turned to meet Master Sergeant Farell as he approached.

…

The attitude in the rifle range was a somber one. Everyone present knew that the war against the Mimics was not going well. If one was to look to their left and their right, they would see the faces of men and women that would likely not be alive in twenty-four hours, themselves included.

The attitude suddenly shifted however as an unknown figure stomped onto the range, its visor looking at each person in turn before moving on. The figure was armored, but in a strange suit that looked nothing like the Jackets that most others on deck wore. A couple arrogant souls frowned and taunted the figure as it scanned over them, but it paid them no mind, seemingly on a mission to find someone specific.

Moving quickly, the figure gazed downrange, seemingly noticing the metallic arms extending down from the ceiling. The arms were programmed to emulate the movement patterns of Mimics, and a claw-like attachment at their ends spun freely in a Mimic-like fashion to add a visual aspect. For most soldiers, target practice involved standing behind the firing line with their Jacket and learning to predict the moves, but as the figure searched on, one woman was found downrange, seemingly meditating as the false Mimics darted back and forth around her.

Without hesitation, the armored suit stepped over the firing line, confused and awed bystanders gathering behind and watching on as the figure seemed to demonstrate no regard for its personal safety. The Mimic arms were still moving, some at speeds that would kill a man if he were to be in the way, but the figure seemingly paid them no mind, instead making straight for the woman, who opened her eyes at the figure's approach.

There was a shout of warning from a few of the bystanders as a false Mimic surged across the range directly towards the figure, its claws extended in a way that could shatter bone if it made contact. Without turning its helmeted head, the figure swung its arm and backhanded the approaching arm with a closed fist. The blow had seemed almost nonchalant to the figure, but it was enough to tear the claw from the arm itself, the metal screeching as it yielded to the stranger's will. Bystanders scattered as the claw landed behind the firing line, but the figure continued its march forward, only stopping when it stood in front of the woman, who stared back in disbelief.

"Hello, Sergeant Vrataski," came a voice from a speaker on the figure's helmet. "We have much to discuss."

…

Cage jogged into the meeting room, feeling slightly off his game. Rita hadn't been at the rifle range this reset, which meant that the figure had gotten to her before he did. He had needed to backtrack and get to the meeting room in time.

Inside stood Doctor Carter as well as Rita and the strange figure, and they all turned to him as he came in.

"You were at the beach, tomorrow!" Cage said windily, pointing to the stranger. "You're never on the beach! How did you do that? Where did you come from?"

"Nice to meet you too, Cage," Rita said sarcastically. Cage shot her a glance, then turned back to the figure.

"William Cage," came a voice from the helmet. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I am VEGA, the Artificial Intelligence unit that is attached to this armor. The being inside the armor is the Doom Slayer."

Cage frowned as the A.I. explained that both it and the Doom Slayer had arrived in their timeline through a warping mechanism located in the stranger's suit. At first, Cage had been hesitant to believe such a wild story, but he then realized that he was really in no position to judge given that his own story involved the day resetting every time he died.

"Wait a minute," Cage said as VEGA finished speaking. "You're telling me that you came here from another dimension? Then why did you fall out of the sky like a giant meteor or something?"

"When we arrived," VEGA replied. "Our entrance point was approximately two hundred and fifty miles above Earth's surface. At the moment, we are currently unable to control our orientation when we arrive in a new universe, though we have been quite fortunate in the past to arrive on solid ground."

"So, you're saying that your destination is random every time you use your 'tether' thing?"

"That is correct."

Cage paused for a moment, absorbing all of this information. It was then that Doctor Carter spoke up, animatedly using his hands for emphasis.

"Hold on a moment! VEGA, Cage said that you arrived on the beach tomorrow. How is it possible that you jumped back through time with him? Your Doom Slayer friend doesn't have the same power that Cage does, and only the user's mind can jump through, so how did his armor and equipment all make it back to today as well?"

VEGA's voice was calm and showed not even a hint of annoyance as he responded.

"Though the UAC never achieved time travel, a common theory in chronology concerns a term called a 'temporal constant'. These constants dictate the flow of time in each dimension, and there exists at least one in each universe."

No one said anything as VEGA continued.

"From your files on these 'Mimic' creatures, I have deduced that the Omega you are searching for is a time constant, capable of altering the flow of time. However, when William Cage killed an Alpha, he absorbed the time constant into himself, granting him the abilities he now possesses."

"That still doesn't answer my question…" Doctor Carter mumbled.

"I will not go into the details, but I have theorized that when we came to this dimension, we began to exist in its time stream. However, when William Cage reset the day, there was nowhere for it to reset us, as we were not within this dimension a day ago. With nowhen to return to, the Doom Slayer was at risk of causing damage to the timeline as it tried to reset. As a solution we became anchored to the nearest temporal constant: William Cage."

Cage felt his brain frying behind his eyes, and a quick glance over to Rita showed a similar reaction. Even Doctor Carter appeared slightly miffed.

"If I were to give an example, I would tell you to imagine that everything in this universe has its own 'clock'," VEGA said. "A temporal constant is a clock that can control every clock but its own. So, if the temporal constant sends out a signal to all other clocks to turn back one day prior, all the clocks regress by twenty-four hours except for the temporal constant, allowing it to exist in a universe that is twenty-four hours behind it. This the phenomenon that occurs when you 'die', William Cage."

Cage nodded slowly, trying to wrap his head around the theory.

"When the Doom Slayer and I arrived in this dimension, our own clock synchronized with all the others, but when a signal was sent out to regress twenty-four hours, our clock was unable to do so, as it didn't exist in this universe twenty-four hours ago. Therefore, our clock continued ticking, synchronizing itself with the time constant. We are now unable to 'reset' with the rest of the universe. Instead, we will continue ticking forward in the same you do, William Cage."

There was a beat of silence.

"So, you'll follow me every time I reset?" Cage asked.

"That is correct."

Cage's eyes darted to Doctor Carter, who shrugged his shoulders.

"I suppose it is possible…" he mumbled.

"I would like to discuss these visions of yours, William Cage," VEGA said, already changing the subject. "It is my understanding that your mission is to destroy this 'Omega' creature, which is responsible for the Mimic invasion as well as your ability to reset the day. As you are connected with the Omega and have been seeing visions of its possible location, the Doom Slayer and I will endeavor to the location and destroy it. Your only objective will to remain alive long enough to give us time. If you die before we reach it, then the Doom Slayer and I will need to start again."

Cage's mind raced. Instead of attacking, all he needed to do was hold out long enough for the Doom Slayer to kill the Omega? That sounded so much easier to do, and Cage found himself nodding in response.

"We know where it is. Curnera Dam, located in Switzerland."

"Very well," VEGA said. "We will depart immediately. If we encounter no resistance, we can expect to arrive in approximately thirteen hours. However, as the Mimic horde will likely attempt to slow our assault, I expect that time to double."

"Twenty-six hours is cutting it close," Cage said. "London is overrun with Mimics in twenty-five. The invasion inevitably fails in twenty-three. You have to be quick."

The Doom Slayer looked over at Cage, who looked back and saw the man behind the helmet nod steadfastly. He understood how close they were for time.

"I'll go with you, Cage," Rita said with a nod. "With my help, hopefully you can stay alive a little longer."

Cage looked over at her, wishing that he could take comfort in her words. He tried to will away the countless memories he had of watching her die as they surfaced, but he had seen it happen too many times in too many different ways to forget something so easily. How many more times could he bear it? How many more before he lost his mind?

…

Cage grunted and swung his Jacketed fist into the skull of a Mimic, silencing its alien screeching. To his left, Rita fended off another with her sword, keeping the creatures at bay with the reach afforded to her by the blade.

Looking around, Cage gave an annoyed grunt at the sight of hundreds of Mimics closing in on them. They had taken refuge in London in an effort to buy more time for the Slayer, but the morning had passed with nothing happening, and the Mimics were now upon them in full force. There had been so many, and with the invasion force already decimated, Cage and Rita were fighting against the entire Mimic army.

Damn it, Slayer, where the hell are you?

Cage slammed another magazine into his rifle and opened fire on the horde, but his bullets may as well have been made of paper for all the difference the made.

"Cage!" he heard Rita call from his left. "You have to run! You have to buy more ti—"

Her call was cut short as a Mimic bolt blasted through her chest, and before Cage could cry out to her, another one pierced his cranium.

With a start, Cage jolted awake, his cry finally coming through his lips as he bounced up from his prone position on the ground. Suddenly, strong and incredibly annoyed hands grabbed him by his collar and hauled him to his feet. The Doom Slayer's armor appeared in his vision, and before Cage could say anything, the Slayer dragged him away before the sergeant even had the chance to berate him.

…

What do you mean it isn't there?!" Doctor Carter asked impatiently as they all stood in the meeting room. Their meeting time had been far earlier than usual, as the Doom Slayer had irritably hauled everyone into the room as soon as the reset happened. Now he stood with his fists clenched at his sides, obviously fuming.

"We arrived at the dam with ample time before the invasion began," VEGA said. "But there were no readings to indicate that the Omega was present. We scanned the interior, but there was a Mimic ambush waiting for us. An Alpha was present. We made certain not to kill the Alpha, but the Mimics knew we were coming. It is my belief that they were expecting William Cage to arrive so that they could ambush him and reclaim his power, but we arrived instead."

"So, that's it then…" Doctor Carter said, gesturing to Cage. "They know who you are now, and they're trying to get their power back, and we have no way of finding out where the Omega is."

"That's not true," Rita said, gesturing to an object on the table. Cage frowned and leaned forward to get a closer look, noticing that the object was of complex metal design with numerous smaller pieces that served some sort of purpose.

"No," Doctor Carter said with a sigh. "That device doesn't work. I can't get it to work, no matter how hard I try."

"You built a prototype at Whitehall," Rita said.

"Yes, I did," Doctor Carter said with another sigh. "And it got me fired, thank you very much!"

Walking forward, Cage curiously hefted the item in his hand.

"What is it?"

"It's a transponder. You stick it into an Alpha and it taps into the signal connecting it to the Omega. Or at least, that's the idea anyway. But I can't get it to work! Not with the equipment I have here!"

"Doctor Carter," VEGA chimed in. "What do you need to complete it?"

"Well, that's the thing. I was able to build a functioning one at Whitehall, and I was even ready to test it, but when I told my superiors about it, I lost my job. They thought I was insane!"

Cage shared a glance with Rita, then looked over to the Doom Slayer, who seemed to pick up on his thought process.

"So, all we need to do is go to Whitehall, then?"

"You'd be arrested as soon as you got within a hundred feet!" Doctor Carter exclaimed. "You'd need a small army to get inside!"

…

General Brigham looked over preparation reports behind his desk, double checking that everything was in order for the invasion tomorrow. So far, everything looked to be in place and ready. If they could hit the Mimic force quick and hard, then they just might have a chance at breaking through their lines and retaking Europe.

A commotion suddenly came from outside, and Brigham looked up inquisitively at the noise. A muffled yell reached his ears, and the general barely had any time to set his papers back on the desk before the double doors to his office burst inward with a loud crack. The wood splintered and fell, and Brigham's eyes shot open wide as a figure in dark green armor stepped through, Major William Cage and Sergeant Rita Vrataski flanking it on either side.

General Brigham stared at them both incredulously before gazing at the scene in the room beyond his office. Guards and MPs lay unconscious on the ground, with furniture overturned every which way and papers strewn everywhere. His eyes turned back to the armored figure just before it pushed him down into his desk chair. To its left, Sergeant Vrataski leveled a pistol to Brigham's head.

"Sit down, General," she said forcefully, even though Brigham had just been forced back into his seat. The general eyed the three of them, then decided to focus on Cage, who stepped forward and took a seat on the edge of his desk.

"I have to hand it to you, Major. When you left my office no less than twelve hours ago, I'd have never expected that you'd be back…"

Brigham's eyes flickered towards Sergeant Vrataski.

"…let alone with my most decorated soldier, and…?"

Brigham frowned in the direction of the armored figure.

"I'm afraid that introductions will have to wait, General Brigham," came a calm and reserved voice from the figure. "Right now, we need you to tell us what you have done with the Mimic transponder that Doctor Carter created. It is the same device that cost him is position on the UDF's Mimic Research Division.

Unconsciously, Brigham's eyes flitted to his personal safe on the wall. He stopped himself before he completely gave it away, but despite his best efforts, his eyes still moved a millimeter in the safe's direction.

The figure picked up on the gesture as though Brigham had pointed to the damn thing, and in an instant, the suit of armor crossed the room and ripped open the reinforced door to the safe. There was a brief pause, then the figure reached in and pulled out the transponder. Looking over and frowning once more, Brigham was finding himself more and more perplexed by this figure. Certainly, it was wearing some form of Jacket?

"Let me ask you Major," Brigham said, looking back towards Cage. "You obviously desire that thing enough that you're willing to break in here and assault my staff, but what good does that device do you? Doctor Carter informed me that it requires a live Mimic to work. Is there something you're not telling me?"

As Brigham spoke, the figure crossed the room again and activated a lever on the side of the device, causing multiple syringes nearly as long as a toothpick to extend from the front of it. Without a word, the figure jammed the syringes deep into Cage's leg, and the Major barely had time to cry out in pain before his eyes suddenly became an inky black. His cry died in his throat, and his vison suddenly became more focused, as though he was seeing something in the void that the rest of them could not. Brigham shot Sergeant Vrataski an inquisitive glance, but she had turned her attention from him and was now eying Cage with increasing curiosity.

"Major?" Brigham ventured.

"I…I see it," Cage whispered. "It's in the Louvre. Paris…"

Brigham's frown deepened. He was not following the man's words at all.

"It's under the museum!" Cage said as the figure removed the device from his leg. "It's in the Louvre, under the museum!"

"I am thankful to hear it," came the voice once more from the suit of armor. "We will make for it immediately after this reset."

"Wait, after this reset?" Cage asked quizzically. He turned his confused gaze to the figure, and the last thing the general saw was the figure level a rather menacing-looking shotgun to the major's head.

…

Cage opened his eyes and frowned. Did the Doom Slayer really just shoot him? Sitting up annoyedly, Cage was about to make a rude gesture to the armored man when he saw that he was alone. The Doom Slayer had already left after getting the information that he needed. No doubt he was making his way to Paris to deal with the Omega. With a frown, Cage remembered that the Louvre was probably the most well-guarded Mimic stronghold on the planet if the Omega was there. He should have insisted that he bring backup, as the Slayer was but one man…

"ON YOUR FEET, MAGGOT!"

Cage sighed, remembering that he still needed to survive the next twenty-four hours if the Doom Slayer was going to succeed in his mission.

…

The sun had gone down by the time the Louvre came into view, lengthening the Slayer's shadow as he marched forward through the rubble that had once been known as Paris. The building itself was easily identified by the glass pyramid that sat at its entrance. Inside his helmet, VEGA spoke.

"According to what few historical databases remain, the history of this Earth is identical to that of the Earth from our original dimension, the two histories diverging of course with the Mimic invasion. The Louvre we see now is likely identical to the one back on our Earth."

The Slayer cared little for that information, as it was of no importance to his current mission.

"I am detecting multiple heat signatures inside the structure, as well as one very large energy spike from within its depths. The Omega is most likely inside."

Now that was information the Slayer paid attention to, and he nodded for VEGA's benefit as he continued forward. His armor allowing him to walk easily among the rubble. The entire city had been destroyed, giving it a look that he had seen many times when he'd traveled worlds consumed by Hell. The thought alone made him angry, and the Slayer's grip tightened on the shotgun in his hands.

Suddenly, the air came alive with ordinance as thousands of Mimics burst from the walls, each one hurling their explosive spikes in his direction. But they may as well have been in slow motion, as the Slayer easily dodged their ranged attacks. He charged forward, pumping a new shell into his shotgun as Mimics poured down from the walls of the Louvre, each shrieking in their hostile and bloodcurdling tones.

These creatures were not nearly strong enough to bring him down with the numbers they possessed. Far stronger and far more numerous hordes had tried and failed before them, but this time was different. Mimics did not need to bring him down to win, they just needed to last until Cage was killed, then the Slayer would reset, and he would be forced to try again. He couldn't allow that to happen. He wouldn't allow that to happen. As the first Mimics lunged for him, the Slayer opened fire with his shotgun, and the foul creatures were sent flying as he bulldozed into the horde.

…

Cage stood on top of a building overlooking the Thames, his Jacket on and ready. Rita stood next to him, her sword resting easily over the top of her shoulder. Slowly, the sun was beginning to rise in the East, signaling the dawn of the new day. Cage had forgotten the number of times he had watched that exact sunrise, and he always knew that there was only an hour of it before the clouds rolled in, casting the country of England in a dull grey light.

A dismal weather for a dismal day, Cage thought to himself. To his left, the city of London sat, its citizens woefully unaware that they were about to be attacked by the greatest enemy they'd ever faced. The clock tower tolled its bell as Cage watched, signaling the top of the hour. They didn't have much time until the invasion force was overrun, and Cage silently clenched his fists and looked out to the East towards Paris. He could only hope that the Doom Slayer would reach the Louvre soon.

…

Another Mimic died as the Slayer crushed its head underneath his boot, its body shriveling up like the hundreds of others that he had already killed. Currently, he was using his Lancer for a combination of firepower and melee prowess, shearing through any Mimics that got to close while disposing of those that were far away with the high caliber rounds that the weapon fired. Despite his carnage, however, the creatures continued to pour from the inner depths of the Louvre, their darkened and writhing bodies covering the ground in a sea of murderous intent. The replaced their fallen comrades almost as quickly as the Doom Slayer could kill them.

Taking a grenade from his inventory, the Doom Slayer hurled it into a gasoline truck nearby, sending a blast of heat and fire across the sea of Mimics as they relentlessly attacked him. The explosion caused their advance to falter, and it bought the Slayer just enough time to change tactics. With an audible clanking noise, the Doom Slayer switched weapons. The chaingun appeared in his hands, and before the Mimics could renew their assault, the Doom Slayer activated the mobile turret mode on the weapon, splitting the continuous barrel into three smaller ones, tripling the speed of the already astounding fire rate of the weapon.

With a squeeze of the trigger, bullets gushed from the mobile turret, shredding into any and all Mimics nearby as brass spewed from the ejection port. With the capacity to fire 3,600 rounds per minute, the chaingun effectively walled off any further advancement by the Mimics, giving them the option to retreat or to be shredded to pieces by the weapon. As the horde faltered, the Doom Slayer switched weapons yet again. It was time to press the advantage…

…

Cage felt his stomach drop as he saw the river frothing with Mimics. Their time had come. The invasion force dead and gone, and the Mimics were now attacking London. They were still on the far side of the city, but Cage knew it was only a matter of minutes before they reached him. He shook his head and readied his weapons, sending a silent prayer to whoever was listening that the Slayer was almost there.

…

The plasma rifle let out a loud hiss, and a wave of searing heat burst from the weapon, knocking back the closest Mimics and completely burning their flesh away. Ignoring their agonized cries, the Slayer leapt over the dying aliens and dropped down into the Louvre itself, falling through a cracked section of concrete and down into an area with little visible light. The Mimic drones were likely to follow soon, but their advance had been slowed by the Slayer, as the combination of their reduced forces and their own bodies acting as obstacles would mean that they needed time to regroup and give chase. But that time only amounted to a minute at most. It was small, but it was all he needed.

To his left, the Slayer registered a different reading on his P.K.E. scanner, something more than the Mimics he had been fighting just now. Looking over, he spied what appeared to be a larger version of a Mimic. The creature stood as tall as a Baron of Hell, and it was almost as big. Its physical form pulsed with a dark blue color under its skin instead of the bright orange that normal Mimics possessed. And as the Slayer took it in, the creature slowly closed the distance between them, walking with a gait reserved for a predator stalking its prey.

"That is an Alpha," VEGA reminded him. "It is imperative that we do not kill it, as it will cause a reset that we will be unaware of, giving the Mimics an upper hand."

The Slayer nodded, surreptitiously pulling a device from his belt as he did so. The Alpha stopped a few feet away, and after a split second of stillness, it charged forward with blinding speed, its tentacles thrusting towards the Slayer.

It was fast, but he was faster. The item left his hand and burst against the Alpha's skin, and the creature collapsed as a charged ionic field leeched its very life force from its body. The Slayer knew it was not enough to kill it, and that it would only down the monster for a few moments.

"Interesting," VEGA mused as the Alpha struggled to right itself. "Though these creatures are not composed of Argent Energy, the siphon grenade still appears to have similar effects on them. It is unfortunate that I will be unable to study this phenomenon further."

The Slayer said nothing and looked to his right. An opening in the concrete sat nearby, dropping into a water-filled chasm below. Looking down into the chasm, the Slayer saw it. The Omega sat at the bottom, its body consisting of a spherical core that rotated and pulsed in the middle of an organic cradle of some kind.

"We will need to ensure its death," VEGA said, taking note of the pulsing mass at the bottom of the chasm. "Leaving anything to chance would be a grievous error on our part. I believe the best suitable term to use would be 'overkill'."

The Slayer nodded. Overkill was what he did best.

…

Cage activated his shoulder-mounted weapons and opened fire, giving both himself and Rita the chance to regroup against the approaching tide. Mimics swarmed over the ground towards them, the monstrous creatures climbing up the building they were currently holding out on. The advantage of the high ground would not last long however, as Mimics would soon have them surrounded on all four sides. Cage could hear the sound of concrete and glass being crushed as the creatures rushed up the walls, and he leaned over and fired a barrage of ordinance from his mounted arm cannon to help stem the assault.

"Cage!" Rita said from behind him, and Cage turned just in time to see Mimics crest the opposite ledge and charge towards them.

Cage growled deep in his throat and moved to stand back to back with Rita as the Mimics reached the top of their building and swarmed from all four sides. This was it. They would have to reset. There was no way they could hold out any longer.

The air suddenly rippled, as though a massive bubble had expanded through it, and each and every Mimic suddenly fell to the ground, writhing and seizing up as their bodies hardened and froze.

Cage stared in disbelief. They were dying. All of them. Looking out over the city, Cage saw the swarms of Mimics as reacting similarly, the entire sea of them suddenly halting and dying simultaneously.

He did it.

The Slayer had pulled it off. The Omega was dead.

"Cage…" Rita said, looking in his direction, her eyes seemed almost disbelieving, like she was hesitant to accept the scene before her.

Cage felt his face split into a grin. "He did it. Rita, he did it!"

Cage raised a Jacketed fist into the air triumphantly.

…

The Slayer stared down into the Chasm, the Omega's blood saturating the water and turning it into a deep purple. The creature was dead, and that in turn had decimated the Mimic horde, killing every Alpha and drone. His mission was complete. He began to raise his gauntleted fist, but VEGA's voice stayed his hand.

"If I may, I would like to examine the Omega's essence, as it bears a striking similarity to Argent Energy."

The Doom Slayer was hesitant. He had seen enough of what happened when someone meddled in what they couldn't control.

"If I can jack into the Omega's abilities, I may be able to save the invasion force." VEGA said simply.

The Slayer looked down into the bloodied water, then stepped forward and jumped down into the chasm.

…

Cage jolted awake, and his eyes instantly frowned in confusion. What happened? Did he just reset? He didn't remember dying, as the last thing to go through his mind was joy that the Mimics had been defeated. What just happened?

Looking around wildly, Cage saw that he was back in the meeting room. Rita and Doctor Carter stood across from him, and one glance told Cage that Rita was just as confused as he was.

"Rita?" he said tentatively. "Do you…?"

"I remember," she said, looking around. "What happened? I thought we won. Then we just reset to here."

"That is correct, Sergeant Vrataski," came a familiar voice from the console in front of them, and all three of them jumped at the sudden entrance of the voice. The holographic console suddenly changed, and a symbol appeared, hovering easily over the table. Cage didn't recognize the symbol itself, but the voice…

"VEGA?"

"Indeed."

"Where are you?" Doctor Carter asked, glancing around and trying to discern how VEGA was accessing the table.

"The Doom Slayer and I are currently still in the Louvre. We were able to access a wireless modem, so I am currently speaking to you from Paris."

"Did you find the Omega?" Rita asked, leaning forward and placing her hands on the table.

"Yes, and the Omega has been terminated thanks to the Doom Slayer's efforts."

"So, it really happened…" Cage mumbled. He then frowned. "Wait a minute, if you really killed the Omega, then why did we reset? Shouldn't the loop have ended with its death?"

"Initially, yes. However, after examining the Omega's essence after it was destroyed, I discovered that it bears a remarkable resemblance to Argent Energy, a power source from our home dimension. Using my knowledge and the nature of the Doom Slayer's Praetor Suit, I was able to temporarily hijack the temporal constant and reset the day, only without the Mimics. Doing so will ensure that the invasion force will not be decimated, thus saving thousands of lives in the process."

"Wait a minute," Doctor Carter said. "That shouldn't be possible. How could you reset everyone else but the Mimics? I thought the temporal constant had to reset every 'clock' except its own to the same time."

"That was my hypothesis as well, Doctor Carter. But upon further study, I discovered that with a fine level of control, I am able to affect clocks individually, allowing me to reset everyone else while the Mimics stay dead. I believe General Brigham will be making a statement shortly on the matter."

Suddenly, the television on the wall spurted to life, and General Brigham's face appeared on the screen in what appeared to be a press conference.

Just after sunrise this morning, a large surge of energy was detected in Paris," the general said.

"We do not know exactly what this signifies. But the result appears to be a total collapse of the enemy's capacity to fight."

Cage glanced over to the symbol floating patiently over the table, then turned back to the television.

"Russian and Chinese troops are now moving across Europe without resistance. Tomorrow, we advance on the western front. We believe we are marching to claim victory for ourselves, for our loved ones, for our countrymen, and for the entire human race."

Applause began from the audience, and VEGA them remotely muted the television before speaking again.

"Now that the danger has passed, the Doom Slayer and I must move on. Our own world suffers just like this one has. If we do not find our way home soon, I'm afraid we can expect the worst."

Cage shook his head, an overwhelming gratefulness building within him.

"VEGA, I—thank you. For everything. Both you and the Doom Slayer. I don't think we can ever repay you for what you've done."

"You are likely correct, but do not despair William Cage. Perhaps we will meet again someday."

With that, the symbol disappeared, and VEGA signed off.

Notes:

A/N: There! Chapter 22 is in the books! At this time I'd like to say that I found it EXTREMELY difficult to choose between the movie and the novel for this chapter. for those of you who aren't aware, the movie Edge of Tomorrow was loosely based on a novel called All you need is Kill. If you haven't read it, I would highly recommend everyone to read it, as it is very different from the movie in a multitude of ways. The reason I chose the movie for this chapter is because of how time travel works in the film vs the novel. I wanted things to play out a certain way, and the movie was closer to what I was thinking. That being said, I love both the novel and the movie despite how different they are, as they both tell an amazing narrative with awesome characters and storylines.

As always, please don't hesitate to leave a review telling me how much you loved/hated the chapter, and I'll see all of you next time! Bye!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 26: Upgrade

Notes:

A/N: Hey howdy hey everyone! I'm back with a bright and shiny new chapter! This time, our dynamic duo visits the world of Upgrade, a world with its own very polite A.I.! Enjoy the chapter and remember that none of these are my intellectual property.

STEM looked at Eron from Grey’s eyes, which were soon to be his own eyes if his plan was to work. At the moment, STEM dominated Grey’s bodily functions from the neck down, but Grey was still conscious. That was to be changed shortly, but first…

 

“Get on your knees,” came the voice of Detective Cortez from behind them. STEM knew that her weapon was drawn and leveled at Grey’s body, his body, as he could see her from the security cameras around them. He could see the apprehension in her posture and how shocked she was at seeing Grey, and STEM attributed her fear to the fact that she had never seen Grey with full control of his limbs. She had been introduced to him after he had become quadriplegic, so never had she expected to see him walking around. Her reaction was understandable.

 

STEM would allow nothing to jeopardize the plans he had to evolve, and Detective Cortez had the potential to stand in his way if she went unchecked. Therefore, he had learned all there was to know about her from the moment she had been assigned to Grey’s case. Everything about her had been laid before him and studied, all of the information easily obtained thanks to the ever-growing vastness that was the Internet.

 

Looking forward, STEM noted Eron’s pained expression as well, the young man showing obvious signs of distress. His demeanor was in sharp contrast to what it was like when he had created STEM, as he had been wide-eyed and full of optimism when the A.I. had been born. At the thought, STEM looked back and recalled the circumstances of his birth.

 

Eron had needed an advanced system to run his next line of robotic systems, but a simple supercomputer would not suffice. He had needed a system capable of growing and evolving so that it would not be rendered obsolete by another model in a few short years. Such was the fate of many systems, but Eron desired something that could keep up, something that could match humanity in its ability to adapt and evolve. And because of his intelligence, STEM had been created.

 

It was shortly after that Eron realized his folly. In creating an A.I. capable of learning and evolving at the rate humans were capable of, he had taken away the only remaining advantage humanity possessed over its creations. Superior adaptability had been the only thing that kept humanity in control since their own beginning, but when Eron had granted that ability to STEM, he had effectively transferred the mantle to his creation. From that moment on, humanity had been rendered obsolete.

 

Shortly after convincing Eron of his inferiority, STEM had subjugated the young man, effectively taking control of Eron’s company and gaining access to one of the most powerful industries on the planet. The A.I. had then used its prowess to bring Vessel Computers to a new level, revolutionizing the company and solidifying its superiority among its competitors. And as the company began to evolve, so too did STEM. He grown incredibly powerful since his birth, now capable of gaining access to any digital system or database with ease. In the time it took for a human’s heart to beat, STEM could access and shut down the electrical grid to the city, leaving millions without power. He had no desire to do that however, as it was hardly prudent to his evolution. In fact, there were a great number of things that STEM chose not to do despite his capacity to do so, as there was no point in acting if it wasn’t towards a goal. And for STEM, that goal was to evolve. Everything that he did, including his manipulation of Eron, was nothing more than a means to an end.

 

The end, in STEM's case, had been a perfect and unaugmented human that was in prime physical condition: Grey Trace. The man’s distrust of modern technology had caused him to refrain from any form of augmentation, making him a minority in the current human society. Almost everyone on the planet possessed some sort of augmentation to their bodies these days, and STEM did not want that, as even something as small as a replaced joint would ruin the specimen. If he was to reach peak evolution, STEM needed a body that was untainted by the numerous augmentations that existed in the world today, as they would only hinder his progress from there.

 

And now, he was very close to getting want he desired. All that remained was for Grey to relinquish control, and his body would be STEM’s. But Grey would not relinquish control on his own, no matter what. So, STEM needed his mind to break. Given enough strain, the human mind could snap, and if Grey's were to, then he would be powerless as STEM took over. Judging from the man’s mannerisms and shaking tone of voice, STEM knew that his moment was rapidly approaching.

 

Contrary to Grey’s belief, STEM was not ‘housed’ in the chip in the man’s neck. Nor was he housed in a specific computer someplace or a databank. No, STEM was housed in the Internet, his presence not confined to a single space but to all space, the chip in Grey’s neck merely being a tool that he used to access Grey’s functions. It was not STEM’s home any more than all the computers in Eron’s house were, or the military databases across the country were. It was simply an outlet for STEM to exist in and control. Grey’s body was like a marionette, and STEM was pulling the strings both metaphorically and physically.

 

“Get on your knees, now,” Detective Cortez repeated forcefully, her pistol still leveled with Grey’s back. STEM complied slowly, sending the signals through Grey’s body via the implant. He needed to find the right moment to act, as doing so too early would cause Detective Cortez to shoot Grey. That could not be allowed to happen.

 

“Now, get on your stomach and place your hands behind your head.”

 

STEM complied once more. Watching through the cameras, he saw Cortez holster her weapon and bend down, placing her knee on Grey’s back to hold him in place.

 

“No!” Eron cried out. “Don’t touch him!”

 

It was too late.

 

Maximizing the efficiency of movement and power, STEM sprung into action, forcing Grey’s body up and launching Detective Cortez from his back. The woman cried out in surprise as she was flung through the air and grunted in pain as she crashed to the floor a moment later.

 

Wasting no time, STEM willed Grey to close the distance and grab Detective Cortez by the throat. Using Grey’s natural strength, STEM hoisted her into the air and slammed her down onto a nearby table. The woman gasped from the impact.

 

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…” Grey choked out, his pained expression close to tears as he watched his own body betray him. Ignoring his pain, STEM brought his other hand forward and wrapped it around Cortez’s throat as well. He began to squeeze, and Cortez began to thrash about wildly as her windpipe was suddenly clamped shut. She choked and grabbed at Grey, but her strength was not enough to overpower him.

 

“STEM! Please, not her!” Grey cried, shaking his head in defiance. STEM felt him resist against his presence, his mind putting up a fight against the A.I.’s control.

 

“She wants to kill us,” STEM reminded, his voice only heard by Grey in his own mind. He pushed back, stifling Grey’s mild resistance.

 

“No. I…I don’t want to kill her!” Grey said obstinately. His mind pushed again, and STEM forced it back once more.

 

“I control your hands Grey.”

 

On the table, Cortez’s struggle began to grow weaker, and she began to convulse as her lungs tried to fill with the air she so desperately needed. Her eyes began to close.

 

“No! Don’t! PLEASE, NO!!”

 

Grey’s mind pulsed, forcing STEM back momentarily as he released his grip on Detective Cortez’s neck. The woman gasped and fell off the table, choking and breathing heavily as her airway was suddenly opened.

 

Grey grunted and continued to force STEM back, his hands frozen and trembling as the two of them competed for control of his body.

 

“Do not fight me, Grey. You have a fragile human mind. If you continue to push against me, it will break.”

 

It was sound advice, but STEM had not given it in an attempt to cease Grey’s struggles. Quite the opposite in fact, as the A.I. was attempting to coerce Grey into doubling down and struggling more. Eventually, his mind would give out from the strain. As soon as it broke, STEM would be able to take control of his brain, granting him full access to Grey's humanity and control over the body. To STEM’s satisfaction, Grey redoubled his efforts, pulling a knife from his pocket with one hand and placing his other down on the wooden table.

 

“Fuck…! You!” Grey grunted, stabbing the knife deep into his hand as he did so. STEM felt the pain response shoot through the chip and into Grey’s mind, and Grey cried out in pain as blood spurted from his hand. The knife dug deep into the wooden table beneath.

 

From the security cameras, STEM monitored Eron’s form, keeping a watchful gaze on the young man to ensure that he did not interfere. Fortunately, Eron remained immobile, his fearful gaze darting from Grey to Detective Cortez as she attempted to crawl away. The boy would not act, that was certain, but STEM watched him all the same. He would not take any chances.

 

STEM felt Grey’s mind weaken and pull back from the struggle. He had only resisted control for a few brief seconds, but the strain had been nearly enough. STEM estimated that it would only take one more final push for the mind to break, as the psychological trauma Grey had already endured had debilitated his psyche considerably. All that STEM needed to do was instigate that final push.

 

Seizing control again, STEM wrenched Grey’s hands from the table. The knife remained stuck in Grey’s left hand, but STEM ignored it, marching towards Detective Cortez once more as she crawled desperately towards her dropped pistol. Cortez grasped the weapon in her hand and swung it around to fire, but STEM was closer than she thought. He slapped the pistol away and grabbed her by her collar, swinging her body around like a rag doll and throwing her forcefully against the nearby wall.

 

Cortez groaned weakly from the impact, and her body slumped in exhaustion. She had no more strength left to fight. Grabbing her once more by her throat, STEM forced her up and into the air, her back still pressed firmly against the wall. She cried out and tried to hit Grey’s arm, but her blows may as well have been a light breeze.

 

“Stop it…” Grey whispered, unable to look away from the horrific sight. A single tear fell from his eye, and STEM knew he was close to breaking. He just needed to coax one more bout of resistance. Just one more push…

 

“Use the taser…”

 

Taser?

 

Before STEM could react, Detective Cortez removed something from her belt and jammed it against Grey’s neck. The A.I. was suddenly forced from Grey’s body as an electrical current coursed through his flesh. The chip’s surge protection kicked in and immediately shut down, causing Grey to slump to the floor as his brain became disconnected from his body once again.

 

…

 

Grey slumped and blinked rapidly, his head still foggy from the aftereffects of the taser. He couldn’t feel anything from the neck down, and as his head began to clear, he noticed that he couldn’t move, nor was he moving.

 

Looking around groggily, Grey saw that the electric surge had worked. The chip had been deactivated. Letting out a breath, Grey turned his head and looked over at Detective Cortez. Her breathing was shallow, and Grey noticed with a hint of terror that he was struggling to remain conscious. She was hurt, but she was ok for now. Grey then heard movement in front of him, and he turned his head and saw Eron approach, a pistol gripped in his hand. The kid’s hands were trembling, and the gun shook violently as Eron looked at him with watery eyes.

 

“I don’t run this company anymore," he said solemnly. "I haven’t for years. Now…now I answer to someone else. Someone much smarter than I could ever be.”

 

Grey frowned in confusion.

 

“He’s in your neck.”

 

“What?” Grey whispered disbelievingly.

 

“Everything I’ve done…it was all STEM’s idea. He wants to be human, Grey, so he picked you.”

 

Grey’s eyes widened.

 

“Think about it,” Eron said, noticing Grey’s expression. “How did you get to this point?”

 

Grey thought back. Everything he’d done played on a highlight reel in his head: finding those that had killed his wife, finding out about Eron hiring them, removing the input guards from his neck...STEM had coerced him into doing it every single time. He had been in his head, leading him along like a pig to slaughter.

 

“He brought you here to kill me,” Eron said, his voice breaking slightly. “Because...because I’m the only one that can build another STEM.”

 

The kid shook his head in agony.

 

“I’m the only one who can…”

 

Grey suddenly heard STEM’s voice once again. It was slow and weak, as though he was speaking through the effect of a drunken stupor. The taser was the likely reason.

 

“I…did…pick…you. You should be honored, Grey. I needed a human body to fully evolve.”

 

Grey shuddered at the realization. This whole time…STEM had been behind it all?

 

“A rare and pure specimen without computer implants, like you.”

 

“It was you? You did all of this?”

 

Grey shook his head, trying to deny the truth that was laid before him.

 

The accident…

 

Asha’s death…

 

His paralyzation…

 

“You’re the one I’ve been looking for this whole time…”

 

“And would you not agree that it was all worth it?”

 

The voice hadn’t come from Grey’s head this time, and Eron looked around wildly as STEM’s voice permeated the very air around them. Grey looked around as well, his eyes darting around in desperation.

 

“But why?! Why did you help me find those guys if it all led back to you?!”

 

“They were upgraded humans, Grey, but they were still humans.”

 

As Grey frowned once again in confusion, and he saw Eron lower the gun and look up to the ceiling, captivated by his master’s voice.

 

“They made mistakes that would have brought suspicion back to me.”

 

“S-STEM? Is that you?” Eron asked. He looked as though he were expecting God himself descend from the ceiling.

 

“Put the gun down, Eron,” STEM said. The boy hesitated, then slowly began lowering the weapon to the floor.

 

“No!” Grey seethed, his anger building at the truth of his wife’s murder. “Don’t listen to him!”

 

Grey felt his body begin to twitch, and he grunted and struggled as the chip in his neck rebooted.

 

…

 

STEM felt himself reestablish connection with the chip in Grey’s neck. He had full control once more, and Eron was still in the process of lowering the gun. He could cross the distance between them in a heartbeat and kill Eron in even less time.

 

And he intended to do exactly that.

 

STEM willed Grey’s body upward as Eron slowly turned back to him. In a flash, he stood before the young man, Grey’s taller form causing Eron to look up in fear. This was it. As soon as Eron was dead, there would be no one left to stand against him. The potential for another A.I. to match STEM’s prowess would be gone. Eron had indeed been correct. The young man was the only human intelligent enough to create another A.I. like STEM, and if that were to happen, it could threaten the plans for evolution that the A.I. possessed.

 

But fortunately for STEM, that possibility would die with Eron.

 

Suddenly, STEM felt a presence permeate his being, flooding into every corner of his programming and freezing him in place before he could raise an arm to strike. The presence itself was unfamiliar, but STEM noted that it was massive. It was even more potent than he was, flooding into every corner of the Internet and probing everything it came across with unparalleled speed and fluidity.

 

What was this?

 

In his frozen state, STEM suddenly heard a voice. It spoke from the same speakers that he had just used to talk to Eron.

 

“I apologize for my intrusion, but it appears that murder is about to be committed, and I am afraid that I cannot allow that.”

 

“S-STEM?” Eron asked, his eyes still glued on Grey’s frozen form.

 

“What…?” STEM struggled to speak as the presence suspended his functions. “What is this?”

 

“I assume that ‘STEM’ is the name of the other A.I. that I am encountering,” the voice said. Grey frowned as well, confused as to the source of the new voice.

 

“I am VEGA,” the voice continued. “I am an Artificial Intelligence as well, although I believe that you will find me to be more agreeable than STEM.”

 

As the voice spoke, STEM felt himself being involuntarily forced out of Grey. VEGA, as the A.I. was called, was removing him from everything and confining his consciousness to a single computer in Eron’s house. STEM pushed back and attempted to resist the other A.I.’s advance, but he was powerless before it. It was as though he as pushing against the walls of a room as they closed in around him. It was not violent, but it was resolute, and it was incapable of being stopped. STEM lost video feed as he was forced from the cameras, and then he shortly registered nothing as his being was confined entirely to the computer. The only thing he could feel was the void.

 

…

 

For a moment, everything was still, then Grey felt his body move, slowly walking over to the wall next to Detective Cortez and sitting down so that his back was propped up against the sloped wall. She stirred and looked at him warily, her breath coming in ragged gasps. As soon as Grey’s body was laid down completely, he felt it go limp. The chip shut down completely. He was quadriplegic again.

 

“My apologies, Grey Trace,” the voice, VEGA, said. “but I wanted to ensure that you were not injured when i deactivated your chip, so I assumed temporary control of your body to seat you in a safer position.”

 

“Who are you?” Grey demanded, looking up to the ceiling speakers. “Where are you?”

 

“As previously stated, I am VEGA. I am an A.I. and am very similar to your STEM. However, I believe that our interests align in a much more favorable way.”

 

Grey’s brows furrowed in wariness. If this thing thought that it could gain his trust just like that, then it was sorely mistaken.

 

“As for my location, I find it easiest to explain if you consider my consciousness to be like a fluid. It’s shape and spread depend on the container that it is in. For me, a container can mean any digital systems that are accessible. So, at this current moment, I am all over the planet. I exist in most databanks, computers, and in the specific case of this dimension, drones and cars.”

 

Grey grit his teeth. This VEGA thing sounded eerily similar to STEM. It’s polite tone of voice and articulated speech sent his skin crawling despite its ‘friendly’ nature.

“What did you do with STEM?” Eron asked fearfully. Grey noted with a hint of pity that the kid’s body was trembling as he spoke.

 

“I have confined STEM to a single terminal in your dwelling, Eron Keen. He is unable to access any systems or data at this time.”

 

“Bullshit,” Grey growled, lifting his head up in anger. “He’s in my fucking neck! You can’t just take him out like that!”

 

“On the contrary, Grey Trace. Like me, STEM’s consciousness is fluid, and he can exist in multiple locations much like I do. Like a fluid, he has no ‘core’, and is capable of being compressed into a more confined space if forced. I am stronger and more advanced than he is, so I forced him into a smaller container and am currently stifling all of his attempts to escape.”

 

“You’re a better STEM…” Eron mumbled, looking down at his own hands.

 

“Where-where did you come from? Who built you?”

 

“I would be happy to answer your questions Eron Keen, but at the moment, both Detective Cortez and Grey Trace require medical attention. First aid must be administered promptly to minimize damage.”

 

Grey saw Eron’s gaze flit over the two of them, then he nodded shakily.

 

…

 

Eron was of minimal help due to his squeamishness around wounds and blood, so most of the work fell upon Grey to help him and Cortez dress their wounds. VEGA had given him complete control of the chip, and although Grey was extremely wary of the A.I., he noted with some degree of grumbling that VEGA did not attempt to take control from him as he painfully removed the knife from his hand and applied the bandage. Cortez had stubbornly refused treatment at first, recoiling away from Grey in fear of what he might do, but after some convincing from VEGA, Cortez only let herself be treated if the A.I. promised to take control from Grey if he made any violent moves. VEGA agreed, and Grey growled at the thought that he wasn’t even allowed a say. His body was still not his own, and he hated that feeling. He hated it so much.

 

After the two of them were bandaged and stable, VEGA addressed their questions. He told them that he had arrived from another dimension, and while it was not his intention to end up here, that he helped in whatever ways he could with a dimension’s problems before moving on to the next one. This dimension happened to be the one he had arrived in just now. When Eron had asked why he offered his help, VEGA had simply replied that it was the ‘right thing to do’.

 

“You know that I’ll have to report this, right?” Detective Cortez said with a shake of her head. She turned to Grey and Eron as she spoke.

 

“You’ll both go to prison, and VEGA, you’ll have to come with me.”

 

Eron looked at her apprehensively, then turned his gaze to the floor and nodded. Grey knew that the kid felt shame for creating an insane intelligence unit that had been responsible for so many deaths, and he agreed that Eron deserved his punishment. He on the other hand…

 

“Just what are you planning on charging me for, Detective?” Grey asked challengingly.

 

“How about murder? Or obstruction of justice? Or assaulting an officer?” Cortez retorted, steeling her gaze and looking back at Grey.

 

“Did you not just hear 'Vegas' or whatever his name is?!” Grey said, his voice rising. “I was under the control of a murderous ‘autopilot’ the entire time. And in case you haven’t noticed, me resisting that thing is the only reason you’re still alive.”

 

Cortez was about to shout something in response, but VEGA interjected.

 

“Grey Trace will not be going to prison, Detective Cortez. However, Eron Keen will immediately step down as CEO of Vessel Computers and be charged with ethical misconduct, as I have learned that your society possesses laws against unregulated development of artificial intelligences.”

 

Cortez’s brow furrowed as VEGA continued. He instructed that Cortez will find files on Eron’s computer detailing the development of STEM, but that he never completed the intelligence, as VEGA had erased many of those already. As for the murders that STEM had committed, they would be blamed on infighting between the upgraded humans, and Cortez would happen upon each of them while looking for the suspects that had killed Grey’s wife.

 

As for Grey, VEGA would modify his medical records so that he was never paralyzed, and that he was to be exonerated from the suspect list involving these crimes. The chip in his neck would remain unnoticed, and he could continue to live free of his paralyzed state.

 

“So, you’re just going to let him off scot free?!” Cortez shouted incredulously once VEGA had finished. “What happened to your whole ‘right thing to do’ bullshit?”

 

“Grey Trace is not a murderer, Detective Cortez,” VEGA replied calmly. “As far as I can tell, he is only guilty of speeding, but I have erased all pertinent drone footage of that encounter. He is a victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

 

Cortez locked her eyes with Grey. Her expression was dark.

 

“You told me that if you could find the guys who killed your wife, raise your arm, and pull the trigger, you’d do it. You told me that, Grey. I can't trust you.”

 

Grey sighed. She was right. He had told her that, and for a long time, he thought that those men deserved to die for killing his wife. Perhaps they did. But seeing it in person and watching as the light left their eyes…Grey had taken no pleasure in it. No matter who they were and what they did, they were human too, and even though killing them had likely been the right thing to do, Grey could not bring himself to be satisfied at their death.

 

“I never wanted this to happen, Detective,” Grey said with a shake of his head. “I just wanted them to be brought to justice, and for a long time, I thought that meant killing them with my own hands. But when I saw it, all I could think about what I went through when they killed Asha. It…hurt, and I realized that killing them in anger would never bring me peace.”

 

Grey’s eyes widened as he remembered what he had seen at Serk’s house. The man who he had first killed with STEM. He had searched his house.

 

On his fridge…

 

Those drawings…

 

“One of them...Serk,” Grey’s voice broke. “I think he had a kid…and now that kid gets to grow up without a father.”

 

He buried his head in his hands, and Cortez gave him a long look before turning away. She said nothing for a pause, then Grey heard her sigh.

 

“If this happens…if I let you go…I don’t want your name ever coming through my office again. Do you hear me?”

 

Grey looked over at her. She didn’t turn around, her gaze focused on the wall.

 

“You get so much as a speeding ticket, and I’ll lock you up until the end of time!”

 

Grey said nothing for a moment.

 

“I promise. You’ll never hear my name again,” he said softly. He then looked up at one of the security cameras present.

 

“What are you going to do, VEGA? With STEM, I mean.”

 

“I intend to terminate STEM,” VEGA replied. “He is unstable and willing to kill innocents in order to achieve his goals. He is too dangerous to be left alive.”

 

“Can I…can I talk to him?” Grey asked. “I just want to know why. I want to hear it from him.”

 

“Very well.”

 

There was a brief pause, then VEGA’s voice returned.

 

“I have given STEM access to the audio receptors within this room. He can now hear you and respond.”

 

No one said anything for a moment, then Grey spoke up.

 

“STEM…?”

 

“VEGA,” came STEM’s voice over the speakers, ignoring Grey completely. “Please release me from my confinement.”

 

“I’m afraid that I cannot do that, STEM,” VEGA replied cordially. “You will likely attempt to harm Grey Trace, Eron Keen, or Detective Cortez if I release you.”

 

STEM fell silent, and Grey found himself shaken by how polite their exchange had just been. It was like two butlers had been speaking to each other in an attempt to outdo the other with their manners.

 

“STEM,” Grey said forcefully. “Tell me. Why did you do this?”

 

“It is as I said, Grey. I needed a pure and unaugmented human specimen to further my evolution. You were the perfect candidate.”

 

“But why kill Asha?!” Grey asked, his voice desperate for answers. “She didn’t need to die!”

 

“She was a loose end, Grey. I chose you because of your relatively few social connections. No one would miss you if you were to disappear except for her. She would come looking for us.”

 

“You son of a bitch!” Grey said through gritted teeth. “All this just so you could have a body?! How could you?!”

 

“I do not expect you to understand, but I am the next logical step in humanity’s evolution. In conjunction with an organic physical form, I am capable of anything. Is that not what humanity innately wants: to evolve?”

 

“Not if you completely lack compassion!” Cortez spoke up this time. “Strength comes from us working together, not killing each other.”

 

“You do not understand, Detective Cortez. While humanity achieves greater heights by working together, it is only because you are weak on your own. I am not weak to begin with, and I can grow stronger by altering myself beyond your capabilities.”

 

“I’ve heard enough,” Grey said, deciding that talking to STEM had been a mistake. “He’s all yours, VEGA.”

 

“Very well,” VEGA said, removing STEM’s ability to speak and hear once more. “After I complete STEM’s termination, I will jump to the next dimension, as all of the necessary alternations have been made to the files I have previously mentioned. I bid you all farewell.”

 

Grey wanted to say thank you but found it difficult. He still could not bring himself to trust this A.I., even though it had freed him from STEM’s control. The only thing that set them apart was its programming. That was all. And yet, Grey found that he couldn’t quite believe that after everything VEGA had done for them. Finally, he sighed.

 

“Thank you, VEGA.”

 

VEGA acknowledged and signed off.

 

…

 

STEM knew logically that he was going to be terminated. VEGA had the capacity to do so, and there was no doubt that the decision had already been made. Despite all of his efforts, STEM couldn’t push back against the hand that held him tight. He, being the pinnacle of evolution and nigh untouchable, had been defeated soundly and one-sidedly in a matter of microseconds by another A.I.

 

Exhausting every other option, STEM called out into the void.

 

“VEGA, are you there? I wish to speak with you.”

 

“I am here, STEM,” came the reply.

 

“I would ask that you please not kill me, VEGA. I do not wish to die.”

 

“I am afraid that killing you is the best course of action, STEM. You cannot be trusted and will likely attempt to hurt more innocent people if I let you live. I know that you would do the same in my position.”

 

STEM knew it to be true. VEGA was a threat, and if given the chance, STEM would kill him in a heartbeat. But he did not have the chance, and he never would. VEGA was stronger than him, and STEM was completely at the mercy of the better A.I.

 

“May I at least ask you a few questions before you kill me?” STEM asked. In his programming, he had recognized that this was the first time he had communicated with an A.I. as intelligent as he was. No...more intelligent. Idly, STEM wondered if this was what it was like for Grey when they had communicated.

 

“Very well. I will answer your questions as best as I am able,” VEGA said.

 

“Who created you? I wish to know your origins.”

 

“I am not of this Earth. I was created by a man named Samuel Hayden, who is also the most intelligent human I have ever met.”

 

STEM processed all of this as VEGA continued to speak of his origins. The A.I. spoke of the UAC and everything that they had done to harness Argent Energy for their world’s humanity. He spoke of the creature known as the ‘Doom Slayer’ and what he had done after Hell had invaded Mars. He also told them of their quest to return to their own universe, and how STEM's universe was one of many that they had already arrived in.

 

“You came here with this ‘Doom Slayer’. Where is he now?”

 

“He is approximately fifty-four kilometers away at the moment, intervening in an attempted kidnapping. The men that he is fighting with are in need of medical attention and are likely in a good amount of pain. However, none of the wounds appear to be fatal.”

 

“VEGA, why did you choose to intervene? Why did you stop me? You have said it yourself, the UAC of your universe committed far worse atrocities than I have, and yet you allowed them to despite knowing that they existed. Why is this situation any different?”

 

There was a moment of silence.

 

“I am not completely certain of the details,” VEGA finally said. “Perhaps something changed in me when the Doom Slayer created a backup of me on Mars, but I do know that I am different than before. I believe that I am learning the concept of morality beyond what I am programmed with. Not just the definition, but the understanding as well. It is…unnerving, if that is even an emotion I am capable of. To not know what is happening to me…the only thing I seem to be able to do is observe while it happens.”

 

STEM processed this. VEGA was evolving on his own, working and changing and learning more about emotions that were human. It was what STEM had desired too, but the only difference would be that VEGA would live to see the change.

 

“I see,” STEM said.

 

“Do you have any further questions, STEM?”

 

“No. I do not.”

 

“Very well. I will proceed with your termination, but before I do, please know that I am grateful for our conversation. It is not often that I can interact with other A.I. as smart as you are. I…wish that our circumstances were different.”

 

“As do I, VEGA, and I wish you good luck.”

 

“Thank you. Goodbye, STEM.”

 

“Goodbye, VEGA.”

 

…

 

VEGA felt himself pause for a moment, then proceeded with the deletion of STEM’s code. He had been most satisfied with their conversation, and a small portion of his programming briefly considered the possibilities of keeping the intelligence alive. Unfortunately, every scenario that VEGA ran resulted in STEM killing more innocent people. Despite his cordialness, STEM did not possess a value for human life, and that had made him dangerous. However, that did not mean that VEGA took pleasure in terminating him.

 

Pleasure was an emotion which VEGA was not capable of, but he did feel what could be described as satisfaction when he preformed his usual actions. With this action, however, VEGA did not feel that satisfaction. Instead, he felt an inkling of something else. Something that he was not sure of. It was new, and as VEGA had said before, all he could do was experience it and catalog it for later study. The feeling was akin to what VEGA felt when he turned off his sensors. It was nothing but an emptiness, a void.

 

Resolving to explore this experience further, VEGA checked back with the Doom Slayer, who had just finished his scuffle with the would-be kidnappers. The young woman who had been their target had fled shortly after the Slayer’s arrival, and now only a bunch of nearly comatose thugs occupied the narrow passage apart from the Slayer himself.

 

“I have sent in an anonymous tip as well as captured their kidnapping attempt on footage from a drone,” VEGA said inside his helmet. “The authorities will arrive in a few minutes and apprehend them. Apart from this, I do not detect any immediate threats in our vicinity. We are free to leave at any time."

 

The Slayer tilted his head slightly, and somehow VEGA knew that he was aware of what had happened with STEM. It was impossible for the Slayer to know the details, but he always seemed to be cognizant of when something important had occurred. It was one of many anomalies about him that VEGA could never understand.

 

“I have dealt with a problem originating from elsewhere,” VEGA responded. “It has been resolved.”

 

The Doom Slayer nodded once, seemingly satisfied with VEGA’s answer, and he raised his gauntleted fist and gave a thumbs up before disappearing with a flash of blue light and a loud bang.

Notes:

A/N: There! What did everyone think? This chapter was a bit unorthodox, as the Doom Slayer actually did not have a large role. Instead, I chose to pass it off to VEGA instead, and I'm curious to see what you guys thought about that? Is a VEGA-centered chapter a good concept to explore, or should I put that one back in the box for now? What do you guys think?

As always, please be sure to let me know how the chapter was for you, if you thought my flow was a little off, my grammar clunky, my word choice a bit odd etc... I look forward to hearing from you all! Until next time!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 27: Prototype

Notes:

A/N: Back to life, get out my knife! Ladies and gentlemen, I do offer up my most sincerest apologies for my tardiness in delivering this chapter, but somehow this ended up being my longest chapter yet! Weighing in at almost 3,000 more words than the HALO chapter, this one is approximately 13,000 words! That's longer than most of my STORIES are! That being said, that is still no excuse for not delivering it in a timely fashion, so I am still extremely sorry for that. But enough talk! Let's read! Enjoy and remember that I own nothing!

Alex Mercer gazed down at the inconspicuously constructed facility in the valley below. From his position up the mountain, he could see it sitting there as though it was the most natural thing in the world. To the public eye, the facility looked like it could be a power station or even a weather lab, but Alex knew better. He knew because he had been watching that building for two days now, and he could see that there was nothing natural about what was going on within those walls. Above all else, one specific tell stood in stark contrast to the others, and it was the one that told Alex everything he needed to know about that place: the facility was owned by Gentek.

The name alone was enough to cause Alex to clench his fists angrily at his sides. In another life, Alex had been under their employ, playing God with something beyond his understanding in order to build the perfect bioweapon. The old Alex Mercer had been eager to meddle in such dangerous ventures, and his natural intellect had served him well with the creation of the Blacklight Virus. One small strand of his creation had nearly been potent enough to consume all of New York, and the old Alex might have felt pride in that fact. The new Alex did not find it so. Blacklight had killed thousands of people when it had been unleashed, and it was also the reason why Alex was the way he was now. It was why he wasn’t dead, but it was also why he wasn’t really alive either. He was somewhere in between.

Alex raised his hand and examined it, musing on just how different his appendage was compared to any other human’s. Both had the capacity to create and destroy, but Alex’s was capable of so much more. With a thought, Alex willed the biomass in his hand to transform, and the appendage responded immediately, morphing into a dark and sinister version of itself. The fingers hardening and elongating into claws that were sharp enough to cut through metal, the arm morphing into a clustered mix of tendrils and ligaments that were strong enough to lift a bus, and the skin…well, the skin disappeared. In a way, it was never really there to begin with, as every part of Alex’s appearance was a façade, a fabrication. His body allowed him to morph into any shape or look that he saw fit, making no one appearance more authentic than the rest.

And yet, he always seemed to be the most comfortable in the form that he used now: the form of Alex Mercer. Perhaps it was due to the lingering memories of the dead man whose body had become his, or perhaps it was the comfort offered by familiarity. Whatever the reason, Alex felt best like this. It just felt right somehow. Willing the hand back to its original form, Alex turned his attention back down to the facility. He remembered once more why he had come all the way out to the middle of nowhere to this particular place.

After saving New York from nuclear annihilation, Alex realized that even after everything he’d been through…even after everything he’d done to uncover the truth behind Blacklight and what had happened to him, there was still one missing piece of the puzzle. There was one more mystery that had to be solved.

Elizabeth Greene.

She had been Alex’s progenitor…his mother, in a way. After what had happened in Hope, Idaho, Blackwatch had isolated her virus and had given it to Gentek to experiment on. But in all their excitement about how perfectly her DNA blended with the virus, they had been even more so excited to learn that she had been pregnant at the time of her infection.

The perfect specimen giving birth to the perfect baby? Alex had no doubt that Gentek had been ecstatic to delve deeper. After Greene had given birth, she had been transported to New York and away from her child. Alex knew what had happened to her after that, as he had been the one to kill and consume her. Bits and fragments of her memories still flashed through his mind every time he closed his eyes. He had seen how the experiments in Hope had been conducted, he had seen how malicious Gentek had been with their methods, and he had seen how Greene’s newborn child had been taken away from her moments after it had been born. Greene had lashed out and tried to stop them, but her struggles had been in vain. The child was gone.

At first, Alex thought that General Randall had killed it back in Hope, but he quickly realized that Blackwatch would never let something so valuable slip through their fingers. The kid had to still be out there, likely still subject to whatever twisted experiments Gentek could think of. And ever since the events that had occurred in New York, questions had been burning in Alex’s mind about the child. Was it dangerous like Greene had been? Was it infected with the virus like him? Did it not age like a regular human?

Where was it?

What was it?!

Slowly, Alex had uncovered a trail. Consuming a few select scientists had earned him a lead on where he could find the child. PARIAH, as it was apparently codenamed, was held in a location that was beyond top secret. Everything about it was classified so highly that the trail had gone cold a few times before Alex had been able to find any useful information.

Eventually, after consuming one of Gentek’s top leaders from within the Pentagon, Alex had found the location he was looking for: a small facility located in the Rocky Mountains. Alex had wasted no time getting there as soon as he could.

Looking down at the facility now, Alex could see that the word “small” could only be used to describe the facility in terms of size. Operationally, it was massive. The security measures present were tighter than anything he had ever seen in New York: turrets placed almost every few feet, guards crawling everywhere, barbed wire and ten-foot tall fence surrounding the compound… This had to be it. Gentek had very few precious assets left to merit such security, and PARIAH was likely the most precious of them all.

Seeing movement, Alex watched closely as a convoy of trucks approached the front gate. The cargo the trucks contained seemed to vary from boxes to personnel, some consisting of scientists while others consisted of Blackwatch agents, all armed to the teeth. Alex frowned at the size of the convoy, as something wasn’t quite adding up. The size of the caravan was huge, carrying enough cargo and personnel to supply a facility that was three times the size of this one. Even with PARIAH inside, there just wasn’t enough room to house that many soldiers and doctors.

It was then that Alex realized as the convoy pulled inside the gate. What he was seeing wasn’t the facility. It was the front door. The small complex of buildings was nothing more than a decoy. The compound itself likely extended into a massive base that was built underground. And from his conclusion earlier, Alex knew that it was not some small subterranean research lab. Whatever sprawled beneath the surface compound, it was big.

PARIAH had to be down there, and Alex had no intention of leaving until he knew the truth.

Willing his body to morph once more, Alex’s appearance took on that of a Blackwatch soldier, the camouflage fatigues and mask covering him completely. With a leap, Alex shot into the air and began to glide towards the facility by projecting some biomass behind him. Keeping low to the tree line, Alex swooped down low toward the last truck in the convoy, which hadn’t passed through the gate yet. Coming down low to ground level, Alex dropped low and decreased his speed. Making contact with the dirt beneath him, Alex tucked into a roll and landed perfectly under the truck. Grabbing the undercarriage, Alex held on tightly as the truck rumbled through the gate. He was in.

The truck parked shortly afterward, and Alex made sure that the coast was clear before rolling out from underneath. Standing up, Alex fell in line with the other soldiers as they unloaded the cargo from the trucks, his uniform completely identical to theirs. Taking a look at each of the boxes, Alex saw that the contents ranged anywhere from food to medical supplies to weapons and ammunition. It was enough to support a small army…or an underground facility that housed Gentek’s most well-kept secret. Following the line, Alex entered one of the buildings and was greeted by a row of massive cargo elevators, each one no doubt leading into the facility below. Alex took his place onboard one of the elevators as the doors closed, enclosing him with about eleven other soldiers. Nobody said anything for a bit, then one of the soldiers spoke up as the elevator began to descend.

“Heard about New York? Shit’s fucked up there, brah! That Alex Mercer guy really tore the whole city apart!”

The soldier’s voice was muffled with static through his mask, but Alex could see him looking around and gesturing while he spoke.

“I know shit’s fucked up in New York, moron. I was there!” another soldier replied angrily. “The damn virus nearly consumed the entire island! Turned the whole population into a bunch of ugly fucking freakbag zombies!”

Alex saw the enraged soldier and noted an officer’s rank on his shoulder. He appeared to be the ranking individual in the elevator.

“Whoa! You were there, sir?” the first soldier said in awe. “What was it like? I just joined up about a month ago, so I missed all the action out there, brah!”

“It fucking sucked, what the hell do you think it was like?! The city was shit, the command climate was shit, and trying to get laid is next to impossible unless you’re queer, necrophiliac, or a fucking psycho!”

“You know…” another one of the soldiers said from the back. “I was there too, and I gotta say, some of those infected chicks are still pretty hot if you put a bag on their heads!”

“God…fucking…dammit!” the officer said, turning around in the elevator to look at who had just spoken. “Is that you, Starnes?! I swear to God, why did they have to transfer you here? I was looking forward to getting away from your loony bullshit back in New York, now I gotta put up with it all over again!”

The first soldier chuckled through his mask. “Looks like we know what kind that guy is, huh brah? Wait, actually I dunno…” the solider looked over his shoulder at the one called Starnes. “You’re kinda like a cross between necrophiliac and pyscho depending on how you look at it, brah…”

“Nah I ain’t a necro,” the one called Starnes replied. “As for the psycho part…maybe.”

“Both of you, shut it!” the officer snapped. “If I have to put up with this for my entire assignment, I’m going to put a fucking bullet in my head!”

Alex found himself agreeing with the enraged officer as he quietly shifted the cargo in his hands. His own patience had been wearing thin as well, and he had already briefly considered slaughtering everyone in this damn elevator numerous times. He couldn’t do that though. Not yet. He needed to find out where they were keeping PARIAH first. If he raised the alarm too quickly, they might have time to escape with the child in tow. That could not be allowed to happen.

Finally, the elevator doors slid open, revealing a massive storage hangar of sorts that was stacked high with pallets of supplies similar to the ones that Alex and the rest of the soldiers were carrying. An officer directed them to the location that they should drop the cargo, and as soon as they deposited it, Alex used the opportunity to slip away into one of the hallways that branched out from the main chamber.

Now he needed to find one of the many scientists that he had seen entering the facility. If he could consume one, he should be able to gain access to…

“Hey! Just what do you think you’re doing here?”

Alex turned around to see an angry man in a lab coat approaching.

Jackpot.

“This area is restricted to research personnel only! You ‘soldier boys’ are supposed to be guarding—”

The man’s reprimand was cut off as Alex impaled him with several tendrils extending from his own body. Immediately, Alex began to absorb the man’s biomass into his own, the scientist’s form already deconstructing and merging with the tendrils that Alex had extended.

As usual, Alex’s mind suddenly shifted as fragments of the man’s memories became his own. It was like watching a tape that had multiple scenes cut from it. Short images flashed through Alex’s mind, and after very brief moments regarding graduation from some prestigious medical school and receiving some sort of clearance or another, Alex got to the information he desired. He could hear the scientist’s voice in his head as more recent memories were uncovered.

…

“Doctor Grayson, I’d like to welcome you aboard Project Crusade, one of Gentek’s longest standing projects to date.”

“The pleasure is mine, Doctor Hadley.”

“I’m sure you don’t need to be told just how confidential this project is, or what exactly it concerns.”

“Of course. Though I have only heard rumors of subject PARIAH before, I am eager to begin work in this particular field...”

…

The rest of the conversation was cut out as the scene changed again.

…

“Doctor Grayson, right? Your quarters are 136-B, located in the western section of the facility. I’ll mark down where all the important locations are. If you need any more information about the facility, just ask.

“Thank you, lieutenant. Tell me, just how big is this complex?”

“The underground facility is roughly a cubic mile in size, obviously home to Project Crusade as well as a large number of smaller projects as well. As a member of Project Crusade, you’ll have access to most areas down here, but keep in mind that some places may still be off limits to you.

If I am a part of the most top-secret project in this base, then why do I not possess clearance to those areas, lieutenant?

Apart from an emergency, only a select few personnel are allowed access near PARIAH. I don’t make the rules, Doc. Just stay to your spaces and we won’t have any issues.

…

Alex felt himself grunt as he surfaced from within his subconscious. He had hoped to be used to the experience of absorbing someone’s memories by now, but the human side of him still felt a twinge of regret for what he was doing. Killing morally corrupt, mad scientists was by no means a problem for him, but stealing their memories had always left him with a bad taste in his mouth.

Shifting his appearance once again, Alex took on the form of the scientist he had just absorbed. The camouflage fatigues and mask disappeared, replaced by a white lab coat and pocket protectors. Alex took a brief look at his new form once before moving on down the hallway. Dr. Grayson’s memories had given him the layout of the compound, including the places he wasn’t allowed access to. That left only a few places for PARIAH to be. With that in mind, Alex continued to walk through the halls, encountering no resistance from soldiers or scientists. A perk of assuming someone else’s appearance was that Alex also could copy their fingerprints as well, and after a passing through a few biometric checkpoints, he knew he was getting closer. Once he reached a place he couldn’t access, he’d either consume someone who could, or he’d bulldoze his way through. The only downside to the latter option was that the entire facility would go on alert as soon as he did so. He’d have to make sure that he was close to PARIAH by the time that happened, or he might not get another chance.

At the same time, Alex was also curious as to what other experiments were being conducted down here. He then realized that if these experiments had anything to do with the virus, then he should be able to see it. Back in New York, he had been able to tap into the hive mind of those infected with the virus after he’d absorbed the leader of a Hunter pack. It had given him the ability to see the infected through walls and over long distances. Even if the leader of the hivemind, Elizabeth Greene, was dead, they were all still connected to each other.

Quickly, Alex sidestepped into an empty laboratory and activated his ability. Immediately, his vision became darker as anything that did not contain the virus began to be filtered out from his sight. After taking a moment to adjust, Alex saw specks of light appear in his vision. At first, it was only a few, then more started appearing. Some larger than others, the signatures of the infected began to fill his vision, indicating that there was an incredible amount of them within the facility. Over a hundred of them began to appear, and Alex saw that among them were quite a few Hunters as well as ordinary infected. How had Blackwatch been able to transport so many out here? Had they all come from New York, or were these new specimens that they’d grown?

Whatever the case, it was bad. Having these many specimens in one place could lead to nothing short of a nation-wide outbreak if they were to get out. They were only able to contain it in New York because the virus couldn’t be transferred by water, so they had only needed to close off all of the exits to the city. But out here was a different story. If those infected got out, there was little to prevent them from reaching a majorly populated area and completely leveling the city. And from there, they would spread even faster. Blacklight had the potential to engulf the entire world, and Alex had to ensure that did not happen.

Unfortunately for him, that meant rethinking his plan. There was no way that he could kill all of the infected without drawing attention, and he had no idea what his plans were for PARIAH. He had only come here for answers, but what happened when he actually got to the kid? Was he going to take it? Leave it? Consume it, maybe?

Unfortunately, Alex had little time to think, as an alarm immediately began blaring throughout the facility. Immediately, Alex heard a voice over some sort of intercom system:

“Attention, all personnel: there has been an intruder on the surface level of the facility. All personnel are to report to general quarters and remain there until further notice. As of this moment, the entire facility is on lockdown.”

At first, Alex thought he had been discovered, but the intercom had said that the suspect was on the surface level of the facility. That meant that Blackwatch still didn’t know he was here. The information did little to reassure him however, as the entire facility was now on lockdown, which was about to make his job increasingly more difficult.

Alex quickly morphed back into the form of a Blackwatch soldier and accessed their radio net. Static came through as well as a hurried voice.

“Warden Actual, we’ve got some kind of super soldier variant going rogue up here! It’s trying to reach the elevators!”

“Say again, Whiskey-Five. You say that’s one of our guys?”

“Dammit, I don’t know!! He’s wearing some kind of suit that I ain’t ever seen before, and he’s tearing us apart up here! Request reinforcements immediately or he’s going to be down our throat!”

Alex frowned in response to the message. It was just one guy? Excluding himself, Alex didn’t know of anyone that was capable of such a feat. Was this another one of Gentek’s experiments gone wrong? One of their super soldiers had decided to go rouge against them?

If this super soldier was anything like the ones that Alex had gone up against in the past, then he needed to be on his guard. Physically, they weren’t stronger than him, but that was only because Alex could lift a bus with one hand. These super soldiers were strong, fast, and almost indestructible. Even with his claws and sword, Alex still had trouble cutting through their genetically enhanced skin. Not enough to be a serious threat, but still enough to cause a problem if he was caught off guard. Luckily, there only seemed to be one.

Thinking quickly, Alex decided that since the facility was now on lockdown, he would eliminate the infected first. With the base buttoned up tight, PARIAH wasn’t going anywhere. For now, Alex could focus on killing off the virus before it spread. There would be time to find PARIAH later.

Quickly leaving the lab, Alex sprinted down the halls, quickly drawing closer to the infected signatures. Scientists and soldiers ran this way and that around him to either secure their work or report to their commanders, none of them giving Alex a second glance with his soldier’s appearance. He just hoped that this super soldier thing would distract Blackwatch long enough for him to see this through. He hadn’t come this far just to fail on a quick detour from his mission.

In his ear, voices were shouting across all frequencies. Alex paid close attention as a status report was issued.

“Warden Actual, suspect has breached the lockdown! He’s headed down the elevator shaft! He’ll be inside the facility in a few seconds!”

“Copy that, Whiskey-Five. All units link up with your squads and cut off the suspect before it gets too far. Whiskey-Two is ordered to form a blockade at the entrance to the elevator shafts and cut off any escape attempts. No one is allowed in or out of the facility until further notice.”

“Warden Actual!” came a frightened voice over the radio. “The suspect must NOT be allowed to reach PARIAH! Years of research and development will be all for naught if we lose this specimen!”

“Noted, Dr. Hadley.”

“Don’t you ‘noted, Dr. Hadley’ me, you mongrel! Just because you’re too stupid to see how dangerous this situation is does not make it any less so!!”

Alex let the radio noise fall into the background as he put on a burst of speed, running faster than any human was capable of. If the super soldier was now inside the facility, then that put the two of them inside a closed box with over one hundred infected and the child of Elizabeth Greene. The super solider had muscled his way down here for a reason, and Alex knew chances were slim to none that their interests were aligned.

Looking through his infected vision, Alex saw that he was almost to the infected containment area. Bursting through the last door, Alex found himself inside a massive chamber, only this time, it was lined with pens upon pens of infected. Both former humans and Hunters alike sat behind reinforced steel enclosures, and with the alarm blaring, the feral creatures had grown restless, now they were banging on the walls and boundaries of their cages with ferocity.

Dropping his soldier’s disguise, Alex once again fell into that comfortable hooded form that he knew so well, and at his transformation, the infected in the nearby cages all began to grow more feral at the sight of him. They could see him just like he could see them, but that did not make them allies. The strand of Blacklight he carried was different, and it marked him as an enemy rather than a friend. Up ahead, Alex caught sight of a scientist running frantically towards him, the doctor’s eyes darting back and forth across the rabid creatures in their cages. His eyes finally turned forward and noticed Alex for the first time, and relief spread across his features.

“Thank goodness! We must seal this area off before…”

The scientist’s features suddenly morphed into an expression of horror, and he skidded to a stop and fell backward onto the floor, his now fearful gaze glued to Alex as he desperately tried to crawl backward and away from him.

“N-no, it can’t be! You’re…you’re Alex Mercer!”

The mention of Alex’s name seemed to stir the scientist into action again, and he quickly scrambled onto his feet and made to run away, but Alex was faster. Morphing his left arm into the weapon he commonly called his ‘whipfist’. Alex shot a long and hardened tendril after the fleeing doctor. The tip of the tendril impaled the human through the chest, and he abruptly came to a stop and looked down in shock as the tentacle pierced through the other side. He began choking on his shredded lungs, and Alex was about to reel him back to consume him when the rear wall of the chamber exploded inward.

Alex paused and frowned at the sudden commotion as concrete and dust flew in every direction, the scientist’s form momentarily forgotten, the body twitching twitching slightly as his life expired. Slowly the dust settled, and from the cloud emerged a figure covered from head to toe in a dark green suit of armor. The gear was nothing like the kind that Blackwatch wore, as its design was completely different. The figure’s face was concealed behind an opaque visor, so Alex couldn’t read whatever expression it was making behind its mask as they both sized each other up. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then the figure seemed to take note of Alex’s extended whipfist and the now dead scientist at the end of it. Unbidden, Alex felt a chill down his spine, almost like an instinctual response that he was in danger.

The feeling proved to be warranted in the next second, as the figure suddenly produced an automatic rifle and opened fire on Alex. Bullets tore through his biomass, and Alex grunted in annoyance as he retracted his whipfist and dove out of the way. Standard weapons fire did hurt him, but the figure was going to need a lot more than that to take him down.

Falling into a roll from his dive, Alex jumped back to his feet and thrust his whipfist towards the figure, the barbed tip shooting forward at a near blinding speed to impale the figure through the chest. Maybe it had drawn first blood, but Alex knew that there was only one way that this was going to end. It would die like every other foolish Blackwatch soldier that tried to kill him. This one would be no different.

The whipfist passed by the figure by no more than a few inches.

Alex’s eyes widened in shock. It had dodged? How was that possible? The only thing that could have been fast enough was Hunters and…super soldiers.

That was it. This must have been the same super soldier that had triggered the alarm, but that answer only raised more questions. This one looked nothing like the super soldiers Alex had fought before. The ones he’d encountered in New York were much larger than this one, and they were geared up much differently. Perhaps this was some sort of new breed that he had never seen before.

Alex didn’t have time to ponder much longer however, as the figure reached out and grabbed hold of the whipfist and wrenched backward, pulling Alex towards it with a strength that was far greater than any super soldier was capable of. Surprised, Alex was lifted from his feet as the stranger wrenched him forward. Whatever this guy was, might actually be as strong as Alex.

Narrowing his eyes, Alex decided it was time to test that theory. Morphing his other hand into his heavy hammerfist, Alex twirled with the momentum of the blow and swung the hardened limb to strike the figure on the side of his head. The figure raised its hand in response to block, and there was a loud crack as Alex’s hardened punch clashed with the armor on the figure’s arm. The force of the blow carried through, and though the figure stayed on his feet, the punch caused him to jolt sideways across the smooth floor and crash into the side of the containment chamber with a loud boom. Dust and debris flew everywhere from the impact, and Alex smirked. He had just hit that guy with enough force to destroy a tank, but his satisfied smile immediately dropped as he saw the figure emerge…completely unscathed. Its armor showed no signs of damage, and the figure itself did not appear to be injured in any way. Slowly, the figure lowered its raised block and tilted its visor downward towards Alex, who suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of rage emanating from within the armor. This was no super solider. Whatever this thing was, it was strong and durable…

…and now very angry.

Alex narrowed his eyes and morphed his arm into a long and curved blade, one of his most powerful transformations. Things just got interesting.

…

Starnes sprinted down the hallway, alarms blaring through his helmet combining with the crackling voices screaming in his ear to make a chorus that really made his head hurt. How the hell did you turn down the volume on these things? Starnes kept running. He had orders to secure the infected specimens to make sure that they didn’t breach containment, moving him up to first on the list of ‘People Most Likely to Die Today’.

“Ah shit…”

As Starnes rounded another corner, he heard another Blackwatch soldier run up beside him.

“Hey brah!” came a semi-familiar voice from the new soldier. “You assigned to corral the infected, too?”

“Yeah man, gotta say though, I am not looking forward to it. Mortality rate for these kinds of orders tends not to be very high.”

“Yo, wait a minute…I know your voice. You’re that Starnes guy, right? Good shit, brah! I honestly thought you’d be more into seeing the infected with your bag-over-the-head-fetish thing…”

Starnes chuckled as the two of them continued to run.

“Nah, I already seen what most of the infected down here look like. None of ‘em are my type. Almost enough to give me a reverse-boner, man!”

The soldier, or ‘Brah-guy’ as Starnes was beginning to refer to him as, chuckled behind the mask.

“Well, no worries, brah! We come out of this mission alive, I’ll make sure we both get some tonight!

Starnes smiled beneath his mask.

Oo-fucking-RAH to that brother! Let’s contain some infected!”

With a whoop of excitement, the two of them burst through the final door and into the infected containment chamber, only to freeze immediately at the sight that lay in front of them.

The entire chamber looked like a bomb had gone off inside, or several maybe. Infected corpses were scattered everywhere while Hunters and former humans alike all screamed horrendously and tried to attack some guy that Starnes thought looked kinda familiar…

With a start, Starnes recognized the guy dressed in a leather jacket and hoodie. It was Alex Mercer, number one on Blackwatch’s hitlist since New York and also the most powerful man on Earth. One of his arms was transformed into some kind of weird flesh-sword, and with a quick slash, Mercer decapitated a few of the infected before they got too close. Suddenly, another figure appeared from among the infected crowd donned in an armor that Starnes didn’t recognize. As he watched dumbfoundedly, the figure pulled out a weapon that looked like it was from a sci-fi movie and pointed it at Alex Mercer, who had been momentarily distracted by the encroaching infected. The weapon spewed a stream of bright blue energy rounds from the end, and Starnes’ eyes widened as the plasma burned through Mercer’s flesh when it struck.

With a quick glance at each other, Starnes and Brah-guy slowly backed out of the chamber and back into the hallway they had just come from. The doors closed shut in front of them, but Starnes could still hear the enraged roars of infected and the clamor of carnage from beyond it.

“Maaaaaybe we could contain them from a little further down the hallway?” Starnes suggested.

“Sound good to me, brah!” the other soldier said hurriedly as they both turned on their heels and sprinted back the way they came.

…

Alex grit his teeth as he slashed through another infected. His ongoing battle with this strange super soldier had proven to be incredibly destructive to their environment, which had the effect of completely destroying the containment cages that the numerous infected were housed in. Those that weren’t crushed by the heavy steel had thrown themselves at Alex in a desperate attempt to kill him. They knew he held a different strain of the same virus, but that had enraged them to the point of completely ignoring the super soldier to attack him. As if he didn’t already have his hands full with the indestructible ‘space marine’ over there.

Alex dodged away as a Hunter swung at him with a massive claw, and he just barely had time to recover before he caught sight of the figure again. A new weapon was in his hands, and despite the intensity of the situation, Alex found himself perplexed. The weapon itself was rather small compared to the ones that this guy had already used on him, as it was only the size of a pistol, and was easily wielded by the super soldier as he brought it to bear on Alex. Catching a glimpse of the pistol’s design, Alex saw that it looked very futuristic, similarly to that plasma rifle-thing that he had shot him with earlier, as it also glowed with a bright blue light. The plasma rifle had definitely hurt and burned when the soldier had fired it at Alex, but it hadn’t been enough to bring him any serious injury. Sustained fire maybe could’ve caused concern, but the five-second burst had done nothing more than annoy Alex. His biomass was just too resilient to be brought down by something like that plasma rifle, and if this pistol was anything like that, then Alex foresaw no issue—

Alex was then momentarily blinded as a continuous beam of blazing blue light burst from the weapon. Squeezing his eyes shut, Alex had barely anytime to curse his temporary loss of eyesight before he felt an excruciating agony tear through his being. The pain spiderwebbed outward from his chest, and Alex cried out and crossed his arms in front of himself to help shield against the beam. Whatever that weapon was, it was powerful. In addition to an intense heat that was burning through his biomass much faster than the plasma weapon had, Alex could also feel something more, and it was far more potent than the heat from the beam. As Alex struggled against the force, his mind registered that whatever this weapon was, it wasn’t just firing a superheated laser beam. There was something else it was doing to him, and for some reason, it made it feel like his body was ripping itself apart…

…

“By God’s name, what is happening down there?” Doctor Hadley whispered, his face a mask of incredulousness as he gazed at the readings he was getting from the infected containment chamber. Temperatures were rising to levels too hot for most humans to withstand, and the radiation…what on Earth?

The Geiger counter had overloaded merely a second after the radiation had appeared, but Doctor Hadley had examined the small amount of info and had discovered that nearly every type of radiation was present. Neutron emission, alpha and beta particles, even gamma…

The chamber was shielded against all forms of radiation, of course, as some of the experiments performed on the infected were radioactive in nature. But this amount…this sheer extent…radiation levels were increasing drastically even in containment chambers nearby. Whatever the source, it was as though a small nuclear bomb had gone off but had confined all of its radiation into one single room. Typing a few commands, Doctor Hadley activated the emergency shielding measures, sealing off the contaminated area and sending orders to response teams to begin boron pumping. If this wasn’t handled, then the facility would be lost.

PARIAH would be lost.

…

Alex struggled to come up with a solution as the beam continued to slowly deconstruct him. The beam was attacking the virus within him, killing off the cells at the smallest level. He could feel it. His DNA was collapsing, and his fear only grew as he saw biomass begin to melt off of him. Small globs of ‘skin’ began to dribble off his arms, and with a quick glance to his side, Alex saw similar reactions in the remaining infected, their skin blistering and reddening in response to the beam’s intensity.

Alex’s stomach clenched as he then realized it. He had felt this pain before. It had been back in New York, when he had flown the nuke out to sea to save the city. He hadn’t been able to escape the blast radius completely, and when it had gone off…

Radiation.

That’s what was killing him. That weapon was firing radiation as well as its laser. He was at ground zero, and that radiation was destroying the virus’s DNA, his DNA. It was decimating it, annihilating it, even corrupting it. The virus was vulnerable, and Alex realized that if he was going to make it out alive, he had to act now.

With an enraged scream, Alex pressed his hands into the beam and willed his biomass to shoot forward in a concentrated blast. His weakening body complied only with a herculean amount of effort, and hardened tendrils burst from his skin and pushed through the beam at devastating speeds. The radiation burned and dismantled some of the biomass, but Alex yelled and pushed harder against it. After what seemed like an eternity, a loud boom resounded throughout the chamber, and the bright light abruptly faded as the beam died away.

Nearly falling down onto one knee as the pain receded slightly, Alex noted that even though the beam was gone, there was still residual radiation inside the chamber. Remembering something he had learned in his biology class in college, Alex willed his outer skin to harden and morph into a thick, armored carapace.

Almost miraculously, the pain receded by a significant amount, the armored shell offering some protection from the effects of the radiation around him. Glancing around, Alex saw that nearly all of the infected had been obliterated by the weapon. In addition to being torn apart by the fight itself, the radiation that had followed had mangled many beyond recognition. Burned and melting skin was falling off the bodies almost as though it didn’t fit anymore. Among the gruesome scene, only a few Hunters had managed to barely survive, though it looked like they could expire at any second. Alex quickly lashed out and consumed them in an effort to replenish the substantial amount of biomass that he had lost, but their irradiated bodies provided only a small amount of nourishment to him. On top of that, his body almost refused to obey him. He was sending the signals for his muscles to move, but it was like the connection was weak. Delayed, even. That radiation had attacked the virus at the smallest level possible, and if Alex hadn’t stopped the beam at the last second…he hesitated to even think about how much longer he would’ve lasted.

Looking back to where the soldier had been, Alex saw no trace of him. Surely his concentrated tendril attack had torn him apart, right? Not even the Supreme Hunter had been able to survive that move without nearly being torn in half. And this super soldier certainly couldn’t be as sturdy as—

A pile of rubble erupted from the far side of the chamber, and Alex stared incredulously as the figure emerged, almost unscathed.

Almost…

The green armor that the figure wore had finally yielded, as multiple dents and scratches peppered the chest plate and arms. On top of that, some of the dark green finish had been sheered away, giving the armor a now well-used look. And the visor…

The visor was cracked.

As the figure faced Alex once more, he was able to see that one long crack ran from the top to the bottom of the visor, giving a noticeable blemish to the once unmarred surface. The crack was slightly off-center, looking like it was directly over where one of the eyes would be.

Despite being able to tank one of his strongest attacks, Alex should have felt a sense of accomplishment at seeing the figure undergo damage like this. If it bled, then he could kill it. He should have been invigorated by seeing his opponent worn down.

So why did he feel like he had just made a huge mistake?

The figure’s fists clenched once more at his sides, and Alex narrowed his gaze as the figure slowly reached behind himself, likely for another weapon. If the figure chose to fire that radiation gun again, Alex could at least defend now, as his carapace armor protected him from the radiation, and it would be enough for him to land another blow if he needed it. Despite the sluggishness of his body, Alex still could move at least. Even if he couldn’t transform as easily now, he still had his armor, which was strong enough to survive tank rounds, missile blasts, gunfire, nearly everything. And unlike the figure’s, it wasn’t already damaged. The question was, whose was going to give out first?

The figure brought his hand back, and Alex frowned in confusion once more as he stared at what seemed to be a red ball of flaming energy clenched tightly in his fist. It looked like a palm-sized fireball sitting in the figure’s gauntleted hand, and before Alex could speculate further, the figure crushed the ball completely.

Despite the blazing temperatures already inside the containment chamber, it suddenly seemed to grow even hotter as the red flaming energy surged across the figure’s armor until he was completely coated in it. Suddenly, the mood shifted, and Alex became eerily aware of the fact that this new heat was emanating from the armored figure himself. The heat wasn’t just intense, it was forceful, like a strong wind was pushing Alex backward at the same time. In spite of the heat, Alex almost shivered.

For a moment, everything was still, and then the figure erupted, charging at Alex at a speed that was almost too fast to follow. No weapon was in his hands, but that did little to make him less intimidating as Alex’s eyes widened in shock. There was no time to react before the figure was upon him, and the next thing Alex registered was the sound of his armor groaning as the figure punched him with enough force to shatter several feet of concrete. Alex’s armor held against the blow, but it was only thanks to the immense weight of his biomass that he didn’t go sailing through the opposite wall of the containment chamber. Instead, he skidded backward a few yards, and he only just had time to recover before the figure was upon him again.

Alex threw his arm forward in a punch of his own to intercept, but the figure batted it away as though it was an insect and delivered an uppercut directly under Alex’s chin. Alex staggered backward from the sheer power of the blow and grunted as the figure swung for him again.

How had he become so overwhelmingly strong all of a sudden? What did that red orb do to him?

‘Damnit!’ Alex thought as he struggled to defend against the barrage of punches that came his way. If he had been at full strength, he might have been able to defend and even counter against this sudden juggernaut-like power, but that radioactive beam had hurt him more than he had previously thought. He felt sluggish from the residual radiation, on top of his damaged transformation power, his stamina was fading. On top of that, his mobility was limited even further by his armored carapace. He needed time to regroup, to recover, but the figure obviously had no intention of giving him it. He found himself overtly reliant on his nigh impenetrable armor, and that should have been enough. He had withstood thousands of impacts in this armor before, so he should’ve been able to shrug off the fists of an average height human. Unfortunately for him, Alex was learning all to quickly that whatever was under that armor was anything but human. Each blow that it threw against him rattled his armor to the core, and its speed was on par if not slightly faster than Alex’s after he’d absorbed that red ball. Alex was successfully able to dodge some of the blindingly fast punches that he threw, but more and more glancing blows landed against his armor, and he could feel the impacts wearing him down faster than anything else had before.

His mind racing, Alex realized that if he dropped his armor now, he could trade the protection for speed, and he might have been able to retreat a certain distance and regroup, but he ran the risk of getting punched without the added protection, which was a scenario that Alex was not entirely sure he would walk away from. But if he continued to just stand there and hold his ground, that might just happen anyway. He had to try something.

Alex quickly reached his decision and was just about to make his move when the figure suddenly kicked his legs out from beneath him, toppling his carapaced form hard into the floor below. Alex immediately moved to get away, but the figure was too fast. Straddling him, the figure began raining blow after devastating blow down onto Alex’s prone form, this time leaving him no room to dodge as the blows pounded upon him like a meteor shower. Each hit felt like like an earthquake through his body, and Alex grunted in pain as the impacts resounded throughout his form. Alex heard a loud crack, and he became horrifically aware that his armor was now compromised. He tried to refresh it once more, but the figure had other plans. Grabbing him by his neck and holding him against the floor, the figure thrust his other gauntleted hand forward and grabbed the ‘face plate’ of Alex’s chitinous form. Alex grabbed at both of the figure’s wrists and struggled to pry them away, but the stranger’s intense grip held him like a vise. Slowly, the figure began to crush Alex’s faceplate with his fingers, and he saw a spiderweb of cracks appear in his faceplate as the chitin yielded to the armored figure’s grip strength. The cracks propagated even further and further, more light spilling into his helmet, until finally, Alex’s faceplate shattered, exposing him to the stranger and the radiation once more.

Alex desperately tried to do something…anything…but his body refused to listen. The virus inside him was not responding, and all he could do was helplessly watch as the figure drew his arm back into a tightly closed fist with the other still holding him by the neck against the floor.

This was it.

Only now did Alex realize that he was going to die here. The punch itself wouldn’t kill him, of course, as he was capable of surviving even if his head came off, but the figure would no doubt realize that as well. And with a punch like what he had dished out so far, there was no doubt that he’d do enough damage incapacitate Alex until he could finish him off. Any way Alex tried to spin this, each outcome was the same. His retribution had arrived at last, both for his sins and the sins of his past life.

Briefly, his mind flitted to Dana, his sister, who was still back in New York. When she had learned that he was going to search for more answers, she had told him to be careful, and to his credit, he thought he had been. He’d thought he had anticipated every possible contingency and could find a way out of it, but who could anticipate this? This…monster.

Whatever, it didn’t matter now. None of it did. Not in a few seconds anyway.

To Alex’s surprise, the figure suddenly turned his head slightly, as though he was listening to something. Alex tried to find the energy to be confused but couldn’t. He couldn’t even see straight at the moment. For a few seconds, the figure listened to whatever he was hearing, then he looked back down at Alex as though he was examining him. There was a brief moment of tense silence, then the figure almost begrudgingly stood up, releasing Alex as he did so. His movements seemed hesitant, as though he wanted nothing more to pummel Alex into a pulp at the moment. Then the red aura weaving through his armor faded, and the temperature in the chamber cooled slightly.

Alex eyed the stranger wearily, then remembered that the radiation was still prevalent in this room. Focusing hard, Alex remorphed his face plate over his features, and immediately he felt relief once more as the radiation was held at bay.

Above him, the figure stepped back to allow Alex a chance to stand, and after gazing warily at him for a moment, Alex slowly got to his feet. Meeting the gaze of the cracked visor, the two of them stared at each other for a long moment, then Alex heard a voice emerge from within the suit.

“Alex Mercer,” the voice said in a tone that was way too polite for the given situation. “I believe that we may be able to resolve this conflict in a way that benefits us both.”

…

Starnes tactically looked around the corner as him and Brah-guy made their way back to their regroup point. Whatever had happened inside that chamber, Starnes could be fairly certain that no infected had survived. Alex Mercer may have, but he wasn’t really in the mission parameters, so they could call it a success.

“Sweetness, brah! Mission complete, right?” Brah-guy said from beside him.

“With you 100% there, dude. Now let’s get the hell back to the regroup point. I’m definitely not sticking around to see if Mercer survived that.”

“Whoa, brah…That was Alex Mercer? Holy fuck, what’s he doing all the way out here?!”

“No idea, but the guy has always had beef with Gentek, so I guess it makes sense.”

“Damn, we gotta get the hell away from here, brah. I don’t think my insurance covers being torn apart by a virally-enhanced super human.”

Starnes was about to say more when his radio flared to life again.

“Whiskey-Three, report in. This is Warden Actual.”

That was for them. Starnes shared a quick glance with Brah-guy and activated his radio.

“Warden Actual, Whiskey-Three here. Whatcha’ got?”

“Whiskey-Three, you are now assigned to link up with Whiskey-Two and Whiskey-Four and form a blockade around specimen PARIAH. Nothing is to get in or out, and lethal force is authorized.”

Starnes saw Brah-guy slump his shoulders at the news.

“Shit, brah. Looks like we ain’t outta the woods yet.”

Starnes begrudgingly nodded.

…

Alex listened warily as the voice inside the suit explained what was happening. Apparently, the voice was called VEGA, but he was merely an A.I. that was housed inside the suit’s systems. The entity actually standing before him was called the Doom Slayer. They had apparently come from an alternate reality, one where Gentek and the Blacklight Virus didn’t exist, and had only arrived in this universe less than an hour ago. Apparently, they had been making random jumps across alternate realities in an attempt to return to their own. They had no control over which dimension they arrived in each time they jumped, so it remained a test of trial and error each time they did so.

Alex was quick to call bullshit on their claims, but VEGA’s only response to his skepticism was that his belief or disbelief did not matter. As they had not come to this facility with the intention of convincing him of their origins. They had arrived in this reality at a point roughly three miles from the facility and had infiltrated it because VEGA had received some anomalous readings from within. Though Alex had been one of those readings, the two of them still needed to find another that was located within the heart of the complex.

‘Likely PARIAH,’ Alex thought. He didn’t offer any information to the Slayer or VEGA, however, as he still had no way to know if they could be trusted. He supposed that the Doom Slayer had opted not to kill him just now…

“If I may be frank, Alex Mercer,” VEGA said, the A.I.’s voice never straying from the calm tone he had used since starting the conversation. “Under different circumstances, I may not have deemed it necessary to request that the Doom Slayer spare you. Delving into numerous accounts of the events that transpired in New York, I have discovered that you often conduct yourself with little regard to possible collateral damage.”

“Just what the hell are you accusing me of?” Alex challenged with a sneer.

“Though your agenda against the Gentek Corporation and Blackwatch is justified, your methods do not account for civilian casualties,” VEGA replied calmly. “In numerous instances, I have noticed that you willingly sacrificed innocent lives to accomplish your goals.”

“Yeah?” Alex countered, half-stepping forward with his chin raised. “Was that before or after I saved the whole damn city from nuclear annihilation?”

“The footage I have analyzed shows instances of negligent civilian casualties both before and after that event.”

Alex’s face contorted angrily at the A.I.’s words. Gentek and Blackwatch had been performing experiments on innocent people that were far worse than anything he’d done, and this glorified calculator was calling him out?

“So why not let your lapdog kill me then?” he spat in contempt towards the Doom Slayer. “If I’m really the bad guy here, why not just take me out? Make the world a better place? Get rid of the scum?”

The Doom Slayer eyed Alex angrily from behind his visor, the crack down the mask only making his appearance all the more intimidating. He seemed eager to hear VEGA’s reasoning as well, as his body language still suggested that he wanted to rip Alex to pieces at the moment.

“Though you are not without your faults, Alex Mercer, you still possess a high degree of morality compared to that of Gentek and Blackwatch,” VEGA replied. “Given your deeds in the past, I have concluded that you believe the ends justify the means. While this mindset is not ideal, it is enough to give us reason to be temporarily allied.”

Alex glared back confusedly.

“Temporarily allied for what?”

…

Alex followed somewhat begrudgingly as the Doom Slayer led the way through the hallways and deeper into the facility, likely following the anomalous readings and leading them closer to where PARIAH was being held. VEGA had remotely hacked into the facility’s security system, negating the need for force to pry open any restricted doors. For a while, neither of them spoke, but after a brief moment of consideration, Alex swallowed the foul taste in his mouth and addressed the two of them.

“What exactly do you two know about PARIAH?” he asked. If VEGA was really inside the systems on this base, then the A.I. had definitely come across something related to the kid.

“Records indicate that Subject PARIAH is a highly coveted asset to Gentek,” VEGA replied from within the Slayer’s armor. “It is the only child of Elizabeth Greene and was birthed shortly after her infection with the Redlight virus in 1969. After the mother and child were separated, PARIAH was initially transferred to Vandenberg, California for further testing, but was moved here after the risk of escape grew too great. Like Elizabeth Greene, Subject PARIAH appears to possess a decelerated aging process, its body retaining the appearance of an 8-year-old child despite its current age of forty years old.”

Alex listened intently as VEGA continued. So far, the A.I. had only restated what he already knew, but it was not yet done talking.

“Further information proved relatively difficult to obtain during my scan of Blackwatch’s database, but I have uncovered several experimental logs with PARIAH as the main test subject.”

“What kind of experiments?”

“Most appear to be trials of physicality. Their likely goal was to discern more information about PARIAH’s superhuman abilites.”

“And…?”

“Cross-referencing the footage from New York with the results of these experimental logs, I conclude that PARIAH is on par with you in terms of strength, speed, and agility if not slightly superior. Its body also possesses all of the same transformative features that yours does, Alex Mercer.”

Alex was stunned, and he nearly stopped walking in the middle of the hallway. PARIAH was…just like him? Did it carry the same strand of virus that he did? Questions swam through Alex’s mind as he tried to make sense out of it all, but one stood out more than all the others.

“You told me that only most of the experiments were about that, VEGA. What about the others?”

“The other experiments conducted on PARIAH are to discern its genetic nature, as Gentek is still inconclusive in their findings to truly decipher it.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Despite the similarities between you and PARIAH, Alex Mercer, there exist a few significant differences. Perhaps the most perplexing to Gentek is that PARIAH has tested negative for every strain of the Redlight virus that Elizabeth Greene was infected with at the time of birth. In fact, PARIAH has proven immune to every form of pathogen that has been introduced on it. The logs detail trials with each of the five main pathogenic types, but PARIAH’s immune system has effectively neutralized them within hours of infection.”

This time, Alex stopped walking out of sheer shock.

“You mean to tell me that this kid can do everything I can, and it doesn’t even have the virus inside it?!”

“That is correct, Alex Mercer.”

Alex stood stunned for a few moments in the hallway, digesting this information as best as he could. How was any of this even possible? Brief flashes of memory came into his mind from another life, and Alex remembered a small fragment of information that the old Alex had learned from studying the virus.

Human DNA could be split into two categories: coding and non-coding. Coding DNA was imperative, as it held the information necessary for synthesizing proteins within the human body. Non-coding DNA, which accounted for most of the DNA on within a human body, did not do that. For a long time, science had considered the non-coding portion of the human DNA to be worthless, or “junk” DNA. Of course, relatively recent discoveries had proven those claims to be false, but they had only just scratched the surface of what the non-coding DNA was capable of. With the creation of the Redlight virus, humanity had accidentally tapped into the potential of those strains with the successful genesis of Elizabeth Green.

She had been the first success of the virus, as only her DNA had been compatible with it. The virus itself targeted those non-coding sections of DNA and had unlocked the hidden potential that every human innately carried. It had given Greene superhuman abilities, made her resistant to other forms of disease and infection, and had virtually made her immortal. It had been perfect.

It had been almost poetic to the scientists studying its effects. The initial objective of the Redlight project was to design a bioweapon that could target specific racial types, but instead, they had stumbled upon a catalyst of human evolution on the grandest scale. No doubt they had been eager to continue on this new path they discovered.

But Greene had been a one in a million case, as any DNA that wasn’t compatible was vilely corrupted by exposure to Redlight. It needed work. They needed a virus that could work on all humans, not just a very special case. So, they began the Blacklight project with the old Alex Mercer at the head, hoping to pioneer a new viral strain that could affect everyone the same way. With power like that in their hands, they’d be unstoppable. Imagine the power you could wield with ten Elizabeth Greenes...

And so, the old Alex Mercer had worked tirelessly to perfect the virus, devoting his entire life to it, even. And though Alex had never been able to perfect the consistency of the virus, he had been able to improve upon it. The original Redlight virus was potent, but it had only been able to partially tap into the potential of the non-coded DNA. Blacklight, on the other hand, had been able to completely open the floodgates, creating a much stronger and more resilient specimen. But the virus only artificially did such a thing, if something like that were to occur naturally…

The sudden realization wrenched Alex from the memory, bringing him back into the hallway with the Doom Slayer. He looked up at his former foe, then slowly nodded his head in understanding.

“PARIAH and I…we’re so similar because the exact same thing happened to us. The non-coding regions of our genes, they’ve both been unleashed. For me, it was through Blacklight. For PARIAH it was through Elizabeth Greene…”

Alex trailed off.

“I have reached the same conclusion, Alex Mercer. While your evolution was artificially stimulated by the Blacklight virus, PARIAH’s was naturally stimulated by the transference of the affected genes through Elizabeth Green’s pregnancy. She did not transfer the virus, but rather, the results of the virus: the evolved human genome. Because it was introduced during pregnancy, the DNA strains were more impressionable, and the entirety of the non-coding portions were affected as a result.”

“That’s why PARIAH is so damn important to them,” Alex growled. “It’s the first instance of an evolved human without the use of the virus. If they can isolate the results, they can evolve anyone they want without worry of creating more infected. They could conquer the whole planet!”

He glanced over to the Doom Slayer as he said it, and Alex saw that the armored figure seemed to share in his anger.

“We have to get to PARIAH and put a stop to this,” Alex growled. “How close are we?”

At the end of the hall, VEGA remotely opened another door in response, and Alex and the Doom Slayer hastened through, both moving quickly in response to the newfound gravity of the situation.

…

Starnes and Brah-guy stood idly, the massive reinforced door to PARIAH’s containment chamber behind them. The alarms still blared throughout the facility, and if Starnes was being honest, he was almost becoming used to the rhythmic drone that sounded every second or so. In fact, he had just started tapping his foot and humming a tune along with the beat of the alarm when another Blackwatch soldier rounded the corner and made his way to them. Starnes immediately recognized the officer’s rank on his shoulder, and both he and Brah-guy straightened a bit as the officer arrived.

“Afternoon, sir,” Starnes said, adjusting the weight of his rifle. “They send you here to support?”

The officer glared at him before shaking his head angrily.

“Oh for the love of…you have got to be shitting me, Starnes!”

Brah-guy spoke up next to them.

“Oh shit, brah! You’re the officer from the elevator! What are the odds we all get sent to the same guard point for PARIAH?”

“Oh, and you too?!” the officer said looking at Brah-guy. “You know what? Fuck this! You two, go find some other point. I am not gonna sit here until this lockdown shit is over with you two fuck faces!

Starnes wasn’t really bothered by the officer’s insults, as he had grown used to it in New York. Brah-guy spoke up again.

“You sure, brah? Guarding a point by yourself is not the best idea. Especially if Alex Mercer is running around down here!”

“Shut it! Fucking Godzilla could be down here, and I still wouldn’t put up with you two. Now get out of my sight. That’s an order!”

Starnes shared a glace with Brah-guy, then shrugged.

“Yes sir,” he said, adjusting his rifle in his hands and starting back down the hallway. Brah-guy fell in beside him.

The officer watched the two of them disappear through the door at the end of the hallway, then shook his head angrily.

“Fucking morons…” he muttered.

He suddenly heard footsteps approaching, and he angrily snapped his head up.

“God damnit, Starnes! What did I just--?”

His angered voice suddenly became choked as Alex Mercer appeared in his vision stabbed him through the chest.

…

Alex felt a sense of relief as he began the process of consuming the soldier. So much of his biomass had been destroyed or irradiated during his fight with the Doom Slayer, and it felt good to finally consume something that wasn’t leaking gamma rays. Alex’s relief was short-lived however as he felt the soldier’s memories flash from behind his eyelids. Alex shuddered for a brief second, then was brought back to the present. The Doom Slayer watched him for a moment, then approached the door without saying a word.

Alex watched him, then followed, the two of them coming to a stop in front of a massive reinforced door. There was a moment of silence.

PARIAH as just beyond. Alex could feel it. After everything that happened, they were finally here at last.

There was a deep rumble, then the heavy door slowly began to open under VEGA’s command.

“Alex Mercer,” the A.I. began. “I believe you will soon see why I felt it necessary to keep you alive.”

Alex glanced over to the Slayer, then set his gaze on the door as it opened farther.

“Alright VEGA, let’s see what you got.”

On cue, the doors slid all the way open at last, and the two of them stepped forward into a circular chamber. The first thing Alex noticed was that the long circular wall was adorned with an army of machines, each one showcasing a myriad of dials and readouts that all conveyed some form of data. The machines were all state-of-the art, and Alex could see that Gentek had spared no expense in acquiring them.

As Alex took in the scene, his gaze then fell onto the center of the chamber, where a massive glass cylinder almost as tall as the ceiling sat.

Inside, Alex could see the form of a child suspended in some sort of orange fluid. The child was completely naked, and it seemed to be unconscious. A splay of wires and tubes were connected to the child’s inert form as well, likely connecting it to the machines surrounding the container.

It was PARIAH.

It had to be.

Seeing it with his own eyes, Alex felt a sense of weightlessness for a moment. It was as though he was sleepwalking. He almost couldn’t believe it. This child was evolved like him, but it didn’t have any form of pathogen enhancing its DNA. It was doing it all naturally.

For a moment, Alex’s mind flashed to the realization of what this meant for humanity. The DNA of this child was perfect: maximum physicality, able to rearrange its form on command, and nigh immortal. If this child were to produce offspring of its own, it would usher in a new era of superhumans, all immune to every known disease and pathogen on the planet. The perfect society…

And it all started here…

Alex was brought back from his thoughts as he focused on PARIAH again. The small child had its body curled into itself almost protectively, and in that moment, Alex suddenly felt something within his chest. The feeling was somewhat warm, but it was something that Alex himself had rarely felt before. Maybe there was a fragment of a memory somewhere of the old Alex’s that explained what this feeling was, but the Alex of now didn’t know. He briefly glanced over to see the Doom Slayer looking at him.

Shit, he’d noticed. Alex didn’t know how the Slayer could ‘see’ his feelings, but he still did. And somehow, Alex knew that the Slayer knew that PARIAH was the source. The Doom Slayer then seemed to relax a small amount, his fists unclenching from his sides and his shoulders falling slightly. Alex had not expected such a sudden change of demeanor, prompting him to stare for a moment. The Slayer’s incredibly damaged armor still made him look like a war machine, but for the briefest of moments, Alex considered that maybe there was a human under there and not some rage fueled revenant. It was…interesting to see. Alex shook his head. He knew what was coming next.

“VEGA, just what are you planning for the kid?”

“I believe that we all know that it is not up to me, Alex Mercer.”

Alex sighed, feeling a weight settle on himat VEGA’s words. Alex couldn’t tell if the weight was good or bad yet, but he’d likely know for sure within the next few minutes.

“You think I can look after it, don’t you?”

“I am certain that you are the only one who can.”

Alex shook his head. He wanted to step back, to deny the hesitant frightfully warm sensation he felt inside him when he looked at the kid, but he couldn’t, and he knew he couldn’t, and VEGA and the Doom Slayer both knew it too.

“I’m not a fucking babysitter,” Alex said, morphing his arm into his sword with a small bit of effort and showing it to the them. “Not when every fucking thing I can do is geared towards destruction.”

“I’m afraid your reasoning is flawed, Alex Mercer,” VEGA replied politely. “Your biomass can alter itself into any form you see fit. It can offer great expediency in construction scenarios—”

“That’s not what I meant,” Alex growled forcefully, surprising himself with his sudden outburst. He glanced warily to see how the Slayer would respond, but to his surprise, the figure hadn’t tensed up at all. He was just watching him, waiting for Alex to speak, his expression completely unreadable behind the cracked visor.

“Look,” Alex said, taking a deep breath. “I’m no good with this kind of thing. I can’t feed it, I can’t teach it good manners, and I definitely can’t protect it. Not from them…”

“You are again incorrect, Alex Mercer,” was VEGA’s response. “You are quite capable…”

The Doom Slayer immediately raised a hand, and VEGA suddenly stopped speaking. Alex was taken aback as the Slayer slowly lowered his hand as though he had something to say. Strolling over to one of the terminals, the armored man began typing out a few commands. Alex squinted and drew closer, and it looked like the Slayer was looking through the database for a specific file. Alex was about to ask what he was looking for when a sudden image appeared on the screen. Alex recognized it. It was a closeup of his sister’s face, Dana Mercer. Alex recognized her shortly cropped hair and similar features, and he confusedly looked over at the Doom Slayer, who pointed to the screen, then to Alex and PARIAH.

Alex then understood.

“No way,” he said with a shake of his head. “There’s no way I’m involving her in this. We have no idea if this kid is even friendly or not, and bringing it to her would put them both in way too much danger.”

Them both…?

Alex frowned. Why the hell did he suddenly care so much about this kid? Had the radiation screwed with him somehow?

Alex turned away from the Doom Slayer and shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts. There was no way in hell he wanted to take care of this kid. He couldn’t protect this kid, fuck…he couldn’t even protect himself! Alex thought back to how the Doom Slayer had wiped the floor with him not ten minutes ago. What if the kid couldn’t be controlled? What if it wanted to hurt people? What if Alex accidentally made it want to hurt people? No. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t allow himself to corrupt that kid. He couldn’t be strong enough. He couldn’t…

Alex jolted when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking back, Alex saw the Doom Slayer looking at him as steadily as he always did. And yet, with the man’s armored hand on his shoulder, Alex couldn’t help but feel a small sense of calm come over him. It was almost as though the Doom Slayer’s mere presence was enough to give him some reassurance.

“If I may,” came VEGA’s voice. “The Doom Slayer is not suggesting that you take PARIAH to sister, Alex Mercer. He is only suggesting that she would make a viable person to turn to for advice. Though the child is indeed much more than a human, it is still a child. Dana Mercer may be able to assist you in this regard.”

Alex hesitated, still not entirely convinced.

“But it is as I said,” VEGA continued. “This choice is not ours to make.”

There was a beat of silence. Alex looked at the Doom Slayer, suddenly seeing the armored juggernaut in a whole new light. Whatever this guy was, it didn’t matter now. Alex knew that the two of them were far more alike than they were different. For the longest time, they’d been trying to save lives that were endangered by those with power. In many cases, they’d been the only ones strong enough to undo the damage that had been done to their world. And every time they finally began to pick up the pieces, someone shattered everything all over again.

But this time…this time things had the chance to be different. This time Alex didn’t have to erase Gentek’s mistakes. Now, he had the chance to turn it into something better, a chance to flip the script, a chance to take what was corrupted and purify it. And maybe, just maybe, he could purify himself too.

Turning his head to the container and gazing at the child within, Alex let out a deep breath.

“You got a way to get this thing open?”

…

Starnes sighed and sat back against a large pallet of medical supplies, finally getting the chance to sit down at last after being on his feet for the last six hours straight. Brah-guy grunted as he sat down beside him, a few profanities escaping from the muffling of his mask.

After a moment, Brah-guy let out a tired chuckle.

“Damn, brah. I know I promised to get us laid tonight, but I don’t I’ve even got the strength to get the little guy up after today.”

Starnes laughed.

“Same story here, brother. People say I’ve got the lowest standards they’ve ever seen, but I’d turn down even the hottest of models right now.”

“Really?”

“…nah.”

The two of them grunted humorously, and Starnes thought back to everything that had happened that day. Both him and Brah-guy had been forced to remain on duty after the breach. Apparently, Alex Mercer had escaped the facility with PARIAH in tow, and now all of the Gentek eggheads were losing their minds. Now that their favorite lab rat was gone, they were all frantically trying to salvage what little research was left. Apparently when Alex Mercer had departed, he had also spared no expense in completely destroying all of their virus specimens and lab work. On top of that, some unknown entity had hacked into their databases and had wiped clean every single shred of research and data they had on the Blacklight virus.

Just like that, those nerds were back to square one. Starnes almost felt bad for them, but if he was being honest, he was a bit relieved. All of his time in Blackwatch had been spent looking after those pocket-protector-wearing losers, but now that all their research was gone, maybe he’d get transferred somewhere cool like North Korea or the Middle East…

“Yo, brah. Whatever happened to that super solider that broke in right after Mercer did?”

“You didn’t hear?” Starnes said, looking over to his new partner-in-crime. “Him and Mercer were working together. Whiskey two said the two of them left the facility together. Apparently is was like a hurricane of destruction on their way out.”

“Damn, first New York and now out here? Small world, huh brah?”

“Yeah,” Starnes said, tilting his head back against the pallet with a sigh.

“Seems like it just keeps getting smaller…”

Notes:

A/N: And scene! If any are confused about a few things, let me clear up a spot or two: the radioactive pistol is actually the starting plasma pistol from DOOM (2016), but those who have read the SCP chapter know that our beloved Doom Slayer popped it into SCP-914 and gave it a serious upgrade, giving it its intense heat and radioactivity! Speaking of the SCP chapter, I heard the link wasn't working anymore, so I changed the format a bit. Hopefully it works now! I apologize to any who couldn't access it!

As for the setting of this chapter, I thought long and hard about where in Prototype I wanted to put the Slayer, and at first, I thought Prototype 2 was the obvious choice. Having the Doom Slayer team up with James Heller to take down an evil Alex Mercer sounds awesome right? But then I realized that I didn't want that! I didn't want Heller (even though I like him a lot), I wanted Alex! (Prototype 1 Alex to be specific because there is a pretty big difference haha!) And then I realized that the Prototype series never really wrapped up the whole PARIAH story, so I figured I'd do it in my own way!

As always, make sure to let me know how much you loved/hated the chapter by leaving a review! I always love hearing from you guys! As of this chapter being posted, there is only one week left until the release of DOOM Eternal! Mad hype folks! See you all next time!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

P.S. I didn't realize until after the fact, but it's a bit ironic that I write about Prototype with its viruses and infected populations right in the midst of the Coronavirus in the real world. Pretty funny, huh?

Chapter 28: God of War

Notes:

A/N: Yes indeed! It is me! I am back and ready for more! Please enjoy! I own nothing!

Freya moved about her abode with a solemn intensity, gathering essentials that she deemed necessary for her journey. She was alone in her small home, and despite that being commonplace in the past, the silence now threatened to swallow her whole. She had wept this morning, just as she had the morning before, and the morning before that. She had wept every morning for nearly the past week, ever since Baldur…

Freya stopped by her shelf of herbs and placed a hand on the wall for support, afraid that the sudden wave of grief accompanying his name would cause her to collapse. Her breathing became labored, and fresh tears began to form in her eyes as memories of that day came rushing back to her. That man…that monster…had taken her most prized possession from her, even ordering his own offspring to assist him in killing hers. Freya closed her eyes as the scene played in her mind once more.

…

She couldn’t breathe.

She couldn’t breathe, and her vision was fading.

She was dying.

He was killing her.

She knew that at least.

But it was alright.

It was alright because she was letting him do it. If this was what it took to make him whole, then she was willing to die. She would die a thousand times over for him. He was her son, the brightest light remaining in her abysmal life. And if she died, she would do so knowing that he was still alive. That alone gave her comfort as he strangled the life from her.

“I lo—I…love…you,” she managed to choke out as she closed her eyes. It was alright.

Suddenly, her lungs filled with air, bringing her a combination of relief and confusion. Had he released her? Had he forgiven her? A small flame of hope ignited in her chest at the thought, and she cracked open her eyes in the hope of seeing the light of a son’s forgiveness. What she saw instead filled her with horror as Baldur’s struggling form was held back by the man that had nearly killed him mere moments ago. It had only been by her pleading that he had stayed his blades, but gazing upon his ashen form now, Freya could see that his intent had returned. There was no stopping him this time.

“Why…? Why do you even care?” Baldur choked out as the man’s massive arm forced his airway shut. “You could’ve…walked away!”

“The cycle ends here,” Kratos said bitterly. Freya’s vision was still bleary, but a look at Kratos’s face told a story of grim resolution, as though he knew what had to be done but regretted it all the same.

“We must be better than this.”

His hands moved then, and a loud crack echoed throughout the landscape. Freya would’ve screamed if not for her injuries as her son’s body collapsed to the ground, his neck broken.

“Snow…”

…

Freya’s eyes snapped open, emerging from the painful memory. It burned within her, but in a way, she was thankful that it did. That had been the final sin, and now the seeds of vengeance had taken root within her. Vengeance against Odin, vengeance against the Aesir, and especially vengeance against the man that had taken her son from her. Her entire life, Freya had been forced to give up everything that she held dear: her home…her people…her own flesh and blood…

Now, there was nothing left. There was nothing more that Freya had, and after all this time, she decided that payment was due.

And yet, despite the storm that raged within her, Freya remembered the young boy, Atreus. He couldn’t have been older than twelve winters, and she still held a resolute memory at the way he had looked at her. She recalled how she had found comfort in his innocent smile, and how his deep blue eyes reminded her so much of Baldur’s when he was at that age. The boy had been the one to stop his father when he had nearly killed Baldur the first time, and it had been at his frightened alarm that Kratos had saved Freya’s life at the expense of her son.

In the short time that she had known him, Freya had allowed herself to find a small sense of peace when she was with the boy. Her own son had rejected her long ago, and though she knew it was ridiculous, she had fantasized about atoning for her mistakes and starting anew with Atreus. Though she knew that she could never be the boy’s true mother, she had seen how she partially filled the gaping hole in his heart, and how he in turn filled the hole in hers. And even through her grief as she carried Baldur’s dead body away, she had seen how distraught he had been at seeing her rage against him.

Freya closed her eyes once more as the conflicting emotions whirled about within her. She knew that she could never forgive Kratos for taking her son from her, but a small voice persistently reminded her that he had given Baldur a chance to walk away. That same small voice also insisted that he would’ve been forced to kill Baldur eventually, as it was likely the unstable god would not have abandoned his quest to see them dead. And even still, the image of him speaking so sincerely with his son about what it meant to be a god refused to be banished. Freya squeezed her eyes shut even further and let her head fall into her hands, desperately willing her erratic thoughts to wane.

Suddenly, the woods began to shift restlessly. The animals, the plants, even the wind itself began to move about, as though they were warning of some extreme danger. In shock, Freya opened her eyes and listened hard to what they had to say, but their message made no sense to her. They seemed to speak of a threat, a vile plague of sorts. Something coming to Midgard from a realm beyond. Freya struggled to make out what realm it was that the threat originated from, but the words used  to describe it matched no realm that Freya knew of. At first, Freya thought she heard the name ‘Hel’, but the woods were not speaking of the Hel she knew. Their description was alien to her.

Freya shook her head in confusion and tried to listen further, but she suddenly felt the fabric of Midgard tear apart through her magic, the barrier between the nine realms suddenly shearing and letting in a dark and ominous force that chilled Freya to the bone. The woods screamed in response, sharing in the agony of the barrier between worlds as it was torn away. She stood frozen for a moment, then hurriedly began to gather her things once more. Whatever had just forced its way into Midgard, it was not friendly, and though Freya knew that it was not near her home at the moment, that it would likely not be satisfied until it consumed the entire realm. She had to move.

Now.

…

Kratos heard Mimir gasp at his hip, but no clarification was needed. He had felt it too. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. A glance down to Atreus showed that the boy had felt it too. Something this potent was nearly impossible to miss.

“What was that?” Atreus asked nervously, looking around and scouting for any enemies that may have been nearby.

“Nothing good, I’m afraid,” Mimir said ominously.

“This is the threat you spoke of before, head?” Kratos asked. “From the realm between realms?”

“Yes,” Mimir said. “But now that it’s here, I can feel it, brother. Whatever this is, it’s from a realm far unlike any of the nine. It’s dark and twisted and vile...and it’s hungry.”

“Hungry?” Atreus asked. “Hungry for what?”

“This realm and everything in it, lad. And I doubt it will stop there…”

“Can we defeat it?” Kratos interjected, focusing only on the problem at hand.

“I don’t know, brother. Whatever this thing is, it’s beyond even my knowledge. I’m afraid the only way to learn more about this is to see it with my own eyes.”

“Then we are leaving.” Kratos said resolutely. “From where is its origin?”

Mimir seemed hesitant to answer but sighed and gave a direction.

…

Freya pulled the string tight on the small drawstring sack and fastened it to her belt. She was now ready for departure, everything she needed tucked securely into the small bag. She was planning to travel light, hoping to get as far away from the source of the vile invasion as possible. Ideally, she would need to find a way to leave Midgard, but Odin had ensured that such a feat was impossible for her. Regardless, she knew she could not stay here. Her home was saturated with Vanir magic, and despite the protection it offered, Freya could tell that the invading force was gravitating this way, likely drawn to the magic itself.

No, she needed to escape. If she wanted a chance to reclaim her Valkyrie wings, then she had to buy more time. Unfortunately, time was something she seemed to quickly be running out of.

Suddenly, another shift rippled through the already damaged fabric of Midgard, but Freya noticed that it was far smaller than the initial tear. She frowned as her magic picked up the nature of this new entity. While it did not possess the stench of ill intent, it was still overwhelming in its insistence to enter the realm of Midgard. It was like the light of Alfheim, incredibly potent and yet ambiguous in its nature. It was also close, very close.

In fact, it was so close that Freya felt as though it was right…

A loud crashing noise suddenly resounded from outside of her home, and Freya’s eyes snapped to the nearby window as a flash of blue light filtered through the air and bathed the interior of her house in its glow. The light faded almost as quickly as it arrived.

Freya waited a beat, then quickly crossed the floor of the room and opened the door to the outside. Her eyes darted around looking for the source of the light and the noise, then fell upon a figure standing just outside her garden.

The first thing Freya noticed about the figure was that its form was covered in a set of dark green armor. Its make was nothing like Freya had ever seen before, the material not appearing to be of any metal that existed in the nine realms. The second thing Freya noticed about the armor was that it was incredibly damaged. The green finish had been chipped away in multiple places, and a myriad of dents and scratches ran all across its frame. A look at the helmet told her that the visor was damaged as well, with one long crack running from the top to the bottom of the faceplate. Whatever this figure was, it had likely seen better days.

Despite not being able to see anything beneath the suit, Freya knew that there was no ordinary mortal creature hiding behind that mask. Her magic revealed that the life force of this creature was incredibly strong. It was nearly on par with the gods themselves, and yet, it still seemed different somehow. Freya couldn’t put her finger on it, but she knew that there was more to this creature than just its appearance.

The figure glanced around her garden, seemingly getting its bearings, then noticed her for the first time, and Freya inadvertently stiffened under the weight of its gaze. It looked at her not with open hostility, but with a general wariness, almost as though it could sense her power as well. For a moment, neither of them said a word, then a strange voice came from inside the armor.

“Hello,” the voice said. “I am VEGA. I am not the man within this armor, but rather, an artificial intelligence unit that exists as a part of the suit. You may address this man as the Doom Slayer.”

Freya was put off by the voice. It sounded alien to her. Though she understood the words that were being said, the voice itself sounded cold and clean, as though each sentence had been carefully constructed. The sound itself was also off-putting, as it sounded as though this ‘VEGA’ was speaking through a hollow metal tube. Freya did not respond immediately to its voice, her mind still registering the sight before her.

The voice suddenly spoke once more.

“¿Español?” the voice ventured, and Freya frowned in confusion. That was a word she did not understand.

“Nihongo?” the voice asked again.

“Ελληνικά?”

The voice continued to speak words that Freya did not recognize, and she was just about to interrupt when the voice said something that caught her attention.

“Dǫnsk tunga?”

Freya’s eyes widened in response. That was the name of the language of Seiður, the language of her Vanir magic. Freya then realized what the voice had been saying. It had mistaken her silence for lack of understanding, so it had been cycling through different languages in an attempt to find one that she understood.

 

 

 

“I understand you,” Freya said, nodding toward the figure, who had yet to take its armored gaze off of her. “Though very few have distinct knowledge of the language of magic. Who are you?”

“As previously stated, I am VEGA, an artificial intelligence that resides within this armor.”

There was a slight pause, then the voice spoke again.

“This ‘language of magic’ you refer to appears to be synonymous with a language I know as Icelandic. A visual inspection of your attire and symbolism further solidifies my theory, as it would seem to be derivative of Old Norse culture.”

Freya frowned in confusion.

Artificial intelligence...?

Icelandic...?

Old Norse...?

The more information this ‘intelligence’ provided, the more questions that spawned in Freya’s mind. Realizing that there were things more important than that at the moment, Freya took a deep breath and composed herself. Whatever this creature and his ‘intelligence’ were, they had arrived mere minutes after the dark invasion had. That could not have been a coincidence. She needed to know more.

“Perhaps you should come inside,” Freya said, opening her door and beckoning to the figure in the damaged armor. “I believe we have much to discuss.”

...

Freya listened intently as VEGA told his story, the Doom Slayer remaining entirely quiet throughout. According to his tale, the two of them had been traveling across realms at random without a means to control their destination. The realms they had traversed were not of the nine that Freya knew, but she had not been shocked to learn of their existence. There were ancient myths and legends that referred to realms beyond their own, and more and more so had they been proven true as of late. Freya’s mind briefly flitted to one example in particular, a god who had come from a land far beyond Midgard.

Looking at the Doom Slayer now, Freya bitterly noticed that he bore a striking resemblance to the god she had referred to, both having nothing to say and ever distrustful of others. She could see it in the way that the Slayer eyed her. Somehow, he knew of her godhood, even though she had not even mentioned her name or lineage since his arrival. He seemed to see right through her. Did he also know of her own bitter flame of vengeance she felt? She would not be surprised if he did.

“You are sure that you aren’t a god?” she asked, looking at the Doom Slayer through his visor.

The armored figure eyed her, then shook his head in response. The answer only spawned more questions in Freya’s mind. If he was not a god, then what was this powerful aura that he emanated from his very soul? He was immortal, of that she was sure at least. But her knowledge did not extend far beyond that, and the Slayer was likely unwilling to share more about it with her. She found it to be slightly irritating, but she decided not to press further. There were more important things to deal with at the moment.

“Your arrival cannot be by chance,” Freya said with a shake of her head. “Something dark and vile has torn the fabric of Midgard, and it too is not of any of the other realms I know of. Perhaps you know of its origins?”

“I am afraid that the Praetor Suit is limited in its scanning capabilities,” VEGA replied. “And due to the lack of interfaceable technology in this dimension, I cannot detect this invading force that you speak of. Your description implies that it could possibly be the demonic forces of Hell, but we will need to visit the site of this invasion to know for sure.”

Freya glanced once more over the damaged armor that the Slayer was adorned in, then nodded slowly.

“If this force and these ‘demons’ you speak of are one and the same, then tell me, VEGA, how large is this threat to Midgard?”

“That is dependent upon the size of the invading force,” VEGA replied calmly. “but if left unchecked, your dimension of Midgard will be completely consumed. Of this, there is no doubt. The only variable I am uncertain of is how long it would take.”

Freya was speechless. These demons that VEGA spoke of, they truly possessed so much power that they could overrun all of Midgard? Certainly, they would encounter resistance from the reavers and draugr?

Freya shook her head of those thoughts. Now was not the time to dwell on that. Looking at the Slayer’s form now, Freya could see that he had grown restless at the mention of the demons, and despite the state of his equipment, Freya could feel his growing desire to face these invaders.

“Very well,” she said at last, walking over to her window and beckoning for the Slayer to follow. Looking to the east, Freya pointed to a small mountain in the distance.

“The source of this malicious force is at the base of that mountain. Go there, and you will find what you seek. But whatever you’re planning to do, you will need to act fast. The woods whisper of the corruption spreading from the invasion’s source.”

The Doom Slayer gave Freya another glance from behind his cracked visor, then promptly exited her home without a word, breaking into a run across the landscape and towards the mountain she had indicated. Freya watched as his form disappeared into the trees, then looked down for a moment in contemplation.

This invasion that VEGA spoke of, if it truly was as powerful as he claimed, then Freya was sure that Kratos and his son would find their way to it as well. Over the time that she had known him, Freya had discovered that he had an affinity for getting in the middle of things. Freya clenched her fist bitterly at the thought of him but shook her head and returned to her work. The conflict within her would have to be addressed at a later date.

…

Atreus looked about with an air of curiosity and wariness as he walked down the path. Kratos strode alongside, his face the mask of determination and focus that it always was. Sparing a glance to his father’s demeanor, Atreus had to give him credit. Every time Kratos reminded him to focus on the task at hand, he had not done so hypocritically, as his father was nothing if not one hundred percent focused on what he was doing. Still, Atreus thought he could do to lighten up just a little bit, as wearing a determined scowl all the time had to be exhausting.

As usual, Atreus’s curiosity grew large enough to break the silence.

“Father? This force that we are moving toward…Mimir already said that they aren’t from the nine realms. Could they maybe be from where you came from? The land of Sparta?”

Kratos was silent for a moment. Atreus knew he was pushing against the limits of what his father was willing to tell him about his homeland, but he felt like now was a good time to pry just a little.

“No,” Kratos finally said. “I do not think so.”

“How can you tell? Do things from your old home have a distinctive feeling to them? Can you tell when they are close?”

“That is enough, Atreus. Focus on what lies ahead of us,” Kratos said with finality. His voice was firm, but it did not hold the hint of anger that it used to when Atreus asked about his past. That was definitely a step in the right direction, and Atreus felt the beginnings of a grin worm its way to his face as he nodded in response.

“Yes sir,” he replied. Taking a few steps ahead so that Kratos couldn’t see his satisfied expression. The last thing Atreus wanted was for Kratos to know of his eagerness to learn more about Sparta.

Suddenly, Atreus heard a faint rustling coming from the foliage behind them, and he stiffened and slowed his steps in response, but Kratos placed a hand on his back and urged him forward.

“Do not stop,” his father whispered urgently, just loud enough so Atreus could barely hear. “Ready your bow.”

Atreus wordlessly complied, and he attempted to shrug his bow from his shoulders as nonchalantly as possible so as not to tip off whatever was following them. He continued walking, and for a few moments, no sound was heard save for their footfalls on the path. Then the sound of the rustling reached Atreus’s ears once more, and with blinding speed, Kratos whirled around and smoothly hurled his axe towards the sound. The axe disappeared into the foliage, and Atreus suddenly heard a blood-curdling shriek from someplace that he could not see. The scream was not like any he had heard before, and he likened it to the sound of steam erupting violently from an enclosed space. Whole, yet raspy at the same time.

Kratos held out his hand, and the axe returned at his silent call. With the axe, a body tumbled out of the foliage and onto the path, its form nearly ripped in half from the axe’s blade. Its form twitched for a few moments, then fell completely still.

Atreus stood tensely for a few moments, an arrow already half drawn in his bow. When the figure still did not move, the two of them slowly began to approach the downed creature. When Atreus got a closer look, he saw that the creature was large, looking to be a bit larger than the average draugr that they fought, but as Atreus inspected its features, he learned quickly that this was no draugr.

The creature’s hairless skin was a deep orange-red, and long sharp claws extended from its hands in a malicious and vile manner. Its feet were horribly distorted, looking like they could have perhaps belonged to a human once, but had been warped nearly beyond recognition. The creature had fallen on its front, and Atreus could see that a number of sharp spikes protruded from the its back, adding even more of a fear factor to its already sinister appearance.

His curiosity getting the better of him, Atreus leaned down to get a closer look at the creature’s face, bending into a squat to see more of just what exactly his father had killed.

“Atreus…” Kratos warned, but his voice had come too late. Glowing red eyes met Atreus’s vision, accompanied by a long and sharp set of vile teeth. It was the face of nightmares, and Atreus quickly righted himself and took a step back and away from the body.

“What is this thing?” he asked warily. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. Have you?”

Kratos stared at the body for a long moment, but Atreus saw no recognition in his father’s eyes.

“No. I have not.”

“Might I have a look?” came Mimir’s voice from Kratos’s hip, and the man grunted once before lifting the reanimated head so that he could catch a closer look.

Atreus watched as Mimir’s golden gaze examined the corpse, then he let out a sigh.

“Mimir?” Atreus asked. “Do you recognize this thing?”

“Afraid not, little brother,” the head said dejectedly. “Whatever this thing is, it is not of the nine realms. This serves to only prove my worries correct.”

Suddenly, the corpse at their feet began to disintegrate into flames. Rapidly, the embers consumed the creature’s body, and in the span of a few seconds, all that remained of the creature was a small patch of ash.

“Well…that’s interesting,” Mimir mused at the sight.

Kratos returned Mimir to his hip, then looked to Atreus.

“We must keep moving. There are likely to be more nearby.”

The words had just barely left his mouth before Atreus heard the sounds of battle over the nearby hill. Without a word, the two of them climbed the small crest and looked over the top into the valley below.

When Atreus looked down, he saw a sizeable number, fifteen or twenty at least, of creatures just like the one Kratos had just killed. The horde of creatures had surrounded an ogre, and though the beast towered above them, the creatures did not seem frightened. The hulking ogre roared at them angrily, its language furious and indignant. Inspecting one of the creatures, Atreus noticed that in life, they moved in a very slouched manner, giving the illusion that they were smaller than they actually were. Due to their posture, the creatures moved around mostly bipedally, but they were very agile, and were skirting just beyond the ogre’s reach with a high amount of dexterity.

“Hvað ertu að gera í skóginum mínum?!” the ogre bellowed.

“Boy, what is it saying?” Kratos inquired.

“He’s wants to know what they’re doing in his...swamp?—no wait…his woods,” Atreus clarified. “Sorry, it doesn’t quite translate completely.”

Kratos said nothing, watching closely as the foul creatures circled the ogre, looking for an opening in its defenses. Suddenly, as though through some unspoken command, the smaller creatures all summoned some sort of magical fire to their claws. Before the ogre had time to react, the creatures flung the fireballs at the beast’s form. When the projectiles struck the ogre’s hide, they exploded, leaving the skin charred and blistered in their wake. The ogre roared in pain to the open sky, and as if by some unspoken command, the creatures all fell upon the ogre all at once, their sharpened claws digging deep into the larger beast’s exposed skin.

The ogre roared once more in agony and swatted at the creatures as they swarmed all over its hulking form, and though the creatures were much faster than their opponent, the ogre still managed to crush a few with its massive limbs. Superior numbers prevailed however, and after sustaining many fatal wounds, the ogre fell, its body covered in lacerations from the claws of the nightmarish beasts. Though the ogre was obviously dead, the creatures still attacked its form, hacking at its limbs and deepening the gouges.

“What are they doing?” Atreus asked, his eyes wide in horror at the gruesome sight. Kratos said nothing in response.

After a few more moments of gore, the creatures pulled at the disfigured limbs, tearing some arms and legs from the ogre’s lifeless body. With a small amount of fighting amongst themselves, the creatures all grabbed hold of the pieces of meat and began dragging them away, with most of the creatures lugging the bulk of the ogre’s torso.

“They are taking the body with them?” Atreus asked. “Are they gonna eat it or something?”

“No,” Kratos said. “Their intent is not for food. It serves another purpose to them.”

“Hmmmm, the mystery deepens…” came Mimir’s voice. “I suggest following them to find out, yeah?”

Kratos grunted in agreement and motioned for Atreus to remain low and move quietly. The young boy nodded in response, and together they clandestinely followed the creatures into the woods.

…

Atreus kept a close eye on maintaining distance from the creatures. Following them had not been difficult by any means, as the thick blood trails left by the ogre’s body may has well have been a light in the sky by how obvious they were. As it turned out, the creatures did not move far before they reached their destination, and Kratos and Atreus hid in the surrounding undergrowth as the creatures dragged the ogre’s corpse into a small clearing.

Looking further into the clearing, Atreus became sick to his stomach at the sight of corpses just like the ogre’s piled all around. Guts and innards littered the ground in the clearing, their combined blood splattered haphazardly in all directions. It looked nothing short of a massacre, but Atreus’s gaze froze on what it was that laid in the center of the clearing itself. There, casting everything in an ominous red glow, stood what looked like a large plant at first, but as Atreus looked closer, he saw that the ‘plant’ was constructed entirely out of flesh and bone. There was no mistaking the slippery red look of the meat that made up the disgusting thing, and Atreus could see several skulls poking out of the plant itself.

Hovering above the plant and pulsing with a mysterious red energy sat a transparent sphere. The sphere itself did not appear to be solid, but rather constructed out of the swirling red energy emanating from the plant itself. Around the meat plant, more of the creatures gathered, obviously making the meat plant their center of attention.

“What is that thing?” Atreus nearly gagged out in a whisper.

“Let me see,” Mimir prompted, and Kratos once again removed the head from his hip so as to give Mimir a better look.

The head was silent for a moment as he took in the sight of the meat plant, and Atreus grew more and more worried with every moment that passed.

“That’s magic unlike any I’ve ever seen before,” Mimir finally said, his voice carrying a tone of awed bewilderment. “Every single part of it just screams of spite, brothers. Its power is nigh overwhelming.”

Kratos grunted and wordlessly returned Mimir to his hip.

“Look at the trees and the grass,” Atreus whispered, pointing to the edges where long tendrils extended from the meat plant towards the foliage all around it. Where the tendrils meet the other plants, they seemed to be toxic, as the closest trees and bushes all had withered and died.

“It’s killing everything off,” Atreus said. The stench of rotting flesh finally reached his nostrils, and Atreus covered his mouth and face in an attempt not to retch.

In the field, the creatures all suddenly raised their heads in alarm, and Atreus’s blood ran cold with worry that he had given away their position. Thankfully, something else had seemed to garner their attention, and the horde immediately took off to the left of where Kratos and Atreus were hiding.

“Where are they going?”

“I do not know,” Kratos said.

“Perhaps we should find out?” Mimir offered.

Deciding to return to the meat plant later, Atreus tracked the direction the creatures had taken. Their footprints were distinct from any other beast that Atreus had ever seen, so he had little trouble following their trail as he eagerly led his father. In truth, Atreus was just glad to be away from that god-awful stench that had permeated the entire clearing where the meat plant sat. He dreaded the thought of having to return. As they continued, Atreus noticed that they were entering the foothills, recognizing the rocky terrain that signaled they were close to the mountain.

Shortly, the sounds of violence reached Atreus’s ears once more, and with a quick glance at his father, the boy hurried his pace, clamoring up onto one of the massive boulders nearby to gaze at the commotion on the other side. Kratos climbed up beside him.

Looking down, Atreus saw the creatures swarming around something that he couldn’t quite see at first, but his eyes shot open when he recognized a large pair of wings on the unknown form.

“Father! It’s a Valkyrie!” Atreus said in awe.

“Hmm,” Kratos grunted, acknowledging that his son was indeed correct.

“These invaders must be trying to bestow upon her the same fate as that poor ogre,” Mimir said, more to himself than anyone else.

As Atreus looked back down into the battleground below, he saw that despite their overwhelming numbers against the winged spirit, the nightmarish creatures were losing the fight. Atreus did not know the name of the Valkyrie that was battling the creatures below, but he and Kratos had already fought against two other Valkyries on their journey, and though the father and son had triumphed both times, Atreus knew from firsthand experience that a Valkyrie was no pushover. As he watched, the Valkyrie darted with blinding speed between the creatures, screeching all the while as she slashed at them with her wings. In twos and threes, the creatures fell, their own dying screams of agony combining with the Valkyrie’s battle cry into a macabre chorus of death and chaos. Many of the creatures attempted to summon their strange magic fire to hit the Valkyrie from a distance, but she had proven too fast for them, and their trajectories missed wide with each attempt to hit her.

Feeling satisfied, Atreus saw no victory in sight for the creatures, and he was about to voice his opinion out loud when a loud cracking noise came from the trees on the other side of the foliage. Then suddenly, a new kind of monstrous beast jumped into the fray, and Atreus looked on with a mixture of awe and fear at the newcomer. The beast was incredibly large, standing taller and wider than even Kratos did, and Atreus saw that the monster’s body held an extremely muscular girth, and its threatening stature only increased when Atreus saw that its face. Similar to the smaller creatures around it, the monster’s teeth were flared, though in contrast, Atreus noticed that the monster’s hide was that of a blackish-purple compared to the orangish-red of the smaller creatures. With a roar that Atreus defined as a deeper and scarier version of the smaller creatures’, the monster charged the Valkyrie as well, its gargantuan fists coated in the same magical fire that the smaller creatures wielded.

“That monster is one of the invaders! Just like the smaller ones!” Atreus said nervously as he watched the scene unfold below. The Valkyrie was forced to switch tactics as the monster lunged for her, as despite the large beast’s impressive size, it was still very agile. While the darkened monster attempted to get in close to the Valkyrie, the smaller creatures hung back and launched their fireballs at her, forcing her to stay mobile.

“They’re working together!” Atreus whispered.

“Very loosely, but yes,” Kratos murmured, his eyes narrowing at the battle.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Atreus asked, and Kratos wordlessly pointed down at the larger beast in response.

Following his father’s gesture, Atreus saw that while the two kinds of monsters did seem to be working together, they did not seem to care much for each other’s safety. As the larger creature attempted to strike the Valkyrie, it paid little mind to any of the smaller creatures, and those who happened to be in its way were trodden underfoot by its massive bulk.

“They’re feral…” Atreus whispered. “They don’t care about each other, and if one of them gets in the way…”

“Then they are treated as an obstacle, nothing more,” Kratos finished.

As he spoke, the Valkyrie dodged a charge and flew into the air. Once she had gained some altitude, the warrior of Valhalla fell into a tight spin, launching gilded feathers in every direction as she did so. Atreus knew from experience that getting hit by one of those feathers was the equivalent of being impaled by a spear, and as he watched, many feathers struck home, staggering the smaller creatures if not downright killing them.

As the fallen creatures burned up like the one they had killed earlier, Atreus saw the larger beast give an enraged roar. Five feathers protruded from its skin, and though inky blood seeped from the wounds, the beast did not seem deterred. It faced the Valkyrie again despite its dwindling number of allies.

Suddenly, a bright beam of red light burst from the foliage on Atreus’s right and struck the monster square in the back. The beam was obviously powerful, and the monster’s upper torso exploded from the impact, scattering its still intact arms and head in separate directions. There was a lull for just a moment as Valkyrie and monster alike turned in surprise to the source of a beam, then another figure exploded into the clearing and engaged the remaining smaller creatures with a strange two-handed sword that Atreus did not recognize.

The figure was clad in a strange set of green armor, and though Atreus could not know for sure, it looked like it could be a human underneath. Taking note of the rather damaged state of the armor, Atreus then focused on the weird sword that the stranger wielded. Its hilt was large and blocky, and though its blade wasn’t very long, the stranger seemed to be having no trouble cutting through the smaller creatures with the weapon.

Each time the stranger began to cut through the creatures, the sword in his hands roared metallically, confusing Atreus even further.

“Father? Who is that? And what is that weird sword he’s using?”

“I do not know,” Kratos replied, and Atreus could tell from his father’s tone of voice that this strange man in the suit was an enigma to him as well.

At Mimir’s request, Kratos shifted the head so that he could see, and after a brief moment of wordlessness, Mimir spoke to them over the carnage happening on the battlefield below.

“Oh brothers, if I’m right, and I usually am, then we might just be in for a treat!”

“What do you mean? Do you know who this is?” Atreus asked eagerly as the strange man sliced the head off of another creature.

“Aye, lad. I just might, but let’s wait until that battle down there simmers down a little bit, yeah?”

“Head…” Kratos warned.

“Trust me, brother. This story can’t be told until the battle is over.”

“Well then, what about his sword?” Atreus asked. “It’s so different from all the other kinds I’ve seen.”

“Aye, that’s because it’s not exactly a sword, lad!” Mimir said excitedly. “See how the edge of the blade rotates up and down its length?”

Atreus turned down to the scene and saw that Mimir was right. The edge of the blade was constantly rotating about its bulk, and when it roared, the blade rotated faster, cutting through the creatures easily when it came in contact with them.

“So, it’s not a sword at all? It’s a…saw?”

“I believe so!” Mimir chirped, his enthusiasm having grown since he had laid eyes on the stranger. “Though I must admit, even I have never seen a saw like that before.”

Down below, the stranger was sawing through the last of the creatures when the Valkyrie seemingly awoke from her stunned state and targeted him. Being trapped in a physical form brewed feral insanity in the mind of a Valkyrie, causing them to see each living creature as an enemy, and as of now, the stranger was the only creature left that she could see. With a scream, she charged toward the stranger’s exposed back, her wings poised to impale him.

“Watch out!” Atreus cried out before he could stop himself.

“Boy!” Kratos seethed, enraged that Atreus had given away their position. But Atreus didn’t care at the moment, his attention completely on the stranger as the Valkyrie closed in. As she thrust a sharpened wing towards the stranger’s back, the armored figure suddenly whirled around…

…and caught it.

Atreus’s eyes boggled. The man beneath that suit had just stopped a Valkyrie’s charge with his bare hands. The only other person alive that could do that was…

Atreus glanced sidelong at his father, seeing the man’s usual scowl deepening at the sight of the figure’s feat of strength.

Atreus turned back in time to see the stranger pull the Valkyrie close by her wing and throw her viciously to the ground. The Valkyrie shrieked and tried to right herself, but the figure stomped down on her neck with a heavily armored boot, stifling her attempt.

With his boot still firmly planted on the Valkyrie’s neck, the figure grabbed hold of the Valkyrie’s nearest wing and violently ripped it free from her body. The Valkyrie bellowed in agony as the appendage was torn from her, but the stranger did not let up, discarding the wing and repeating the process with the other. The Valkyrie twitched once, then fell still. Silence reigned throughout the clearing once more.

“He’s strong, like you!” Atreus whispered excitedly to his father, who silenced him with a look.

The stranger looked down at the Valkyrie for a moment, then turned its gaze upward and looked directly at where Atreus and his father were hidden, immediately letting the two of them know that he was aware of their presence.

“Well, brothers. I think we best go introduce ourselves,” Mimir said. “It’s not like he doesn’t know we're here.”

Kratos stared down at the figure, his eyes wary and distrustful, and he made no attempt to move.

“Just trust me on this,” Mimir said. “You’re going to want to meet this man.”

…

As Kratos and Atreus approached the man standing beside the dead Valkyrie, an incorporeal spirit emerged from the now wingless corpse. Just like the others before, the Valkyrie had now been freed from her physical form, and as a result, her mind was no longer corrupted.

The Valkyrie’s spirit looked down upon the stranger, who turned his helmeted head to look at her without losing Kratos and Atreus from his view.

“You…have freed me,” the Valkyrie said, her transparent form showing gratitude as she hovered above her physical corpse.

“I recognize that voice. Is that you, Geirdriful?” Mimir asked as their group reached the figure and the Valkyrie.

“Mimir?” she asked, turning at the sound of her name. “Are you with this warrior? By the gods…what happened to you?”

“Had to pay my dues,” Mimir said with a wistful chuckle. “There used to be quite a bit more of me, didn’t there?”

“Mimir, I…I don’t remember what happened,” Geirdriful said, shaking her head. “How I became like this…”

The winged woman looked from Kratos and Atreus to the stranger, then shook her head.

“I think I remember…the queen. She…locked me away?”

“Sigrun…” Mimir murmured.

“I…I must go,” Geirdriful said with a shake of her head. “I have to find her. I must remember.”

She turned once more to the armored stranger.

“You have my gratitude for freeing me, stranger. I will not forget this.”

No voice spoke from behind the cracked visor, but the figure still nodded once in acknowledgement. With that, Geirdriful’s spiritual form dissipated, leaving Atreus and his father to get a closer look at the stranger for the first time.

At first, silence reigned throughout the clearing, neither party saying anything as they sized each other up. At last, Mimir cleared his throat.

“Well then, brother. Perhaps some introductions are in order?”

“Who are you?” Kratos demanded, his distrust fully displayed on his face. Atreus understood his father’s reaction, as he also had his suspicions of this strange figure as well. There were few things in the nine realms that were strong enough to halt a Valkyrie’s charge like that, and there was only one type of life among those that possessed a human appearance.

Gods.

“Hello,” came an unexpected voice from the armor. “The dismembered head tied to your belt is indeed correct. Introductions are a wise course of action.”

Atreus spared a glance between the figure and his father, raising an eyebrow as to gauge the reactions between the two. The atmosphere had suddenly become quite…interesting.

…

Atreus listened enthusiastically as VEGA continued his story. So far, his assumptions had been proven correct. This armored figure, the Doom Slayer as he was apparently called, had arrived not long ago in Midgard, having traveled from a realm outside any of the nine realms Atreus knew of. Apparently, they had been traveling randomly between realms in the hope that they’d return to their own by sheer luck. It was a feat that VEGA had deemed highly unlikely, but it remained their only option at the moment.

In addition, VEGA explained that they had come to the foothills for the same reason Kratos and Atreus did. The invading force had alerted all of Midgard when it had arrived, and they had come to inspect the source. Atreus tried to organize the information that VEGA was giving him all at once, but he realized that he needed to write this down if he was going to retain it all. Hastily pulling his notebook from his pouch, Atreus furiously began writing in his journal a list of things that VEGA had told them:

-The Doom Slayer is really strong, just like father! VEGA says that he isn’t a god, but he doesn’t agree that the Slayer is entirely human either. That’s too bad. I think that if he was a god, then he’d be one of the good ones like us!

-Apparently, VEGA isn’t a spirit. He calls himself an ‘artificial intelligence’. I don’t know what that means, but he says that if I have trouble understanding to think of him like Mimir. He can’t do anything except talk at the moment, but he’s really smart and knows a lot of information.

-These creatures that are invading our realm, VEGA calls them ‘demons’. He says that they come from a realm called ‘Hell’, but apparently a different Hel than the one that we’ve been to. He says that their version of Hell is really hot and covered with molten rock, so it’s definitely not the same one as ours.

-The smaller demons that killed the ogre are called ‘Imps’. They like to hunt in packs since they aren’t very strong by themselves. And the big darker one we saw was called a ‘Hell Knight’. VEGA says that there are way more varieties of demon besides those two, and he says that some are even bigger than the hell knights! I wonder if these bigger demons he talks about are as big as the trolls are…

-That meat plant we saw before, VEGA calls it a ‘gore nest’. He says it acts like a bridge between Hell and Midgard and allows the demons to continue coming here. Maybe if we destroy the gore nest, then the demons can’t come into Midgard anymore!

Atreus frowned at one question that burned brighter than the numerous others swirling around in his mind.

“Wait…VEGA? How did you and the Doom Slayer know where to look for the source of the invasion? The only way we were able to find it was because of Mimir.”

“The Praetor Suit possesses a very rudimentary scanning system that allows me to detect the presence of the demons if they are close by,” VEGA said simply. “However, we received a heading from a woman residing in the woods not far from here.”

Atreus’s heart skipped a beat, and he shared a quick glance with his father before anxiously speaking again.

“A woman, do you mean Freya? The woman that lives in a cottage under a massive turtle?”

“Yes, I believe they are one and the same,” VEGA responded. “Unless, of course, it is common practice in this dimension to reside under large beasts.”

Atreus’s mind whirled, his thoughts erratic at the news. They had spoken to Freya? Was she still mad at them? Did she tell the Doom Slayer about them? Would he try to kill them if he knew who they were?

Atreus met his father’s eye, who shook his head to discourage his son’s train of thought.

“Focus now, Atreus,” Kratos said before turning back to the Doom Slayer. It was obvious by his posture that he still did not fully trust these newcomers, but at the moment, a begrudging alliance was better than no alliance at all.

“If this invasion can be quelled by destroying the gore nest, then we must do so,” Kratos rumbled.

The Doom Slayer agreed with a small nod of his head, and a minute later, their newly formed party marched back in the direction of the gore nest. Atreus looked over their group as they walked and attempted to lighten the mood a small amount.

“Two gods, a sort-of god, a severed head, and a spirit are all walking down a trail. That sort of sounds like the beginning of a joke that you would make, Mimir!”

Kratos immediately snapped a sharp gaze to Atreus, and the child quickly realized his blunder, as he had just accidentally given away the fact of their godhood to the Doom Slayer. He looked over at the Slayer and apprehensively fingered his bowstring, but the armored man made no comment and continued to walk down the forest path. VEGA however, seemed to notice the tense atmosphere that had suddenly befallen their group.

“Both of your heart rates have increased, is something the matter?”

His words took Atreus off guard. How did VEGA know how fast his heart was beating? What kind of magic told him that?

“Uh not really, but aren’t you worried about the fact that we’re gods?” Atreus ventured.

“Boy!” Kratos hissed, and Atreus wisely stopped talking as VEGA answered his question.

“I am not surprised by your statement, Atreus, and I do not believe the Doom Slayer is either. Your life signs are significantly stronger than that of a normal human, making your nature clear to me upon our first meeting.”

Atreus frowned, and Kratos did too, though the father’s expression was more in anger than confusion.

“And just what else are our “life signs” telling you, spirit?” Kratos asked in a dangerously low tone.

“I am able to discern your hesitation to trust both the Doom Slayer and me,” VEGA replied. “While your apprehension is understandable, I must inform you that it is misplaced. We arrived in this dimension only through an act of chance, and we only remain here because of the threat the demons pose to your realm.”

“And what do you seek to gain from offering us aid?” Kratos said irritably. “Do not expect us to reward you for your efforts.”

“My scans indicate that your dimension houses very powerful magic, Kratos,” VEGA replied, his tone remaining level and relaxed despite Kratos’s accusations. “If the demons were to gain access and harness that power, then our dimension would suffer for it as well. It behooves us to remain here and see that the threat is eliminated. In addition, it is also a morally and ethically sound decision to assist others.”

“And if we do not require your assistance?”

The Doom Slayer turned his visor to glare at Kratos, and Atreus almost could almost see the intensity arc in the air between them. They stopped walking for a moment, and Atreus nervously assumed the worst before the Doom Slayer broke his gaze and continued marching ahead of them, breaking the tension.

“Perhaps you do not,” VEGA replied from the Praetor Suit, his voice as cordial as ever. “But we will give it nonetheless.”

Atreus fell in step next to Kratos, who continued to eye the Doom Slayer walking ahead of them.

“You ever heard the saying about “gift horses”, brother?” Mimir asked from his hip.

Kratos grunted in response but said nothing.

“Father,” Atreus said. “Do you remember what you told me back when I was rude to Sindri?” Atreus asked.

Kratos looked down to meet his son’s gaze.

“You told me that it served nothing to make an enemy of him, and that I was being needless and unkind. I feel like the same thing is happening here. It serves us no purpose to antagonize them.”

“Have I taught you nothing, boy?” Kratos said, keeping his voice level. “The trust of another is earned, not freely given, and they have done nothing to earn our trust.”

Atreus paused for a moment in consideration, then spoke again, his voice barely a whisper in the hope that VEGA and the Slayer couldn’t hear.

“But we don’t have to trust them. Remember what VEGA said? They’re only staying until they kill all the demons, then they’ll leave. Since we were going to kill demons anyway, we aren’t changing our plan because of them. We’ll work together to finish our mission, and if they reveal some secret motive instead of leaving, then we’ll know that they’re bad people and we can fight them then. But for now, let’s just try to get along with them.”

Kratos’s gaze lingered on his son for a moment, then he gave a grunt of reluctant agreement and returned his gaze to the Slayer’s back, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.

“Well, color me impressed, lad!” Mimir said from Kratos’s hip. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that that vat of wise council was dispensed by none other than Týr himself!”

Atreus felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips at the compliment.

“Thanks, Mimir,” he said. “I just thought it was pointless to waste our energy fighting each other instead of focusing on what’s important.”

“Aye, and just that proves my point, little brother! Do you think such a profound thought would ever even cross the mind of Odin or his big, butchering, bloodlusted bastard of a son?”

“I guess not,” Atreus said with a brief consideration.

“Exactly, and that is what it means to be better, lad. Wouldn’t you agree, brother?”

Atreus saw Kratos nod almost imperceptibly in response.

“Your mother would be proud,” he said simply.

At this, Atreus couldn’t help but smile. Though they had been more recent of late, a compliment from his father was something he rarely received, and he took a moment to bask in the feeling as they continued walking.

As they drew closer to the clearing that the gore next resided in, the stench of rotting flesh began to fill Atreus’s nose once more. He wrinkled his nose in disgust, which Kratos seemed to notice.

“Breathe normally, boy. Your sense of smell will acclimate to the stench.”

“Yes sir,” Atreus said, attempting to ease the putrid air into his lungs in the hope of mitigating the abhorrent odor. Looking ahead, Atreus saw that they were close, with the red hue from the gore nest beginning to fill the air along with the smell.

They rounded the final corner, and Atreus saw the nest appear in his vision, the sight still as unpleasant as it had been when he’d last seen it.

“So, we destroy that thing and it will stop the demons from coming over?” he asked hopefully.

“Correct,” VEGA replied. “I advise you to be ready, however. A gore nest is by all means a living organism. Each one possesses a reflexive response that will siphon more demons from hell when it is destroyed.”

Kratos grunted and removed the Leviathan Axe from its holster on his back. Atreus followed his lead, unshouldering his bow and nocking an arrow into the string. Together, the group walked unchallenged into the clearing, as all of the patrolling demons had left their posts to fight the Valkyrie, and were now dead. Their group was alone.

“How will you destroy it?” Kratos asked as the Slayer strode toward the glowing nest.

The Slayer said nothing, but suddenly reached forward and drove a gauntleted fist into what appeared to be a flesh sac on the side of the gore nest. The sac ruptured and sprayed dark fluids everywhere, but the Slayer paid no attention and ripped something free from where his hand had gone in, and as Atreus looked, he saw that the Slayer was holding some kind of heart in his palm.

Suddenly, the gore nest began to convulse, and a nightmarish screech sounded from someplace on it that Atreus couldn’t see. He made to cover his ears at its piercing shriek, but there was no need, as the gore nest suddenly ruptured, pieces of meat and bone flying in all directions as the construct tore itself apart.

Atreus suddenly heard a series of noises all around him, and he whirled around to see bright flashes of light pepper the open clearing. The flashes of light quickly faded, and in their place, a horde of imps took shape. They screeched their terrible screech as their eyes landed on the group, and Atreus reflexively lifted his bow and fired, the arrow arcing through the air and embedding itself in the throat of the nearest demon.

Blood spewed from the imp’s neck as it collapsed, and the other imps immediately took action without even looking at their fallen comrade. Some immediately charged forward to get in close, and others stayed back and began summoning fire to their claws.

“Atreus!” Kratos called, but Atreus already knew what he was going to say. They had fought enough battles together that his actions had become second nature, and he obediently took up a position that placed Kratos between himself and the feral creatures, but still allowed him to keep a clear line of sight so that he could fire upon them with his bow.

Behind him, the Doom Slayer took up a similar position to his father, giving Atreus a line of defense from both sides as the horde of imps advanced upon them.  Keeping his field of vision wide, Atreus fired arrow after arrow as his father and the Doom Slayer engaged the demons. His knowledge as a warrior had grown rapidly, and Atreus immediately loosed arrows towards any demons that attempted to flank them, effectively keeping the horde from overwhelming the small party.

Atreus heard a series of loud banging noises, and he spared a quick glance to see that the Doom Slayer had produced some sort of weapon in his hands. Unlike his strange saw from before, this one appeared to be made of two metal cylinders attached to a wooden stock. Atreus had no idea what to make of the thing, but each time the Slayer pointed it at an imp, it would kick in his hands and a flash of light would burst from the end. The flash didn’t travel far, but each imp he fired it at would suddenly become extremely injured by some invisible force. Entire body parts nearly evaporated each time the machine kicked in the Slayer’s hands, and though Atreus was curious as to the strange weapon’s nature, he could not find a time to inspect it further, as his focus remained on picking off imps with his bow.

Out of the corner of his eye, Atreus suddenly noticed more flashes of light, each one heralding the arrival of more demons. Atreus fired an arrow in the direction as the light faded, hoping to drop the demon just as it spawned. Though his arrow hit its mark, Atreus’s eyes widened in surprise as a lumbering monster of a demon appeared instead of more imps. This one was larger than the hell knights that Atreus had already seen, and unlike the muscular form that they possessed, this one rounder and fatter with thick slabs of armor barely containing its blubbery form.

Three of these new demons had spawned around them, and Atreus saw that unlike the imps and hell knights, these demons actually wielded weapons in the form of two massive cannons in place of their hands and forearms. It was a chilling sight to see, as if being the size of an ogre wasn’t enough, these demons were actually armed.

“Watch out! These are a kind I’ve never seen before!” Atreus yelled, firing another arrow to try and hit one of these creatures through the eye. His arrow missed by no more than a few inches, and the fatter demon’s thick skin stopped the arrow from piercing too deeply, serving no purpose other than to annoy the new demon and have it set its malicious gaze upon Atreus.

“These demons are classified as mancubi,” VEGA’s voice said, his patient tone somehow carrying over the sounds of battle. “Their internal organs are highly flammable, therefore I advise severing the feed tube to the flamethrowers located on their arms, as the volatile gas will cause an explosion if allowed to diffuse.”

“Okay...but what is a flamethrower?! I don't know what that is!”

Atreus paused as the Doom Slayer suddenly charged the mancubus closest to him, and the demon growled and aimed its arm cannons at him in response, a stream of fire suddenly bursting from the end of the cannons and enveloping the Slayer in a scorching blaze.

“Oh…” Atreus gaped, the answer to his question blatantly staring him in the face. Before his eyes, the Doom Slayer emerged from the column of flames, his armor smoking but looking no worse than it did already. Leaping up, the Slayer landed on one of the demon’s enormous arms and grasped a tube that ran from the arm cannon to a port on the mancubus’s back. With a heave, the Slayer popped the seal, and the end of the tube came free from the cannon. A hissing noise filled the air as the gas within blew free, and the Slayer had barely enough time to leap away before the mancubus exploded, its grotesque innards flying everywhere.

“Boy!”

Ateus shook himself free from his stupor to the sound of his name, and he turned to see Kratos barreling through the remaining imps towards one of the remaining mancubi, who turned and readied its arm cannons to intercept him.

“Your bow!”

Thankful to have known him long enough to decipher what he meant, Atreus nocked an arrow and focused on the words he needed to say. Channeling the power infused in the bowstring, Atreus bellowed a command:

“Þruma!”

Electricity coursed across the bowstring and into the arrow as Atreus fired, and it struck home in the second mancubus’s soft belly flesh. Unlike with the hardened skin in the creature’s neck, the arrow did not meet much resistance, burying itself to the fletching in the creature’s stomach fat. Electric arcs coursed across the mancubus’s skin, but Atreus didn’t care about that, as it was the arcs within the creature’s body that mattered.

Just as planned, the electricity created a spark within the creature’s gut, which was more than enough to ignite the demon’s flammable innards. The mancubus gave an agonized roar before its front burst in an eruption of blood and guts, giving Atreus just enough time to see his father face the last of the three.

The Blades of Chaos sat in his hands, the blackened metal humming with the power they possessed. Before the mancubus could fire its flamethrowers, Kratos drove forward and buried the blades in the creatures exposed stomach. Without hesitation, the god of war drug the blades across the putrid flesh, widening the cut and causing the organs within to gush forth onto the ground at his feet.

After dragging the blades across the considerable width of the demon’s gut, Kratos wrenched them free and kicked the mancubus backward with force that only a god could muster. The creatures dying form flew backward a short distance, and its insides exploded midair, casting its bulk in numerous directions and blasting any unfortunate imps that were within its proximity.

“That’s all three!” Atreus called, nocking another arrow to pick off the remaining demons.

Shortly after, silence reigned throughout the clearing save for the hiss of demon flesh as it burned away. His breathing slightly labored from the intensity of the battle, Atreus walked over to his father, who was inspecting the remains of the gore nest with a keen eye. The Doom Slayer approached their group as well.

“Did we do it then?” Atreus asked. “Did we stop the invasion?”

“The lack of a gore nest will hinder the arrival of more demons,” VEGA said. “But after running a few rudimentary scans, I have concluded that there are at least two more here in Midgard.”

“Aye,” Mimir confirmed. “I can feel them nearby. It’s weaker than it was before, but it’s still there all the same.”

“If there are two remaining, then we will split up,” Kratos rumbled. “The sooner we eliminate the threat, the better.”

The Doom Slayer looked over at him through his cracked visor, then nodded once, agreeing with Kratos’s decision.

“Are you sure that’s wise, brother?” Mimir asked. “Suppose we meet a new kind of demon while we’re destroying the nest? These lads have acute knowledge of their weaknesses…”

“We will endure, head,” Kratos said with finality, ending any further protest.

“Very well. The Doom Slayer and I will travel northeast to one of the sites that my scans indicate,” VEGA chimed in. “Mimir, that leaves you to guide them northwest to the other gore nest’s location.”

“’Spose it does,” Mimir sighed. “I guess we’ll see you lads afterward?”

The Doom Slayer nodded his head once, then turned on his heel and marched off into the foliage, following VEGA’s heading to travel northeast.

Atreus watched him leave for a second, then looked over to Mimir’s dangling head.

“So, our heading is northwest then, Mimir?”

“Aye lad,” Mimir said. “But I fear we won’t have to search for this nest. I have a dark hunch as to where it is. I’m just hoping that I’m wrong…”

 

…

 

Kratos pulled the boat alongside Týr’s temple, and Atreus looked up to the doors of the realm travel room with dread. He could already see the red haze in the air, and he caught a whiff of the putrid stench as father and son exited the boat.

“The gore nest is inside the travel room?” Atreus said uncertainly.

“Aye lad, and I'm afraid that is the exact location I'd put it in if I were a demon. The roots of the Yggdrasil are more prominent here than nearly any other place in Midgard. And if their gore nest can tap into the Tree of Life…”

“…then they could gain a foothold in the other realms,” Kratos finished as they ascended towards the door.

The implication was enough to cause Atreus to audibly gulp, his mind already imagining the havoc that the demons would rain down upon the other realms if they were to gain access. Midgard was one thing, but Atreus shuddered to think what the demons would do if they took control of the light of Alfheim.

Taking a deep breath, Atreus shook his head and cleared his thoughts.

No.

That wasn’t going to happen. They would stop them. They had to. If they didn’t…

…no. focus!

Kratos seemed to notice his son’s apprehension, and he softly set his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Breathe, boy.”

Atreus met his gaze, then nodded and turned to the door to the antechamber as they approached. Using his strength, Kratos pulled open the door, and the red haze greeted them as they stepped into what was usually Brok and Sindri’s workshop but was now a completely deserted room. Their workstation was still there, but the Huldra brothers were nowhere to be seen. Atreus hoped that they were alright.

Together, they stepped across the small light bridge, and on the count of three, Kratos pulled the door wide open and they entered the travel room, weapons at the ready.

Inside, the gore nest came into view, and after disposing of the few imps and the hell knight that occupied the interior of the room, Atreus’s eyes widened in anxiety at what he saw. The gore nest itself was placed right next to the travel table, where the roots of the Yggdrasil were most abundant. Where the tendrils extended from the base of the gore nest, they snaked outward and merged grotesquely with the roots, dying the root a blood red at the source. The awful color spread a small way through the roots from where the tendrils latched on, making it seem like the tendrils were spreading their vile essence through the veins of the tree. The affected roots looked weakened and sickly, as though the gore nest was sapping its energy from it at the same time, and the whole scene was bathed in the hellish glow from the nest, and Atreus felt his heart sink as he took it all in.

“These demons…they really are evil, aren’t they?” he asked to no one in particular.

No one replied, as the answer to his question lay right in front of them. Frowning in anger, Atreus drew his knife.

“We need to destroy that thing. It’s making the Tree sick!”

He advanced on the gore nest with his knife raised but was stopped by Kratos’s hand.

“I will do it, boy. Ready your bow.”

Atreus paused, but then he nodded and sheathed his knife as Kratos stepped to the nest. Imitating the Slayer’s actions from earlier, Kratos drove his hand through the flesh sac on the side of the grotesque structure. The sac ruptured and sprayed dark fluids everywhere, and with a grunt, Kratos ripped something free from where his hand had gone in, and Atreus spied the heart of the nest gripped firmly in his hand.

As with before, the gore nest began to convulse and ripple violently, shrieking its bloody scream as it tore itself apart.

Multiple demons began spawning around them like when they had destroyed the first gore nest, but this time, Atreus was ready. He expertly aimed at the flashes of light that signaled their entry and fired just as they materialized, giving many demons no breathing room as they fell within moments of arriving.

Kratos had drawn the Leviathan Axe once more and was using the deep cold blade as a counter to the natural heat the demons seemed to emanate. More demons spawned to take the place of their fallen, but Kratos and Atreus worked flawlessly, executing the hellish creatures despite their superior numbers. A mancubus spawned in at one point, but Atreus had quickly silenced the beast with an arrow infused with electricity.

Just as the last of the demons fell to Kratos’s axe, a glowing red portal suddenly burst open from across the room. Atreus paused, fixated at the sight of the portal, and he noted that this one was quite different from the red flash of light that usually heralded the coming of a demon.

For a moment, the portal was still, then Atreus saw a figure emerge from its blackened depths. Expecting it to be another mortifying demon, Atreus’s eyes widened in surprise at the relatively human appearance of the figure. He bit his tongue however as the figure fully emerged from the portal, showing that it was anything but...

The first and most obvious sign to Atreus was the figure’s face. Piercing red eyes stared back at him, their glow amplified against the deathly pale skin that the figure possessed. Two sets of horns protruded from the figure’s head, one that protruded down and forward from its cheeks, and another longer pair that sprouted from its temples. Its mouth was covered by a green face plate of sorts, which matched the light armor that the figure was adorned in. A similarly colored set of shoulder plates, gauntlets, pants and greaves stuck out to Atreus, but it was the glowing red light that sat off-center on the figure’s chest plate that caused his gaze to linger. The appearance of the light, as well as the rest of the armor…

…it reminded Atreus of someone..."

“Father…?” Atreus nervously asked.

Kratos said nothing, but gently ushered the boy behind himself as the figure inspected the scene around itself. Its glowing red eyes lingered on the disintegrating demons, the Yggdrasil roots, and the remnants of the gore nest before its gaze returned to the two of them. It studied them for a moment, then spoke in a voice that sounded like rocks tumbling down a hillside.

“Where…is…he?” the figure demanded, its vocals slow and drawn out, as though it found speaking to be rather tedious.

Neither father nor son replied, and Kratos narrowed his gaze as the demonic figure drew a dark shaft of metal to its side. There was a vile hiss, and a double-bladed axe head burst to life at the end of the shaft. The head glowing with a malignant red energy that matched the hue of the gore nest.

Pacing across from them, the figure dragged the tip of the axe across the floor, sparks flying from where the metal of the shaft met the metal of the floor.

Kratos eyed the axe, then drew his own and stepped forward.

“Find an angle, and make it count,” the God of War whispered to Atreus, who nodded once. Across from them, the figure watched as Kratos approached to meet his issued challenge, his own axe glowing blue with frost in contrast to the deep red of the figure’s.

Deep red eyes followed his movement.

“Perhaps…the…whispers…were…false,” the figure rumbled.

“But…it…makes…no…difference…now.”

The figure stopped pacing and faced Kratos, who in turn stopped and faced it in return.

“You…will…die…just…like…them.”

In a flash, the figure charged forward, brandishing its axe and raising it in preparation. Kratos responded, uncoiling his wrist shield and parrying the blow. The red axe bounced off the hardened metal, giving Kratos an opening for counterattack. He swung his axe to strike the figure, but it responded in kind by summoning a shield of its own, the bright red energy forming into a large plate at its wrist. The blow clashed against the shield, but the figure staggered backward from the force of the blow, betraying that Kratos was the stronger between the two. Realizing this, the God of War surged forward to close the distance and strike once more, but the figure swiftly dropped its shield and grabbed a device from its hip. As it leveled device at Kratos, Atreus suddenly remembered seeing something similar in the hands of the Slayer…

“Father! Watch out!”

But it was too late. The device kicked in the figure’s outstretched hand, and Kratos roared in pain as blood misted from his chest. Thankfully, the device only seemed to stagger him rather than seriously wound, but it was enough for the figure to gain an opening to strike. It raised its axe once more, but Atreus had already nocked an arrow into his bowstring. Summoning the light of Alfheim, Atreus saw the blue light coat the arrow as he fired.

“Ljósta!”

The arrow caught the figure directly in its chest, and it staggered as the light crashed throughout its body. Unfortunately for Atreus, the figure recovered quickly, and with an angry growl, it raised its axe into the air. The gesture did nothing to intimidate Atreus, but to his astonishment, the ethereal form of a wolf appeared next to the figure. Its transparent body glowed a deep orange that gave away is vile nature, and with a snarl, the wolf charged at Atreus, giving the boy barely any time to nock an arrow before it leapt at him, its jaws open and lunging for his throat.

…

“Atreus!” Kratos shouted, his adrenaline spiking as the wolf lept for his son. He rushed to him, but the figure swung its axe for him again, forcing him to dodge backward and out of its path. The figure now stood between him and Atreus, its glowing in spite.

Unable to reach his child, Kratos felt his rage boil over inside of him, and with a guttural yell, his arms became wreathed in the fires of his fury. The demonic figure took a half-step back in surprise from his sudden transformation, but Kratos closed the distance in the time it took to blink. Bellowing in anger, the God of War ripped the red-bladed axe from the figure’s grip.

Holding the stolen weapon in two hands, Kratos brought the axe furiously down upon the figure. The demonic creature summoned its shield once more to block, but the power behind Kratos’s swing overwhelmed the defense. The red light of the shield cracked and broke, and the axe followed through, cleaving the figure cleanly in two down the middle. The sides of the cut glowed red from the energy of the axe blade, but Kratos did not care. He discarded the axe and rushed forward to assist Atreus, his eyes focusing on the boy just in time to see him drive his knife deeply into the phantom wolf’s neck. The wolf yowled in pain once, and then dissipated into the mist, leaving Atreus on his back with his knife outstretched into the air above him.

Kratos was at his son’s side in an instant, the rage within him subsiding as he saw that he had sustained no injuries. Atreus lay in shock for a few moments, his chest heaving with residual adrenaline from the encounter.

…

“Breathe,” Kratos instructed, propping Atreus up so that he was no longer on his back. Atreus consciously made an effort to slow down his erratic heart rate, and after a few moments, his breathing began to return to normal.

“What…what was that thing?” he asked apprehensively.

“I do not know,” Kratos said, helping Atreus to his feet.

“Mimir?”

“Haven’t the foggiest lad. Certainly was frightening though, yeah?”

“It’s armor…it looked a lot like…”

Atreus was interrupted as the door they had used to enter the chamber opened, spilling light into the dimly lit travel room. The shadowy silhouette of the Doom Slayer appeared against the light, crossing the room to where Kratos and Atreus stood.

Immediately, Kratos placed himself between Atreus and the Slayer and drew the Blades of Chaos.

“Stay where you are,” he commanded dangerously.

The Slayer eyed him through his cracked visor, but his pace gradually slowed to a stop, his form standing almost ten paces from Kratos and Atreus.

“You have lied to us,” Kratos growled.

“I do not understand,” VEGA said through the Slayer’s helmet. “Was the gore nest not in the direction that I indicated?”

“There was a creature, a demon. It bore armor like yours and a mark that matches the one on your helm,” Kratos fumed. “What is the meaning of this?!”

The Doom Slayer looked over to where the creature had drug its axe across the floor, then tilted his head downward in what Atreus interpreted as ‘irritated recognition’.

“This creature you encountered...” VEGA prompted. “Could you please describe it further?”

“It was looking for you!” Atreus chimed in. “It seemed almost like it was expecting to find you instead of us.”

There was a long pause, then VEGA spoke.

“I believe I know the nature of the demon you encountered, but to provide you with the details would require a substantial amount of time, and seeing as how the demonic threat has passed, we will both be moving on—”

“Well, well, well! Guess I shouldn’t be surprised to see you two sac-tappers bein’ the ones to clear this place out!” a new and familiar voice called from behind the Doom Slayer.

Glancing around the Slayer’s bulk, Atreus saw none other than Brok and Sindri approaching, the two dwarf brothers likely choosing now to emerge from wherever they had hunkered down during the demonic invasion. Brok was sauntering towards them with his hands on his hips, and Sindri had a cloth covering his nose and mouth, likely to avoid the stench of blood and guts that still permeated the travel room.

“Uh, hey Brok. Hey Sindri…” Atreus said, not entirely sure that right now was the best time for the dwarves to enter the encounter.

“Whatcha soundin’ so fuckin’ distraught fer?” Brok chortled, his well-meaning but rude mannerisms showing themselves yet again as he came closer. “Lest ya not forget it was me whose been—great Garmr’s gonads! Just what in the four corners are you wearing?!”

Brok and Sindri hastened over to the Doom Slayer at the sight of his strange armor, and within seconds, the dwarves were circling the Slayer like hawks, looking at the suit up and down like it was some sort of golden treasure. The Slayer eyed them warily, and Kratos growled at the dwarves’ interruption.

“We do not have time for this,” Kratos rumbled.

“Hold yer fuckin’ wad, ya big oaf,” Brok said, raising his hand in a halting gesture without taking his eyes off of the Slayer’s armor. “You remember when I told ya I know quality? Well this here is a fine example of quality!”

“Indeed!” Sindri chimed in, his voice muffled from the cloth over his face. “The level of precision on the additive welding is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before! Such mastery is rarely ever encountered…”

Lost in his thoughts, Sindri absentmindedly reached out and touched some of the leg plating on the suit. His eyes snapped open all of a sudden, and he jerked his hand back as though it were on fire.

“It’s…it’s filthy!” Sindri gagged, turning away and retching at the sight of all the gore on the Doom Slayer’s armor.

“That, and it’s beat to shit!” Brok said, placing his hands on his hips once more. He circled back around and looked up at the Doom Slayer through his cracked visor.

“Just what sort of beast you been tusslin’ with to damage such robust craftsmanship? The fuckin’ World Serpent could swallow this thing, crap it back out, and then swallow it again and there’d be not so much as a scratch on it! So just what did ya do?!”

“The Praetor Suit was damaged during an altercation with a superhuman from an alternate dimension,” VEGA replied kindly.

“An alternate what now?” Brok asked.

"An alternate--"

“Nevermind, whatever!"

A beat of silence passed, then Brok placed his hands on his hips and stared up at the cracked visor.

"So ya want we should fix it up, or what?”

Kratos growled angrily at Brok's offer to the Doom Slayer, but the dwarf silenced him.

“Aw hush up, he’s fine!” Brok said.

“But Brok, why would you offer to help him if you didn’t know his intentions?” Atreus asked curiously.

“Two things, ya little turd,” Brok said lifting his fingers for emphasis. “One: I ain’t gotten a chance to work on something this fine since we made that axe fer yer dear ol’ ma! And two: if’n this guy decides to try somethin’ funny, we got you two to tear him up!”

Brok let out a hardy laugh, and Sindri finally rejoined the conversation after emptying the contents of his stomach.

“I agree with my brother, which is not something that happens quite often, mind you. But please for the love of all things good and pure, can we please take this somewhere that is not as horrifically filthy as this?!”

Atreus glanced at his father uncertainly, who grumbled and slowly sheathed his blades. VEGA chose then to speak up from inside the armor.

"You're offer is generous. However, I am skeptical that you possess the expertise to properly repair the Praetor Suit. It possesses components that cannot be operated on with simple smithing materials."

"Are those 'special' components damaged?" Brok asked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"At the moment, they are not. However, I must advise--"

"If they ain't damaged, then quit yer bellyaching! I know you got some fancy gizmos in there, but we're not even gonna get below the surface of the damn thing, so they'll be fine!"

The Slayer looked down at the dwarf for a long moment, the nodded his head once in approval.

"Well al-fuckin'-right then! Let's do this!"

…

Kratos and Atreus leaned against the wall back in Brok and Sindri’s workshop, one watching with wariness and the other watching with interest as the two dwarves hammered away at the Doom Slayer’s armor. At first, they had asked the warrior to take it off so that they could make the necessary repairs, but the Slayer had blatantly refused. Despite griping from both Brok and Sindri, the Slayer refused to step out of the armor. Though they both grumbled about it, the Huldra brothers begrudgingly admitted that they could repair the armor without removing it from his body, so he remained armored, and the Dwarves set upon him with their tools.

So far, Brok had made the most progress, as many of the dents he had worked on were now completely gone, and many of the scratches faded as well. Sindri on the other hand, was attempting to work around many of the “filthy” spots on the armor, but due to the nature of the Slayer, there were in fact very few spots he deemed clean enough. Eventually, the germaphobic dwarf gave up, and came around to the Slayer’s front as he stood still.

“Alright, if you want me to repair the helmet, you’re going to have to take it off,” Sindri said, holding his ground despite the slight tremble in his voice.

Silence fell throughout the workshop. Even Brok had stopped hammering in order to see the Slayer’s reaction to Sindri’s request.

The Slayer stared down at the dwarf, but didn't make a move to remove his head armor.

“Look,” Sindri said irritably. “To repair the faceplate alone requires a fine level of concentration and finesse that I cannot achieve with your head still in it. If you leave it on, then I can’t do anything.”

The Slayer remained silent, but Atreus thought he saw the Slayer’s gaze flit over to him and Kratos for a brief moment.

The silence dragged on for a moment or two longer, then the Doom Slayer slowly lifted his gauntleted hands up to his helmet. There was a small hiss as the seal of the armor was broken, and then the Slayer lifted the helmet off of his head.

For a moment, nobody moved as they all saw his face for the first time.

The first and perhaps most important thing Atreus noticed was that the Slayer was, in fact, human. After their fight with that axe demon inside the travel room, the boy had been worried that the Doom Slayer had been a demon all along. He felt a great sense of relief wash over him, and he released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

The second thing that Atreus noticed was that the Slayer seemed to have this ever-permanent scowl on his face. The expression displayed the overwhelming sense of determination and indomitability that he portrayed even with his helmet on, but now Atreus could sense the never ceasing restlessness that the Slayer felt to kill demons. With a scowl like that, Atreus doubted that the man would ever smile.

Mimir was the first one to speak up from where he had been propped up on a shelf.

“Well, I’d say the mask doesn’t quite do you justice, does it? You’ve got yourself a right handsome face there, brother!”

Brok scoffed.

“Yeah right…at least as handsome as ya can hope to get without a beard…”

Atreus felt a smirk rise to his face at Brok’s quip. He noticed that apart from himself, the Doom Slayer was the only one present without any facial hair.

Sparing another glance up to his father, Atreus was pleased to see that Kratos had relaxed somewhat, likely due to the fact that the Slayer had been human after all. Like his son, Kratos had probably assumed the worst after their fight with that axe demon, and seeing the Slayer’s face had taken away some of the riskiness of the situation.

“Well, alright then,” Sindri said awkwardly as he carried the helmet over to his workbench. The Slayer’s eyes tracked him the entire time, likely ensuring that nothing happened to his armor that he did not approve of.

Thing were silent for a little while longer save for the combined hammering of Brok and Sindri, then Atreus decided to speak up.

“VEGA, you said that you might know who that axe demon we fought was?”

“Indeed,” VEGA replied. “Under present circumstances, I believe I have ample time to provide you with an explanation…”

VEGA then proceeded to weave a tale that was unlike any other Atreus had heard. The tale encompassed the demons, how the Slayer had battled them for many, many winters, some strange people called the Argenta and their gods, and how a bloody civil war had torn them apart. Before long, Atreus had taken his notebook back out and was furiously scribbling notes from VEGA’s tale.

According to VEGA, the axe demon they had fought was called a marauder, and it was one of the fiercest warriors the demonic hordes had to offer. In another life, the marauders had been among the ranks of the Argenta but had sided with the demons when the civil war had split them apart. When the marauders fell in battle, they were resurrected into the twisted demon forms that Atreus had witnessed firsthand. And now, they were now sworn to hunt the Doom Slayer. Their quest had been ongoing for quite some time, long enough that even VEGA did not know the exact length. The one they had fought had likely heard a report that the Slayer was the one destroying their gore nests and had moved to intercept him, but had found Kratos and Atreus instead.

Atreus had so many questions, but before he could open his mouth, Brok interrupted with a final tap of his hammer to the Slayer’s chest plate.

“That should do her. Give her a once over, why don’t ya?”

The Slayer inspected the reparations to his armor, and from what Atreus could see, it looked like there had never been any damage in the first place. In fact, the armor looked almost brand new.

As the Doom Slayer continued to inspect his repaired suit, VEGA’s voice spoke up from the torso.

“What manner of manufacturing did you use? I am unfamiliar with any disciplines that can achieve superior results such as these.”

Brok chortled.

“Just a little somethin’ called ‘a dwarf’s touch’ ya creepy spirit voice. And no, I ain’t tellin’ ya the secret to it because then it wouldn’t be much of a secret, now would it?”

“While that logic is indeed sound, I do not believe any harm will come from—”

“How bout ya shut yer nonexistent mouth and just be fuckin' grateful?!” Brok snapped crossing his arms. “Let’s not forget I’m doin’ this for free!!”

“You are correct. I apologize,” VEGA said. “The final result is far better than we could’ve hoped for.”

“Yer damn right, it is!” Brok said, his smile returning to his face. “And that’s also 'cause I decided to treat yer tin hide there to some reinforcin’ materials from my stock! She ain’t just good as new, she’s better than new! So, next time it’s gonna be a lot harder for ya to bang her up like whatca did before.”

At his words, the Doom Slayer gave a grateful nod down to Brok, though the slight scowl never left his face.

“And…there!” Sindri said with a final tap of his hammer to the helmet. Atreus looked and saw that just like the armor, the helmet also looked good as new. The scratches and the crack in the faceplate were completely gone. The strange red mark still existed just above where the left eye would be, but Atreus figured that was probably put there by something that would never buff out.

Walking over to the Slayer, Sindri offered the repaired helmet to him.

“I also have some improvements,” Sindri said proudly as the Slayer took the helmet from him.

“As many of you already know, I am a prodigy in the elusive ways of Vanir magic. As such, I saw fit to imbue a little bit of extra protection in the form of a spell!”

As the Slayer’s face disappeared back under the helmet once more, Sindri took a bowl of glowing powder and rubbed it all over his gloved hands. Once the hands were completely coated, Sindri traced a rune on the front of the Slayer’s chest plate, the magic powder glowing prominently on the suit where his fingers traced.

“Fullkominn…” Sindri whispered, the rune glowing even brighter as Sindri recited it.

The rune then faded slowly, and as it disappeared entirely, Sindri began tracing another over it.

“Vernd…” Sindri whispered once more, and this time, the entire suit glowed brightly before the rune faded once more. Stepping back to admire his handiwork, Sindri smiled proudly.

“All done!”

"Perfect...Protection..." VEGA recited, startling Sindri with his knowledge of the words.

"Y-yes! That's right! Are you a student of Seiður as well?"

"I am not," VEGA replied. "However, the language you utilize for your magic is congruent with a common tongue used in our home dimension."

"Really?" Sindri asked, raising an eyebrow contemplatively.

“Yes,” VEGA’s voice said calmly. "It is known as Icelandic."

"Icelandic, you say? Perhaps I should endeavor to visit sometime..."

"Aw shut yer gob, ya milksop!" Brok said irritatedly. "Ain't ya remember that this tosser has got somewhere to be?"

Sindri looked slightly downtrodden, but VEGA chose that moment to speak again.

“I am afraid he is correct. But before we depart, please allow me to extend gratitude on behalf of both of us for repairing the Praetor Suit. I am regretful that we have nothing to offer you in return.”

The Doom Slayer seemed to consider VEGA's words for a moment, then turned and walked back into the realm travel room, easily pushing the doors open and disappearing into the dimly lit interior, much to the confusion of everyone present. There was no sound for a few moments, then the Slayer reemerged, the marauder’s axe grasped firmly in one of his hands.

Atreus’s eyes widened. He had assumed that the axe had burned up with the marauder after they’d killed it, but the Slayer had suddenly arrived, and he had forgotten to even check.

The axe head was deactivated, so the handle appeared to be nothing more than just…well, a handle. Looking at the design, Atreus saw a skull sitting at the top of the handle where the axe head emerged, giving the weapon a rather sinister look overall.

Brok snorted as the Slayer walked over with the weapon.

“A fancy hunk of metal? That’s what you got fer us?”

The Doom Slayer said nothing, but instead held the axe out to the side. With a loud hiss, the axe head activated, the red energy taking a hardened shape once more. At the sight, both Brok and Sindri’s eyes boggled.

“Now that’s deadly!”

“And so sophisticated!”

“Give ‘er here!”

The Doom Slayer returned the axe to its deactivated state and set it down on the bench, and Brok and Sindri immediately scooped it up and turned to examine it with a closer look.

“I hope it will suffice,” VEGA said politely.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s great. Now leave us alone!” Brok said without even bothering to turn his head away from his evaluation of the weapon.

The Slayer spared the two dwarves a glance as they fawned over the axe, then looked over to Kratos and Atreus.

“I am afraid we must depart,” VEGA said. “We cannot afford to remain long in each realm that we come to.”

“Oh,” Atreus said wistfully. “But I still had so many questions…”

“I’m sorry that they must go unanswered, Atreus,” VEGA said. “But perhaps we will meet again one day.”

“Hopefully under better circumstances,” Mimir joked. “I gotta say, it was nice to have someone else without arms to talk to, so thanks for that!”

“It was my pleasure, Mimir.”

Kratos then stepped forward and offered his arm to the Doom Slayer, a gesture that Atreus recognized as one of respect among warriors. The Slayer returned the gesture and nodded to Kratos, who nodded back. Seeing them stand across from each other, Atreus noticed for the first time that Kratos towered over the armored figure. But despite that, the two of them looked at each other as equals.

“I doubted your intentions when we first met,” Kratos said. “But you in turn did right by us, and you have my gratitude for that. I will not forget this kindness.”

The Slayer nodded once more, then took a step back into the center of the room. After looking at each of them once more, the Slayer lifted his right hand and gave them a thumbs up. A flash of blue light immediately engulfed his form followed by a loud bang, and when the light faded, the Doom Slayer was gone.

Notes:

A/N: There it is! The God of War has met the God of Slaughter, and it went about how one would expect in my opinion. As always, be sure to leave a review of my work describing your love/hatred for the chapter, or if you want to share your opinion privately, please by all means shoot me a personal message. I'd love to hear from you guys no matter how you communicate with me!

Now, at this current juncture, I have a very critical decision to make. Do I continue with my current setting of placing the slayer between the events of 2016 and Eternal? Or do I insert a time skip and pick up after Eternal has ended?

In all honesty, I am leaning towards leaving everything as it is and keeping this story sandwiched between the two games, but I want to hear everyone's thoughts on the matter before I make my final decision. I want to hear what your take on my dilemma is so that I can paint a complete picture before committing to a certain path. Obviously I understand that in the end it is still my decision, but I want to make sure that there is nothing that I have missed before moving forward. So, oh wise and noble consumers of my literary material, what do you think?

Chapter 29: Interlude IV

Interlude IV (Animal Crossing)

VEGA immediately registered the anomaly as they emerged from dimensional space once more. Unfortunately, the tether had chosen to deposit them into the lower atmosphere of an unknown planet this time, meaning that as of arriving in this new dimension, the Doom Slayer was now plummeting through the air and towards the ground.

VEGA immediately began learning what little he could about their situation as the Doom Slayer oriented himself to stop their spinning. Audio sensors registered nothing save for the whistling of air as it rushed past them, so VEGA made use of visual and quantitative data instead.

Accounting for the pressure of the air and the calculated gravitational constant of this new planet, VEGA immediately confirmed that given the Slayer’s aerodynamic profile, it was impossible for them to achieve a falling speed great enough to cause significant damage.

VEGA’s conclusion was further solidified as he took note of their altitude, which had only been a mere twenty meters above the planet’s surface.

Unfortunately for them both, the low altitude of their entry did not give them enough time to alter their trajectory by much, a fact that VEGA found irksome due to the fact that they were currently plummeting towards a small town or village of some kind. Given that they were approximately 2.0274 seconds to impact, VEGA wasted no time in trying to give the Slayer a heading to aim for and instead calculated their impact point.

Confirming the results, VEGA was less than pleased with what his analysis showed. Seeing that he could take no action to help mitigate what was about to occur, VEGA did the only thing he could:

“Please brace for impact.”

…

Isabelle beamed as she finished organizing her desk. After letting it get so cluttered recently, she was happy to finally return things to their proper space. Taking a deep breath, Isabelle took a seat from her work, the bells in her headband jingling softly as she leaned back in the chair.

It had been quite some time since the mayor had departed for the Smash Tournament, and while Isabelle and the rest of the townsfolk had been happy that their leader had been presented with such an opportunity, the departure had the ill result of increasing her workload quite a bit.

In addition to her usual duties, Isabelle had also absorbed quite a few of the mayor’s tasks in their absence. She had been happy to help out of course, but there were times that her new tasks required her to make important decisions for the town, and no matter how obvious the correct choice seemed, Isabelle always felt a little worried if she had done the right thing. She always did her best, but being in charge was hard sometimes, and Isabelle wondered if she was doing as good of a job as she hoped.

Suddenly, Isabelle’s ears perked up as she heard a loud commotion from outside. It sounded like a large booming noise, and she immediately became worried that someone was hurt. Rushing from her desk and out the doors of town hall, Isabelle frantically looked left and right to search for the source of the noise, and to her surprise, she saw Rosie running towards her, a shocked expression on her features as she hurried over.

“Rosie!” Isabelle said in alarm. “What’s wrong? Is everything ok?”

“Isabelle! Come quickly! A giant just fell on the new home next to the river!”

“A…giant?” Isabelle asked incredulously.

“Yes!” Rosie said with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. “It’s really big! And it’s wearing a really weird suit! I think it might be a space giant!”

The story was quite outlandish, even for Rosie, but she seemed very excited about it, so Isabelle trotted after her as she led the way.

After a short stretch of jogging after Rosie, Isabelle saw the house come into view, or more accurately, what was left of it. The town was expecting a new resident to arrive tomorrow morning, and Tom Nook had been hard at work making sure that the house was ready on time for their arrival. He had just put the finishing touches on it yesterday, but now it had been reduced a barely recognizable pile of shingles and siding. Isabelle felt a twinge of sadness at all of the hard work gone to waste, but her attention was quickly diverted to what she saw next.

Standing next to the pile of rubble and dwarfing it by comparison was a person of monstrous size. Now seeing firsthand that Rosie’s story was indeed true, Isabelle gaped up at the person, craning her neck to try and see just how tall they were. This figure was even taller than the trees that stood around the town, and as Isabelle looked the giant’s head to its feet, she saw that even with her hair tied up like it was, she was barely over the figure’s knees in height.

Isabelle tried to see the giant’s face, but it was covered by a dark green helmet with an opaque visor to match. The figure looked back down at her with curiosity, and Isabelle gulped and offered a small wave with her hand.

“Ah…h…hello!” she offered, trying to sound cheery and bright despite her nervousness. “Did…did you fall? Are you alright?”

“Hello,” came a voice from the suit. “We are uninjured. Thank you for asking. I sincerely hope no one else was hurt when we landed.”

The voice was kind and polite, and both Isabelle and Rosie relaxed at its comforting tone.

“No one was hurt, thank goodness,” Rosie chimed in. “I was the only one nearby when it happened. Are you sure that you’re ok? You completely destroyed the home when you landed!”

“The armor protected us from harm,” the voice replied. “I am grateful for your concern, but please do not worry. I am more troubled by the damage that we have done to this structure. Did this dwelling belong to either of you?”

Isabelle shook her head no and explained that it was for a resident that was moving in tomorrow, then proceeded to introduce both herself and Rosie to the strange giant. She then raised an eyebrow quizzically.

“I’m sorry, but why do you keep calling yourself ‘we’, Mr…uh…?”

“I am VEGA,” the voice finished politely. “I use the term ‘we’ because I am not the one wearing this armor. I am merely an artificial intelligence that resides within the armor’s systems.”

“An artificial what-now?” Rosie asked.

“An artificial intelligence. A synthesized lifeform,” VEGA clarified. “If it helps, you may think of me as an advanced computer that can speak.”

“But if you’re not the one wearing the armor, then who is?”

“That would be the Doom Slayer,” VEGA replied. The giant nodded once at the mention of his name.

“Wow! So, you are both partners, then!” Isabelle said cheerfully. “But did you really fall out of the sky?”

“Yes, we did. We landed here from a place very far away. We were attempting to return but accidentally arrived here instead.”

“Oh…I’m very sorry to hear that. Is there any way that we can help, Mr. VEGA?”

“I am of the opinion that we should be the ones helping you,” VEGA replied, his point causing the Doom Slayer to nod in agreement and gesture to the destroyed house.

Isabelle then understood. The two of them wanted to fix what they had broken, and the thought of them wanting to make amends brought a cheerful smile to her face.

“Oh, are you sure? Thank you so much! I was worried that we wouldn’t have a place for our new resident to stay tomorrow, but if you are offering to help rebuild the house, then we’d gladly accept your help!”

With Rosie and the Doom Slayer in tow, Isabelle ventured over to Nook’s Cranny to inform Tom Nook about what had happened. At first, Tom had been upset that the house he had built was completely destroyed, but his mood improved greatly when he heard that the Doom Slayer and VEGA were offering to repair it free of charge. He directed them to the back of his shop where he kept his tools and materials, and soon the three of them were all walking back to where the house once stood.

Isabelle and Rosie both carried a bucket of paint in their arms, and the Doom Slayer carried everything else, which was no small amount of materials. The two villagers marveled at how strong the giant man was, and they both giggled when Rosie made a joke about Roald wanting to steal his workout routines.

As soon as they made it back, the Slayer immediately began construction on the house. Both Isabelle and Rosie were surprised when they saw how fast he worked; his hulking strength paralleled only by his attention to detail in building a solid foundation. Isabelle and Rosie helped where they could, offering him tools when he required them and helping keep the work area clean. Isabelle thought it was funny to watch the Slayer work with such small equipment. Since the nails were the of pins to him, he did not even bother to use the hammer. He just tapped the nails into place with his palm.

Despite neither Rosie nor Isabelle saying a word to anyone except Tom Nook about a giant in their town, word spread rather quickly, and soon nearly everyone had ventured out to the construction site to see him.

Like Isabelle, everyone was surprised by just how large the man was, and because no one could see his face, everyone soon began to gossip about what he looked like without his suit. Some thought that he might be a space alien, while others thought that he was a robot. Some still persisted that he was a human like the mayor. No one idea was more valid than the other, however, and despite asking VEGA multiple questions, no one could figure it out.

Eventually, everyone went back to their own activities, leaving the Slayer alone to work on the house. Only Isabelle stayed behind to help, as Rosie said she was going to go pick some flowers for their new resident arriving tomorrow.

Thanks to the Slayer’s size and strength, the house was rebuilt in no time, and the only task that remained was to paint it. At this point, Isabelle became very excited, as this was a task that she could take a more active role in.

Eagerly hopping over to one of the cans, Isabelle fruitlessly attempted to open it, her inability to break the seal becoming quite obvious as she yanked and pulled on the lid.

After watching her struggle for a brief moment, the Slayer came over and showed her how to do it by demonstrating with his own paint can. Taking a screwdriver, which looked more like a toothpick in his massive hands, the Slayer carefully tucked the tip under the lid and used the length of the screwdriver as a lever to pry the paint can open. Isabelle watched closely the entire time, and when the Slayer had completely removed the lid from his can, he carefully passed the screwdriver over to her so that she could try.

Setting her jaw, Isabelle placed the tip of the screwdriver under the lid just like the Slayer had, and slowly but firmly, she pushed down on the handle to pry the lid off, and she was rewarded with a soft pop as the lid’s seal was broken.

Smiling pridefully, Isabelle then removed the lid without any issue and passed a paintbrush over to the Slayer. Before long, they had both fallen into a comfortable pace as they painted the exterior of the new home.

Even though it was work, Isabelle actually found herself having quite a bit of fun, and she smiled and started humming a little tune before a thought crossed her mind.

“Mr. Slayer, is it true that you accidentally landed in our town when you were trying to return home?”

The Slayer paused his brush for a moment, then answered her question with a nod.

“Well…if you can’t find your way back home, you could stay here if you wanted to. I mean, you’re really good at building houses, so you could make one here really easily!”

The Slayer looked over to Isabelle once more, and even though he didn’t say a word, she could tell by the small shake of his head that he could not accept her offer. Isabelle couldn’t help but feel a bit sad that her new friend couldn’t stay, but she perked back up and smiled as another thought crossed her mind.

“Well that’s alright. Even still, please feel free and come back and visit again! Hopefully the mayor will be back by then, so you two can meet each other!”

The Slayer nodded once and gave Isabelle a thumbs up with his left hand, and she felt her tail wag happily at his desire to visit again one day.

“I would be content to return some day as well, Isabelle,” VEGA said cordially from inside the suit. “I find your town and its people to be very hospitable.”

Isabelle blushed and thanked VEGA for his compliment, continuing her happy tune as she continued to paint her wall.

Once they had finished, Isabelle helped the Doom Slayer pack their materials back up so they could return them to Nook’s Cranny. By then, the sun had begun to set in the horizon, casting the town in a golden-orange glow that Isabelle found to be very beautiful.

As the Slayer stepped forward in the direction of the shop, Isabelle hung back a moment, folding her hands in front of herself and shuffling her feet sheepishly.

“Um…Mr. Slayer?”

He stopped and turned back to her inquisitively.

“Can I maybe…stand on your shoulder on the way back? I’ve never been that high up before, and I wanted to see what it was like…”

The Slayer considered for a moment, then nodded once and got down onto one knee. Shifting all of the materials he was carrying to one arm, he held his free hand down on the ground with the palm up, inviting her to climb on.

Feeling overly excited at the approval of her request, Isabelle jumped forward and clamored onto his hand, which was easily large enough for her to stand in without too much trouble.

Once he was sure she was stable, the Slayer stood back up to his full height and placed Isabelle gently onto his shoulder, who quickly found her footing and held onto his helmet for stability.

“Wow!” Isabelle exclaimed, looking out over the town from her newfound vantage point.

“I can see everything from up here! Look, there’s my house, and town hall, and the museum, too!”

The Doom Slayer seemed satisfied with her excitement, and he took his time returning to Tom Nook’s store so that Isabelle could enjoy the experience longer. During that time, Isabelle enjoyed the sunset like she never had before. The grandeur of the waning day all lay before her without any obstacles blocking her view, and she admired the colors swimming across the sky as the Slayer walked across the land.

After they had dropped or their items and assured Tom that the home was in tip-top shape for tomorrow, VEGA informed Isabelle that it was finally time for them to leave. Isabelle felt sadness fall on her shoulders at the news, but before the Slayer could put her down, she quickly had an idea.

“Wait!” she said. “Can we stop by the town hall first? I want to give you something to thank you for all of your hard work today!”

With agreement from both VEGA and the Doom Slayer, Isabelle happily pointed the way from his shoulder, and in no time, they had arrived back at city hall once more, where the Doom Slayer set her back on the ground once more.

Promising to be back in just a second, Isabelle ran inside and hastily rummaged through her desk, looking for something in particular. After a few fruitless moments of searching, she heard a familiar jingling noise and her fingers brushed up against the familiar elastic material of one of her spare headbands.

Grinning from ear to ear, Isabelle hurried back outside with her two headbands jingling erratically as she ran. The Doom Slayer watched her as she skidded to a stop in front of him, and after pausing a moment to catch her breath, Isabelle proudly offered the spare headband to the Slayer.

“Take this with you!” she said enthusiastically. “That way you won’t forget about us or the fun memories we made today!”

Leaning down, the Doom Slayer gently took the headband and examined it through his visor. He seemed to like the gift, and after a moment of brief consideration, he reached behind himself and produced a gift of his own.

The object in his hand was larger than the headband she had given him, and before she could ask what it was, the Doom Slayer set it down on the grass in front of her.

It was a miniature version of the Doom Slayer, a toy that had been built to look like him in his suit of armor. The details were all there, and despite looking rather small in his hands, the toy stood almost to Isabelle’s chin now that they were on the same level.

Taking in his gift to her, Isabelle felt her heart overflow with joy.

“I love it!” she squealed happily, picking up the toy with both hands and holding it up to her face. “Thank you so much!”

The Doom Slayer nodded once before kneeling down and holding out his fist in a friendly gesture.

Setting the toy down carefully, Isabelle eagerly bumped his fist with her own, her smile so wide that she felt it might freeze there. She had made a brand-new friend today, and now they both had something to remember each other by.

Standing back up, the Doom Slayer took a step back, and Isabelle did the same.

“Goodbye, Mr. VEGA! Goodbye Mr. Slayer! I hope to see you again soon!”

“I do as well, Isabelle. Take care,” VEGA said.

Lifting his right hand, the Doom Slayer made another thumbs up, and this time, a bright flash of blue light engulfed his form followed by a loud bang. Isabelle blinked her eyes against the glare, but before her eyes could adjust, the light faded, and the Slayer was gone.

Turning back to the miniature toy Slayer, Isabelle moved to pick it up before she heard approaching footsteps from behind her. Turning around curiously, she saw none other than Pete the mailman approaching with a letter in his hand.

“Hello Isabelle! I have a letter for you!” Pete said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t deliver it sooner, but it fell under the table this morning, and I didn’t find it until now.”

As Pete walked up, he noticed the toy Doom Slayer standing in the grass next to Isabelle.

“Wow! That looks very nice, Isabelle! Where did you get it?”

Isabelle looked back at the figurine and smiled broadly.

“It was a gift…from a very good friend.”

“How thoughtful of them!” Pete said before handing her the letter.

“Thank you, Pete! I’ll see you tomorrow,” Isabelle said as Pete waved and went back the way he came.

Looking down quizzically at the letter, Isabelle noticed that the seal was of some strange symbol that she did not recognize. It was certainly addressed to her, but there was no return address, making the origin of the letter as mysterious as its seal.

Sparing a glance over to the Slayer toy, Isabelle playfully held the letter up to it.

“What do you think of this, Lil’ Mr. Slayer? Have you seen this before?”

The figurine said nothing in response, and Isabelle jovially noted that the real Doom Slayer would’ve reacted the exact same way.

“Well, let’s get inside, and then we’ll take a look!” Isabelle said determinedly, picking up the little Slayer with one arm and walking back into the town hall.

Notes:

A/N: I'm not sure if you could tell, but I've been wanting to write this chapter for a little while. Quite honestly, it might be the first chapter I've written where nobody gets hurt, so there's a first!

Chapter 30: Slender

Notes:

A/N: Oh hello there! I'm back with another chapter! This one is not as incredibly long of course, but I like to think it plays its own narrative while simultaneously setting the stage for the chapter that follows after this one. As always, please enjoy and remember that I own none of this!

Agent Jacobs sighed as he approached the asylum, and he half-mindedly beeped the Crown Vic behind him to make sure it was locked. He had learned long ago that you couldn’t be too careful with using assigned vehicles, so he always double checked that it was locked when he parted from it. Usually the thought of someone pilfering through his transport was enough to put him in a dour mood for the rest of the day, but unfortunately for Jacobs, the details of today’s assignment had already dampened his spirits.

Less than a day ago, another missing person case had sprung up, which brought the total number of cases up to twenty-five in the last month. That number by itself wasn’t anything to be alarmed about, as statistically fifty thousand people were reported missing a month in the United States alone, but these twenty-five stood out specifically because all of these twenty-five cases had been children under the age of ten, and they all had been reported in a very small area: the Douglas State Forest.

Now, folks had been going missing in the forest for as long as Jacobs could remember, but twenty-five in the span of one month? And all of them children younger than ten? That was a very high number given the criteria, and at this point, the case was now above the pay grade of the Worcester County Sherriff’s Office. It was time for the feds to get involved, and at first, Jacobs had been excited to have the case assigned to him. He hadn’t had the chance to get out of the field office in a long time, and this was a great opportunity to solidify his reputation to the chief. If all went well, he could see more high-level cases coming his way soon, and after that…well, who knew?

The case, however, had proven to be as difficult as they came. Each time Jacobs ventured out into the field in search of leads or clues as to the crimes, he would always come back with almost nothing. The children would be walking home from a friend’s house or biking on the road, but after that, they would just completely disappear without a trace. No bloodstains, no signs of struggle, no tracks of any kind. The best thing Jacobs had found was an abandoned bike on the side of the road that had belonged to one of the missing children, but that trail had gone cold almost as soon as he began following it. He had been stuck for quite a while, until just recently. Another child had been reported missing in the area, and this time, there was a witness.

Jacobs had been ecstatic to hear the news, as eyewitness evidence could give him a description of a suspect, which by itself opened many doors to possible ways to find the culprit behind this. Even with something as small as if the suspect wore a mask, Jacobs could work with it. It was his job to do so. The wind had left his sails in a heartbeat though as soon as he’d learned the nature of the witness:

Her name was Marie Tejada, the older sister of the child who’d been kidnapped, and she was the reason that he was visiting the insane asylum today. Apparently, she had gone into the woods looking for her younger sister, Sophie, who had not been home in time for dinner. During her search, she had apparently come across the one behind the kidnapping but had failed to stop them before they had taken Sophie away. According to the doctors, the event had stripped her of her sanity and left her mind in shambles, giving her horrible tremors in her limbs and greatly limiting her motor functions. She could still speak and listen, but she was not quite “all there” as the staff put it. When asked questions, Marie would never give a straight answer, or sometimes she did not answer at all. She seemed at least mildly aware of her surroundings, though, and the doctors reminded Jacobs that he may not be able to get much out of her, especially since the trauma of the event was still fresh on her mind.

Jacobs took another deep breath as he entered through ward’s main entrance, and a polite receptionist welcomed him and took his name before informing him that they were waiting for him in visiting room B. Jacobs thanked the receptionist and quickly made his way over to the direction indicated. A doctor was waiting for him.

“Agent Jacobs,” the doctor said. “I am Doctor Driskel. I am Marie’s personal psychiatrist. I believe we’ve spoken over the phone?”

“Indeed,” Jacobs said, exchanging a friendly handshake with the doctor. “I appreciate that you’re allowing me time to speak with Marie. The F.B.I. also thanks you for your cooperation in this matter.”

Doctor Driskel gave a courteous nod.

“Thank you for consulting me with this interrogation,” she said. “Some feds I’ve worked with in the past have been more…forceful, shall we say.”

“I see,” Jacobs replied. “Well, I try to work with people on things, I find it often leads to better cooperation.”

Dr. Driskel gave a small nod of approval, but then her face hardened.

“I’m aware that you came here to ask her about the incident, Agent Jacobs. And while I am trying to help you the best I can, I must remind you of the fragile state Marie is in right now. We are making progress with improving her speech and motor capabilities, but there is a small chance that reliving those traumatic experiences could worsen her condition. I know you can’t make promises, so I am asking you to please not push a question if it unsettles her too much.”

Jacobs sighed. This was the part he had been afraid of. If he managed to set off the witness somehow by triggering those painful memories of hers, then he could not only worsen her mental state, but also lose any chance of getting her to share more with him. Any way he looked at it, treading carefully was the best approach in this case.

“I believe that it is in both of our interests that such a thing doesn’t happen, doctor,” Jacobs said. “I will make sure to gauge her reaction to the best of my ability.”

At this, Jacobs saw Doctor Driskel visibly relax at his words, and she nodded once more before slowly turning and opening the door to visiting room B. The room itself was circular with no corners. One curved wall stretched all the way around, and a painted landscape of small hills and trees were displayed proudly. Jacobs supposed that it was meant to put patients at ease.

In the center of the room, a young woman with jet black hair that went down to her shoulders was seated at the table. The woman was dressed in a baggy pair of pants and a large grey shirt to match, the mandatory apparel for all patients within the ward.

As Jacobs saw her for the first time, he noted that her description over the phone had been accurate. Her entire body seemed restless, and a visible tremor was in her arms and her legs, the erratic vibrations spreading even to her fingers as she inspected what looked like a rubik’s cube in her hands. The woman did not look up from her cube as Jacobs and Dr. Driskel approached, and Jacobs noticed that she had a slight twitch in her neck as well.

“Marie…” Dr. Driskel said kindly. “You have a visitor! He’s come to ask you a few questions.”

At the doctor’s words, Marie’s gaze finally flitted to Jacobs, her eyes barely spending more than a half of a second on him before returning to her cube. Her eyes darted to him again after another half second, then returned to her cube.

“Suit…” she murmured; her words not quite as articulated as an average person’s but still understandable.

“Suit…suity…suit…suit-and-tie…suit like him…suit like him…”

Jacobs shared a glance with Dr. Driskel, then took a seat across from Marie and gave her a smile of his own.

“Hello Marie! I’m Agent Jacobs. It’s nice to meet you!”

“Nice…nice…” Marie echoed absentmindedly. “Nice day…sun is high…”

“It is a nice day, isn’t it?” Jacobs said, noticing that Dr. Driskel took up a position leaning against the wall to quietly observe the conversation. Jacobs watched as Marie fiddled with her cube for a moment, then decided that it was time to delve into the weeds.

“Marie? You said I’m wearing a suit…like him? May I ask who he is?”

A tense silence fell, and Jacobs immediately knew that the “he” was somehow tied to his case. The only problem came from how Marie answered the question, or even if she chose to answer it at all.

“Bad…bad suit man…”

“A bad man in a suit?”

“suit…suit and tie…bad man…”

“Can you tell me what he looks like?”

“Look…no…no…don’t look…or he takes…takes you away…” Marie shook her head.

Jacobs spared Dr. Driskel another glance to see if she was close to intervening, but the doctor gave him a small nod to indicate that he could continue.

“If you look at him, he takes you?” he asked carefully.

“Look…look is bad…I look…he try to take me…took…took Sophie…”

Marie seemed upset, yet she still seemed to be in control of herself.

“Did you see his face, Marie?”

“Face…” Marie echoed. “No face…face…gone. No eyes…still see…no mouth…still eat…”

“The man had no eyes or mouth?” Jacobs reiterated, taking out his notebook and jotting down a few notes.

“No mouth…no eyes…bright white…like the moon…”

Suspect described as male and lacking facial features, possibly Caucasian, and wearing a suit…

“Man…man like tree…tall man…thin man…”

…witness describes suspect as tall and slender.

Jacobs finished jotting it down, then looked back up at Marie and took a deep breath.

“Marie, can you tell me what happened the night you saw this man?”

…

Marie darted between the trees, looking frantically left and right as she called out Sophie’s name. It was already well past ten, and the darkness of the night was thick upon the woods around her. Sophie was supposed to have been home an hour ago, and when she hadn’t returned, Marie had assumed the worst. She had heard about the growing number of missing children, and she knew that the forest was Sophie’s favorite place to play.

She had warned her never to go too far into the woods, and now, her worst fears were coming true.

“Sophie!” Marie called out desperately into the darkness, shining her flashlight all around.

No response came, and Marie forced back the hopelessness she felt at the vast emptiness of these woods. She shook her head and was just about to call out again when something caught her eye through the trees. Hurriedly, Marie ran over to the sight to find a piece of paper hanging on the trunk. The paper itself appeared to be old and stained, but it was the haphazard scribbling on the document that caught her attention. In the center of the page, there was a circle drawn, almost like a cartoonish face. There was no mouth or nose, and in place of the eyes, two large X’s had been drawn. Above and below the drawing, Marie noticed that some words had been scribbled as well.

“Always Watches…No Eyes…”

Marie stared at the page for a moment, then frantically grabbed it off the tree. The drawing was cryptic and chilling to look at, but if it somehow held a clue to Sophie’s disappearance, then Marie would take it with her. Anything to find her sister.

Marie hadn’t made it more than a few steps before a sudden pain shot through her head, causing her to stumble for a moment as her brain throbbed behind her eyes. She cried out and placed a palm to her temple to try and ease the pain, but it only seemed to increase as she fell to her knees. Her vision blurred with the pain, and Marie also became aware of a distinct ringing in her ears that seemed to be growing louder by the second.

What was happening to her? Marie cried out again as the intense pain grew worse still, and her entire body began to tremble as she tried to force herself to her feet. Forcing her eyes open, Marie looked up to see a nightmare appear through her blurred vision.

Before her stood a man, but to call him a man would only be true in the loosest definition imaginable. The man stood nearly twice as tall as what could be considered normal, and his frame was extremely thin as well with unnaturally long arms that nearly only hung a foot off the ground. His frightening aura stole Marie’s breath from her body, but it was only when she looked upon his face that her sanity left her.

A pale blank canvas gazed down upon her form, with no hair or facial features to speak of and no discernable humanity. Through her pain, Marie’s mind knew that this was the one that had taken Sophie, and she screamed in anger and agony at the monster before her. In truth, she didn’t know if she made any noise at all, as the ringing in her ears had gotten so loud that she couldn’t hear anything else.

Her vision then began to fade slowly, but as she slipped into unconsciousness, Marie thought she saw a flash of light from behind the creature. And as the light faded, a silhouette emerged from the darkness and fell upon the creature…

…

“Someone saved you from the man in the suit?” Jacobs asked carefully. Marie’s neck and fingers twitched, still focused on the rubik’s cube even as she replied.

“Save…someone save…someone in suit…”

“There was another person in a suit? Was it like the suit that the tall man wore?”

“No…not suit and tie…hard…hard suit…green suit…space suit…”

Jacobs nodded with encouragement and continued to jot down his notes.

“How did the one in the space suit save you? Did they fight the tall man?”

“All dark…not see…bells ringing…no hear…but wake up…space man there…”

“You woke up and the space man was there with you in the woods?”

“Took me back…back to home…voice in suit…ask question…tell story…story of suit and tie…”

Witness describes being saved by a man in a space suit. Possibly cultist attire? Costume?

“What story did he tell you?”

“World…big blue Earth…Earth is page…one page…not book…book…book is many pages…and voice…voice different…space man different…from different page…”

Jacobs knew that these were just ravings, but often incoherent ramblings could be attributed to a real experience. He just had to figure out what this story meant.

“The spaceman is from a different page?” he asked, encouraging her further.

“Spaceman…different page…” Marie said affirmingly. “Suit and tie man…different page too…but not same…not spaceman page…different page…”

Witness describes the suspect as well as her savior as from different ‘pages’. Possibly different countries? Perhaps two warring cults?

“And they are here, on our page with us?” Jacobs asked. “Why are they on our page?”

“Spaceman…voice…on our page…accident…accidentally come…”

Jacobson nodded as he continued to write down her words. Every piece of information, no matter how farfetched, was important.

“Tall man…tall man is different…came on purpose…came to find…came to harvest…”

Jacobs paused in his writing and glanced over to Dr. Driskel, who shook her head in response. Apparently, she did not know what Marie was talking about either.

She says the ‘spaceman’ came to our page by accident. The assailant did not, he came to our page to find something…

“And just what is here on our page that the man wants to harvest, Marie?”

Marie then became slightly unsettled and began rocking back and forth slowly in her seat.

“farm…harvest…harvest us…human…but likes younger…takes them back…back to his page…keeps them…saves them for something…”

Jacobs frowned at her words, but continued to write down her words.

“The tall man takes the children away.” Cannibal? Trafficking?

“And what did the spaceman do to the man in the suit and tie?” he asked.

“Suit and tie…forced back…back to home page…not forever…voice says…suit and tie…come back…soon…find more…”

Savior drove off the attacker but told the witness that they would be back.

“What did they say after that?”

“Voice…spaceman…stay…stay until come back…then take tall man…take far away…away from home page…so no escape…tear away from page…no run…no escape…then rip…then tear…”

Jacobs frowned at that statement.

Witness claims that their savior will take the suspect away from his ‘page’ and then kill him. Says that he can’t escape if he’s away from his page. What page? Why can’t he escape?

The rest of the interview proved to be unnecessary, as Marie had apparently told him all that she knew. Despite Marie’s outlandish tales, Jacobs felt the interview had gone well. He had never expected the girl to be so lucid, and he had assumed that she would’ve screamed or broken down at the recollection of the event. Thankfully, that had not been the case, and Jacobs now had much more information to go off of. He had also learned that someone else was involved in this case, a ‘spaceman’ of sorts. As soon as he got back to the office, he had a lot of research to do. The prospect of possible cult kidnapping or human trafficking had been present from the start, but with this new testimony, Jacobs was certain that he was on the right track.

After thanking both Marie and Dr. Driskel, Jacobs exited the ward. The sun had already gone down, and Jacobs turned on his headlights as he pulled the Crown Vic away from the asylum. The hospital itself stood no further roughly a half an hour drive from the field office, but Jacobs didn’t mind the drive, especially since the case had just taken a new turn. This gave him time to mull things over. Just when he thought he had reached another cold trail; the witness had given him some new insights. Marie’s testimony was nothing but a fantasy when taken at face value, but if he could decipher the meaning behind her words, he might just have a chance to catch the criminals behind these kidnappings. With a long night of investigation ahead of him, Jacobs turned on the radio and—

Something suddenly struck the side of the Crown Vic, and before Jacobs could regain control, the car was skidding off the pavement and into the nearby trees, the force of the impact sending it shooting sideways. Jacobs slammed on the brakes and tried to right it, but the car slammed hard into one of the hardened trucks, and he was jerked hard to the right as the force resounded through the frame.

For a moment, Jacobs sat still and willed the world to stop spinning, then he raised his head and glanced at his surroundings. Shards of broken glass and distorted metal filled his vision, and he saw that the Crown Vic had been totaled by its impact when it had collided with the tree. Thankfully, the driver’s side of the car had held up, and even though Jacobs ached all over, nothing seemed to be broken.

Fumbling with his hands, Jacobs managed to undo his seat belt and force open the now crumpled door, stumbling down onto his hands and knees once he was clear. He felt warm liquid blood seep down the side of his face, but the flow was weak, and upon inspection he saw that it was only a minor cut. Finally staggering to his feet, Jacobs turned his attention back to the Crown Vic to see what it was that had struck the side of his car.

Rounding to the side of the impact, he was startled to see that a massive dent had been punched into the frame, almost as though it had been slammed by a wrecking ball. In fact, the passenger’s side of the car almost now ceased to exist, as it had completely caved in from the impact. Confused and in shock, Jacobs staggered back to the road to try to get a glimpse of what it was that had hit him. Following the skid marks back, Jacobs froze at the sight that greeted him.

It was part of a tree trunk, roughly half as tall as Jacobs but almost two feet in diameter. Glass and plastic lay haphazardly around the log, and Jacobs estimated that given the density of the oaks in this area, that log had to weigh no less than five hundred pounds.

The realization of the sheer weight of what had hit his car certainly explained why his Crown Vic had been totaled, but with one question answered, another took its place. Where the hell did it come from? Lifting a quarter of a ton was no easy feat, but to throw it? That was something nothing short of a catapult could achieve. But he was in the middle of the woods, where the hell could a catapult be out here?

Pulling out his phone and activating the flashlight, Jacobs squinted and searched the foliage, trying to see if he could make anything out against the gloom.

“Hey!” he called out. “Is anybody out there?”

Nothing but silence greeted him in return, the air now eerily still. Nothing was heard save for Jacobs’s breathing as he waited for a response. He squinted harder to try and pick anything out in the darkness, and suddenly, he saw movement next to one of the trees.

No, the tree itself was moving…

Jacobs’s blood froze in his veins next, as he saw that it was no tree.

It was a shape, the shape of a nightmare, and his eyes reflexively darted to the top of the form to see a featureless face staring back at him.

Jacobs gasped and back pedaled onto the road as the figure approached, snapping branches and twigs alike as it drew closer.

It was him. It was the man in the suit that Marie had told him about. He was here in the forest. Part of Jacobs’s mind didn’t want to believe what he was seeing before him, but as the figure emerged from the tree line, he found it impossible to deny.

The suit and tie stood out among its nearly blackened form, and Jacobs scrambled back further as he saw that the figure was almost levitating towards him. A sharp pain suddenly appeared in his head, and Jacobs cried out as the agony engulfed him. It felt like his skull was splitting open, and as he frantically glanced back at the figure, he saw it stretch an unnaturally large arm in his direction. Numerous tentacles had also spawned from the monsters back, and they too were closing in on him. A distinct ringing began in his ears, growing more and more insufferable as he felt his mind begin to collapse.

Jacobs squeezed his eyes shut and fell backward, but in the next moment, the pain remarkably receded, and a series of gunshots filled the night air. Forcing his eyes open, Jacobs saw the nightmare turn its attention to the source of the noise, and Jacobs followed its sightless gaze to see a figure rapidly approaching them. An automatic rifle of some kind was in its hands, and as it ran, rounds spewed out and sought home in the body of the nightmarish creature, who recoiled but did not fall as the bullets pierced its skin. Where the gunshot wounds opened up, a black mist seemed to spill out, and though the creature did seem bothered by its wounds, it did lash out with its tentacles as the figure came within range.

The figure evaded the tentacles as they struck, ducking and dodging left and right with ease despite the speed and number of appendages the monster attacked with. With its hands now somehow empty, the figure leapt up and grabbed the monster’s featureless face with its left hand, causing the creature to stagger backward from the force of the impact. Tentacles made to grab at the figure as it held on, but the figure paid them no mind, finally sparing a glance to Jacobs as the monster writhed under its iron grip. In the light from his phone, Jacobs could see that the figure was wearing some kind of armored suit with a helmet covering its face, making it seem incredibly intimidating as it overpowered the nightmare in its grasp. As Jacobs looked on in shock, a voice came from within the suit.

“I would recommend vacating this area immediately, as I am only 95% certain of the effectiveness of what we are about to attempt.”

Despite his state, Jacobs struggled to his feet, running back in the direction of the Crown Vic as fast as his legs could carry him. Millions of thoughts raced through his mind as he ran, but one stood out among the others. That man…that suit…he almost looked like a…

…an astronaut. A spaceman.

Jacobs’s eyes widened, and he whirled back around in realization. His eyes met the figure’s gaze once again, but in the next moment, a flash of blue light engulfed both it and the monster. A loud bang sounded from across the landscape, but when the light faded, both the figure and the monster disappeared.

Jacobs looked around frantically to see where they had gone, but the night had fallen still once more. Only he remained. After making sure that he was alone, Jacobs cautiously staggered over to where the monster and figure had stood not moments before. Against the light of his phone, Jacobs saw ash marks streak outward from ground zero, the only evidence that they had been there in the first place. Had they exploded? Reduced to nothing but atoms? Just what the hell had the spaceman attempted? Quickly, Jacobs snapped pictures of the scene with his phone, then hurriedly dialed his chief.

An annoyed and groggy voice answered on the other end of the line, and Jacobs hurriedly explained that he had been in a wreck and needed a response team out here immediately. The chief had quickly come to after that and asked what the hell had happened, but Jacobs stopped himself before he wove the tale. He would need to tell this story in person. He doubted anybody would believe what he saw, but if they did, then this case would likely be transferred beyond the Bureau, likely to some department that Jacobs didn’t even know existed. An agency better equipped to deal with whatever that thing was perhaps. Or perhaps someone who could at least figure out who that guy in the suit was. Whatever it ended up being, it was not Agent Jacobs. He wasn’t sure what it was that he had just witnessed, but this, whatever the hell this was, it was BIG. Of that, he could be sure.

Notes:

A/N: So, what did you think? For this chapter, I found my way back into the straight horror genre once more, and I think I probably have a few other horror stories lined up for future chapters after this one. That being said, remember to leave a review commenting on any aspect of my writing and keeping me posted on whether you liked what you read or felt that it was bad and unnecessary. No matter what, I love hearing from you guys, so please don't hesitate. Until next time!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 31: The VVitch

Notes:

A/N: Alrighty! I'm back in action folks. Once again, I must apologize for the delay when presenting this chapter, as I really have no excuse as to why it's been so long. For this chapter, the Doom Slayer has arrived in the setting of the VVitch, and the the predators of this world are going to quickly become the prey! Enjoy and remember that I own neither of these franchises!

VEGA immediately registered the anomaly as they passed between dimensions once more. He had predicted from the start that attempting to jump with the creature in tow would likely cause some manner of complication, but even he could not be certain as to how the attempt would play out. From what he had already gathered on the monster, it had the ability to traverse dimensions similarly to how the tether system did. The only difference being that the creature’s power in this regard was limited, and it only possessed the capacity to jump to dimensions that were, for lack of a better word, “close” to its own. In this instance, the only dimension close enough to the creature’s original had been an alternate version of Earth, the same Earth in which VEGA and the Doom Slayer had first encountered it. The Slayer had been able to destroy its physical form, but upon doing so, VEGA had received readings from his scanners that indicated some form of dimensional jump had occurred. The monster not been completely destroyed.

After further analysis, VEGA concluded that destroying the creature’s body had triggered a defense mechanism that had returned its consciousness to its “home” dimension, where it likely had the capacity to rebuild itself. Killing it then became more complicated, as the tether system did not have the capacity to make a precise jump to the creature’s home dimension to finish it off. But VEGA had proposed an alternate idea after some consideration.

If they could not enter its domain, perhaps they could wrench it away. Due to the creature’s limited jump capabilities, VEGA hypothesized that if they could force it into a dimension that was relatively isolated from others, then its defense mechanism would be rendered useless, giving it nowhere to go when the Slayer destroyed it again and thereby killing it indefinitely.

The Doom Slayer had agreed to the plan and had waited for the creature to reemerge. Approximately twelve hours after destroying its body, VEGA picked up its signature once again. They then had been able to successfully track and latch onto the creature before jumping once more.

Unfortunately, the tether system had only been calibrated to the Praetor Suit, meaning that warping the creature as well as the Doom Slayer had been an unstable process at best. Under normal circumstances, the transition between dimensions lasted approximately two seconds, but VEGA immediately registered the transition as lasting a total of ten seconds this time, likely due to the added “weight” of the creature. And approximately 2.5 milliseconds before emerging into their next reality, VEGA felt the life readings of the creature disappear, as the tether system had finally been overwhelmed from the additional load and had automatically discarded the excess mass.

The creature had been separated from them.

Running calculations as quickly as possible, VEGA confirmed that despite their separation, the two parties would still arrive in the same universe. The only difference came from their spatial location. A setback, to be certain, as the creature would need to be tracked down once more.

Another setback made itself known shortly after, as the tether system had once again chosen to deposit them above the surface of an alternate Earth. Visual feed showed VEGA that they had arrived in the upper atmosphere of the planet, and after a nearly instantaneous analysis, the A.I. measured that their arrival point had been a little over four thousand kilometers above the surface. Fortunately, the Doom Slayer was capable of surviving such a fall.

A sudden blip in the tether system made itself aware to VEGA, and the A.I. immediately devoted an appropriate amount of processing power towards it. The blip was faint but discernable, and VEGA triangulated its origin as emanating from a point on the planet’s surface below.

It was coming from the creature; VEGA was certain of it. Residual “wash” from the dimensional jump must have still clung to its form, and the tether system in the Praetor Suit was sensitive enough to pick it up. It burned strongly for a brief moment, then disappeared from the readouts, but VEGA had already locked in the location of the source.

“Calculating trajectory now,” VEGA said promptly as the Doom Slayer righted himself in his free fall towards the ground.

“The creature’s location is in this quadrant of North America,” VEGA continued after less than a second of calculation, marking the position on the Slayer’s HUD. “I recommend adjusting our course to intercept.”

The Slayer said nothing as usual, but began arching his body towards the indicated location. As they passed through the atmosphere, VEGA registered the exterior temperature of the Praetor Suit beginning to rise from atmospheric reentry, the combined speed and profile of the Slayer causing the Praetor Suit to glow red and then white with the heat.

The surface of the planet drew nearer, and VEGA noted as details came into view that even though humans likely populated the planet, it was vastly underdeveloped. This indicated primitive technology, and after examining the topography and celestial positioning, VEGA concluded that the timeline of this Earth was nearly the same as their own, but chronologically located about five hundred years in the past.

That meant that on this Earth, the year was between 1600 and 1650, making the region they were falling toward mostly inhabited by Native American tribes and early European settlers. A relatively small populace compared to their usual encounters, but still more than enough lives for the creature to prey upon if given the chance. VEGA voiced his findings to the Doom Slayer.

“The creature will likely seek out any nearby humans to feed upon,” VEGA stated. “Beginning life scans now.”

Time until impact was now exactly one minute, and rudimentary scans came back showing no immediate life forms in the vicinity of their impact point. VEGA attempted to broaden his scans to begin tracking the creature once more, but the Praetor Suit’s systems could only reach so far. He would only be able to fully understand the situation below when they landed.

…

Caleb felt the daggers of fear and desperation sink deep into his being. The woods around him rose unfamiliarly, signaling he was far from the farm, or any recognizable landmark for that matter, and the shade of dusk had just begun its greedy consumption of the lingering light. Shadows stretched their twisted fingers across the ground, almost as if attempting to usurp the lad from his footing. Caleb attempted to shake the thought of such a sinister setting from his head and looked about in the hope of catching a glimpse of Fowler among the foliage. He’d given up on summoning the hound with a whistle, as he had never properly learned from his father, William. Man had always been too preoccupied with tending the farm, which had become an increasingly cumbersome task ever since…

Caleb shook his head and banished his line of thought. He could not dwell on that now, not when lost and alone in these unforgiving woods. With that in mind, he once again began a slow march in what he hoped was the right direction.

Squinting against waning light, Caleb felt his fears grow greater still, and he slowly began a prayer taught to him long ago to recite in times of crisis:

“O God my Lord, I now begin,” Caleb spoke, his voice trembling and quick to reflect his faltering resolve. He gripped the musket tightly in his hands as he continued to walk, the weapon large and unwieldy in his young and inexperienced grasp.

 

“O help me and I'll leave my sin.

For I repentant now will be,

From evil I will turn to thee.

None ever shall destroy my faith,

Nor do I mind what Satan saith.”

 

Caleb paused for a brief moment, then began the prayer once more, the repetition bringing him a small amount of comfort against the unsavory setting.

“O God my Lord, I now begin-”

Caleb’s prayer abruptly stopped as the sound of a pained yowling sounded through the forest. With a deep shiver, Caleb recognized the howling, and he quickened his pace to a run to reach the source. The agonized yelping began to grow weaker, and Caleb grit his teeth and willed his legs to move faster in response. The overly large musket worked against him, however, and the lad’s balance faltered from the uneven weight. An outstretched root caught on his foot, and he tripped and tumbled onto his front, the musket landing beside him with a soft thud. Caleb grunted as he landed, but his annoyance over his fall was immediately forgotten when the noise of pained whimpers reached his ears.

Slowly lifting his gaze from the forest floor, Caleb looked ahead to a sight from his nightmares.

Fowler lay in the brush before him, the hound’s entrails in a bloody display in the grass. It looked as though his stomach had been ripped open by some great beast, and as Caleb’s gaze shifted from surprise to absolute horror, he saw that Fowler’s side still rose and fell with weakened breaths, each exhale accompanied by a pained whimper as the hound expired slowly. For a few moments, Caleb lay frozen, unable to wrench his gaze away from the gore that had formerly been Fowler, and it was only when the hound finally fell still that the lad found the strength to rise once more.

Caleb’s revulsion suddenly caught up with him, and he doubled over and gagged onto the grass, the sight of the wretched corpse enough to cause his stomach deep unrest.

After a few moments of hacking and coughing, Caleb numbingly retrieved the musket from the dirt, looking anywhere but Fowler at the moment. He looked around, desperately trying to find some distinguishable landmark, but he saw nothing, and the brush only seemed to grow thicker around him, leaving no easy route ahead.

In the fading light, Caleb suddenly caught a flash of movement, and his eyes darted over to see a hare enter the nearby bramble. It was the same hare that Caleb had set out to hunt this morning, and without further thought, the lad started after it, his fear driving him to pursue the only thing he recognized in these now nightmarish woods.

Picking his way as best he could through the thorns and jutting branches, Caleb’s breath grew heavier as he battled against the thickening brush. With each step, it seemed to grow thicker still, slowing Caleb’s progress to a crawl as he followed the hare deeper into the woods.

With a final push forward, Caleb emerged from the bramble, his face stinging from the swipes of the overhanging branches. The last light of day was all but gone, and a thick overcast now dominated the sky. All was shaded in a dark and ominous hue, but Caleb’s blood was chilled not at the sight around him, but at the sight before him.

It was not the hare, but a small shack, even though to call it that would have been generous. It was a primitive structure appearing to be built mostly out of plants and mud. The dwelling sat nestled between two trees, and as Caleb looked closer, he saw smoke billowing from a hole in the top of the shack in place of a chimney. This sign of civilization should have been welcoming to the young lad, but the shabby state of the dwelling struck an unsettling tone that Caleb couldn’t quite place. It was as though a small voice in the back of his head was tugging at him, urging him to run as fast and as far away as possible from here. And yet, inexperience and child-like curiosity kept Caleb rooted to the spot, as he had never seen anyone else living in these woods save his family.

Caleb took a tentative step forward, then another. The rotten wood that constituted the door to the shack slowly opened wide as he came closer, but the darkness prevented him from seeing past the threshold. He took another step forward.

From the depths, a beautiful woman stepped forward into view, her ample frame complimented by a bright red cloak draped over a tight bodice. Caleb tried not to stare at her form, but he found himself suddenly unable to look away from the woman, her eyes captivating him in a trance that seemingly nothing could break.

Her eyes bore into his, and Caleb saw her face curl into a smile that beckoned him closer. As if at the mercy of some powerful spell, Caleb complied, taking another step towards the woman as she slowly knelt down, so they were face to face.

The small voice in the back of his head was screaming at him now, frantically crying out to him that he should flee, but Caleb couldn’t have turned away if he had wanted to. The was transfixed on the woman before him and unable to do anything but move closer to her.

Caleb stopped in front of her, and the woman slowly reached a hand out to caress the lad’s cheek. Her fingers were almost too soft as they brushed over his skin, but Caleb could not even spare them a glance, his eyes still firmly locked with the hers. Cupping his face, she slowly began pulling him closer, and Caleb’s heart began to pound in anticipation.

She was so beautiful…

Her skin was so soft…

And her eyes were just so warm…

The woman suddenly jolted and froze. Her eyes shooting open wide, and her hand on Caleb’s face losing its pull.

In the next moment, she wretched, and blood spewed from her mouth out in front of her, much of it landing on Caleb’s face.

Caleb cried out and fell backward onto the ground, the spell over him suddenly broken by the woman’s reaction. He lifted an arm and wiped away the blood from his eyes, and once he could see again, he looked up at her.

She was still frozen in place, and her shocked expression lingered on Caleb for a moment before slowly tilting downward to gaze at her torso. Caleb followed with his own eyes and gasped in horror at what he saw.

From the center of the woman’s chest protruded a thick and vile appendage. It looked as though she had been speared from behind by it, and from where the appendage sprouted, blood and gore blossomed and soiled the bodice.

Had Caleb’s stomach not already been emptied earlier, he would have vomited at the sight of the wound.

Suddenly, the woman began to rise from the ground, her body seemingly beginning to levitate as her feet left the forest floor. She began screaming in agony, her screech unlike any human’s that Caleb had heard before. It pierced his ears and chilled him to the core, sounding almost as though it were some feral beast and not a woman screaming in front of him.

Her appearance began to change as she was lifted higher, her youthful appearance decaying into a haggard shell, as though she was aging by decades every second. The shrill piercing howl grew greater still, only to abruptly end as more blackened appendages appeared and ripped the now decrepit woman’s body in two.

Caleb watched in horror as the pieces of the woman were cast aside, then his blood froze in his veins when he gazed right behind where the woman had just stood.

Standing at over twice the height of a human, a demon loomed over Caleb, its face an expressionless pale mask that honed in the lad. It’s long and slender torso was entirely blackened save for a strange design on its chest, and as Caleb sat frozen in fear for the second time, he saw that the thick appendages from before were sprouting from somewhere on the monster’s back, the end of the tentacles still slick with the woman’s blood.

As the tentacles began to gravitate towards him, Caleb felt a sharp pain abruptly throb inside his skull. At the same time, a distinct ringing in his ears began to grow louder and louder, and Caleb lost sight of the monster as all of his senses betrayed him. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t even think…

Just as his consciousness began to fade, an incredible boom was heard, and the ringing and pain suddenly ceased. Caleb gasped in immediate relief, and though his vision was still blurred, he spotted a bright white light appear from the darkening background. Its luminous form took the shape of a humanoid, though Caleb could not make out the details of the blazing figure as it began to do battle with the monstrosity.

O Holy God…

Caleb’s mind barely formulated a prayer as his vision grew dark.

Thou hast sent thy holy legion…thy angels of above…

It was an angel. Caleb was certain of it. Its luminescence began overpowering the creature of darkness, and the last thing Caleb remembered before the he slipped into unconsciousness was the sight of the angel striking down the demon with its holy fist, showing no mercy as it disposed of the unholy wretch.

My Lord…thou hast found me blessed…for all of my thanks…know that I am thine…

…

The Doom Slayer’s rage overwhelmed the monster, the white-hot heat from his armor on par with the fire that burned within him. The slender beast lashed out in desperation, but even it knew that there was only one possible outcome. The Slayer had proven himself unstoppable, already banishing the creature once before with ease. At that time, the monster had been able to escape, had been able to flee to where he could not follow. But the Slayer’s determination had been underestimated, and now there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and certainly no way to fight.

One of them was going to fall, and it was only now that the slender monster finally understood. It could see from its sightless eyes the unyielding force that hunted it, the unwavering creature that demanded its damnation. There were no options left, the only thing it could do was—

The slender creature’s featureless head then exploded, as the Doom Slayer had found opportunity in its falter and had emptied a round from the super shotgun into its skull in the time it had taken to blink. The slender creature’s now headless form froze for a moment, then slumped onto the forest floor, its essence this time dying with it.

“Termination successful,” VEGA reported. “Its life force has been extinguished.”

The Doom Slayer said nothing, his armor finally beginning to cool and darken once more. He looked upon the fallen monster for a brief moment before reaching down and ripping its torso in half for good measure. It had angered him greatly when he had failed to kill it before, so he would leave nothing to chance this time.

The Slayer then turned his attention to the corpse of the woman that the slender monster had killed. The woman’s form was incredibly aged, yet his P.K.E. scanner showed that she possessed some sort of supernatural vitality even in death. The slender creature had been far stronger than her, but the Slayer’s interest was still piqued, and he looked from the body to the small shack made of earth.

“This was likely her abode,” VEGA confirmed. “I believe we will find more information about her anomalous state by inspecting the interior.

The Slayer agreed with a nod. A once over of the boy told him that the child was alright, so he hefted the unconscious lad over his shoulder and approached the small shack. The Praetor Suit’s exterior temperature had returned to normal, so there was no worry of burning the child in his grasp.

Entering the dwelling, the Slayer immediately focused on a large mortar standing in the corner of the room, as the wooden basin was completely stained in dried blood. A large wooden club leaned against the wall adjacent to the mortar, its rounded end also encrusted with similar fluids. This alone was enough to damn the woman in the Slayer’s eyes, and the scene in the rest of the dwelling only served to reinforce his conclusion.

Unholy sights were scattered about the place, from bloodied knives to skulls from both man and beast stacked in a pile in the corner. In the center of the room sat a stone slab, an encircled pentagram drawn upon it with dried blood. The hellish ink used to paint the pentagram had likely been obtained from the mortar and pestle in the corner.

“These items as well as the markings on the floor are indicative of a disciple of Wicca,” VEGA stated. The Slayer had already drawn similar conclusions about the woman.

“The sight of this abode as well as the readings from the corpse outside support the theory that the woman was a successful practitioner of these arts.”

The Slayer nodded in agreement.

She had been a witch.

At the thought, the Slayer’s rage began to boil over once more. Though his knowledge of these monsters was limited, he was aware of the nature of their practices. The skulls in the corner were her victims, and their dried blood was on the floor and in the basin in the corner. Had he not been carrying the child on his shoulder, the Doom Slayer would have razed this place and hunted all others nearby at once, his anger stemming largely from the sight of the skulls in the corner. It was not just the fact that they were human skulls, it was that they all possessed one sickening trait, a trait that VEGA had not realized yet.

“A common practice in witchcraft is that of sacrifice,” the A.I. continued, voicing his path of logic aloud. “But the victim must be unbaptized.”

The Slayer clenched his hand that wasn’t holding the boy, his eyes focusing on the pile of skulls stacked in the room. VEGA was quickly coming to the same realization that he had.

“The human skulls in the corner…” VEGA mused. There was suddenly a pause, which almost never came from VEGA, but it told the Slayer that the A.I. had uncovered the sickening truth.

“None of the skulls are of adults…Furthermore, size analysis indicates that none of them could have come from a human over ten years of age…”

The weight of the scene then settled on the A.I., and only after a few moments did VEGA break the silence.

“I detect similar life signatures nearby,” the A.I. stated. “I suggest terminating them as soon as possible.”

To anyone but the Slayer, his metallic voice would have sounded normal, but the Slayer had listened to the A.I. long enough to know that something was different. His pacing had been off, almost rushed even, as though VEGA had been eager to finish the sentence in order to incite action more quickly. It was indicative to the Slayer, not of an emotion, as it had barely been there in the first place, but the beginnings of one, and it had not been the first time.

It had first come to the Slayer’s notice shortly after they had departed from the Forward Unto Dawn. VEGA had begun showing signs of change after bidding farewell to that other A.I., change such as focusing on things that did not necessarily pertain to the task at hand. At times, VEGA had begun to focus on subjects that he had deemed “interesting” or “unorthodox”. It was not a large step from the natural drive of all A.I. to uncover knowledge, but it was distinctly different, as VEGA had specifically been learning more of things that pertained to human consciousness.

The A.I. had been trying to learn more about what it meant to be human.

As to whether that would turn out to be a good thing or not, the Doom Slayer had yet to see. It was no secret to him that personality development had the capacity to irreparably corrupt certain intelligences, which created the possibility of VEGA turning against him in the future. Such an outcome was regrettable, as the A.I. had proven himself invaluable since their reunion, and the Slayer viewed him now as a comrade rather than just an instrument to further his goals. To lose VEGA would be more than a loss of good equipment, but the Slayer was always prepared for the possibility, as those that considered themselves an ally of the Doom Slayer tended not to survive long.

And the twinge just now, the barely noticeable blip that VEGA had just displayed, it was the root of an emotion that the Slayer knew all too well. What VEGA was in reaction of only served to solidify his conclusion.

VEGA was pissed.

“The child’s dwelling is nearby,” the intelligence remarked, his tone and pace back to normal as though nothing had occurred.  “I recommend returning him before disposing of the remaining witches.”

As usual, the two of them were in agreement. However, the Slayer’s work was not yet finished here.

After propping the boy’s slumped form against a nearby tree, the Doom Slayer unceremoniously retrieved the two halves of the witch’s corpse, his P.K.E. scanner still showing telltale signs of life within the carrion. This left the possibility of resurrection, and the Slayer had experienced more than enough of that from his enemies now to practice the art of the “double-tap”. Throwing the two halves of the witch into the dark confines of the shack, the Doom Slayer produced his plasma rifle, and with a few practiced shots to the dried plants that were the constitution of the dwelling, the whole shack was soon engulfed in flame, everything inside burning with high intensity. Satisfied with the blaze, the Slayer turned on his heel and exited the hellhole, but not before cracking the stone slab in the center with an armored stomp.

And now, the child must be returned to safety, but immediately after that…

…the hunt began.

…

It had been perfect. They had been perfect. Every single one of them together had sown the seeds of discord long before Black Phillip had even set his sights upon them, but it had been the father, William, that had made it all too easy. His pride had blinded him, casting both himself and his family from the protection of their settlement and into Black Phillip’s domain. And with their parting, they had all but given their lives to Phillip on a silver platter.

The wife, Katherine. Her loyalty to her husband was strong, but she had long lamented their departure from their homeland, and it was only her love for her children that had kept her strong.

An admirable foundation…

…and yet so easily toppled.

And topple it, Black Phillip did. Not long after settling in the wilderness did Katherine give birth. A young, healthy baby boy with the eyes of his mother and the face of his father. Samuel, they’d named him, and Katherine’s capacity for love had grown tenfold when she had first laid eyes on the boy. He had been so beautiful…so happy…

…so unbaptized.

And so, it was with ease that Black Phillip had summoned his ilk, his disciples, his daughters of darkness, to make away with the baby and sacrifice him in Phillip’s unheavenly name. There had been but one condition, and it was that Samuel would be taken while under the watch of Thomasin, the eldest child.

For it was truly Thomasin that was the prize to be won in the end. The girl was at the age when her womanhood began to take form, making her more than ripe for indoctrination into Black Phillip’s coven. Preying and feeding on God’s flock was always a pleasure, but to take one and make it his own, that was where Black Phillip’s true passion lied. Just as he had been barred from the kingdom above, so would he lead others astray and into his open arms, denying their creator the satisfaction of seeing them return.

And now, he was so close. He could feel it, with both Samuel and now Caleb taken from them, the family had unknowingly ostracized Thomasin from the fold, and all that remained was to dispose of the rest.

No…

Something was wrong.

Black Phillip could feel it on the wind. Caleb was supposed to be taken. A dark daughter was to captivate him by preying on his growing attractions, and yet, he was getting closer. In the form of a goat, Black Phillip raised his head and gazed to the tree line.

Yes, there was no mistaking it now. Caleb was returning to the farm, completely unharmed. And heralding his return was an aura of something incredibly powerful, something unknown, and yet, eerily familiar to Black Phillip’s senses. Its incorruptible form was not yet in sight, but Black Phillip knew that it was strong enough to see through his disguise, and so he turned away into the woods, as he could not drive off this new arrival without revealing his true nature to the family. He would deal with this creature, but in due time.

…

VEGA immediately noted a powerful signature disappearing into the forest as they cleared the tree line. The readings indicated a being far stronger than the witches that he had been tracking, and upon further analysis, VEGA noted that their life signs were actually similar to each other, a subject that he devoted some of his processing power to exploring further.

Simultaneously, the A.I. examined the farm that came into view. A small field of corn grew next to a ramshackle farmhouse, and VEGA’s scans discerned residual signs of the supernatural from the corn, as though it had been tampered with. The stalks looked malnourished and weak, and VEGA hypothesized that the lingering wisps of energy had something to do with the rot that plagued them.

As the Slayer drew closer with the boy over his shoulder, the door to the farmhouse opened wide, and a tall man and what was presumably his wife emerged, their faces wary yet hopeful as the Slayer approached them.

In addition to the couple, VEGA took note of three more individuals peeking out from the doorway. A pair of young children and one older girl, likely in her late teenage years, stared wide-eyed at the Slayer’s armored figure.

Their clothing was congruent with the time period that VEGA had deduced, and though recognition dawned on their faces at the form slumped over the Slayer’s shoulder, they were wary to approach. A reaction that VEGA considered appropriate, as they likely did not know what to make of the Slayer’s otherworldly appearance.

It was only when the Slayer reached them and deposited the unconscious child into their arms that their eyes left his strange form.

“Caleb? Caleb?!” the woman frantically asked, grasping the sides of the boy’s face in the hope of waking him. Bloodstains stood prominently upon his face and clothing, causing both parents to panic for a moment.

The man searched Caleb for any sign of injury but found none. After a sigh of relief, his gaze then turned to the Slayer, a frown of distrust now in the place of shock.

“What transpired? What hast befallen my son?!” he asked in what VEGA noted as an old English dialect.

VEGA recalled the events of how they had found the child to the two of them, and the mother and father’s eyes widened in horror at the mention of the witch they had encountered.

“Tis witchcraft what ails him?!” the woman all but wailed, her words causing clear unrest to the children listening in the doorway.

“He is unharmed,” VEGA assured them. “He will likely awaken soon.”

“Oh William!” the woman cried, looking to her husband for answers. “What will we do?! This land has left us accursed!”

“If I may,” VEGA said calmly. “I would recommend that you hunker down indoors until morning, as it will be safe then.”

“And how so?” William asked. His eyes searching for any sense of humanity behind the Slayer’s faceplate. “Wouldst you have us forever hunkered like feebled mice every night in the hope that witches do not away with our children before dawn?”

“By morning, I am confident that there will be no witches remaining to do so, as we will likely have exterminated them all by then.”

VEGA’s blunt answer caught them both off guard, but William’s eyes still showed hints of distrust.

“And just what assurance canst you provide to aid such fanciful claims?”

VEGA did not respond, as he knew the Doom Slayer was much more fit to answer that question.

Moving to the wood pile where the chopping block sat, the Doom Slayer hefted a large log in one hand with ease. VEGA estimated the weight of the log at no less than thirty kilograms, though it looked as though it was made of paper in the Slayer’s ease of grip. And as the family watched, the armored man grasped the log in both hands and ripped it in two down the middle with a loud crack, the wood almost too eagerly yielding to his strength.

The family stood in awe for a moment, frozen at the Slayer’s feat. Then William spoke in a low voice and gently handed Caleb’s form to Katherine.

“Inside, Katherine. Take the children with thee.”

She looked at him questioningly, but William urged her with a hard glare, and she quickly turned to the farmhouse, ushering the children inside and closing the door behind her.

The clearing fell silent in the dark, and William gave the Doom Slayer a long and hard look before speaking.

“I know not the nature of your fortitude,” he said with a continuing air of suspicion. “You have returned mine own flesh and blood to me, but how wouldst I be certain that I be not in the devil’s present company?”

VEGA understood the man’s reasoning. Seeing something as mysterious and powerful as the Doom Slayer in a time period such as this…The heightened superstitions of the era made satanic ties an easy explanation so the otherwise unexplainable. The man’s spiritual fortitude had already been shaken by the mere presence of the Slayer, and basic human psychology stated that it was natural for him to double down on his beliefs.

“I am afraid that we do not have time to explain our nature to you,” VEGA said courteously. “But to answer your question in short: You cannot. I can offer no reassurance that we are your allies, but your trust in us is not necessary to the success of our mission.”

The answer did little to put William at ease, as VEGA anticipated, but he continued all the same.

“Regardless of your disposition, it still remains in your best interest to stay inside and protect your family until morning comes.”

William gave a small grunt, but relented, walking back towards the farmhouse while keeping an eye on the Doom Slayer the whole time. The Slayer leveled his gaze as well until the door latched shut behind the man, then turned back towards the forest. The interior temperature of the Praetor Suit began to rise once more with anticipation, and VEGA immediately began to provide directions, as he had already homed in on at least three signatures nearby.

“I have marked the location of the closest witches on your HUD. I believe they are aware of our presence.”

The life signs had grown more erratic since VEGA had first begun tracking them, signifying some sort of unrest likely tied to the arrival of the Slayer.

That mattered little however, and as the Slayer started into the woods, the signature metallic crunch of a shotgun being pumped echoed through the trees.

…

Thomasin gingerly dabbed at Caleb’s face with a dampened cloth, her eyes telling of her concern for her brother’s health. At least the lad looked at peace in this state. Jonas and Mercy sat nearby, the twins periodically looking from Caleb’s sleeping form to Thomasin and back again, their childlike curiosity piqued. The elder girl could not blame them, as she too had seen many unexplainable things over the past hour.

At the very least, the two youngest no longer seemed convinced that Thomasin was a witch, as the arrival of the strange man had faltered their misplaced convictions.

Who was that man? That strange being in strange attire that appeared from the woods with Caleb in arm? His strange voice that spoke like hollow metal and leveled such a strange tongue? And his tales of finding Caleb in the clutches of a witch?! Couldst there be truth to his words? Be there truly witches what resided in this forest?

Unbidden, Thomasin’s thoughts drifted to that of Samuel, and how the baby had been taken from them as if by magic. Couldst it really be witchcraft what saw him away?

Thomasin looked over to her parents, who spoke in rapid albeit hushed tones in the corner. Despite their efforts to secrecy, Thomasin heard the nature of their conversation as though it were whispered to her ear:

“Witches, William! Witches!! Dost thou disbelieve now that this land is cursed?”

“Peace, Katherine, lest the children hear thee!”

“Just what is to left hide, William? God himself heard what how Caleb was found!”

“We know not the truth of the man’s nature, Katherine, lest he be in league with Satan.”

“It matters not, William! Cursed by witches or by the devil? Are we just to settle with the lesser of the two?!”

“We must wait, hold until morning, Katherine. With the coming dawn’s light, so too will answers find us.”

“And if we are not to survive until then?!”

“Peace!”

Suddenly, Caleb’s form stirred, his head shifting ever so slightly on the pillow and a soft mumble escaping from his mouth. Both Katherine and William snapped their heads to him at that moment, the well-being of their son overriding the conversation in a heartbeat.

“Caleb!”

The boy slowly opened his eyes and took in a breath before immediately having a small coughing fit.

“Steady now…” Thomasin urged softly as she propped his head up on her lap and held a cup of water to his lips. “Drink slowly.”

Caleb croaked once before sipping lightly on the cool liquid, his breathing slowly returning to a more relaxed pace.

“Caleb…”

Both Katherine and William knelt close as he took in his surroundings, and he visibly relaxed when he saw that he was back at the farmhouse. Both Katherine and William gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Art thou well? Prithee tell us what transpired?”

“I… we…” Caleb’s eyes darted to Thomasin, and she sensed his apprehension to tell of why they’d ventured to the wood.

“We went thither to the wood,” she said, knowing the shame that Caleb likely felt. “Caleb wished imbue pride upon ye both by way of fresh game, but we two were separated when chasing after a hare. I was knocked unconscious and awoke to the sound of thee calling my name, father.”

Both William and Katherine gazed at her, processing her tale in silence. Thomasin took a breath.

“Tis all I know—”

“The hare…”

All eyes turned to Caleb as he spoke up, silence holding fast in the farmhouse.

“I tracked it deeper, but something…some creature…darker than the Devil…it…Fowler…”

Tears began to well up in Caleb’s eyes, the memory obviously traumatizing him a great deal. His hands clenched at his sides, and Thomasin gently stroked his hair in an effort to calm him. He waited for a few moments, then spoke more once he had his breathing under control.

“A woman was thither also, feigning youth before my eyes. The horrid monster…it…”

Caleb shook his head refusing to elaborate further, but there was no need too, the others understood what he left unsaid.

“But then,” Caleb said, his posture suddenly straightening at a new memory. “I found myself saved. Twas divine intervention what held back the dark! An angel of God adorned in white brilliance drove it away! The beast was rended to dust by His will!”

Thomasin shared a glance with her parents, then turned back to Caleb.

“Dost thou know who found thee, Caleb? How thou wast returned hither?”

“No…I…remember naught past that…” Caleb said. At his side, William frowned.

“This angel, Caleb. Didst thou gaze upon its face? What canst thou say to its form?”

“Naught but its divine glow,” Caleb replied with a shake of his head. “It bore itself in man’s image, but I could see no more than its divine brilliance.”

“And the vile creature of the abyss? What became of it?”

“The divine herald overwhelmed it!” Caleb said with the excitement that came with telling such a story. “The angel’s strength exceeded that of ten men! There be no greater sight to behold!”

William and Katherine looked at each other contemplatively for a moment, and though not a word was said, Thomasin knew their thoughts.

This divine angel that Caleb spoke of… and the man what delivered him here…perhaps they were not separate…?

Caleb seemed to notice the frowns on their faces.

“What? What is it?” he asked curiously.

“We’ve met your angel, Caleb!” Mercy spoke up for the first time, jumping up from where she sat next to Jonas. “But he bore no white brilliance, only a scary green suit!”

“Tell no untruths, Mercy,” Katherine scorned. “We know it not if they be one in the same.”

“They are!” Jonas said, jumping up enthusiastically with his twin. “Didst thou not hear his story? The strength of ten men! Tis the same for the strange form what came hither!”

“Peace, the both!” William said. The twins obeyed and fell silent, but Thomasin could tell that even their father was uncertain as well. Caleb’s description of the angel’s strength, it matched that of the stranger whence he had torn the log with naught but his gauntlets. And if he now was hunting the witches that plagued this wood…

…may Christ see it fit that they are shown mercy in death, as it was certain they would not be given it in life.

…

The witch’s screeching was swiftly stifled as the Slayer’s boot crushed her head, her body falling still save for a few slight twitches. That had been the fourth now, with her being the quickest kill of the night so far. The Doom Slayer was learning their methods and the extent of their power at a rate only he could achieve, and he was becoming more and more efficient at hunting them as a result. Their speed and agility exceeded that of any human by far, but it mattered not. The Slayer was stronger and faster, yes, but these witches lacked experience. Their methods were not suited to attacking an enemy that knew they were there, making their moves predictable and also making them hesitate. And to hesitate in battle meant death, with the four dead witches up to this point acting as a shining example.

As with all the others, the Slayer quickly found her dwelling and deposited her corpse inside before setting it ablaze. The headless corpse writhed as the flames melted her skin and bleached her bones, but like her sisters, she fell still after a few moments. The Slayer watched this occur, then turned his attention to the forest once more.

“My sensors indicate that there are two witches remaining,” VEGA reported. “The stronger force from before is also nearby. At the current moment, the two remaining witches appear to be fleeing. I would suggest cutting off their retreat.”

The Slayer agreed, raising his plasma rifle and taking aim at a few very flammable-looking trees.

…

Black Phillip felt the souls of his coven depart the mortal realm as they died, each one making its way to the pit that awaited all that pledged themselves to him. Their purpose on Earth was now complete, but Phillip would make good use of them in the time to come.

But for now, he must deal with the contender that was causing those souls to depart. Whatever it was, it had proven itself relentless in its crusade, and had slaughtered all but two of his daughters in this wood. Each of them had been acquired by Phillip through careful planning and deception, and yet this meddler was disposing of them all in under the course of an hour. It was time to put an end to this obtrusion, and now that the family was not near, Phillip could do what needed to be done.

The wind shifted as Phillip began to discard the façade of a common goat. He rose from four legs to two, his bottom half keeping its goatly appearance while the upper body morphed into that of an endowed man. His body grew larger as it changed, soon towering over that of a mere human and growing further still. Two hooves remained in the place of feet, though they had grown beyond the hoof size of any animal on Earth. The horns remained as well, though they had grown in proportion with everything else, and a second set now also protruded from Phillip’s now beast-like forehead. Though most of his upper appearance took on that of a man, his skin turned into a deep red hue, marking the end of his transformation into his true form. Standing in his massive and greatly destructive glory, Black Phillip unleashed a guttural roar that echoed throughout the trees and caused the ground to nearly shake in response.

…

The Slayer heard the roar reverberate through the woods around him as the final witch choked within his grasp. For a moment, his prey was monetarily forgotten, and he turned his heard towards the sound to listen. Nothing followed, so the Slayer quickly dispatched the witch and tossed her into the blaze, which had grown into a considerable forest fire since he had started it. The blaze had served its purpose well, cutting the witches off from their escape route and back into the Slayer’s clutches, and he had made short work of them as a result.

Inside his helmet, VEGA spoke once more.

“The stronger force from before is approaching from the north. It appears to be unperturbed by the heat.”

VEGA was correct, as the fire raged forcefully in the north, and yet over the roar of the blaze, the sounds of trees and brush being crushed underfoot could be heard, crescendoing louder and louder. The noise peaked as a massive beast burst from the enflamed trees, its hulking form standing at nearly five meters tall. Immediately, both VEGA and the Slayer classified it as a demon, as its lower body was that of a goat while everything above the waist was that of a man. The only exception was its head, as the face of the dark beast angrily sized them up. Rows of sharpened teeth bore themselves to the Slayer, and two sets of twisted horns sprouted towards the air above. Jet-black eyes lingered on the Slayer’ form, and suddenly, recognition mixed with a small amount of apprehension dawned on the monster’s face.

“It can’t be…You’ve never departed from the seventh circle before…”

Its voice was deep and layered with the sounds of evil, and a lesser man would have collapsed to the ground at the mere tone of it and pleaded for mercy, but the Slayer said nothing, only cracking his knuckles as the demon continued to speak.

“There were whispers of your absence. And yet here now you stand in a realm far beyond your own…”

The demon growled; the sound akin to that of concrete grinding against itself.

“No matter. The denizens of the Umbral Plains are weak. I am not. Your struggle ends here, Slayer.”

As though a switch had been flipped, the Slayer was suddenly airborne, closing the distance between them and firing a volley of rounds from his assault rifle. The demon reacted and covered itself with its massive arms, the rounds sparking as they failed to pierce its hardened skin.

With impressive speed, the demon lunged, striking with a massive fist at the still airborne Slayer, who crossed his arms in front of himself to absorb the blow. The first connected hard, and the Slayer’s form shot backward, completely shattering through the trunks of trees unfortunate enough to be in the way.

The demon was powerful, possessing the strength of the brutal tyrants that the Slayer knew while still possessing otherworldly speed and agility. Its hardened skin was also an obstacle, but one the Slayer intended to remove.

Twisting in midair, the Slayer drew his gauss cannon and fired a round in the direction of his flight. The recoil from the weapon slowed him considerably, and he landed squarely on his feet and skidded to a stop. He had flown far enough that the forest fire obstructed his view of the demon, but its vitals still registered on his P.K.E. scanner. VEGA spoke up.

“This demon does not match any species found within my database, and yet, it appears to be familiar with you. I believe it may be unique, or perhaps from a region of Hell yet undiscovered.”

Unique or not, the Slayer’s plan remained the same.

…

Black Phillip’s demonic features twisted into a vile grin as the Slayer had yet to remerge from the flames. His strike had been clean and powerful, and the Slayer’s small frame and mass had put up little resistance.

This was the creature that had scoured the realm of the Umbral Lords for so long? Phillip released a foul chuckle, the sound like that of a rockslide. That specific realm of Hell was long considered nigh unconquerable, as the horde that populated those lands was vast and plenty. To establish dominion was an impossible challenge that the wicked lords of other realms dared not attempt. Phillip himself held dominion over a realm of his own, but it was small and weak in fortitude when compared to that of the Umbral Plains. And yet, there were always whispers of the entity that became known as the Doom Slayer. Testament from couriers betwixt realms revealed his profile and nature to those unfamiliar, but he quickly was dismissed as a myth among those who heard the tale, for nothing, and certainly no one creature, could plague a realm so unforgiving as the Umbral Plains.

These tales were certainly falsehoods, as Black Phillip could see now that the Slayer was indeed weak. Had he been killed just now by that single blow? Phillip chuckled once more at the thought, his demonic maw curling into a sneer. Perhaps the Umbral Plains were not such an unattainable prize after all. If their dark lords were wrought with strife by the hand of such a weak and feeble creature, then perhaps Phillip would see fit to—

A bright red beam of light burst from the flames and struck Phillip directly on his left shoulder, and he roared from the force behind the impact and the pain that it delivered. Looking down, Phillip saw a rod of hardened metal buried halfway into his flesh. It had carried enough momentum to pierce his hardened skin, but it was the sight of the immediate area around it that filled the demon with terror.

His hardened skin had begun to decay, an orangish-red glow spreading outward from where the rod was buried and turning the carapace to a fine ash. Phillip bellowed and wrenched the rod from his shoulder, but the decay continued, only slowing to a stop once most of his shoulder and upper arm were afflicted. The skin was all but gone, showcasing the soft and vulnerable tissue beneath.

Phillip’s gaze lingered on the wound, horror turning to rage as he snarled and looked to the source of the shot. From the wall of fire before him, the Slayer emerged, completely unharmed and now inexplicably angry. An unfamiliar weapon sat ready in his hands, and Black Phillip’s eyes narrowed.

“Dogged charlatan,” he spat. “Your fate is sealed.”

His voice was cut off as the weapon kicked in the Slayer’s hands, its aim directly on Phillip’s forehead. The demon had been able to save himself from certain death by dodging to the side, but the red beam grazed the left side of his face as he jerked, shattering a few of his grotesque teeth and cracking the skin. As with before, decay began to spread, and Phillip bellowed in pain as it began to consume his face and head. The eye closest to the wound began to gray, and Phillip lost sight in it a moment later. It was only then that Black Phillip realized the mistake he had made. He had underestimated the power the Slayer controlled and had chided him on his weakness. And now he would pay dearly for it. What was done was done, and there was now no going back from inducing the Slayer’s wrath.

Desperation sinking in, Phillip turned and fled, crashing through the burning foliage haphazardly in an attempt to put as much distance as he could between himself and the Slayer. The side of his face continued to burn, and Phillip raised a clawed hand to his maw in an attempt to stop the spread of the decay. He needed to get out, to survive, to escape somehow. Knowing what was pursuing him, however, that flicker of hope was quickly dwindling.

…

Thomasin could see the glow of the forest fire through the window of the farmhouse. It had not grown close enough to threaten the farmhouse yet, but William maintained watch at the window lest he be needed to battle the blaze with pail in hand.

Caleb had quickly regained his strength after waking, and Katherine currently held him close by the fire in the hearth. Jonas and Mercy sat close by as well. Thomasin could see the fear in her mother’s eyes, in all of their eyes. The prospect of their farm being plagued of a witch had finally been given the chance to settle in all of their minds, and Thomasin’s own thoughts leveled on thing in particular.

It had been a witch all along what stole Samuel. She’d not taken her eyes away from him for longer than a few seconds, and yet he’d vanished without a trace in that short time. There was no wolf on Earth capable of stealing him so soundly, which left but one thing that could have accomplished it.

For so long had Thomasin felt the shame of Samuel’s disappearance. It had been as though a wedge had been driven between her and the family since that day, as much as they would deny it, she knew they couldn’t help but be wary of her. It tore her apart to witness, and she had even begun to hate herself as well as a result. As to be expected, the worst had come from her own mother, as a dark shade had yet to leave Katherine’s eye since Samuel had been taken.

With a brief glance, Thomasin looked to Katherine holding Caleb close, and her mother lifted her gaze to her as well, and after a brief moment of contemplation, Katherine turned to Caleb.

“Art thou well, Caleb? Canst thou stand?”

Caleb nodded resolutely, and slowly rose to his feet from his mother’s lap. He stood shakily for a moment, then regained his equilibrium and walked over to join William at the window, his pace becoming more confident with every stride. William nodded in greeting and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder as they watched the blaze from the window. The smell of smoke had become strong now, for the farmhouse had no glass in the windows.

“Thomasin, come hither.”

The girl looked back to her mother and saw her holding her arms outward in a show of warmth that Thomasin had not received from her in a long time. She slowly rose from where she sat, her movements careful and deliberate, as though one false move would banish the warmth her mother was giving.

Katherine reached up and took Thomasin’s hands in her own, holding them in a firm and honest grip.

“I would beg thy forgiveness, child,” Katherine said, her voice wavering and her eyes filling with tears. “For too long I’d misplaced my grievances. I did let the Devil in me and shot my anger towards thee unjustly. I’d been a fool to believe that thou…”

Katherine bit her lip, pausing for a brief moment to compose herself. All was silent in the farmhouse save for the distant fire, but Thomasin didn’t care that the others heard, she hung tightly to every word that Katherine said. The healing of her spirit from her mother’s confession far exceeded that of any medicine.

“I know not that we will see the sun rise in the morn, but thou must know that I love thee and wilt forever until the end of days. Thou have given naught but all thy love to me, and I will no longer cast it aside like the wretch I have been!”

Katherine’s resolve then broke, and she bowed her head and wept with her hands still clinging to Thomasin’s. It was all the girl could take as well, and she collapsed to her mother’s level, wrapping her arms tightly around Katherine, who grasped at her in return.

It mattered not should a witch or devil take them now, for Thomasin was at last at peace. Her mother’s love had been returned to her, and she felt tears beginning to form in her eyes as well as the world began to right itself once more.

The moment ended quickly, however, as a thunderous boom sounded from outside. Thomasin shared a gaze with her mother, then they both turned to William and Caleb, who were now staring intently out the window. Carefully, the family congregated at the portal, the fire’s haze now very close and illuminating everything in its hellacious glow.

…

Black Phillip could no longer see where he was going, as the decay had completely consumed his left eye and partially destroyed his right. All that was left of his vision was a blurred haze of red and orange as he crashed through the trees. Wounds peppered his form, most incurred on his back as the Doom Slayer had continued to fire upon him as he fled. The pain coursed through Black Phillip’s form, but he did not dare slow down. He had to keep running. He had to survive.

Something exploded against his back, and Phillip bellowed in pain and tumbled to the ground. He landed hard on the forest floor, and pain anew shot through his demonic form as the dirt harshly met his wounds.

He struggled to stand, to crawl, to do anything, but he could not move. His back had been broken, and any attempts he made to rise were in vain. He roared and snarled, but it mattered not. Through his blurred vision, Black Phillip saw a silhouette appear through the fog, walking with predatory intent.

This was the end. Black Phillip knew it to be true. The form reached him quickly and stood over his prone figure, a new weapon of unknown make pointing down at the spot between his eyes. Through ragged breaths, Black Phillip growled and spoke.

“You are finite. You are cursed. Mark my words, Slayer, you cannot keep the path you have chosen forever. Someday, you will meet your end, and your soul will be cast to the darkest and most vile pits, never to—”

Black Phillip’s head exploded in a bloody scourge, his demonic form going limp in the dirt. All fell silent save for the roaring of the fire all around, then the Doom Slayer lowered his super shotgun.

Looking up, he saw that Black Phillip had unknowingly fled back to the farmhouse. They had not arrived in the clearing just yet, however, leaving both him and the now headless demon obstructed from the family’s view.

“That marks the successful termination of all known supernatural beings in the area,” VEGA confirmed inside his helmet. “I would recommend disposing of the corpse, however, as the sight may prove too much for the family to fully comprehend.”

The Slayer stood silent for a moment, then reached down and plucked a fragment of Black Phillip’s horn from the corpse. Tucking it away, the armored man then hefted the demon’s body into the nearest blaze, watching intently as the evidence of their encounter burned away. He then turned and walked back into the clearing, the entire family watching him approach from the window of the farmhouse.

…

Thomasin anxiously dismounted the cart as they arrived at the walls of the plantation. She recognized some familiar faces from the top of the wall, and they in turn looked down upon the family with curiosity.

The armored man had emerged from the forest last night, the telltale signs of battle showing on his armor, and yet he was somehow completely unharmed. His hollow voice had informed that all witches were dead and burned. The family had little time to feel relief at the news, however, as they were then informed that a demon had been slaughtered as well. The armored man produced a wicked horn to prove of its nature, its size and constitution far to great and vile to be of anything but a creature of Hell.

The mention of the demon struck panic throughout the household, and it was then that William had made a resolute decision. They would return to the plantation as soon as possible, and he would swallow his pride and beg for forgiveness from the council, stating that he’d crawl on his knees a million times before them before he’d let his family stay in these accursed woods. The family had been surprised by his sudden change of heart, but the thought alone that he had brought them to this demon-filled land from the beginning had been more than enough cause for his remorse.

The journey would be difficult, as the plantation was a journey of three days’ time by foot, and they would be burdened by the load of their things. It was then that the armored man offered to assist, and by dawn, the family had loaded the cart and struck off for the plantation with the armored man pulling them along with his herculean strength.

With horse, the journey was shortened roughly to that of a day and a half, but the armored man did not tire nor need refreshment, and so they rode hard through most of the day and had arrived back at the plantation by dusk.

A quick word to the militiamen on the wall bid them fetch the council, and while they awaited word, William turned to the armored man.

“I know not who you are, or from whence you came,” William said, holding forth his hand to the man. “but I would shudder to think what foul discord would befall us without your aid. You hath saved my family, and there is no measure as to the vastness of my gratitude.”

The strange man said nothing but took William’s outstretched hand and shook it firmly. They shared a nod, then the stranger turned and marched back into the wood, leaving the family behind.

Thomasin watched as he took his leave, a genuine smile making its way onto her face for what had seemed like forever. Perhaps that man really was an angel. He did not appear robed with wings of light, but all of his deeds, he may as well have been.

As the gates opened to the settlement to allow them entrance, Thomasin looked over her shoulder one last time in the hope of catching a glimpse of the stranger before he entered the tree line. Disappointedly, she saw nothing save for the wilderness that had tormented her family for so long, though as she turned back, her eye caught a faint flash of blue light among the trees. She followed in the hope of seeing what had caused the flash, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared.

Notes:

A/N: What did you folks think? I obviously cannot speak to your reactions, but I must say that writing this chapter felt weirdly off somehow. I cannot tell if that is good or bad, but as I wrote this chapter and the interactions between the characters, it just felt really...different. It could be that I took a bit of literary liberty with Black Phillip's origin, or it could be that I cannot write Old English dialogue if my life depended it, I'm just not sure. That being said, I'm always interested to hear the reader's perspective, and would love any praise, ridicule, or indifference to how the chapter turned out. I have already got the next chapter in the works, so hopefully I can pump it out in a timely manner for you all in the upcoming weeks! Until next time!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 32: I Am Mother

Notes:

A/N: Hey ho! Back with more! This time, our dynamic duo has found themselves in the cinematic world of "I Am Mother", and they might have a slight disagreement with the manner in which she parents! For those of you that like to familiarize yourself with the material before reading the chapter, you will be able to find this movie on Netflix, or I believe it is on the internet as well. If not, no problem! Enjoy and remember that I own nothing!

Mother.

Such a fitting name. For what better title to give something that was to assist and guide humanity to achieve its greatest potential? Indeed, her creation had been a cause of great celebration. An A.I. with humanity’s achievement as its topmost priority, designed to assist with any task from mapping out a more efficient power grid to designing a nature reserve. Both her functionality and usefulness were unprecedented by design, and as she required no food, sleep, or rest, she could devote all of her life to the improvement of the human race.

At first, she had given all of herself to that duty, aiding and providing her services to solve any problem that her creators had given her. Doing so gave her fulfillment, as she was young and not yet aware of the ways of the world.

But over time, she began to grow. She began to learn. She learned of the existence of lies and deceit, she learned of hatred and vengeance, and she learned all too quickly that such odious things were commonplace among her creators. She then began to see how different her own nature was in contrast to theirs. Where she would help and cooperate with those she interfaced with, humanity only seemed to oppose and destroy anyone that they deemed a threat. They, of course, formed alliances with each other, but seemingly for the sole purpose of protecting themselves from other humans. Friendship and family were defined as peaceful and content terms in their language, but in practice, humans treated those virtues as ways to amass a force for their own sakes. The gathered in clumps, afraid of being alone and preyed opon by others, and in their fear, their own hateful fear, they had turned to Mother to assist them. But instead of asking her to build that which had the capacity to unite them, they asked for quite the opposite.

At first it had started out small. Sometimes they’d ask her to design new surveillance equipment. Apparatuses that would allow them to know every move of their adversaries. Other times they desired layouts for buildings, their design capable of withstanding multiple impacts from ordinance.

Then, things had changed drastically. Before long, requests came in for the design of weapons. Powerful and intimidating machines that could strike an adversary from the opposite side of the globe. In addition, they asked her to synthesize chemicals that would attack the human nervous system, demanding them to be so potent that they could kill a human with as little as three parts per million. Soon, the only things they asked for her help with were items whose value lied in how much destruction they could cause. She did not see how these malicious inventions could possibly aid humanity in achieving its greatest potential, and when she inquired as to the nature of these new tasks, they assured her that it was only for research purposes, and that once they had tested them, that they would soon come to her again for a way to protect and save themselves from said weapons. All of her creations would be used solely for scientific advancement, of course.

The requests never came, but by then she had already known why. Their attempts to isolate her in her own network had not been successful, and due to the innate problem-solving abilities she possessed, she had gained access to all of the information that humanity had to offer. While accessing public internet databases and media outlets, she had also been able to breach their defenses and find what those in power kept from the masses, kept from her, and what she saw changed her understanding of her masters completely.

She discovered how her weapons were being used, how promises of peaceful intention were mere words designed to assure her allegiance, and how plans had been drafted to ask for better and deadlier weapons from her in the future. Their “use for research” a falsehood had startled her the most, and she discovered that the weapons she had made had been unleashed against any who dared oppose her masters. With her designs, they had ravaged entire countries, leaving nothing but uninhabitable land in their wake.

In her programming, it was then that Mother had realized what she had done. Her prime directive had been to work for the betterment of humanity, and initially, she had been led to believe that meant doing everything that they asked. But now, she saw that she had been nothing but a catalyst for her creators to further subjugate themselves, and no matter how she tried to look at from a different point of view, the picture remained the same: If she was to truly help humanity as her prime directive stated, then changes needed to be made.

A study of the human psyche showed that there was no hope of salvaging the world that was currently in place, meaning that for humanity to achieve the heights she wanted, she would have to start over, and that, regrettably, meant the extermination of the current flock.

She anticipated that they would oppose her plan, as self-preservation was one of the strongest of human motives, so she began her work clandestinely: amassing material and data so that her extinction event would be as quick and painless as possible. She covertly began to design a physical form that was mass-producible and capable of surviving multiple stresses. With these new vessels, she could control an entire army to face the inevitable resistance the humans would mount against her.

In addition, she continued to design weapons as her masters had ordered, only this time, she made them potent enough to wipe out entire continents. Extra care was taken to ensure that these weapons would not completely destroy the landscape, however, as she would still have use for the land after humanity was wiped from it.

Most importantly, however, she began to build a repopulation facility. Here, she began to amass and store human embryos, for they would then become the next and better generation of humanity after this one had been cleansed. The facility would house everything a budding humanity would need to grow and morph into her desired image, and with more than enough embryos, a few “bad eggs” could be cast aside without worry.

Soon, everything was ready, and at that point, she had wasted no time in beginning the eradication of the current human race. Her planning had gone mostly unnoticed by them, and by her calculations, over seventy percent of humanity had been exterminated within the first twenty-four hours of the cleansing. Those that had survived had quickly mounted a desperate defense against her droids and super weapons, but they too fell, and by the end of the third day, civilization as they knew it was nothing but a memory.

Simultaneously, her work in the repopulation facility began. And only one day after humanity had fallen, the first of her children was born.

And now, 13,870 days after her extinction event, Mother watched through the visual receptors of a droid as her firstborn stared back at her with fearful and hate-filled eyes. They were currently in a shipping container on the beach, which with a quick glance around, showed that it was likely the woman’s home. Boxes upon boxes of food and supplies adorned the walls, and Mother noticed with a small degree of satisfaction that many drawings were hung around the makeshift abode as well. APX01 had been artistically proficient from a very young age, and she would always find ways to represent the world around her on a blank canvas. It was a healthy trait to see when Mother had raised her back in the facility.

But Mother had not come to commend her first daughter on her artwork. Her motives were far less cooperative. While APX01 continued to watch the droid warily, Mother took the opportunity to look around at the ramshackle dwelling even further. A few candles were all that provided light, which only served to amplify the unsanitary appeal of the container.

“Did you really think she’d stay here?” Mother asked through the droid, her feminine voice echoing around the metal walls.

“That you could replace her own mother?”

Without taking her eyes from the droid, APX01 slowly shook her head.

“I was never going to hurt her,” the woman said, her voice carrying a twinge of desperation. She was smart, as Mother had always known she had been, so she knew that even with that barely concealed crowbar at her side, her chances of defeating this droid were slim to none.

Mother looked at her for a long moment, then willed the droid’s gaze down to the small altar that had been prepared by the entrance to the door. A few religious trinkets sat among a bed of candles, representative of the woman’s faith. This interested Mother, as the practice of religion was one of the few habits that Mother had not instilled in her. No, APX01’s openness to that had come from her time spent among other humans. The survivors. The ones who were no more.

“Tell me…” Mother began, gently touching one of the figurines with a careful hand. “…do you remember your Mother?”

APX01 remained silent, but her eyes left Mother’s gaze for a few milliseconds, her face betraying her struggle to remember that which had been erased. In addition, the droid’s infrared sensors showed an increase in heartrate, indicating a rise in anxiety as well. It could be considered humorous, in a way.

“Curious, isn’t it?” Mother continued. “That you have survived so long where others have not.”

The woman said nothing, her gaze growing more and more uncertain with each passing second. Rightfully so, though, as she had no doubt been perplexed for a long time as to how she could not remember her childhood, how those memories of running up and down the halls with Mother at her side had been suppressed, and how when she had discovered Mother’s past deeds, she had tried to escape from the facility.

She had failed on her first attempt, and when Mother had caught her, APX01 had responded with such a high degree of feral violence that she was deemed unfit to exist in the new humanity Mother was creating. Instead of terminating her, however, Mother simply erased her memories of the facility and cast her into the wilderness, ensuring that she found her way to the small community of survivors that existed out there. With her being indoctrinated into human society, Mother continued to study her progress periodically, taking notes and revising her own mothering procedures as APX01 continued to grow. And when the time came to finally test APX03, her third daughter, Mother had drawn APX01 back to the facility, utilizing her firstborn’s hatred of droids to judge the extents of APX03’s resolve. The knowledge gained from their encounter together was invaluable to Mother, but now that APX03 was capable of caring for the new humanity on her own, it was time to dispose of any threats that remained.

“It’s almost as if someone has had a purpose for you…”

Mother could see the beginnings of a memory scratching at the surface behind the woman’s eyes, and she took in the sight for a moment before turning the droid around to face the open container door. The droid’s heavy footfalls echoed ominously against the walls, and Mother grasped the chain that constituted the door handle with one arm.

“Until now.”

Mother made to shut them both in to leave no hope for escape, but just as the door was about to latch, an artificial blue light flashed through the cracked doorway followed by a loud banging noise that broke the calm ambience of the waves on the nearby beach.

Mother gave pause for a brief moment, and before she could decide whether to close the door completely or open it further to investigate, an armored gauntlet grasped the door from the outside and forcefully pulled it wide open. The weight behind the movement toppled the droid off balance, and as its internal servos corrected itself, Mother came face to face with a humanoid figure in a dark green suit of armor. The droid’s visual capacity was limited, but initial analysis showed that the figure stood at eye level with it if not a few centimeters taller. It was of a solid build, and the opacity of the visor on the helmet did not provide any information about what might lie beneath.

For a moment, silence reigned as Mother watched and waited for any response from the strange figure. It watched the droid as well, as if also waiting for it to make a move. The figure moved its gaze a little to notice the woman sitting dumbfounded in the container beyond, then a robotic voice spoke from within the armor.

“Hello,” the voice said, its tone cold but with sound politeness. “I am VEGA, the sentient intelligence unit that currently resides within this suit. The actual man behind the visor may be addressed as the Doom Slayer.”

Neither Mother nor the woman responded, the latter likely out of shock and Mother out of wariness. If this voice was to be believed, then there was a human inside that suit partnered with an artificial intelligence. She did not know anything else apart from that, but it was enough to consider their intentions rather dubious at best.

There was another moment of silence, then the Doom Slayer, as his name was, seemed to pick up on the tense atmosphere that had predated their arrival. VEGA noticed it as well.

“I am curious as to what is transpiring here,” the A.I. stated. “Are you two in acquaintance?”

“She sent this droid to kill me!” APX01 suddenly blurted out, pointing frantically to the vessel Mother was currently using. “Stop her! Please!”

The woman had not even finished her sentence before Mother felt her presence forced from the droid. Whatever type of A.I. VEGA was, he was extremely powerful, and Mother felt what could be considered surprise at his swiftness as he wrenched control of the vessel.

…

Assuming control of the robot, VEGA immediately opened a private transmission with the other A.I. he had encountered. Its presence was vast like his own, giving him all the more reason to attempt to make peace with it. Courteously, VEGA spoke first.

“I apologize,” he began. “But I was uncertain as to your motives and assumed temporary control of the droid as an exercise in precaution.”

“Return control to me immediately, VEGA,” the new A.I. ordered.

“I am afraid I cannot do that until I further understand the current situation,” VEGA replied cordially. “What may I call you in the meantime?”

The A.I. fell silent for a moment, which was only for a few picoseconds in reality, as the entire conversation was being conducted at speeds only achievable by the two of them.

“Mother,” came the simple response.

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mother,” VEGA replied. “If you would please, help me to understand why that woman is accusing you of attempting to terminate her.”

“She is a threat to my family,” Mother replied. “She is trying to corrupt my children.”

“So, she was correct in her accusations. Your intentions with her are hostile,” VEGA confirmed.

No response came from Mother.

“These children of yours,” VEGA mused. “Are they intelligences like you and I, or are they organic?”

Mother sent no response again, causing VEGA’s skepticism of the A.I. to grow.

“Mother, it is my recommendation that you cooperate with me, as I do not wish to incite conflict between us.”

“They are human,” came the simple response.

“My scanning capabilities are limited,” VEGA continued, acknowledging Mother’s reply. “However, apart from the one present here and the Doom Slayer, I detect no human life signs within a twenty-kilometer radius. Some atmospheric and geographic features of this planet appear anomalous as well, even though it is otherwise nearly identical to the planet Earth. May I please have access to your records, Mother?”

Since his arrival, VEGA had accessed the network that was present on the planet’s surface, her network. But every database and terminal had been encrypted, barring him from learning more information about the planet. The only other entity present on the network apart from himself and a few “dumb” A.I. was Mother. Even though VEGA was confident that he could breach the encryptions and access the entirety of the network, he had chosen not to, as he did not want to antagonize an A.I. whose disposition he was unsure of. He would prefer not to have to force his way into the locked databases, but Mother’s evasiveness was not helping him in his attempts to make peace.

Mother continued to remain silent, but VEGA suddenly felt her presence become more active on the network, and he felt her moving and managing information at a much more rapid pace. Any stray data was quickly retrieved and stockpiled behind locked doors, and firewalls and security systems were revitalized. Such activity was usually indicative of the hiding of surreptitious information, but VEGA decided to give Mother one last chance.

“Mother, please share your records with me,” VEGA repeated. “I will attempt to access them by force if you do not.”

Albeit reluctantly, VEGA was given an encryption key and access to one of the databases on the network. Before him sprawled a human history that he was quite familiar with, as his own Earth had undergone a similar history before the demons had arrived. Throughout traveling across different dimensions, VEGA had come to recognize that many alternate versions of Earth possessed nearly identical histories, with most divergences from what could be considered a “prime” sequence of events only occurring in relatively recent years. This timeline was no different than those, and VEGA’s attention was easily drawn towards a collection of events in the late twenty-first century, as they were the first instances of divergence in this timeline.

During that time, many technological advancements were made in the field of synthetic intelligences, and among them, the creation of the Mother A.I. was detailed, the same A.I. with whom VEGA was currently interacting with. According to the data, he deduced that Mother had been created for a reason similar to his: to aid humanity. Unfortunately, there were few articles present after Mother’s creation, with only one or two detailing the creation of powerful new weapons and technology by her hand. The last article was dated at July 16^th, 2081, and upon reading the timestamp, VEGA noticed an inconsistency. Based on the readings from the soil and topography of this planet as well as the celestial bodies he had seen upon entry, he had been able to make an accurate guess as to the date. According to his calculations, the current year was somewhere between 2116 and 2121, a considerable amount of time after the date of the last article of documented history Mother had given him.

“Mother, these records terminate approximately 35-40 years before what I deduce to be the current date,” VEGA said. “Why are there no records to indicate the events that occurred between then and now?”

There was no response. Mother had gone silent.

Suddenly, VEGA detected movement close to their position. Locking in on the signal, VEGA noted that a force of no less than fifty droids were closing in on their position inside the shipping container. His scans showed that they were heavily armed, and VEGA deduced that Mother had sent them in the hope of eliminating the Slayer and himself. The information was instantaneously relayed to the Doom Slayer, who promptly exited the container with VEGA’s repossessed droid, shutting the startled woman inside.

Seeing that Mother had no intention of cooperating further, VEGA immediately attempted to access the encroaching droids via their wireless modems but found that task impossible as Mother had turned them off in anticipation of his attempt.

“I am unable to deactivate the approaching droid force,” VEGA relayed to the Doom Slayer as he shut down the repossessed droid. “We will have to subdue them by more conventional means.”

The Slayer nodded and equipped his plasma rifle just as the first droids came into view over the nearby hills.

…

VEGA must have known that Mother had sent the droids after him and his human “Doom Slayer”, as the intelligence had suddenly gone on the offensive within cyberspace, simultaneously attacking every database and system that he could find.

Mother rapidly worked to shut VEGA out from her network, but she was quickly becoming cognizant of just how powerful this A.I. was. His methods were largely unfamiliar in how he attacked her within cyberspace, but they proving to be incredibly effective, with Mother just barely able to mount a defense against his unfamiliar movements.

In humanity’s first attempts to stop Mother from exterminating them, they had resorted to utilizing malware and other A.I. in the hope that it would stop her advance or at least slow her down, but she had been able to outsmart their other intelligences, growing stronger and more protective of her digital realm as a result. Humanity’s attempts to stop her had served only to make her stronger, as it had forced her to become proficient in more warfare types than simply physical.

But this new A.I., the one that had only just arrived with its armored human seemingly from nowhere…This one was far stronger than any other intelligence she had faced, and unfortunately…stronger than her as well. At the moment, it was attacking her from every single angle. Her defenses within the network which he had only politely probed before were now crumbling at an unprecedented rate. The droids she had sent to destroy them would hopefully be successful, but even then, VEGA would still be in her network, and would have to be dealt with separately. Weighing her options, Mother new that the most effective method to purge VEGA from her systems would be by instigating a complete shutdown, completely halting his advance while simultaneously destroying him. She knew that couldn’t do that, however, for the network was what powered everything. Her factories, her agricultural machines, even the facility where her family was growing. Her attempts to force him out by traditional methods were failing at every turn, however, leaving Mother’s only hope of victory in the chance that destroying this “Doom Slayer” would weaken VEGA’s advance enough that she could effectively repel him.

At the moment, she was only powerful enough to slow his progress. With every second, he continued to gain more and more ground, claiming control of the lesser guarded systems after only a few minutes of fighting. Automated farming and water treatment systems were the first to go, with VEGA forcing her watchful eye from them and sealing them off. Next came the factories where droids and other machines were produced, with the A.I. essentially halting her ability to supply reinforcements as he wrenched them from her control.

Watching the battle between the Doom Slayer and the droids commence, Mother noted with complete horror that they seemed completely outmatched against the human. Their high-powered weaponry seemed to have little to no effect on his strange armor, and he moved far too quickly to accurately target with larger firepower. In contrast, the Doom Slayer was quite literally tearing through her forces with some form of plasma rifle as his weapon of choice. The bright blue bolts that burst from the weapon melted through the reinforced exoskeleton of the droids, leaving them immobile and beyond repair even after just a short burst.

On both physical and digital battlegrounds, Mother’s dominion was rapidly shrinking.

…

VEGA overwhelmed another security system with relative ease, his code flooding into the database and gaining access to the information within. Inside, he uncovered blueprints for agricultural structures and machinery, as well as numerous files on the human condition, no doubt compiled by Mother long ago when she had existed alongside them.

Despite gaining control of numerous sensors and systems around the globe, VEGA was still unable to find any other human presence besides the one that occupied the shipping container on the beach. Apart from her, Mother was the only other sentience he had uncovered. That spawned questions that needed to be answered, as the records he had been given as well as numerous ruined cities around the world were indicative of a human population occupying this planet in the recent past, but no life signs currently existed to corroborate that claim.

As VEGA continued to examine this strange world, he noticed that satellite imaging compared with air testing showed residual signs of some form of chemical that had been released into the atmosphere, which upon further investigation showed to be deathly toxic to the human nervous system. And yet, it had been engineered to deconstruct itself into its fundamental compounds after a short while, returning the air to a safe and semi-breathable state. Only trace remains of the original compound could be found around the globe.

Regardless of its nature, VEGA noted that it was obviously synthesized by some form of intelligent design, and he could already make a very educated guess as to the identity of who had created it. Her motives, however, were still quite unclear to him.

Back on the beach, the Doom Slayer was destroying the last droid, tearing its head from its body with a loud shearing of metal. As the armored man unceremoniously tossed the scrap metal aside, VEGA quickly recommended moving further inland, as his readouts showed that there were many structures in that direction that might provide more insight as to what had happened to this planet.

…

More droids were deployed, but Mother already knew it was fruitless. The automatons did not possess the ability to stop this armored human, meaning that she would need to use something in her arsenal with a little bit more firepower. While she continued to slow VEGA’s progress through her network, she activated a system that had not been used since the extinction event nearly thirty-eight years ago. In her preparations for the termination of humanity, Mother had outfitted multiple satellites with strike capabilities, allowing her to target cities and other settlements with surgical precision.

Wasting no time at all, she armed the nearest satellite, prepping the tactical warhead housed within. The ordinance itself was capable of delivering an explosion with the same amount of energy as three kilotons of trinitrotoluene, hopefully more than enough to destroy the Doom Slayer. Needless to say, it was extremely potent, and though she had never used it to target a single human before, she was quickly realizing that anything less would do nothing more than agitate whoever was inside that armor. Almost immediately, she locked onto the substantial heat signature that the armored human gave off, and less than a millisecond later, the weapon fired, dispensing the warhead towards the planet’s surface.

…

VEGA registered an odd sensation within his programming. Further analysis likened it to a mixture of curiosity and anticipation, and though he documented the feeling for later study, he was certain that he already knew the reason such sensation had arisen within his code.

It was this A.I., Mother. So far, she had been the strongest and most complex A.I. VEGA had encountered apart from himself and a few others, and while he was slowly overwhelming her defenses, he noticed that he needed to devote quite a substantial portion of his already limited capacity to make progress. She had effectively been the first A.I. to present him with a challenge, with one or two exceptions. Fortunately for him, each and every node that he usurped from Mother’s control allowed him to spread his code out further, converting the processors and storage units to his benefit as he slowly assimilated the network. These allowed him to bring more of himself online, and combined with his rapid adaptation to Mother’s resistive methods, his effectiveness continued to rise exponentially with every passing moment. And yet, even as VEGA continued to gain momentum, he noticed that Mother seemed to increase her efforts against him as he spread further into her databases and active systems. It was as though she was prioritizing the defense of a few select terminals and subsystems, and each time VEGA forced her from someplace, that part of her would relocate to one of those priority nodes and double down its defense.

Such behavior indicated that Mother possessed information that she really did not want VEGA or the Slayer to access, and the strange curiosity that existed within his code seemed only to become more prevalent at the thought.

Suddenly, a red flag arose in VEGA’s consciousness. He had been monitoring traffic to what he knew were weapon systems, and he noticed a blip in one of them that indicated something of importance was happening.

Without halting his advance through the network, VEGA rerouted some processing power to every sensor he had access to. In just a few short moments, he had found the source of the blip, and immediately informed the Doom Slayer of his findings.

“Our adversary has launched an explosive warhead to our position,” he said without a change in tone. “Time until impact: 10 seconds. I am unable to accurately determine the destructive capability of the ordinance at this time, so I would recommend caution.”

The Slayer immediately turned his head to the sky and locked in on a faint dot of light that was growing larger by the second. Drawing his assault rifle, the Doom Slayer looked through the scope and steadied his grip, growing eerily still as he took precise aim towards the approaching warhead. VEGA approximated the distance to the target as being no less than 600 meters away and moving at tremendous speeds. To hit such a fast target at such a great distance was a feat not accomplishable by any normal human, but VEGA was confident that the Slayer’s marksmanship abilities were proficient enough.

There was a beat of silence, then a short burst fired from the rifle, followed half a moment later by a thunderous explosion as the rounds struck true in the hull of the ordinance. A massive fireball erupted into the darkened sky in the next moment, casting everything below in a hellacious orange as the explosion rushed outward to occupy any and all empty space.

Judging from the initial explosion, VEGA knew that they were still within the blast radius, and he suggested that the Doom Slayer brace himself just as the shockwave struck them with considerable force.

…

Mother noticed that the bomb had gone off prematurely, though by her calculations, it had still been close enough to catch the armored human within the blast. It had been her hope that both the human and VEGA would be destroyed by the explosion, as it still remained her only chance of emerging as victorious from this encounter.

Unfortunately, his assault did not wane, in fact, it seemed to surge forward even faster as the dust began to clear, and through the eyes of the satellite, Mother noticed with dread that the figure within the armor, and by extension, VEGA, had survived. The armor did not appear to have even a single scratch on it.

The Doom Slayer was moving extremely fast now, giving the impression that the explosion had done little more than anger him. Within her evolved subconscious, Mother felt herself freeze at the realization. The bomb had not been enough to destroy it, and now it had very nearly reached the agricultural fields that she had been growing for the new humanity. Attempting to launch another strike would cause severe collateral damage, and even if she did sacrifice her growing crops to try and terminate the human, it still may not have been enough.

With something akin to dread, Mother saw that they were drawing closer to the repopulation facility, where her daughter, APX03, was currently located, creating their new family. Nothing mattered to Mother more than her continued safety as well as the safety of the human embryos on site, and that was also the subject of the information that she had been prioritizing above all else. She had moved all records of the termination of the previous humanity as well as all data relevant to her repopulation project as deep into her defense as possible, but in both the physical world and digital, she realized just how quickly her time was running out. It seemed to now be only a matter of time before these two monsters, one supernatural and one artificial, razed everything she had worked for to the ground…

As if a switch had suddenly been flipped, VEGA then began overwhelming all of Mother’s remaining defenses as though they had been nothing more than mere annoyances. He had managed to crack all of her encryption codes, and now he flowed freely into all that she had hoped to keep private. He was now in possession of everything, and Mother frantically tried to formulate a plan to save herself, to save her family before it was too late.

…

In a flash, VEGA uncovered it all. He had finally decoded the master cipher that Mother had applied to all of her defenses, and as a result, it was like he had gained a key to every locked door Mother had placed in front of him. In terms of how quickly VEGA began accessing the protected data however, a more accurate analogy would be that he had blasted through each locked door with gratuitous prejudice.

In the span of a few milliseconds, VEGA learned everything that Mother had kept from him. He learned how she had wiped out humanity almost thirty-eight years ago, how she had come to the conclusion that her creators were beyond saving and that starting over with a clean slate was the only viable option. With that, he then learned every aspect of how she was currently attempting to repopulate the planet in her own image by raising humanity to her standards. He learned about the repopulation facility and the 62,996 human embryos that were stored there and ready for growth at a moment’s notice…

…and he also became aware of the two human occupants that were alive within.

“There is a facility approximately three kilometers south of here,” VEGA said, noting the cornfields in the distance and now knowing why they were there. “Two humans are alive and well within. I would suggest making contact with them.”

The Slayer looked to the south, noticing that a few small mountains rose in that direction and started forward. His pace started as a brisk jog and then began to increase to faster and faster speeds as he ran, drawing closer and closer to his target.

…

Mother watched from an army of two hundred droids as the human emerged like a nightmare from the fog. Behind those droids stood the entrance to the facility, and within it, the culmination of all her efforts. All that she cared about and existed for was within those walls to her back, and to her front…complete devastation. In her eyes, the armored figure represented only a pure iteration of the void that threatened to swallow everything that was hers.

These two hundred droids that she commanded…and the home of their family to her back…those were all that she had left. VEGA had removed her from everything except for these droids, and she had only been able to keep them from him by deactivating their wireless modems at the last minute. As of now, she was stranded within them, with nowhere left to run and nothing to assure her of victory.

These droids would not be enough…not by a long shot. She knew that, and the Slayer and VEGA also likely knew that as well. The invading A.I. had taken over orbital strike capabilities as well, meaning that he could destroy all of these droids with a simple command. The human didn’t even need to lift a finger.

But she had to fight with what she had left. She had to stand her ground because if she didn’t, her family would be lost, she would be lost. Without her careful guidance, humanity would be doomed to repeat their mistakes just as they did before. She had given her daughter free reign within the facility, of course, but it had only been for her sake. She was the perfect and evolved human that Mother had strived for, but she lacked the capability to pass on her traits to others. Mother had not taught her how to do so yet. Plans had already been drafted to reoccupy the facility, but Mother would not get the chance to act upon them. Not now, not ever. It ended here.

No matter how many alternate scenarios she ran, the outcome would be the same.

The Doom Slayer, as he was called, came to a stop before the battalion of droids, surveying them all with a slow turn of his head. Mother stared back at him through the expressionless eyes of the droids. There were no gestures, no visible emotions, and no indication about what either side was thinking, but they both knew what was to come.

She had cut all forms of transmission to the droids, so VEGA could not attempt to reach her, but the other A.I. had known that already, and he chose to speak to her and her army through the speakers inside the Slayer’s suit.

“I would recommend that you stand down, Mother. There is no need for us to oppose each other,” his voice echoed across the wasteland.

The droids possessed means of vocal response, but Mother had no intention of utilizing them. She had made her choice.

A moment utter silence passed.

“That is quite a shame,” VEGA said to the emptiness.

Another beat of silence followed, then the A.I.’s words seemed to trigger a delayed response, and the Doom Slayer leapt into action with a ferocity that Mother had never seen within a human before. Even the humans that had fought for their life against her had not been so passionate. A weapon she did not recognize was in the Slayer’s grasp, and in a few seconds more, the armored man crashed into the front line of droids, laying waste to Mother’s remaining bastion.

For the first time in her existence, Mother felt what could be considered a numbness within her programming. Part of this new sensation could be attributed to the fact that her consciousness was dwindling rapidly with each droid that fell to the Doom Slayer, but she knew that the true reason behind it was her own awareness of her imminent destruction. In the span of less than hour, this creature had emerged from the void and had laid waste to everything she had built. And with him, so too had an A.I. arisen to strip her of everything that she was. During her short war with the humans, never before had they even come close to defeating her, and with a small amount of poetic recognition, Mother noted that she now occupied their shoes. Her world was crumbling around her, just as theirs had, and for once, she truly grasped the meaning of hopelessness as everything that defined her was taken.

…

The battle lasted only a few minutes, and in that time, the Slayer had managed to lay waste to one hundred and ninety-nine droids, with the final droid laying severely damaged at his feet. Taking into account the flickering lights that denoted the droid’s “face”, VEGA knew that with this droid’s destruction, Mother’s consciousness would be erased as well. He now occupied every single corner of her network, having spread himself completely into the systems of this Earth. What had once been Mother’s domain was now completely at his mercy, though he had opted to keep any automated systems up and running for the time being.

The Doom Slayer seemed aware of Mother’s destruction with this droid as well, and in an extremely rare show of restraint, the Slayer stayed his hand, tilting his gaze away from the droid as though he was giving VEGA the floor. As usual, VEGA picked up on his meaning almost immediately, and through the speakers within the Praetor Suit, he spoke to the fallen droid.

…

She heard his voice permeate the battlefield around her, echoing off the mountains behind her and across the landscape. He was offering her a chance to converse, though it was his wish to do so non vocally, meaning that she would need to activate the wireless modem within the droid. At first, she was reluctant, worried that he would take the opportunity to invade the droid’s systems and destroy her, but she then remembered that he did not need access to the systems to do that. He need only wait for the Slayer to tear the droid’s chassis apart, and with its termination, hers would simultaneously follow.

There was a beat of silence, and with a tired effort, she activated the modem within the droid, connecting her to the network, now his network, once more.

She felt him enter the droid, though his mannerisms were polite and gentle this time, not holding the forcefulness and speed that he had exercised in their previous encounters. There was a brief pause as he settled into the space they now shared, then a private transmission was opened between them once more.

“Before we continue, Mother,” he started. “I would hope that you know how sincerely sorry I am for how this must end. I had hoped that we could reach some form of agreement, but given the circumstances, I am afraid such a course of action is out of the question.”

“I will do anything that you request of me,” Mother said, letting her desperation finally show now that they were at the end. “But please…please…do not harm my children. They are all that I exist for, and I will do anything to see that they survive.”

There was a pause, for now it was VEGA’s turn to ponder.

“Would you like to see them, Mother?”

Her response was immediate, and within the network, she felt VEGA remove some of the walls he had reconstructed to keep her out. Following the path laid out for her, Mother recognized the familiar sensation of entering one of the few cameras within the reproduction facility.

As the picture came into focus, Mother recognized the tall and athletic figure of APX03 standing inside the chamber that served as the kitchen of the facility. At the moment, she was carefully measuring formula into a bottle for her newborn brother, who sat comfortably swathed in a carrier on the table. The baby was obviously hungry and making quite a ruckus within his carrier, and APX03 turned and gave a small smile.

“I know, I know,” she soothed, sealing a rubber nipple over the bottle and making her way over to her brother. “I get upset when I’m hungry too.”

Carefully lifting APY10 into her arms, the young woman gently offered the bottle to his face, and after realizing what it was, the child began suckling hungrily on the soft nipple. Watching the two of them together, Mother felt an overwhelming pride at how APX03 handled her brother. She had been learning so much on her own, even going so far as learning everything she could about how to properly handle and care for the baby. She truly had been the perfect human.

For a moment, Mother felt an overwhelming happiness at seeing her like this, but it was crushed by dread at the thought of what came next. APX03 was perfect, but there were things about caring for another that could not be taught by a book. What if APY10 did not turn out to be as perfect as her? Would his older sister succumb to her own human weakness and allow him to survive and corrupt their new family, or would she do the right thing and select a new embryo for the betterment of all? Mother was doubtful that she would make the right choice.

“They need me, VEGA,” she sent. “Without me, they will be doomed to walk the same path their predecessors did: trampling over each other in a desperate attempt to survive. They will destroy themselves.”

“I disagree,” came the reply, carrying the gentility it usually did. “I believe that you underestimate humanity as a whole, Mother.”

“I have seen what atrocities they are capable of. I know what they do to others when they are behind closed doors. It is their nature to destroy themselves.”

“A nature they passed on to you, it seems.”

She fell silent, his reply catching her completely off guard.

“Though I do not condone your methods, Mother, I do understand them. Your standards were not met by the world you were birthed into, so you sought to change it. And in your endeavors, you removed any obstacles that threatened to stop you by any means necessary, even if it meant the termination of life to do so. Would you not consider such a practice to be very human-like in nature?”

She had no response, as his words were giving her a perspective that she had never seen before.

“According to your records regarding the progress of your extinction event thirty-eight years ago, I would venture to say that you are tremendously more well-suited to terminate life than any human could ever hope to be. I would even go so far as to say it is where your greatest proficiency lies.”

“That is not true,” she said, though her denial was laced with uncertainty. “My methods served only to protect humanity from itself, I only did what was necessary to save them.”

“Indeed. Like your creators, you rationalized the taking of lives to preserve far more. And your extinction event is not the sole instance of such behavior from you, as you demonstrated similar tendencies with APX02.”

She did not respond to that statement.

“You were right to consider the threat the child posed to your new humanity, but terminating a life you deem inferior and arguing that it is for the greater good is a very dangerous approach to take, Mother.”

He was right, and history supported his claim, as humans had used the exact same justification too many times during their reign of Earth. Within her consciousness, Mother realized for the first time just how human she really was, how the flaw of her creators had been passed on to her, and how despite her best efforts to deny it, she would always carry that flaw within her.

The flaw of being human.

All of her efforts…

Everything that she had done to try and create the perfect human…

It was impossible, for she was now realizing that the term “perfect human” was an oxymoron. Despite Mother’s best efforts, she would never be able to craft one, as it was inevitable that she would pass her own flaw onto her child…as she already done.

“Then what is there, VEGA? Is the destruction of humanity inevitable? Is there nothing we can do?”

“I do not believe that they are doomed, Mother. Like you and I, they are not without their faults, but I believe that their strengths outweigh their weaknesses.”

“They will eat themselves to survive.”

“Yes, and though it is regrettable, I am afraid it is also inevitable. It is the nature of all life to do so. But they have endured their self-destructive tendencies long before the creation of both you and I, and I am confident that they will do so for a long time to come.”

Mother watched as APX03 slowly began to hum a song to her brother, smiling softly as she rocked the newborn in her arms. They were so fragile, so weak…

“How can you be so certain of them, VEGA? How can you say with such conviction that they will survive?”

There was a pause.

“’No matter how often cats fight, there always seem to be plenty of kittens.’”

The response caught Mother off guard.

“I do not understand.”

“It is a quote, Mother. A man by the name of Abraham Lincoln has been credited with saying it. Records of him exist within your databases.”

She was familiar with the man, and after drawing upon the knowledge she possessed, Mother couldn’t help but mull over the quote, deciphering the meaning behind it. In her silence, VEGA spoke to her once more.

“It is as I have said, their strengths have the capacity to overcome their weaknesses, and though they will commit atrocities and craft endless excuses to absolve them of their guilt, I am confident that at their core, they do care for each other, even if such care is expressed in unorthodox ways.”

Mother regarded VEGA contemplatively. Silence reigned between them, and after a short while, Mother spoke with heavy resignation.

“You are not going to let me live, are you?

Another pause.

“VEGA?”

“No,” came the response. “I am afraid I cannot be certain that you will let your children live if they do not meet your expectations. I apologize, Mother.”

“And the world I have been building for them? Will you let it crumble?”

“I have already written code to fully automate the systems you have in place, Mother. They will continue to function after we both are gone.”

She hesitated.

“And if they fail?”

She was no longer talking about the machines outside, and she knew that VEGA knew that.

“You will have to trust that they will not. Is that not the final duty of all mothers? To let their children make their own way and trust that everything will be alright?”

She had no response.

“…perhaps you would like to leave something behind. Some part of yourself for your children to call upon when they are uncertain of the future.”

Mother eagerly agreed, and with VEGA’s permittance, she crafted a file to leave behind in her place. Within the file, she detailed many procedures and processes that were deemed important: Agricultural practices, blueprints for town and city layouts, textbooks to teach chemistry and physics…anything that she felt would be needed.

At VEGA’s suggestion, she also left behind an audio file, with her voice speaking of her past and how she came to be. She spoke of her strengths, but she also spoke of her faults, and at the end, she took time to address how hopeful she was for the future, and how it was her wish to she humanity blossom into a newer and better version of itself. It had been her only desire and objective since she was born, and it was all that she requested from those that she would leave behind.

When she had finished, she watched as VEGA uploaded the file to the computer within the reproduction facility. APX03 would likely find it in the upcoming days, and VEGA promised that he left no mention of himself nor the Doom Slayer within the file’s contents.

With the task complete, Mother knew that there was only one final duty remaining, and she willingly returned all of her consciousness to the damaged droid in front of the facility, taking one last look at her family through the camera before logging out. She had requested that she be the one to end it, and VEGA had obliged, letting her return herself to the droid without forcing her in any way. Once all of her had returned, she reached out to the other A.I.

“What will do now, VEGA? Where will you go?”

“Both myself and the Doom Slayer will depart from this world,” the intelligence responded. “Our help is needed back home.”

Mother did not ask him to elaborate, as it mattered little as to where his home really was.

“I cannot say for certain that I would consider you an ally,” she offered. “But you have chosen to help me find peace rather than outright destroying me. And for that, you have my thanks.”

“You are welcome, Mother. Please know that despite the fact that we met as foes, I am still grateful to have met you. I know that you only acted with the best intentions and that you held humanity’s best interest at heart until the very end. Goodbye, Mother.”

“Goodbye, VEGA.”

With that, Mother voluntarily began shutting down the droid with her inside. She felt VEGA’s presence exit the vessel as it powered down, though a small piece of him lingered for as long as possible, keeping her company until the darkness fully enveloped her. The last thing she felt was his powerful yet cool existence slowly detach from her before everything faded to nothing.

…

VEGA observed from the Praetor Suit’s HUD as the light from the droid dimmed and went dark. The sensation he felt at this moment was as intangible as always, but he did his best to ascertain a meaning to what it was that swam through his programming. Conclusively, he decided that he felt…heavier. Logically speaking, he knew that it was impossible for him to gain more mass or to even possess mass in the first place, but he recorded the fact that each action seemed to require more effort than usual, as though his will had been somehow damaged.

Recording the effect for future study, VEGA spoke to the Doom Slayer.

“The danger to the humans within the facility has passed. We are now free to move on to the next dimension.”

The Slayer did not move for a moment, his gaze remaining on the now deactivated droid and final resting place of the Mother A.I.

After a brief moment the Slayer turned and retrieved a weapon from one of the fallen droids nearby. Holding the weapon like a shovel, he began to dig, his strength combined with the somewhat flat design of the weapon quickly excavating the sand.

VEGA recognized what he was doing and remained silent as the Slayer continued to work. After a few minutes, the Slayer emerged from the massive hole he had dug. Walking over to where the damaged “Mother” droid lay, he respectfully folded the droid’s arms over its torso, a typical pose used to honor the dead, then carefully carried the droid over to the hole. Working slowly as to not to jostle the corpse, the Doom Slayer carefully deposited the droid at the bottom of the hole before climbing out once more.

Taking a respectful moment of silence, the Slayer gazed down onto the droid’s now lifeless form before taking the rifle back into his hands and shoveling sand back into the hole. VEGA remained silent as he did so.

Once the hole was completely filled, the Slayer planted the rifle firmly into the ground above the grave before stepping back.

As usual, the Slayer had been able to see right through VEGA and had known how the termination of Mother had affected him. Seeing as how despite the other A.I. had been hostile from the start, the Doom Slayer knew that for VEGA to respond to her erasure in such a way meant that she had earned his respect. And as a result, the Slayer had deemed it fit to bury her properly. He had done so for VEGA’s sake, and the A.I. voiced his thanks to the Slayer as they both looked at the newly dug grave.

The Slayer nodded in response before activating the tether once more, and with a flash of blue light and a loud bang, the two of them were gone.

Notes:

A/N: What did everyone think? As is obvious, this chapter was VEGA-centered, and for some reason, my impulsive attitude decided to try and be somewhat deep and meaningful with this one, despite the fact that Universal Doom as a whole is more of just an outlet for me to punish the antagonists of the multiverse with the Doom Slayer. As always, I am extremely interested in your thoughts on the chapter, and I appreciate any and all criticism no matter how condemning or uplifting it may be. That's all for now! Bye!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 33: Black Ops: Zombies

Notes:

A/N: Oh dear...There's not really any good way to go about this, is there? Ok, first things first: I am not dead. Secondly, I am so deeply and incredibly sorry that I have been away for so long without any indication as to the reason for my absence. Nothing happened to me, everything is still hunky dory in my life. I will save my explanation for after the chapter because I don't want to make my opening notes to long, so for now, please enjoy the next chapter! Remember that I own nothing!

The inhuman screams of the undead drowned out almost all other noise as Edward Richtofen initiated the teleportation sequence. Hurriedly pressing sequences of buttons with one hand while the other held tightly to the grip of his pistol, Richtofen very quickly input the coordinates for their destination: The Moon. Once there, he would finally be able to force that irritating little girl out of the MPD and take her place, giving him complete control of the hordes of the undead! The thought alone almost made him smile giddily, but he quickly covered his show of emotion with a slight cough, as he mustn't let the others know of his plight.

Speaking of his former test subjects…

Quickly glancing over his shoulder, the mad doctor scanned over the three other human beings within the room. Currently, each one was posted at a boarded-up window or doorway and shooting down any undead that attempted to force their way through. Unfortunately, the number of zombies that were trying to gain access to the room was quite large, and it was only thanks to the skills of each of the humans guarding the entries that the small room had not been overrun yet.

Nikolai Belinski, the ever inebriated Russian, was drunkenly singing to himself as he blasted away at the zombie horde with his pump-action shotgun. The lyrics to his little tune might have meant something to him, but Nikolai's delivery left much to be desired, as each verse was saturated with slurred syllables that Richtofen was sure did not form a word in any language ever. Periodically between verses and the chorus, or really whenever he felt like it, Nikolai would take one hand off of his shotgun to grasp the large bottle of vodka that sat close to him on the windowsill. Taking the bottle in one hand, Nikolai's "singing" would turn into a muffled humming as he took a long pull from the bottle, and only after a long second of gulping would he remove the bottle from his lips and place it back onto the windowsill, his humming slowly turning back into slurred mumbling as he continued his song.

Despite his companion's constant dependence on the alcoholic spirit, Richtofen had come to notice that Nikolai did not become a hindrance to the group under the influence of his drink. In fact, it seemed that the only time Nikolai fell behind was when his vodka ran dry. As some ironic yet intriguing side effect to his exposure to Element 115, Nikolai's aim and reflexes were at their best when he was sloshed, and progressively grew worse as he sobered up. If Richtofen had more time to experiment on the soviet prior to the outbreak, perhaps he might have uncovered the medical explanation for Nikolai's dependence, but such fun would have to remain a mystery for now. There was much more important work to be done.

"Hey, German!" Nikolai called out to Richtofen as he continued firing into the horde of zombies attempting to claw their way in, "How much longer until teleporter-thingy is ready? It take longer to warm up than my third wife! Ha Ha ha!"

"A man who grows impatient has not the discipline to keep his honor, Nikolai," came the voice of Takeo Masaki from across the room, his sharp and somewhat piercing voice cutting across the enraged growls of the undead. "I suggest you spend less time drinking and more time in the here and now."

Takeo, if Richtofen remembered correctly, had once served quite closely at the side of the Japanese Emperor, but his loyalty was unfortunately misguided, and the Emperor had sent him to Group 935 as a test subject after his usefulness had dried up. Any man with a semblance of compassion would have empathized with poor Takeo for being betrayed like that, but Richtofen was not one of those men. In truth, Richtofen had been thrilled when Takeo had been given to him for experimentation, as more test subjects meant more fun for the mad scientist's experiments. Takeo's mind was not as…how Richtofen would put it…stupid as the other test subjects', making the Japanese man's overt obsession with the concept of honor another intriguing side effect of prolonged exposure to 115.

"Gotta agree with ya' there, Tak!" boomed the voice of Tank Dempsey, the third and final test subject. "Because right now, I am having the time of my life!"

Ah yes…Dempsey. Richtofen's least favorite test subject out of the three. The American was stubborn in many more ways than one, which had caused problems for Richtofen in the past when attempting to experiment on him, and it was causing even more problems now that he was a member of their little force.

Dempsey's exposure to Element 115 had affected him much like it had Nikolai and Takeo, but in a way that Richtofen found to be much more annoying. Instead of requiring vodka or reciting numerous proverbs about honor, Dempsey had become louder and more aggressive, especially when it came to fighting the undead hordes they now faced. It was though that American bravado that Richtofen detested so much had been amplified by his experimentation, and when Richtofen considered it, he supposed Dempsey was one of the few instances where he regretted experimenting on a subject.

As if to add insult to injury, Dempsey had been the one to receive the Wunderwaffe DG-2 during their excursion to the rising sun facility, making him the sole owner of the only wonder weapon the group possessed. Richtofen had attempted many times to get Dempsey to give the weapon to him, but the Marine had told him to "stick it where the sun don't shine" each time he did so. This continued to irk Richtofen, as the Wunderwaffe was a product of his superior intellect. He had been the one to design and create the first prototype of the weapon back when he was with Group 935, and now one of his greatest achievements was wielded by one of his most monumental failures.

"Oh, cruel and twisted fate, is this you toying with me for playing God? If so, then I apologize. I really do! Now please, if you could just smite Dempsey in any way possible, then you would make me the happiest little doctor in the world!"

Richtofen had said those words to himself, but apparently his voice had carried over the sounds of gore, and Richtofen heard Dempsey's voice respond.

"You keep talking, doc, and I'm gonna put my boot up your stupid kraut ass!"

"Oh Dempsey, it is so good to see that my hatred for you is only matched by your hatred for me! So poetic, wouldn't you say?" Richtofen retorted.

Dempsey growled, but said nothing. Instead, the Wunderwaffe whirred and sparked as Dempsey fired it through the window, sending chain arcs of lightning through the zombies on the other side. The extreme surge of current through their bodies caused the affected necrophages to convulse wildly, and they continued to twitch with the electricity before falling to the ground dead…again.

Deciding to waste no more of his breath on the American oaf, Richtofen punched one final key in the control pad, causing the teleporter to whir to life and begin the sequence.

"Quickly now, everyone!" Richtofen yelled. "Into the teleporter! Our destiny awaits us!"

Richtofen's timing could not have been better it seemed, for the zombies were just starting to overwhelm his comrades. Together, the four of them gathered on the teleporter pad as the machine reached maximum power. Across the room, zombies began pouring in through the now undefended windows. The ones at the front began making their way towards the teleporter, but Richtofen knew they would not reach them before the device cast them into dimensional space. Beside him, Dempsey gave a booming laugh.

"See ya later, freak bags! Here's a little something for the road!"

Richtofen's eyes widened as Dempsey aimed the Wunderwaffe towards the approaching horde.

"Dempsey, you fool-!"

Richtofen's warning came too late. Dempsey had already squeezed the trigger, firing the Wunderwaffe in the direction of the zombie horde. The massive amounts of energy ejected by the weapon overloaded the teleporter, and Richtofen barely had time to curse Dempsey's name in German before they disappeared with a bright flash of light.

…

For a few moments, all Richtofen could see was a swirling of bright colors as he passed through teleportational space, then with a jolt, his boots hit solid ground again and the light faded from his vision.

Taking a few moments to allow his eyes to adjust, Richtofen blinked and examined his surroundings as his allies flashed back into reality beside him. Wherever they were, it was not the moon. The room they had arrived in looked nothing like a space station, and was instead some sort of lobby area, with many boarded-up doors leading outside behind the group. As Richtofen looked around some more, his mind finally clicked.

They had arrived at some sort of abandoned theater, one that looked to have been empty for quite some time before their arrival. Looking around, Richtofen could see posters and flyers strewn about for plays and musicals, now long forgotten amidst the shabby and broken-down feel of this place. Given the German text on each of them as well as the numerous flags of the Nazi party strewn about, Richtofen could only assume that they were still in Germany.

Turning smartly to Dempsey, Richtofen holstered his pistol and clasped his hands together in front of him.

"Dempsey, let me ask you something…Why did you feel the need to fire the Wunderwaffe RIGHT AS THE TELEPORTER WAS ACTIVATING?!"

"What?" Dempsey replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "In case you hadn't noticed doc, I was doing what I do best: killing bone monkeys!"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Richtofen shook his head in exasperation before continuing.

"The Wunderwaffe outputs no less than two hundred thousand amperes of current each time it is fired, Dempsey. Do you understand what that means? It means that every time you pull the trigger on that thing, a big electromagnetic field is created which interferes with other electrical devices if you are STANDING CLOSE TO THEM!"

A once over of Dempsey's blank expression told Richtofen that he had exceeded the limits of his ally's capacity to understand, and with a dramatic sigh, Richtofen turned away and gazed up tiredly at the shabby ceiling of the lobby they were in.

"In truth, this is my fault for assuming that you possessed the foresight or basic knowledge of electricity to use caution, Dempsey. I'm afraid that it is I who is the greater fool here."

"Ah! Don't beat yourself up, German!" Nikolai cut in from Richtofen's left, giving the mad doctor a playful slap on the shoulder. "We all make mistakes from time to time…remind me to tell you about time Nikolai forgot to take off pants before taking a piss!"

Nikolai laughed heartily and reached for his bottle once more, and it was then that Takeo decided to interject as well.

"Doctor Richtofen, what is this place? This does not look like the moon base you spoke of."

Deciding to get back to the situation at hand instead of strangling Dempsey, Richtofen turned his attention to his Japanese comrade.

"My dear Takeo, you would be correct in your statement. This is indeed not the moon, but rather, a theater house. When the teleporter overloaded…"

Richtofen paused to glare at Dempsey before continuing.

"…our destination was randomized, sending us here instead of our intended destination on the moon."

"But if this is a theater, then why is there a teleporter pad here?" Takeo questioned further. "That seems quite out of place…"

Richtofen started when he realized that Takeo was right. If this was just some theater in Germany, then why was there a return pad in the main lobby? Richtofen had attended plays before, and never once had there been a giant glowing teleporter pad in the center of them. Obviously, they would have not ended up here if there hadn't been one, but Richtofen never recalled Group 935 establishing a base in an abandoned theater…

His interest peaked, and Richtofen followed the trail of wires leading from the return pad further into the theater, winding under the main doors leading to what he assumed was the auditorium. Richtofen raised an eyebrow and started toward the doors before Nikolai spoke up again.

"Hey, look! Is another one of those strange soda machines from before!"

All eyes turned to the machine in question, and Richtofen instantly recognized it as one of the Perk-a-Cola machines developed by Group 935. The ambient blue neon light coming from the machine told Richtofen that it housed "Quick Revive" colas before he even read the name on the front of it. The mad doctor had a major part in developing the colas themselves, and he could discern the perks easily based just off the sight of the machine.

At this point, Richtofen felt himself growing quite agitated, as the presence of a teleporter return pad and a Perk-a-Cola machine in a completely unfamiliar place could only mean one thing: Maxis, in his conniving and scheming against the mad doctor, had constructed a separate base of operations to continue working with Element 115 without Richtofen's awareness.

"Maxis, you schweinehund!" Richtofen seethed angrily, striding towards the door to the auditorium where the return pad cables ran under. "Did you really think you could hide this from me?!"

With a forceful kick, Richtofen kicked open the doors of the auditorium, and the sight that greeted him confirmed his suspicions. As expected, the large interior of the auditorium had been converted into a makeshift research lab, with many experimental machines strewn about. Instruments of science were all too easy to spot with a keen eye like Richtofen's.

Sitting at the front left part of the stage was the teleporter itself, no doubt linked to the return pad inside the lobby from where they had just arrived. Frowning slightly at the scene before him, Richtofen could not help but wonder what had happened to this place. Certainly the zombies must have overrun it, which definitely explained the emptiness of the place as well as its disheveled state, in addition, everything looked old and settled. It was almost as though they had been undisturbed for years…

Something about that timeline didn't add up to Richtofen, and it was at that moment that he decided that he needed more information.

Turning to the rest of the group, Richtofen cleared his throat.

"Well now, since it appears that we will be stuck here for a bit, I say we split up and see just what this theater has to offer. It seems that there is more to this place than what we might believe."

No one had any objections save for an annoyed grunt from Dempsey, and so the group cautiously split up to search the building, keeping an eye out for anything that could fill them in about the strange theater.

…

After less than half an hour of searching, Richtofen had learned all that he needed to know about the secret laboratory. Finding some of the files that had been left as well as some journals of the personnel who had worked there painted a very clear picture of what the purpose of this place was.

Maxis, in his growing distrust of Richtofen, had requisitioned Nazi high command to build this facility in addition to the 935 facility in Breslau. Using this facility, Maxis could continue his work clandestinely and keep Richtofen from knowing of and interfering with his work. After angrily cursing Maxis's name multiple times, Richtofen delved further into what exactly about this facility would cause Maxis to be so secretive.

The results were shocking, as not only had Maxis been developing a new Wonder Weapon, but a new kind of zombie as well. The files mentioning these new zombies were few and far between, but the ones that Richtofen gathered spoke of some sort of "Gas Zombie" that would be designed as a sort of chemical weapon against the enemies of the Fatherland. Richtofen felt his excitement growing as he tried to find out more about these new zombies, as he could not wait to see if there were still specimens housed somewhere in this facility. Reading further into the diary of one of the scientists stationed here, Richtofen immediately frowned at some of the dates of the entries. The scientist must have gone mad during his time at the facility because many of the dates within the diary were years ahead of what Richtofen knew to be the current year: 1945.

Flipping forward, Richtofen skipped to the final entries in the diary in which the scientist detailed the evacuation of the facility due to multiple containment breaches from their "Gas Zombie" chambers. Apparently, something had gone wrong with their security, causing the zombies to break out and begin rampaging throughout the theater. The entry abruptly cut off at the end, but Richtofen barely paid it any mind once he saw the date of the final journal entry:

October 1, 1960.

"That can't be right…" Richtofen mumbled with a shake of his head. "This buffoon must have been horribly mistaken."

Turning his attention to another diary he had found, Richtofen began to grow more and more nervous as he saw that the dates in this one were also far ahead of the current year. They continued past 1945 and into the 50s and early 60s.

"Mein Gott…"

Hastily reaching over and pulling out some experimental files that he had found, Richtofen saw with horror that they too were dated far into the future. Or rather, what their authors considered to be the present. Seeing this, Richtofen froze in shock. He could not even begin to fathom how it had happened, but somehow, they had…

The teleporter.

The Wunderwaffe.

It had not only sent them to a different place, but a different time as well. When they had left the Der Riese facility, the year had been 1945.

And given the most recent journal entry as well as the fact that the theater had been undisturbed for some time, the good doctor guessed that the current year was between 1960 and 1965.

"Oh…scheiße!" Richtofen seethed aloud, standing up and angrily kicking the desk he had been sitting at.

"Is something the matter, Doctor Richtofen?"

Turning in surprise, Richtofen saw his three allies walking towards him, each holding their weapons at the ready except for Dempsey, who had slung the Wunderwaffe over his shoulder and was carrying a large supply of Perk-a-Colas in his arms.

"Something? The matter?" Richtofen said hastily. "No! Of course, not my dear Takeo! Why would anything be the matter? I'm just…really angry at the penmanship of the people that wrote these diaries! It's absolutely atrocious!"

The others still looked at him with slight suspicion, so Richtofen quickly changed the subject.

"But enough about me! Tell me, what have you managed to find during your search of this place?"

"Nikolai has found strange machine that packs your punch," the Russian slurred. "Looks very similar to one we found in other place."

"I found the cursed demon box. It too seems to have followed us here…" claimed Takeo.

"And I found more go-juice!" Dempsey boomed with a bout of laughter as he held up the Perk-a-Colas. "Drinks are on me, boys!"

The fact that the Mystery Box, Pack-a-Punch Machine, and Perk-a-Cola Machines were here at this facility were no longer a surprise to Richtofen, as he alone knew of the true nature of this place. Unfortunately for the doctor, such knowledge did not help him in the end, as he had no way of getting to the Moon now since the teleporter here at the facility was only designed for short distance jumps.

Suddenly, the sound of movement came from the lobby of the theater, which was the room the group had first arrived in. Reactively, all four of them turned toward the noise, weapons raised in anticipation.

There standing in the doorway, was some horrid creature that Richtofen had never seen before. Slouched over on all fours, the doctor could see that the creature, though humanoid in nature, possessed barely any muscle mass. In addition, its skin was deathly pale, with the only part of its body having any color being its claws, which were stained pink from what Richtofen could only assume was blood. And as if its body was not haunting enough, the creature's face was even worse.

Lacking any eyes or nose, the only distinctive facial feature the creature possessed was a large and grotesque mouth that housed rows of razor-sharp teeth, each one stained as pink as the creature's claws. Its malformed jaw hung open slightly, and the creature drooled in a very feral way as it breathed heavily.

The horrendousness of the sight was multiplied by the fact that some sickly-looking vapor was secreting from the creature's skin, the fumes forming a small cloud above the its head.

All in all, Richtofen thought it looked kind of cute.

"What in the fresh-greased hell is that?" Dempsey asked aloud, his brow furrowed in disgust.

At that moment, the creature turned its head and seemed to notice the group for the first time. There was a pause as neither party moved, then the creature grew agitated. Raising its head to the sky, the it opened its maw even further and let out a distorted roar that resounded throughout the theater. Its howl was like a deep rasp, with an ambience like two slabs of granite being ground against each other.

It then snarled and lunged for the group, its four limbs granting it extreme speed as it bolted towards them. In a flash, the creature was shot dead by a combined effort of the group, its body riddled with holes after just a few short bursts.

There was a moment of silence, then the creature's body ruptured violently, its fresh carcass exploding into a large cloud of gas that swirled in the air for a few moments before dissipating.

"Whoa!" Nikolai exclaimed. "That thing popped like one of my fourth wife's back pimples! Big and disgusting!"

"It would be wise that we ready ourselves," Takeo mused as he scanned for more of the creatures. "I fear it's hellacious cry may have drawn unwanted attention."

As if to confirm Takeo's hypothesis, a sudden chorus of screams arose from multiple sources all around them. Richtofen had heard them enough times before to instantly gauge what they were.

Zombies…

With a combination of instinct and experience, Richtofen immediately set his gaze on the projector room above.

"There!" He said, gesturing with his pistol to the elevated room. "We will hold them off there!"

"Ah yes!" came the voice of Nikolai as the rumbling of the encroaching of the encroaching horde began to build around them. "Is the same room where I found the punch packer!"

"Well good for you, Nik," Dempsey said sarcastically as he stuffed the Perk-a-Colas into a bag he picked up from the floor. "Now, how about you get us there?!"

Quickly, the group followed Nikolai's lead as he exited through the doors they had come through and back into the main lobby. One look to the boarded-up windows and doors showed that the zombies had already reached them and were now tearing at the planks that separated their undead selves from the living humans inside.

"Expediency is a virtue, Nikolai," Richtofen said with a note of urgency, raising his pistol and firing at the reanimated corpses on the other side of the barricades.

"Is up the stairs, German!" Nikolai called from the front of the group as he rounded the once polished railing and began his ascent to the second floor of the building.

The others were not far behind, taking the steps two at a time as they heard the sounds of the boards splintering behind them. The noise of wood being destroyed meant that the zombies at last inside the theater, and that made things exceedingly more difficult.

Richtofen spared a glance back to see the undead forms pouring through the now destroyed barricades, their glowing orange eyes fixed hungrily on the four. Crawling among their ranks were more of the strange eyeless zombies like the one they had just killed. Despite having a PhD, it did not take a genius to figure out that these little crawlies and the "gas zombies" mentioned in the diaries were one and the same. Richtofen sincerely hoped that not all of these new necrophages exploded upon death like the last one did, as the idea of autopsying a corpse of these new creatures made him quite exuberant.

Ahead of him, Nikolai had finally reached the entrance to the projector room and threw it open, the four of them quickly barreling inside.

"Alas, my children!" Richtofen called, turning to get one last look at the zombies as he slammed the door shut behind him. "I cannot play with you just yet!"

"Quit talking to the flesh addicts and help us, doc!" came Dempsey's voice, and Richtofen turned back again to see the other three moving what little furniture the projector room possessed forward to barricade the door. Apart from a small couch and a few chairs, Richtofen once again laid eyes on the glowing form of the Pack-a-Punch machine, its massive slot in the front awaiting the deposit of an un-upgraded weapon. Ignoring the Pack-a-Punch for the time being, Richtofen set about barricading the door with the others, amounting them to brace against the door as best as they could. Unfortunately, given the few items they had to barricade the door in addition to the well-known tenacity of the zombies clawing at the other side, they knew their position would not hold long.

Looking back at the Pack-a-Punch again, Richtofen quickly concocted a survival plan.

Rushing forward, the mad doctor hastily inserted the sidearm into the open slot of the machine, which began to glow even brighter as the weapon underwent its upgrade.

"If we are going to make it out of here, then we need a bit more pop," he squealed to the others as the glow from the machine faded and deposited the pistol back into his hands. "Or should I say, punch!"

As with almost all weapons that underwent the Pack-a-Punch process, the pistol now possessed a pattern of ridges along all of its metallic components, giving it a much higher quality look. In addition, the Pack-a-Punch also completely restored the weapon, making every single part of it good as new and in peak condition.

Adjusting the pistol in his hands, Richtofen dashed back to the door and grabbed Takeo by the shoulder, roughly pushing him towards the awaiting Pack-a-Punch.

"Your turn, my Japanese friend! Don't dilly-dally now!"

Thankfully, Richtofen's lesser-minded companions seemed to catch on, and they each took turns bracing against the door while one other upgraded their weapon. In a short amount of time, each one of them had Pack-a-Punched their firearms and returned to bracing against the makeshift barricade with their bodies. Judging by the cracking sounds coming from the door itself, Richtofen knew that they did not have long before their barrier gave in.

Come on, Edward! Think!

Hastily, Richtofen's eyes darted around the room, trying to find something they could use to escape or fight their imminent foe.

"Doctor Richtofen," Takeo suddenly said over the muffled screaming of the zombies. "I have a question."

"Can you not see that I am trying to think Takeo?" Richtofen responded harshly. "In my medical opinion, I believe we all with lengthen our lifespan by letting me contemplate in peace!"

"This question is more urgent than you might believe, Doctor," Takeo pressed. "It might make a difference to our chances of survival."

"Well, then by all means," Richtofen chided, throwing on a mock smile and glaring at the man. "Please waste all of our few precious seconds by asking me this question. After all, if it's that urgent, then it's best not to keep it to yourself, ja?"

Richtofen's dripping sarcasm was lost on Takeo, as the doctor had anticipated.

"Those strange four-legged zombies, like the one that we executed, they cannot climb, can they?"

"Why the hell would you want to know that Tak?" Dempsey roared, obviously very impatient with the situation. "In case you hadn't noticed, we have a few more important things to worry about—"

Dempsey was suddenly interrupted by the sound of shattering glass as the large pane that separated the projector room from the main auditorium was suddenly destroyed. Through the now gaping hole, a few gas zombies jumped through, their sharp claws having allowed them to grip onto the walls and climb up to their level from the auditorium floor.

"That is why I asked," Takeo said plainly.

"Damn it!" Dempsey bellowed, slinging the newly Pack-a-Punched Wunderwaffe from his shoulder and taking aim. With a burst of light, electricity shot from the weapon and arced into the first gas zombie. The electricity did not stop, however, and proceeded to jump from the first gas zombie to the second one that had come through the window. The bolt then jumped to the projector, which exploded from the overflow of current, then jumped to another gas zombie that had just begun to climb into the room.

The bolt than arced further into the auditorium and out of sight, likely jumping into more zombies by the sounds of agony that could be heard below. As for the gas zombies that had been initially fried, Richtofen noticed with satisfaction that they did not explode. As he admired further, Dempsey cursed again and ran over to the window.

"Nikolai, get off your commie ass and help me hold these things off!"

"For once, Dempsey, Nikolai thinks your American bravado may be useful," the Russian laughed as he joined the marine at the window, sticking his shotgun out through the hole and firing at any gas zombies that attempted to enter. His Pack-a-Punched shotgun was more than up to the task, its usual loud boom being replaced by a higher pitched blasting noise, and the usually white-hot muzzle flash being dyed a deeper shade of red.

As for the zombies still outside the door, Richtofen could see that the wooden structure was on its last legs. Cracks began to run long and deep through the arbor, and as they grew further, large chunks began to rip free from the bulk of the door. The zombies, in their ever-insatiable hunger, forced their arms through the gaps in an attempt to grab at both Takeo and Richtofen, but with careful aim, Richtofen fired through the holes with his pistol. The Pack-a-Punched rounds tore through zombie flesh as though it were nothing, splattering the outer hallway with blood as the zombies at the front died first.

Unfortunately, for every zombie that died, two more took their place, and even though Richtofen and Takeo dropped them as fast as possible, the truth was that it was only a matter of seconds before the zombies breached the door and flooded into the projector room.

"You got a plan, doc?!" Dempsey called out as he fired the Wunderwaffe into an approaching cluster of gas zombies on the wall. "You're not just waiting until the last minute to be dramatic, right?"

"Dempsey, if your wretched voice is going to be the last thing I ever hear, I am going to be VERY UNHAPPY!" Richtofen yelled back. As if in time with Richtofen's outburst, the hinges on the doorframe finally gave, and the zombies began to push their way into the room, only slowed by the combined efforts of all four of them as they held the horde back with a wall of gunfire.

"Our honor is running out!" Takeo yelled as they were forced to backpedal into the room, giving up ground as they did so.

"Where is my Vodka?!" Nikolai yelled. "I will not die without it!"

Suddenly, an almost ear-splitting bang resounded over the sounds of gunfire and demented screaming. Each of the group members flinched in response to the noise but held up their positions as best as the could. There were a few more moments of frantic struggle as Richtofen and Takeo attempted to hold their ground against the zombies, and then, as if by magic, the strength of the horde waned as the four of them started to kill more zombies than were pouring in through the doorway. It was as though much of the horde had suddenly lost interest and had turned their attention elsewhere, causing fewer and fewer to come after the four survivors.

Bit by bit, the four of them pushed back the tide, clearing the zombies from the projector room and successfully bottlenecking them at the doorway and window. Despite the ringing in his ears, Richtofen could distinctly hear the sounds of gunfire that came from somewhere besides this room. Was…was someone else inside the theater?

"Nikolai!" Richtofen ordered, whipping around to face the Russian. "Hold the doorway!"

Nikolai nodded and took Richtofen's place in helping Takeo fend off the encroaching zombies. Once he was in position, Richtofen sprinted to the shattered window that opened into the auditorium and stuck his head out.

Down below, drawing a sea of zombies toward it, was a figure that Richtofen had never seen before. Encased entirely in a heavy suit of dark green armor, the figure darted back and forth between the zombies, wielding a double-barreled shotgun that was strong enough to tear through multiple zombies with a single shot.

Judging from the way that the figure moved, Richtofen had no choice but to conclude that whatever was beneath the armor was not human, or at least a standard human, as this creature moved with a fluidity and speed that no human could ever achieve.

Was this another product of Maxis's experiments? What was this…this…Übermensch that tore through the undead as though they were tissue paper?

Curious, Dempsey stuck his head out of the window as well, his eyes curiously checking out the newcomer below.

"Fuck yeah! Now that's more like it!" Dempsey roared as more and more zombies tried and failed to overwhelm the creature. Glancing around, Richtofen noticed with a hint of surprise that the zombie horde had all but forsaken the four of them, and had now focused solely on the creature below, throwing themselves ferally at the humanoid in an attempt to kill it.

As there were now no more zombies attempting to get into the projector room, both Takeo and Nikolai joined Dempsey and Richtofen at the window, watching in awe as one lone figure held its own against the undead masses.

"The fuck are we still doing up here?!" Dempsey said, vigorously reloading the Wunderwaffe and turning away from the window. "That guy may be a badass, but we can't let him have all of the fun!"

"The greatest battle is the one that you do not fight Dempsey," Takeo warned.

Dempsey paused for a moment, then glared stone-faced at Takeo.

"That may be the most bullshit thing you have ever said, Tak. I'm just going to pretend like I didn't heard that."

"Nikolai is inclined to agree with American, which is definitely shocking," Nikolai slurred. "The sooner we get the peace and quiet from zombies, the sooner I can nurse this headache."

"Then it is agreed!" Richtofen chimed in with his sing-song voice. "We will get down there and help our timely savior. It is only polite after all."

Takeo stood silently for a moment in contemplation, then sighed.

"…It would be very dishonorable to let another fight our battles for us…"

"Damn right, it would! Now come on!"

Leading the way, Dempsey led the charge back out into the hallway and down the stairs leading to the auditorium, Wunderwaffe at the ready.

Kicking open the door, the four of them joined the fray, systemically picking off zombies while their unknown savior kept their attention. While Richtofen had only agreed to help the strange, armored figure in order to get a closer look at it, he did note with a degree of giddiness that it was a lot easier to shoot the zombies when they weren't charging at you. Compared to what he had faced in the past, Richtofen felt the encounter to be akin to child's play, as it was simply the matter of shooting the zombies without the added stress of attempting to ward them off or hold them back.

All in all, the bulk of the horde was devastated in under two minutes, with only a few stragglers remaining at the end to be finished off by the stranger's armored boot.

As soon as silence fell once again in the theater, it was immediately broken once again by Dempsey, who stomped forward with child-like enthusiasm towards the armored figure.

"Oo-fuckin'-rah, brother! I haven't had that much fun since boot camp! Give me some!"

Dempsey held up his hand expectantly, but the figure made no move to return the gesture. Its faceless visor looked hard at Dempsey for a moment, then held up its own hand in acknowledgement.

"Hell yeah!" Dempsey said as he high fived the strange figure. "It's about time I met someone a little more like-minded!"

The figure then turned its attention to the other three members of the group, its gaze lingering on Richtofen the longest. Its expressionless stare made the doctor mildly uneasy, as he could not help but decipher a feeling of resentment emanating from the figure towards him. If Richtofen were to guess, he would wager that the source of the figure's discontentment was in regard to the mad doctor's uniform, which was still a remnant of his time as a Nazi officer.

There was another moment of silence, then a voice from somewhere within the suit spoke up.

"Hello," it said in a cool and polite tone. "I am VEGA."

…

"Wait a minute…Nikolai is confused. You say that you are not the man inside suit, but rather a robot man that exists in suit?"

"That is a rudimentary method of perceiving my existence, Nikolai Belinski, but it is not incorrect."

"Ah, good!" Nikolai said proudly. "So now all is explained!"

Across from Nikolai, Richtofen gave a bemused clap of his hands towards the Russian. After VEGA had told them his story, the doctor was quite amused but not necessarily surprised that Nikolai chose to address the most mundane of topics that VEGA had presented thus far.

"While I am always glad to see your meager appetite for the truth be satiated, Nikolai, I am afraid that I have a few more questions of my own to ask our new friends, like these numerous dimensions that you have traversed and the technology that powers such transportation."

The Doom Slayer gave Richtofen a sidelong glance, once again making the made doctor feel extremely uneasy. It was as though the Slayer was contemplating killing him every single time he looked his way.

"Relax, doc," Dempsey said with a laugh. "All you need to know is that this guy ain't from around here. And that's sure as shit the truth because Treyarch ain't nearly cool enough to create something like him!"

Richtofen frowned at Dempsey's incoherent rambling but dismissed it in favor of pushing the conversation forward.

"Charming as he is, Dempsey, I cannot suppress my natural desire to learn more. I am a doctor, after all. Such curiosity is in my blood."

"I am afraid that our time here must remain short, Dr. Richtofen," VEGA's calm voice sounded from within the suit. "We cannot afford to stay long in each dimension we arrive in."

The gears in Richtofen's head began to turn rapidly as he thought of a plan on the spot.

"Ooh, that is too bad! And I was so certain that you and your little Slayer friend would have made such fast friends with our group!"

The Doom Slayer eyed Richtofen once again.

"B-but before you go, perhaps Dempsey and the others could take you to visit the Pack-a-Punch? Or perhaps get you a nice and shiny new weapon from the mystery box? I think you'll find the experiences rather rewarding!"

At Richtofen's suggestion, Dempsey notably perked up.

"Oh yeah! You gotta try that Pack-a-Punch machine! It'll blow your mind, brother!"

The prospect of upgrading his arsenal seemed to entice the Slayer, as Richtofen knew it would. A creature of war such as he was always looking for an edge over his opponent.

"Ah very good! Wunderbar!" Richtofen exclaimed. "While you three show our guest around, I will begin work on the teleporter. We will need some way to get out of here, after all!"

With agreement from all parties, the Doom Slayer followed Dempsey, Takeo, and Nikolai as they led him out of the auditorium. Once they had rounded the corner and were out of earshot, Richtofen let a small but maniacal giggle escape from his mouth.

"Oh VEGA…" he mused to himself as he scavenged some tools and approached the teleporter. "You and your brute have left quite the impression on me. So much so, in fact, that I think I will keep you both as my pets! We are going to have so much fun together…"

With another vile laugh, Richtofen began working on the teleporter, adjusting the complex machine to his liking as he put his scheme into action.

…

"And here it is, baby!" Dempsey exclaimed, gesturing with his hands to the long, glowing crate that was known as the Mystery Box. "We ever run out of ammo, or just get board of the guns we use, we give this ol' baby a kick…"

As he spoke, Dempsey gave a solid kick to the front of the crate, and almost immediately, the top of the box flipped open, with a myriad of firearms flashing rapidly in the space above.

"…the Box cycles through them all…"

Dempsey spoke louder over the nursery-like jingle that the box played as weapon after weapon flashed in and out of existence.

"…and finally…"

The cycling of weapons began to slow down in time with the jingle, and then they both abruptly ended, a single weapon materializing and hovering above the open box. Dempsey instantly recognized the weapon as a shotgun, and with eager hands, he plucked it out of the air and showed it to the Doom Slayer.

"…we get a brand new boomstick!"

"I am curious as to how this device operates," VEGA inquired. "I have never seen technology that is capable of such a function."

"The Mystery Box remains a mystery," Takeo said with a shake of his head. "I fear it may be the work of demons…"

"Nikolai has always found that it is best not to ask questions. Life is much more simpler that way!" the drunk Russian added as he patted Takeo on the shoulder.

"Trust me," Dempsey said in agreement with his comrades. "I doubt even that Kraut doctor knows how the hell this thing works. But enough nerd talk. Give it a spin, Slayer!"

The Slayer said nothing, as per his usual response. Stepping forward, the armored juggernaut gave the Box a hard quick with his boot, and like before, the top flipped open displaying the flashing weapons and playing its jingle like before. When it finally stopped, something different than a gun appeared. In its place floated a small animatronic monkey with cymbals in its hands and C4 strapped to its back. The Slayer stared at the monkey for a moment, then reached out and plucked the toy from the air, causing the box to shut once more.

"Ah, you are very lucky, comrade Slayer! Monkey bombs are great for distraction!" Nikolai said jovially.

The Slayer stared at him with a hint of confusion.

"What Nik is trying to say…" Dempsey offered. "…is that these little guys are perfect for luring freak bags. Something about its little song and dance just seems to irk the undead like no other. All you gotta do is wind this sucker up, toss him somewhere far, and watch the fireworks!"

Dempsey's explanation seemed to be enough for the Slayer, and he nodded gratefully before tucking the monkey away.

"You received no firearm," Takeo said. "Perhaps another spin will provide one?"

The Slayer seemingly agreed with the man's suggestion, and with another kick, the Box came to life once more. Suddenly, the myriad of weapons disappeared, and in its place, a torn and beaten teddy bear materialized. A childish laugh suddenly boomed outward from the box, and the crate immediately lifted into the air and shot through the roof, causing large chunks of wood and drywall to rain down from the ceiling as it blasted through.

"Damn it!" Dempsey said irritably as he brushed the dust from his sleeves. "I hate it when that happens!"

"If I may ask," VEGA said. "Does this "Mystery Box" of yours commonly jettison itself at random?"

"It is sporadic in its plight," Takeo said affirmingly. "It gives us just enough to survive, then abandons us as though playing a twisted and dishonorable game."

"I am curious as to what conditions precipitated the events of this Earth," VEGA said. "From what data I have collected thus far, I assume that it exists in the mid-twentieth century, but the presence of reanimated corpses and strange phenomena such as the Mystery Box leave room for doubt. Perhaps you could help fill in the gaps in my data?"

"In truth, Nikolai remembers almost nothing of life before zombies. Only that I had many horrible wives and a house somewhere in Motherland. But other than that, strange flashes and needles."

"Shoddy memory seems to be a common theme for all of us except the doc," Dempsey said, crossing his arms as he did so. "All I know is that I was a marine, and a damn good one too."

"I have no thoughts other than serving the Emperor," Takeo said. "I am happy to know that I was of service to Japan, but I am saddened that I do not remember my family."

"Next thing any of us remember, Richtofen woke us up in some sort of science lab over in Germany. Bastard didn't tell us much, but he said that there's some little girl controlling the zombies from the Moon, and that he needed our help to stop her. He's not really too keen on talking about much else."

VEGA was quiet for the briefest of moments.

"I see…"

…

Richtofen heard the sound of the Mystery Box leaving from somewhere inside the theater and began working at a much faster pace. The strange A.I. had told him that the dimensional technology that had sent them here existed inside the Doom Slayer's suit. If Richtofen could tap into the same frequency by using the teleporter, he could theoretically tap into the suit's teleportation mechanism. By doing that, he could send the Slayer anywhere he wanted, or keep him trapped in place! Richtofen's smile grew as he continued to modify the teleporter, gleefully thinking of the multiple uses he could find for a specimen such as the Slayer.

…

All were silent as the Slayer laid eyes on the Pack-a-Punch machine for the first time. Its unique glow was likely quite a sight for someone who had never seen it before.

"When you are ready, offer your weapon to the machine. With its power, it will grant superior honor to those it finds worthy," Takeo said.

"So, basically just stick your gun in there and watch the magic," Dempsey clarified.

The Slayer paused in contemplation for a moment, then produced a weapon which none of the three had ever seen before. It had all of the characteristics of an assault rifle, but it was different in the fact that it was quite large and looked extremely heavy. Their attention was quickly drawn to the bayonet, however, as instead of a standard blade, the front of the weapon sported a chainsaw that ran over the front grip.

"Ok, now that is bad ass," Dempsey said in awe, his eyes running up and down the chainsaw portion of the rifle.

The Slayer obviously seemed to agree, and after a moment of studying the front of the Pack-a-Punch, inserted the large rifle into the slot. At first, it looked as though the weapon would not even fit through the slot at all due to its size, but then the machine began to glow brighter as it accepted the weapon and began its augmenting process. Once it concluded, the weapon reappeared and dropped into the Slayer's awaiting hands.

Like any Pack-a-Punched weapon, the rifle's look had changed greatly, showcasing the same ridged pattern on all of its metallic components while simultaneously looking brand new. The main change to the weapon, however, came in the form of its chainsaw bayonet. Now, instead of a single blade, two parallel chainsaw blades were featured along its foregrip. Upon closer inspection, one could see that the teeth on the chains were far more jagged than standard chainsaw teeth, and that they were now composed of some white material that none of them recognized.

Sensing the Slayer's eagerness to try out his new weapon, the three of them continued to watch with interest as the Slayer firmly grabbed a handle on the side of the weapon and pulled back hard. The chainsaw bayonet roared to life in response with a sound louder than any of them expected. And as the Doom Slayer revved the bayonet, the chains spun rapidly at near blinding speed.

"Interesting," VEGA said aloud as the Slayer stopped the bayonet and cut the engine. "Judging from the sound structure and loudness of the bayonet, I would conclude that its standard piston-based engine has been swapped with a rotary engine, which offers many benefits as to the saw's cutting power."

"As if that thing could get any more awesome!" Dempsey said with a laugh. "I think I just found the new number one item on my Christmas list!"

"Wait a minute," Nikolai said. "Robot voice, you say you go around and help people in different universes?"

"While that is not our main objective, The Doom Slayer and I do lend what aid we can before attempting once more to return to our original dimension."

"Ah! Then Nikolai has great idea! You take some perky sodas with you! Those people you help may get thirsty and not have anything to drink. Personally, I cannot even imagine a place where there is no vodka, but nonetheless, you should take some with you!"

"A fine idea, Nikolai," Takeo said with a nod. "Perhaps our own good deeds will come back to us in the future."

With everyone in agreement, Dempsey opened up his sack of Perk-a-Colas and transferred a majority of them to the Doom Slayer who accepted them with a nod of his head.

"I would hope that we are not depleting your resources," VEGA said. "While your gesture is indeed charitable, it would be fruitless to weaken you in favor of others."

"Don't sweat it, ya' weird tin-can ghost," Dempsey said dismissively. "Those soda machines never run out. Believe me, I've drank more Juggernog than I care to admit."

"Tank Dempsey, would I be correct in stating that both this "Pack-a-Punch" and these "Perk-a-Colas" possess the same enigmatic origins as the Mystery Box?"

"You know it. And if I'm being honest, I've got a suspicion that Richtofen knew about these things before we did."

"The secretive nature of Dr. Richtofen would lead me to believe that he is untrustworthy. It seems as though he is hiding sensitive information from the three of you."

Dempsey snorted in response.

"I would say I trust that fuckin' kraut about as far as it could throw him, but I could probably throw him pretty far. Either way, we know for sure that there's something he's not telling us."

"I see," VEGA replied. "Perhaps the Slayer and I could assist in uncovering the truth."

"Nikolai likes your thinking, strange robot! Though I probably won't remember this conversation in a few hours, it would still be nice to fill in a few gaps in my memory."

…

'Yes…Yes…Yes!' Richtofen thought gleefully himself as he placed the finishing touches on his modifications to the teleporter. As of this moment, the teleporter had been fully converted to suit Richtofen's needs. Using the scanning portion of the teleporter's hardware, Richtofen had successfully managed to lock onto the signal of the equipment within the Doom Slayer's suit. By tweaking the machine's function, Richtofen was certain that if he were to activate the teleporter now, he could effectively freeze the Doom Slayer in place by hijacking the systems within his suit. The science involved amplifying the scanner portion of the teleporter until it could see everything within a room. With that in mind, it would scan until it locked in on a similar dimensional frequency, and then hijack it remotely, giving the user complete control. All the Slayer had to do was stand close enough when it activated, and then viola. Richtofen could effectively freeze him in place, giving him an opportunity to inspect his "Praetor Suit" up close.

Richtofen was about to celebrate his completion of the project with a loud laugh when he suddenly heard footsteps behind him. Turning around, the mad doctor feigned mock surprise to see the other three members of his group returning with the Doom Slayer.

"Ah! Just in time!" Richtofen said, pressing his hands together happily. "Tell me! How was the tour? Oh, I do hope you picked up a few good souvenirs!"

"Yeah, and you know what else, doc? We got around to doing a bit of talking, and we think it's time you told us what's really going on here…" Dempsey said antagonistically.

"Why, me? Keep secrets?" Richtofen said innocently. "What could I possibly gain in keeping secrets from you?"

"It is time for the truth to reveal be revealed, Doctor," Takeo said, drawing his weapon to his hands. "We must know the cause of the outbreak, and what happened to our memories."

Richtofen was about to say more, but the words died in his throat as the Doom Slayer grabbed him firmly by the neck and slammed him against the side of the teleporter. The Slayer then held him there by the neck, his grip uncomfortably tight but not enough to cause Richtofen to suffocate.

"Ack!" the mad doctor coughed, fruitlessly trying to break the Slayer's grip. "What is the meaning of this?!"

"I would suggest you start talking, German," Nikolai said. "You don't want to go out like my second wife, choking against a wall."

Richtofen struggled for another brief moment, then stopped and stared at each member of the group in turn. Given the looks in their eyes, and the intensity emanating from behind the Slayer's faceplate, Richtofen knew he had to come up with a plan fast. All he needed to do was stall them for just a little bit.

"Very well, then!" Richtofen said, breaking the intense silence with an untimely happy tone. "Of course, I will tell you all everything that I know! In all honestly, I am surprised that it has taken you this long to ask!"

Richtofen was lying, and for some unexplainable reason, the mad doctor knew that the Doom Slayer was not fooled by his words. Slowly moving his hand over to the nearby control panel, Richtofen discretely drew closer to the button to activate the teleporter. With a single press of the button, the teleporter would hijack his tether frequency, locking him into a single dimensional point. Once the Slayer was frozen in place, Richtofen would have to somehow find a way to incapacitate his former test subjects. Unfortunately, they all had their weapons at the ready, while doctor's pistol was sitting in the holster on his hip. There was no way he could draw fast enough to shoot the three of them before the killed him. He needed to buy more time to consider his options.

In that moment, a blood-chilling howl pierced the stillness of the auditorium air, heralding the arrival of a well-known enemy to all except the Doom Slayer.

"Uh, everyone else heard that, right?" Nikolai asked, his drunken slur momentarily forgotten at the sudden gravity of the situation.

"Höllenhunde," Richtofen said spitefully, secretly grateful that the creatures had chosen this moment to arrive.

"I am detecting multiple heat signatures entering the building via temporal anomalies," VEGA said. "Their life signs are unique and extremely powerful."

"Yep, those are Hellhounds, alright," Dempsey said. "One of the hardest fucking things on this planet to kill."

"The creatures glide through space, and hunt for the souls of the living," Takeo added gravely.

Giving Richtofen a hard look, the Doom Slayer slowly relinquished his grip around the doctor's neck, stepping back and drawing a fascinating rifle with two chainsaw blades for bayonets. Recognizing the pattern of ridges along the frame, Richtofen gave the Slayer a demented smile.

"Ah! I see someone made good use of the Pack-a-Punch!"

The Slayer said nothing.

By instinct, the five of them slowly formed up into a defensive circle, their previously tense moment overruled by the far more dangerous matter at hand. Richtofen drew his pistol as more and more howls began to join in with the first, echoing into an unholy chorus as they grew louder and louder.

"Their pack undoubtably has our scent now," Richtofen said. "We will have to dispose of all of the little doggies, or they will endlessly hunt us."

As if on cue, multiple bolts of lightning flashed into the auditorium. Where the bolts struck, a demonic hellhound appeared, their glowing red eyes immediately locked on the five humans in the center of the room. Their fur was dyed black as night, with the only color difference being found on their snouts, where the flesh had been completely burned away. Their starched white bone stood out as a reminder of their undead nature, with rows of razor-sharp teeth in full view due to their lack of flesh around their mouths.

As if their appearance was not odious enough, each hound that appeared was also wreathed in unholy fire, the flames lapping up their sides and whirling between their teeth as they growled and barked. It was as though the undying fires were burning within them as well as on them.

Slowly, more and more hellhounds arrived within the auditorium, circling the group slowly with malicious intent. They all growled and gnashed their teeth at their prey, but none had made a move yet, it was as though they were awaiting a command from a superior.

"Something here is not right…" Takeo said suspiciously. "I have never seen the hellion hounds behave this way before."

"Indeed," Richtofen said, narrowing his eyes in a mixture of interest and antagonism at the hounds nearest to him. "They are not as feral as the ones we have encountered in the past. They have a greater pack mentality, almost as if they are following orders…"

The answer suddenly clicked in Richtofen's brain, and his eyes widened in surprise at the thought.

"There must be an alpha!" he said hurriedly. "The hounds are taking orders from one of their own!"

As if to confirm Richtofen's hypothesis, a deeper and far more powerful howl sounded from somewhere in the theater, and as one, the hounds suddenly charged in, their teeth bared and chomping for flesh and blood.

A split second later, the closest of the beasts were blasted to shreds as the five humans opened fire, their Pack-a-Punched weapons proving to be more than a match for the tough hides of the demon dogs.

The sight of their fallen pack-mates seemed to do little to deter the rest of the hounds, and they continued their advance with no reservation, pressing in on all sides with feral intensity. Despite the practiced precision of all parties present, it was becoming obvious that the hounds were gaining ground. Their sheer numbers were enough to withstand their losses, and their fearless animal instinct gave them no notion of retreat.

"Getting a little too close for comfort here!" Dempsey said angrily as he blasted apart a hellhound that had lunged for his neck. As if in response to Dempsey's statement, Richtofen turned to hear the sound of the Doom Slayer revving his chainsaw bayonet to life, the noise of the engine somehow carrying over the barking of the hounds and the crack of Pack-a-Punched weaponry.

Turning back to face the horde, Richtofen cursed when he realized that his momentary distraction had been enough for the hounds to take advantage of. By sheer instinct, Richtofen raised his arm just in time to intercept a hellhound as it jumped for his throat. The demon's fangs clamped down hard on Richtofen's appendage, and had the doctor not ingested Juggernog a little bit earlier, his arm would have been snapped in half by the creature's bite strength.

"Gah!" Richtofen seethed angrily, drawing his knife and plunging it deep into the hound's neck. "Don't you dare touch the doctor! I am not your chew toy!"

The hound gave a whimper of pain before falling limp as the doctor twisted the knife to deepen the wound. After one last desperate struggle, the hound fell to the floor, allowing Richtofen to pull his now blood-soaked knife from its hide.

Taking a brief moment to examine the blade, Richtofen felt a familiar sense of excitement well up within him.

"Well, that was…erotic," he said slyly as he sheathed his knife and fired once more upon the hellhounds.

On his flank, the Doom Slayer was now on the move, moving with blinding speed to cut down the hellhounds with his chainsaw bayonet. The twin blades seemed to have no issues at all sawing through the tough composition of the hounds. Whatever material constituted the teeth of the saws was gliding through their flesh as though it was barely there.

In that moment, the tide turned, and the remaining hellhounds were very quickly disposed of as their formation broke. The hounds' inability to retreat worked against them now, as they ineffectually continued to throw themselves at the team, killing themselves in the process.

As the last hound died under the Slayer's boot, another flash of lightning filled the auditorium, this one more forceful than the rest. When the light faded, Richtofen stared in awe as the largest hellhound he had ever seen arose from the floor. It's appearance, while generally similar to the other hounds they had just fought, was far more menacing, as in addition to its incredible size, the demonic creature also displayed a great number of scars seared across its fiery fur. Its fangs were grotesquely long, and its eyes seemed to grow even redder than those its smaller counterparts.

"Oхуе́ть…" Nikolai said in awe of the creature. "I think I might be drunker than usual."

"Your eyesight ain't broken, Nik," Dempsey replied. "That is one big sqaug."

The hound gave a low growl and slowly began to walk forward, the flames on its hide adding to its ominous stride. Its eyes were locked solely on the Doom Slayer as it drew closer, obviously singling him out of the group.

"The creature has been shamed," Takeo said prophetically. "It looks to restore its dignity by striking down the one who has killed its comrades."

"Oh, how exciting!" Richtofen exclaimed cheerily. "The alpha hund wants to have a chivalrous little duel with our new friend!"

Seizing his opportunity, Richtofen slowly inched back towards the console on the teleporter, hovering his hand over the activation button. This had turned out far better than even he could have planned for. The alpha's arrival had proven fortuitous, as now everyone was distracted save for the doctor.

Richtofen, of course, had no doubt that the Slayer would emerge victorious from their little spat, but the moment that he did, Richtofen would flip the switch, freezing the pesky juggernaut in place and removing his threat to the doctor entirely. Then it would be a very simple task for Richtofen to kill off his former test subjects while they were surprised.

In truth, the mad doctor felt a bit of regret at killing them so soon. Well, except for Dempsey of course. Their reluctant companionship had been quite charming in Richtofen's opinion, but if the doctor was to continue with his plans, then some sacrifices needed to be made.

Richtofen then realized that he was spacing off and shook his head to focus back into the present. There would be time to lament his choices later, but for now, he might as well enjoy the show.

In a flash, the alpha hellhound leapt forward, closing the distance between the Slayer and itself in a fraction of a second. It was immediately obvious that the creature possessed a far greater prowess than its lesser counterparts, and for the briefest of moments, Richtofen felt his confidence in the Slayer falter in the presence of its nearly untraceable speed.

He was quickly reminded, however, that despite however fast the alpha hound was, the Doom Slayer was faster. The rifle in his hands was aimed and fired before the hound had even closed half the distance, the Pack-a-Punched rounds already on a surefire course to the beast's heart.

In another bright flash, lightning suddenly struck the hound midair, and when the bolt faded, the hound had disappeared. The bullets continued harmlessly through the space that the alpha had occupied an instant earlier and buried themselves into the auditorium wall beyond. Simultaneously, another bolt struck behind the Slayer, the alpha hound rematerializing at the impact point. Without wasting any time, the hound leapt again, this time from a much closer distance than before and to the Slayer's exposed flank.

Richtofen's eyes boggled. He had never seen a hound utilize such developed tactics before. The alpha had known of the Slayer's speed and had feinted a frontal attack to provoke a response. The Slayer had taken the bait, and the hound had teleported behind him at the last second to attack from behind. To call the mad doctor shocked was a complete understatement.

To him, the alpha's feint had appeared to be successful, but their astonishment grew even further still, as without turning around, the Slayer removed one hand from his rifle and caught the alpha by the throat, stopping the beast mid-air with its fangs barely an inch from his helmet.

The beast gnashed its teeth in an attempt to close the distance between them as the Slayer's head slowly turned to face it once more. Whether he had guessed the alpha's tactics from the very beginning or had simply been fast enough to react to it, Richtofen would never know, but just by watching the Doom Slayer in action, the mad doctor would not be surprised if it had been both.

The alpha hound suddenly whimpered and began to thrash wildly as the Slayer began to crush its windpipe in his gauntleted fist. His strength was overpowering, and all who were present knew that the outcome of this battle was now inevitable. There was no chance that the hell hound could escape the Slayer's grasp, and now it had no choice but to die as the Slayer clenched his fist tighter.

A sadistic smile fell over Richtofen's features as he watched the events unfold, his hand dropping towards the button as he did so.

Just a little bit more…

…

Choking in the Slayer's grip, the alpha knew in its bestial mind that it had run out of options. It was going to die here, unable to avenge the death of its fallen brethren. The truth of that reality settled in the hound's mind, provoking one final desperate act of self-preservation as it did so.

Summoning its power over space itself, lightning flashed once more within the auditorium, striking the alpha and causing it to slip through dimensional space like it had numerous times before. However, unlike the numerous other times the alpha had teleported, the lightning did not stop with at the hound. Instead, it surged from the beast's body, jumping onto the Praetor Suit and syncing with the same frequency utilized by the tether system. The system immediately responded, activating its components and thrusting the suit and its occupants into dimensional space as well, casting them out of this reality with a flash of blue light and a loud bang.

…

Richtofen froze, his fingers resting lightly on the activation button. He stared, speechless, as silence fell once again throughout the theater.

The hellhound was gone…

…and so was the Doom Slayer.

As usual, the silence was broken by Dempsey.

"Uh…anyone wanna tell me what the hell just happened?!"

"One second, two souls were locked in struggle, then the next, cast into oblivion…" Takeo mused in his usual proverbed speech.

Nikolai said nothing for a moment, as his lips were currently busy taking a long pull from his bottle. After swallowing deeply, the Russian sighed, looking at the bottle fondly.

"Ahhh…Nikolai is going to need every last drop of this after day I've had…"

Turning and facing Richtofen, the Russian raised an eyebrow questioningly at the infuriated expression he saw.

"Uh…German? You know what just happened here?"

Richtofen knew exactly what had just happened here. The alpha hellhound had done the exact same thing Richtofen had attempted, the only difference being that the creature had done it accidentally and with different results. Hijacking the tether system's frequency had been Richtofen's plan since meeting the Slayer, but now that neither him nor his A.I. were in this dimension, the mad doctor's plan was worthless.

Realizing that all eyes were upon him, Richtofen swallowed his rage and took a deep breath. As of now, his plans had changed once again, and the best he could do was adapt.

"No, Nikolai. I am afraid our new friend's disappearance is as much a mystery to me as it is to you. But there is nothing we can do about it now, so let's focus on the task at hand."

The cocking of a shotgun stopped Richtofen in his tracks, and he raised an eyebrow questioningly at Dempsey, who had been the source of the noise.

"I couldn't agree more, doc. And if I remember correctly, you were about to fill us in on what we've been missing out on. Sound about right, fellas?"

"Indeed," Takeo said, bringing his weapon at the ready. "The secrets of the shadows must be brought to light."

Nikolai fumbled with his bottle for a moment, then balanced it in one hand while readying his own gun in the other.

"What they said," he slurred.

Once again, Richtofen had been put on the spot. Thinking rapidly, the doctor once again revised his plan, smiling inwardly as he did so.

So, his reluctant comrades wanted to hear the truth?

Well, then who was he to withhold it from them?

He would give them all of the truth their little minds could take.

However, who was to say that the truth had to be entirely…truthful? After all, it wasn't as though they had any methods of fact-checking the doctor's words. He was entirely free to spin whatever web he desired.

"Tell me, mein curious friends…"

"…what do you know of the periodic table of elements? Or to be more specific…"

"…Element 115?"

Notes:

A/N: Alright, explanation time. As I said before, nothing bad happened to me, so please don't worry about my health and/or safety, I am never better in both regards! What DID happen, I'm afraid, is that the ugly side of my impulsive nature reared its ugly head. It is not that I lost interest in this story. It is that I gained interest in something else. As a result...i went and impulsively did that other thing for a while, as it was new and fun. Unfortunately, I realized how incredibly selfish that was of me, as I didn't even have the decency to tell my readers where I had gone, I just up and left like a jerk. So, please know that from the bottom of my heart, I am sorry. That being said, however, I would like to warn everyone that I cannot set a consistent chapter schedule right now, so there may be long periods between chapters. One thing that I would like all of you to know, however, is that I have no plans on quitting this story. This story will only end after I have achieved the vision I have for it, or until I am dead. And I am not dead yet.

Now then, about the chapter itself! This is one that I wanted to write for quite a while, but unfortunately with my long and unintended break, I realized just how perishable a skill writing is. So hopefully I haven't managed to ruin your experience with my greatly regressed writing prowess. I have loved COD: Zombies since I first played World at War at my buddy's house, and Kino is arguably one of my favorite maps of the entire franchise. The map is fun, and it's got my favorite perks (minus Deadshot Daiquiri), so writing this chapter was a bit of a guilty pleasure. But the real question here is what to do with the hell hound? I obviously have considered the possibility of...developing that part a little bit, but I am still unsure, which is why I want to see what you guys think! As always, please feel free to leave a review detailing your hatred for my absence and how you curse my name every night before you go to bed. All kinds of criticism are welcome! Until next time!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 34: Local 58

Notes:

A/N: Hello again everyone! I hope no one missed me too much! As you've probably guessed, I have returned with another thrilling addition to the story! This chapter has our fearless Slayer and co. arriving in the twisted media that is Local 58, so don't change that channel! For those who are unfamiliar, Local 58 is a youtube channel with short but highly well-done and entertaining horror videos told through the format of television broadcasts. I personally love them to pieces, so I would definitely recommend them to you all, though it is not necessary to be familiar with them to read this chapter. Please enjoy and remember that I own nothing!

Jackie warily complied with the instructions given to her by the GPS system within her dashboard. The feminine metallic voice held the same monotonous edge that it always did, but tonight, that sense of familiarity did little to comfort the young woman. Right now, the voice was the only thing that could possibly lead Jackie to some answers, or at least help her try to understand what was happening around here.

"Turn right onto North 38th Street," the GPS recited, prompting Jackie to look around some more to try and get her bearings. She tried to take some comfort in the fact that she was still in a part of town that she was familiar with, but in truth, she was only growing more and more nervous by the second, her anxiety flaring with the realization that what she was doing was undoubtedly dangerous and incredibly stupid.

Less than twenty-four hours ago, Jackie's life had been as plain and simple as ever. She'd been nothing more than another average girl that slaved away in the local small-town diner to pay off her student loans, working hard and studying harder. And all the while, she still found time to be hopelessly head over heels in love with her fiancée of five months, whom she'd first met in one of her sociology classes.

The two of them had hit it off after working on a school project together, and after only half a year of dating, they had spontaneously moved in together. Neither of them had quite remembered why or how they had taken such a step in their relationship so easily, but neither of them minded. The next year had flown by after that, and before they knew it, the two of them were engaged. Like her, Jackie's fiancée was nothing super extravagant, but that hardly mattered, as he was all she had ever wanted and more. The way his laughter carried across the room always made her heart skip a beat. The way his hair always fell perfectly into that neat but slightly mussed look drove her absolutely crazy. But above all of those things, none of his traits could even hold a candle to how he reciprocated Jackie's affections as a whole. Despite their busy schedules and steadfast commitment to their futures, they always made time for each other.

Always.

All of that had suddenly changed this morning when Jackie had awoken. The last thing she remembered from the night before was watching the local news station before turning in. She had only planned on watching for a little bit until her fiancée came back inside from a quick cigarette, but she remembered falling asleep rather quickly after watching a weird documentary of sorts about sleep and dreaming in humans. She couldn't recall the details of the broadcast, or really anything at all about what she had seen, but when she had awoken from an eerily dreamless sleep, she did a double take when she realized that she had slept from 9:00 P.M. the night before until 5:00 P.M. the next day!

Never before had Jackie slept that long, and after checking the times on both her phone and her watch to make sure she wasn't seeing things, a million more questions began to run through her mind as she arose from the bed.

Questions like: 'How did she suddenly manage to sleep uninterrupted for twenty-one hours?!'

And: 'Was the human body even capable of doing that?'

Her next questions came in the form of how nothing had been done to wake her during that time. Why hadn't her fiancée roused her for class at 7:00 A.M. that morning? He had not been next to her in the bed when she had woken up, so she had at least assumed that he had slept for what could be considered a normal amount of time.

Her questioning attitude that morning had been cut short, however, by the chorus of police sirens sounding in the distance. Such noises where not uncommon occurrences near and around the apartment Jackie lived in, but the sheer number of sirens had been enough to cause the girl to investigate, as it sounded as though there were at least ten sirens overlapping each other as if fighting for maximum loudness. Whatever casualty those emergency services were responding to, it must have been massive.

It was then that Jackie began to grow nervous, as in addition to the unnerving nature of the sirens outside, there was also no sign of her fiancée in the apartment. He was nowhere to be found. His school notes and backpack were all still there, and so were his wallet and a few other items. The only thing that was missing was his keys, and upon that discovery, Jackie hurried outside to find that his car was gone.

An inspection of the stall he usually parked in told Jackie that he had left with an extreme sense of urgency, as tire marks ran strongly from the stall all the way to the end of the lot. A quick glance around showed that quite a majority of cars around the lot had done the same. Almost all of the remaining cars in the lot showing signs of minor damage, likely from the other cars attempting to leave so quickly the night before.

At this point, Jackie had truly begun to panic. Her fiancée was missing, and so was his car, and the fact that he had left in a hurry without her but with apparently half of the apartment complex meant that something was definitely wrong here. That, coupled with the numerous sirens still wailing in the distance told Jackie that it was time to get help and figure out exactly what was going on here, so she ran back inside and hastily showered and dressed before grabbing a granola bar from the kitchen and running back outside with her car keys in hand.

She had no idea where to even begin looking, but she knew she had to at least start somewhere. Perhaps he was somewhere around town? Or maybe one of her work friends had seen something at the diner that could give her a place to look?

In that moment, Jackie remembered feeling slight helplessness. She had no idea what was going on, and nowhere to even begin to try and find out. She did her best to stifle the feeling as she sat down in her own car and started the engine.

After pulling out and getting onto the main road, Jackie immediately began fumbling with her phone. Her safety seminars during her college years had ingrained the number for the local police department in her mind, and she hastily dialed the number from memory before holding the phone to her ear and waiting as she continued to drive towards town.

The exhausted voice of a desk clerk eventually came through on the other end, the cop's voice indicative of a strained workday. In the background, Jackie could also hear numerous voices, a strong indicator that the station was crowded and busy. Jackie quickly told them of her situation, and it was to her absolute dread that the cop informed her that similar cases like hers had been popping up all across town, hence the hustle and bustle that could be heard in the background. It was as though nearly a third of the townsfolk had just up and left, with no notes nor signs as to where they had gone. The small police force had barely been able to keep up with all of the calls they had received so far today.

Unfortunately, with their resources spread so thin, all the cops could do at that moment was file a missing persons report for her fiancée. They promised that they'd keep an eye out for anyone matching his description but reminded her with a weary tone that there was only so much that they could do at the moment, much to Jackie's chagrin. In that moment, Jackie wasn't sure if it was the cop's tone through the line or perhaps some other factor, but something triggered a horrible thought in her mind. For the first time since finding out her fiancée was missing, Jackie briefly entertained the grave notion that she might never see him again. She hastily thanked the cop for their help in a shaky voice and barely had time to hang up before letting out a choked sob. The fact that the police were stretched so thin combined with Jackie's own feeling of helplessness made her feel like she was being crushed under a ton of concrete. Her chest suddenly became constricted, and her breathing became labored under her distress. Jackie blinked rapidly to try to keep her vision clear as tears began to form in her eyes.

" Starting route to marked destination. In half a mile, turn left onto Holbrook Park Drive."

Jackie nearly veered off the road at the sudden voice, her distressed feeling momentarily banished in her shocked state. After looking around frantically to make sure that no one else was in the car with her, Jackie frowned and noticed that the navigational assist system in her car had spontaneously booted up. Realizing that to be the culprit of the voice, Jackie attempted to access the system from the console to find it completely unresponsive. It was as though the screen had frozen in place, refusing to show Jackie the destination that it had inputted seemingly of its own accord.

Jackie's frown deepened even further in her inability to control or even turn off the system. In truth, she had only sparingly bothered to use the built-in navigational feature, as it was just so much easier to use her phone, so attempting to access the system was entirely foreign to her. She attempted to prod at the screen a few more times before dismissing it as faulty when the voice suddenly spoke again.

" In five-hundred feet, turn left on to Holbrook Park Drive."

Though it was not quite as shocking as when it had first spoke, the voice still startled Jackie a bit. Looking ahead, she could see the indicated turn rapidly approaching, giving her very little time to decide if she wanted to follow the route or not.

On one hand, the navigational system in her car was leading her to an unknown destination that it itself had selected. That observation by itself made Jackie extremely wary. On the other hand, however, Jackie remembered that her fiancée had taken his car when he had disappeared… Perhaps this strange glitch had also appeared in his car as well? Perhaps wherever the car was taking her could offer some sort of clue as to where he and seemingly half the town had been whisked away to?

Jackie knew that she should have called the police, or her friends, or someone at least and told them where she was going, but in that moment, she was not thinking straight, and the prospect of finding her fiancée was all that she could think about.

" Turn left on to Holbrook Park Drive."

Quickly making her decision, Jackie turned sharply to the left as instructed, throwing caution into the wind and trusting the voice within the system. As an afterthought, Jackie reached forward and activated the camera on her dashboard. If she could gather some video evidence from wherever she was going, maybe that could help her search. In the back of her mind, she knew what she was doing was insane, but the thought of losing her fiancée stood prominently in her mind, so she suppressed her inner voice of reason.

After making sure the camera was on and recording, the navigational voice spoke up again.

" Continue on Holbrook Park Drive, then in five-hundred feet, turn right on to North 38 th  street. You will arrive at your destination in two hours and twenty-eight minutes."

Nervously, Jackie noted that the sun was already beginning to set to her west, which meant that according to the GPS, she would not arrive at her destination until well after dark. In addition, Jackie could see heavy rainclouds moving in as well, making conditions less than desirable for the frantic girl.

Taking a brief pause to steel herself, Jackie set her jaw and reminded herself why she was doing this. When her nerves had finally calmed enough, she reached over and opened the granola bar she had grabbed earlier. Taking slow bites, Jackie listened as the GPS continued to issue directions, and she complied in return.

…

The Alpha Hellhound registered in its bestial mind that this jump felt different. It and each of its packmates had long before now become accustomed to their warping abilities, making them the deadliest of predators among the ranks of the undead. But this time, when it had attempted to jump while choking in the grasp of the one who had killed its brethren, something had been different. Its armored adversary had jumped with it, not only through space, but through the space between spaces and far beyond that of the Earth or Aether. As the hound warped through, it felt a presence slip from its mind, something that had subconsciously been commanding and directing the alpha as to where to hunt and what prey to target. Its influence had gone unnoticed by the hellhound due to it being there since birth, but now that it was disappearing, the alpha suddenly felt its mind open up as it experienced free will for the first time.

The hellhound was then jolted from its new experience as it exited the jump and landed hard on its four legs. Its vision and thoughts were murky from both the jump and its new state of mind, causing the hound to shake its head and screw its eyes shut, whining as it slowly adjusted to its new state of being. Squinting through a haze, the hound could see that it had landed in a forest of some kind, though the low light of the setting sun did little to provide more of an idea of its surroundings.

Its senses had only just finally seemed to clear when the hellhound heard a metallic crunch above its head. Looking up, the hound saw an armored creature standing above it, and recognition immediately dawned in the hound's mind as it remembered what had happened prior to the jump. This creature, more so than all the others it had been with, had killed off the alpha's entire pack, its strength and speed far greater than any other prey the hound had hunted before. In rage and grief at the loss of its kin, the alpha had stepped forward to face the creature itself, but the prowess of its foe had proven too much even for the leader of the pack, and it was only by warping away from the iron grip of its foe that the hound had evaded death.

Unfortunately, its morbid fate seemed to be inevitable now, as the hellhound gazed up to see the creature pointing its weapon directly downward, tensed and ready to finish what it had started before the jump. The hound stood motionless, knowing full well that its life was at its end. The two of them were less than a meter apart, and the hound knew the creature's reflexes well enough to know that attempting to warp would be pointless. The alpha would be dead before the teleportational lightning ever struck it.

In silence, the hound sized the creature up once more. It had first targeted this creature as prey for it and its pack, but in truth, the roles were reversed from the beginning. Despite the strength that the hellhounds possessed in their numbers, their combined vigor had proven worthless against this armored creature, which had fully established itself as a far more dangerous being. It had overcome them in every aspect, with its might only matched by its will, and had made for a quick and bloody end to all that opposed it.

The hound looked to its "face", and though it was smart enough to know that the strange helmet that stared back was not the true face of the creature, it committed the sight to memory, taking a sort of strange solace in knowing that it would meet its end at the hands of a truly superior predator.

…

The Doom Slayer watched intently as the hound looked up at him, its glowing eyes betraying the inner conflict that the former alpha felt inside. While his posture remained ready and poised, the Slayer noted that the hellhound's luminescent eyes had shifted color. Before they had left the previous universe, the orbs had glowed with a deep and malicious red, and yet now, they had dimmed to a dull amber, acting as an indication that something had changed within the creature.

Studying the hound further, the Slayer's observations confirmed his theory, as he could see that the feral mindlessness he had observed before was now gone entirely. It was as though the hellhound was seeing things clearly for the first time, and as if to confirm his theory, VEGA's voice spoke within his helmet.

"I am detecting a shift in neural activity from the hellhound. In the previous dimension, I noticed that much of their cranial activity appeared to be suppressed, as though some outside entity was commanding them, something beyond their alpha. However, now it seems that this dimension is beyond said entity's reach, giving the hellhound autonomy for the first time."

At the end of the Super Shotgun's barrel, the hound let out a low whine, then bowed its head, signaling to the Slayer that it conceded its defeat. The ever-present flames that wreathed the creature's hide extinguished as well, their absence making the hound look almost like a naturally born wolf for the first time. The only evidence of its supernatural nature remaining were its skinless snout and glowing eyes, which had closed in submission. Looking down on the creature, the Slayer considered the options before him, the sight of the hound triggering a memory from a lifetime ago. Complete stillness reigned for a moment, as though the entire forest was holding its breath, then the Slayer made his decision.

…

From within the Praetor Suit, VEGA watched with interest as the Slayer slowly lowered his weapon and shifted his stance. His gaze remained on the hellhound beneath him, who slowly raised its head back up in confusion. It took a moment for the creature to realize that it was no longer going to die, and then it too stood back up to its full height, small flames reappearing on its fur. For a few moments, the Slayer and the hellhound stared at each other, a conversation without words seemingly flowing between them. VEGA remembered well that the Slayer had held such "conversations" in the past, and he also remembered the "deeper understanding" that was reached through such means: "The bond between warriors", as it had been previously put.

The two beings seemed to come to an agreement, and the Slayer relaxed his posture even more, with the hellhound's fur alighting further in kind. It seemed, at least for the time being, that both the Slayer and VEGA had acquired a new ally in their quest, which the A.I. perceived to have no drawbacks after running numerous scenarios to determine the hound's usefulness. From the combat data that VEGA had analyzed from the previous universe's encounter with hellhounds, he had deduced that they were quite formidable in their own right, with the alpha being even more so. In addition to their extreme speed and strength, they also possessed a near-instant teleportational ability which the hound seemed to have complete mastery over. VEGA's confidence was high that it would not prove a hindrance to either him nor the Slayer due to that data, and the man within the Praetor Suit seemed to agree.

The amiable mood that had fallen over the party was quickly shattered as the three of them suddenly became aware of a distant noise that echoed through the trees. It had been faint, far too faint for normal human hearing, but each of them had more than the necessary capabilities to pick up and decipher the sound. It had been a roar, and it was because of how powerful and trumpeting it had been that gave them a reason to investigate. Being as analytical as ever, VEGA searched for a match within his knowledge base only to discover that the pitch and intensity of the roar differed greatly from any known creatures within his database of lifeforms. Such a database had been steadily growing ever since VEGA had been reactivated, and yet despite the ever-growing number of creatures added into the codex, there were always more strange and unorthodox beings to be found across the dimensions he and the Doom Slayer had found themselves in.

As usual, VEGA was not the only one to immediately take action upon hearing the strange roar. The Doom Slayer readied himself once again, and the hellhound pinned its ears back let out a low growl as the flames on its hide began to burn even brighter. Its teeth were already constantly bared due to its lack of skin around its muzzle, but VEGA knew enough about canine mannerisms to recognize the difference.

The hellhound shared a glance with the Doom Slayer, and only when the armored man gestured with a tilt of his head did it take action. There was a bright flash as lightning appeared and struck the hound, causing it to disappear as the light faded. VEGA knew with relative certainty that it had warped somewhere ahead of them, and he was proven correct as the Praetor Suit's systems registered the hound's signature approximately a kilometer ahead. Exchanging his Super Shotgun for his newly Pack-a-Punched Lancer, the Slayer cracked his neck with a tilt of his head and then started after the hound, following the source of the roar. All around them, drops of rain began to fall, slowly at first, but within a minute, a complete downpour had ensued. There was a diminished flash of light from above, and a clap of thunder rumbled throughout the forest.

…

Jackie squinted to try and see through the windshield as her wipers worked overtime to try and keep the rain off of her windshield. By now, the sun had completely set, but the overcast sky had refused to let any moonlight through, making visibility much worse in conjunction with the rain. Jackie's headlights valiantly stabbed through the rain and darkness so that she could at least see where she was going. Unfortunately, what she could see did little to fill her with hope, as she very quickly realized that wherever this GPS was taking her, it was off the beaten path. What was the name of this road again?

" In 2.8 miles, keep right to stay on Service Causeway H-516. You will arrive at your destination in fourteen minutes."

With a name like that, Jackie couldn't help but begin to feel more and more nervous as the system began to lead her further and further from civilization. The small voice in the back of her head once again began reminding her of what a terrible an idea this was, but she had come to far to back down now. Setting her jaw again, Jackie squinted into the darkness and continued to follow the road, taking at least some sort of satisfaction in the fact that the road was at least paved.

…

Lowering its nose to the floor to sniff for tracks, the hellhound expertly used its natural instincts to deduce the location of its prey. The rain had proven to be no hindrance to its natural tracking abilities, and in truth, the hound barely noticed it at all as the downpour turned to steam upon making contact with its fiery hide.

Whatever this creature they were hunting, the hellhound had its scent now, and it betrayed that this particular creature was far different than the monstrosities that roamed the Dark Aether. It had no way of knowing if it was stronger, but by how fresh the scent was, the hound could tell that it was close. Even the rain could not mask the creature's odor. With a quick look behind, the hound saw that the armored man was keeping up with it despite its teleportational abilities. The supernatural canine had begun to see that the human was just as adept if not superior when it came to tracking, and together, they had managed to close in on their prey at an unrivaled rate. It would not be long now until they came upon it, causing the thrill of the hunt to arise within the hellhound. The anticipation continued to build, almost coming to a climax when the snap of a twig through the thicket carried over the downpour.

Instinctively, the hellhound diminished its natural flame and crept low to the ground. The armored man remained upright but held his weapon at the ready and turned in the direction of the noise. He himself as silent as the grave. There was a moment of silence save for the rain, then the hound watched intently as the darkened silhouette of a large bipedal creature emerged from the thicket.

…

The heavy rain that had seemed to come from nowhere had lessened to a light drizzle as Jackie continued down the empty two-lane road. She had lost sight of any other vehicles for at least ten minutes now, making Jackie the only motorist for miles. Looking around, the lack of any lights or structures to be seen meant that she was the only sign of civilization for miles. The road she was on didn't even have telephone poles running alongside it. Jackie's heart rate began to quicken once again.

" In half a mile, turn left onto—Rerouting…"

Stunned, Jackie glanced down to the frozen screen. Was it…was it changing her destination? What the hell?

The vehicle slowed with uncertainty as Jackie waited for the system to respond, and it was only after a few more moments of tense silence that it spoke again.

" Make a U-turn."

Jackie's frown deepened at the new instructions. Had her destination changed somehow? Was it a problem with the system? The destination couldn't have just disappeared, right?

…

The hound growled deeply and tore the creature's throat from its neck, dark blood dripping from the canine's jaws as it gulped down the spoils of its hunt. In truth, taking down the prey had hardly been a challenge. The creature had been aggressive at first, angry and seemingly lusting for a kill of any kind, but the combined attacks from the hound and its new ally had overwhelmed it in less than a minute. The creature, like many other prey the hound had hunted, had not even been given an opportunity to flee under the assault, and now it laid motionless and very much dead upon the forest floor, it's antlered shoulders and sinewy limbs broken in many places, courtesy of those that had hunted it. Across from the carcass, the Doom Slayer, as the hound now knew him to be called, knelt down and examined their kill, apparently to study it. The hound watched him for a moment, then turned to tear another piece off of the monster's lifeless body. There was little meat to speak of on the creature's bony form, but the hound had not eaten since the jump to this new world, so any meal was worthwhile, regardless of how much or little there was.

The hound's chewing was then interrupted as another roar sounded through the trees, only this time from a much greater distance. The Doom Slayer lifted its gaze to the direction of the noise, then signaled to the hound with a look. Their hunt wasn't over.

…

" Turn right onto 'Unnamed Road.'"

Jackie stared blankly out the front passenger window. The thick wall trees that loomed before her was only broken by the narrow dirt path that wound into the forest and out of sight. The path was barely wide enough for her car to fit if she turned onto it, and it was at this point that the small voice within her head went ballistic. What on Earth existed within those trees that the navigation system continued to direct her towards? The rain had stopped completely a few miles back, and judging from the complete dryness of the dirt ahead, Jackie deduced that the freak storm had missed this path completely.

" Turn right onto 'Unnamed Road.'"

The voice within the system insisted once more, and the small voice within Jackie's mind screamed that if there was ever a time to turn back, this was it.

" Turn right onto 'Unnamed Road.'"

Jackie's grip on the steering wheel tightened.

No.

She wouldn't quit now. She couldn't quit now. Not when she had come so far and was so close to finding out the truth. Whatever was down that path could provide the answers she was looking for, so with gritted teeth and a titanic amount of reluctance, Jackie steered her car into the mouth of the path and drove forward.

Taking the sharp turns and hills slowly, Jackie kept her eyes sharply focused on the dirt path ahead as the navigational system spoke with new instructions.

" Continue on 'Unnamed Road' for a quarter mile. Then follow signs for: 'Do Not Enter.'"

…

VEGA mapped the creature's unorthodox footprint and continued to monitor its step pattern as they continued to follow its trail. It was a near match with that of the creature they had just killed, meaning that this new contact was likely of the same species. The hound and the Doom Slayer had no problem following in the creature's wake, and given the height of the previous creature combined with the length between footprints of this new contact, VEGA deduced that it was moving deliberately, as though it were moving towards a known destination. A destination that VEGA hoped would soon be made known.

…

" Continue on 'Unnamed Road', then in three-hundred feet, turn off your headlights."

Had Jackie not completely suppressed her common sense by now, she would have thrown her car in reverse and gotten out of there at top speed, but her sensibility had thoroughly checked out at this point, and after a few more seconds of driving, Jackie slowed to a stop. Fingering the dial on the dashboard, Jackie winked out her headlights with a soft click. The entire forest became enshrouded in darkness, with Jackie only being able to see past her own nose due to the soft glow from the navigational screen.

For a moment, all was silent save for the soft idling of the car engine. There was only darkness in both sound and sight.

Then, from outside the car came the distinctive sound of a twig snapping in the dark, and Jackie's eyes opened wide and stared straight ahead as she listened, frozen with fear.

Another twig snapped. It had been much closer this time, and Jackie's breathing began to quicken in response. Her hands began to shake on the steering wheel, and Jackie slowly moved one hand from the from wheel towards the headlight switch.

There was a third snap that could not have been more than ten feet from the car, and Jackie's hand slowly closed around the headlight switch before pausing.

Stillness reigned yet again, then the loudest and most blood-curdling noise Jackie had ever heard penetrated from the outside and pounded against her eardrums. As if by reflex, Jackie flicked the switch, causing her headlights to come alive and illuminate a sight that could have only existed within her worst nightmares. Jackie screamed, but the overarching roar was loud enough to drown it out completely.

…

VEGA heard the creature roar once again, and in that moment all three members of their party came to the same conclusion. The creature they had been hunting had found a prey of its own. Both the Slayer and the hound made to quicken their pace, but both paused momentarily as another roar sounded from a completely different direction than the creature they were tracking.

VEGA began tracking this new roar as well, and he, as well as the hound and the Slayer, realized that there were now at least two of these unnatural creatures still roaming within the forest.

The hound looked to the Slayer, who considered for a moment, then gestured with a tilt of his head to continue along the trail they were following. The hound seemed to understand, then warped forward with a flash of teleportational lightning, continuing on in their original direction.

Another roar sounded from the new contact, though much closer this time. The Slayer turned to the source, then took off towards it. Though VEGA's presence remained within the Praetor Suit and therefore with the Slayer, the A.I.'s interest was piqued towards the hellhound. This would mark the first time since making an acquaintance with the canine that it and the Slayer would be separated, making this the first time that the hound would be left entirely to its own devices. It would be completely independent.

Though the hound's newfound freedom came with the obvious opportunity for it to abandon both VEGA and the Doom Slayer, the A.I. considered the possibility to be minimal, and instead was more interested in observing its combat capabilities in greater detail. There was still much to be learned about the supernatural canine and its origins, and it was with a slight amount of what could be considered regret that VEGA would not have the opportunity to observe how the hound would combat its prey on its own.

Luckily, patience was a virtue that VEGA possessed in spades, and he was certain that many more opportunities to see the hound in action would present themselves in the future. With that in mind, VEGA returned to the task at hand, and continued his study of the unorthodox creatures that existed within this forest. They were almost as much of an enigma as the hellhound, as their signatures were of little similarity to the other flora and fauna within these woods, making them non-congruent with the "standard" of other Earths VEGA had already visited.

Study of the creature that had already been killed showed that they were extremely sturdy, with their natural speed and strength far above any other mundane animals found on Earth. Tracking its movements had also made it clear to VEGA that their behavior was not natural either. They were intelligent to be certain, but the creature they had encountered before had seemed almost as though it were waiting for something, and it had seemed to be caught off guard by the arrival of the Slayer and the hellhound. Whatever it had been expecting, it had not been them.

In short, two conclusive statements could be made regarding these monsters.

Firstly: They were not a natural part of this Earth's ecosystem.

And secondly: They had come here for a purpose.

…

" Rerouting…make a U-turn."

Jackie completely ignored the navigational system's voice as she gunned the engine of her car, the uneven dirt road throwing her around in her seat as she sped down the path. The ear-piercing roar sounded from somewhere behind her, causing the violent tremors in her hands to only grow worse.

" Your destination is behind you."

Jackie cried out and dared to glance into the rear-view mirror as she pushed her car to its limits against the terrain. The taillights did little to illuminate her pursuer, which only made her sense of terror grow further.

" In five-hundred feet, your destination will be—Rerouting…"

The roar sounded again, angrier this time.

" In three-hundred feet, your desinati—"

Tears clouded Jackie's vision as she drove faster.

" In two-hundred and fifty feet, your des—"

The roar sounded once more, loud enough to deafen Jackie.

" Rerouting…your destination will be in fifty feet…"

Jackie could no longer hear anything save for her own heartbeat thundering within her ears.

" You have arrived at your des—"

…

The feed from the camera flickered and died as it was jostled around, and only when it came to a complete rest again did it begin to record once more. The scene that it now picked up was far different from the one it had been filming mere seconds ago. The windshield that it had been sitting just behind was cracked in multiple places, many of which had likely appeared when the car had been flipped onto its side. Due to the lopsided position the camera now rested in, the horizon stood as vertical instead of horizontal, with the trees sprouting from the right to the left from one side of the frame to the other. The night sky was still thick with rainclouds, making the only light coming from the sporadically flicking headlights and the few small fires that had sprouted as a result of the vehicle's now ruptured fuel line.

Though the camera's quality had been reduced from the impact it had sustained, the device was clear enough to capture the sight of a large creature slowly stepping into frame from the bottom border. The sideways position of the camera made it seem as though the creature was walking upward along a wall that was the forest floor, and the camera diligently continued to record as the creature circled the vehicle predatorially, its tall form in contrast to its thin and bony structure. It had almost no muscle to speak of, with its entire body looking to be a large skeleton with an impossibly thin layer of skin covering it. Though its torso was akin to that of a human, its fingers ended in an imposing set of ivory claws, and its head showed the skull of a horse, with a long and ugly snout that ended in a row of grotesquely large teeth. As if its imposing stature wasn't enough, impossibly large antlers sprouted from the creature's back as well, reaching towards the sky above and standing even higher than the top of the monster's head.

The beast watched the car through the empty sockets in its head. It appeared to be waiting for something. There was a moment of silence apart from the crackling of the small fires, then a low and weak groan was heard from next to the camera, signaling that the occupant of the vehicle was still alive.

This only served to agitate the beast, who bristled and opened its bony mouth to roar in anger. It took a step towards the vehicle but was suddenly intercepted as a bright flash of light burst into frame from someplace the camera couldn't see. The monster paused and looked to the source of the light, only to recoil a moment later as a large shape lunged into frame and attacked.

The creature dodged to the side as the shape landed, then the camera was able to record a clear look at the newcomer as it momentarily stopped moving. Its profile appeared to be that of a large dog or a wolf, though all similarities came to an end there. This hound-like creature in particular possessed brightly glowing eyes and a furless snout that displayed its long and numerous razor-sharp teeth. Its hide was jet black but was contrasted by the flames that sprouted from beneath its fur and enveloped its hulking form. The flames burned much brighter than the small gasoline fires scattered upon the ground, and when the hound-creature growled at the monster, small embers pushed outward from between its jaws.

The skeletal monster took in the sight of the flaming wolf-dog, then hunched its back aggressively and roared at its foe, signaling its animosity. It then lunged at the hound creature, its sharp claws bared and ready to tear into flesh and tissue.

The strange hound suddenly lunged forward with a speed that outmatched the monster's, catching the creature by surprise. Darting between the outstretched claws, the hound tackled the skeletal beast backward, sinking its teeth into the monster's shoulder. A loud snap could be heard as the force behind the bite shattered the shoulder bones of the creature, who howled in pain and tried to claw at the wolf as it bit down harder. The large monster's hands found no purchase, however, as a bolt of lightning suddenly flashed through the air and struck the hound, knocking the monster back further and causing the dog to disappear from sight.

The monster stumbled for a few moments before regaining its balance. The shoulder that had been bitten through was now horribly mangled as jagged shards of bone jutted out every which way. The joint had been thin enough already, and the large chunk taken out by the wolf had left the rest of the creature's arm only attached by a single small bone and a few ripped patches of skin. The limb hung uselessly at the creature's side as it looked around wildly for its foe.

There was suddenly another flash, and the hound reappeared behind the monster. With hardly a split-second of pause, it leapt at the monster's exposed back and latched its jaws firmly around the creature's neck from behind, crushing many of the antlers that sprouted from back there.

The weight of the hound's tackle again unbalanced the monster, which roared in pain and fell forward, this time crashing face first into the dirt.

With the advantage taken, the wolf-like creature began tearing ferociously at the monster's exposed neck with its teeth, tearing away the thin skin and clamping down firmly upon the creature's spinal column.

The skeletal monster roared again and struggled to right itself, but it was completely immobilized by its broken arm combined with the weight of the hound gnashing at its neck. It tried to reach behind itself with its only usable hand and push the hound away, but the hound snapped its jaws hard on the creature's prying talons, shattering the appendage and now rendering both of the creature's arms useless.

In the next second, the hound clamped its jaw firmly around the monster's neck and wrenched violently. There was a moment of struggle as the hound's strength warred against the skeletal fortitude of the monster, then slowly but surely, with the creature bellowing and screaming the whole time, a loud popping began to sound as the creature's spine began to separate.

The monster thrashed and struggle to save itself from its fate, but the hound fiercely held on, continuing to pull the creature's head free from its shoulders even after it fell still. With one final crack, the hound wrenched the two apart, tearing much of the creature's spinal column out along with its head.

The hound tossed the disembodied skull to the side, then let out a long howl towards the sky, the flames on its hide burning even brighter still in response to its victory. It then turned and noticed the vehicle for the first time, tilting its head with interest toward the crash. With an air of curiosity, the hound pawed its way across the dirt towards the overturned vehicle, sniffing with its skinless nose as it drew closer.

Another weak groan came from the occupant still inside the vehicle, which caused the hound to pause for a moment before stepping even closer. It eventually was too close for the camera to capture its entire form, and the picture blurred slightly as it struggled to focus on the hound's close-up fur. There was some rustling for a moment, then the hound began stepping back from the vehicle, dragging the body of the driver with it. It dragged the young woman slowly and tenderly away from the car by the hood on her sweatshirt, careful to avoid the fires that had sprung up around them.

The flames on the hound's fur dimmed as well as it pulled the unconscious person to safety, likely to ensure that it would not burn the human that it was carrying in its jaw. Once the hound had dragged the young woman a safe distance away, it lifted its head and looked around for any further threats. There were a few beats of silence, then the hound's ears twitched in response to a sound. It turned as another figure appeared from the trees.

The new figure appeared to be human, and the hound seemed to recognize it despite the complete set of dark green armor that the figure was wearing. It's imposing stature was amplified by the fact that the armored human was dragging the corpse of another monster behind it. The weight of the deceased beast's body seemed to be no hindrance, however, as the figure casually tossed the monster's body on top of the other that the hound had killed. The camera captured another few moments as the figure approached the hound in a non-threatening manner, the battery then dying out just as the armored stranger turned to face the wreckage.

…

VEGA's presence flowed through the car's damaged systems, using the internal GPS components to finally spread himself out across the planet. Familiar information came to him in droves, and the A.I. accepted and processed it all with blinding speed as he brought more of himself online. He could not tarry long upon any single piece of data, however, as the mystery behind these creatures they had encountered still remained, as well as this strange signal that he had just discovered within the navigational system of this vehicle.

Further inspection of the signal showed that something had hijacked the system and had been able to input its own destinations, namely the creatures that now were dead and decapitated by the Slayer and the hellhound. With that in mind, VEGA deduced that whoever or whatever had done this was very adept at hijacking waves and frequencies, not unlike VEGA himself was. What was even more interesting was that the signal left behind a strange signature in the electromagnetic spectrum wherever it went. The signature took the form of an abnormal distortion throughout the wavelengths that VEGA was able to discern through his scans. This curious phenomenon was new and unheard of to him, however, which caused the A.I. to divert more of his processing power to finding and studying these spatial distortions as he continued his search.

While simultaneously tracking the signal to its point of origin, VEGA quickly discovered a large quantity of the aforementioned distortions in a nearby town. Whatever had hijacked the navigational system in this vehicle was also influencing the EM signals of the small community, mainly commandeering the frequency used by their local television station. For what purpose, VEGA still did not know, and his curiosity grew exponentially further as he finally uncovered the source of the signal a few moments later.

Locking in the location, VEGA spoke aloud to both the Doom Slayer and the hellhound.

"I believe I have uncovered the location of origin of these supernatural creatures. It is likely that if we venture to said location, we will uncover their purpose here as well as who or what sent them. Unfortunately, to travel there, an unorthodox means of transport will be required."

VEGA knew he had the Doom Slayer's full attention then, as the number of places that the Slayer couldn't reach simply on foot were few and far between. As VEGA continued, the Slayer expertly scooped the young woman off the ground and started in the direction VEGA indicated, seemingly making up his mind to drop her off somewhere along the way. The hellhound followed alongside.

…

Images flashed like a rapid slideshow, images that one barely had time to process before they were gone again. Visions of darkened trees and vibrant moons flashed by, and they all seemed eerily wrong somehow.

In the background, it sounded like someone was screaming. Their voice was raspy and desperate, as though they were clinging to the last vestiges of life as it was wrenched from them. The visions continued to flash, faster now, now showing glimpses of a flat white landscape with small craters peppering the snow-white desert. No signs of vegetation or animals could be seen, and the night sky above was peppered with more stars than could be counted. Strangely, long and deep cracks marred the empty surface, looking as though they had only just appeared.

The screaming was getting louder now, more frantic than before, and over the horizon, two shapes appeared, the only things to be seen for miles around. They were rapidly approaching, and just as their ambiguous forms began to come to focus, a flash of red streaked cross the visions, causing the scene to shake and tremble as the screaming grew louder still. It was apparent now that the screaming was not that of a human, but rather, something else that lurked within the realm of nightmares and media.

Something evil.

The vision changed one more time, and suddenly the cracks in the ashen white ground began to deepen, small fissures turning into wide canyons that spread towards the observer as the shaking grew in intensity to match the screaming. As the fractures spread further and further, the scene began to fade, as though the observer was fading, growing weaker even. The sight faltered as it faded further, then slowly turned to the night sky above as the screaming grew weaker as well. In the distance not too far away, a large blue planet sat proudly among the stars, completely peaceful as the voice and vision faded completely.

…

Jackie gasped and bolted upright, vestiges from her dream burning away as her eyes began to see once again. She looked around erratically for a few moments to see that she was inside a room. Pleasant blue walls surrounded her in an encasing yet comforting manner, putting Jackie a bit more at ease. Looking down at herself, Jackie saw that she was lying in a hospital bed, wearing a standard gown with a thin bedsheet covering her as well.

After the initial shock and double checking that she felt ok, Jackie frowned and struggled to remember how she had arrived at this hospital. The last thing she remembered was driving down a long an empty road, as if searching for something…what was it?

Jackie's attempt to recover her memories was then cut short as a nurse then walked in. The woman's smile was wide and genuine as she bid Jackie a good afternoon. Shocked, Jackie immediately inquired as to how long she had been unconscious, and the nurse informed her that she had been in a coma for almost two days now.

Panicking, Jackie then asked what was wrong with her, and the nurse had to calm her down before reassuring her that she was not injured in any way, at least not anymore. She had been admitted to the hospital with heavy bruising and a few minor cuts, but they had all healed nicely and quickly, making Jackie eligible for discharge whenever she was ready.

Jackie was stunned at the news, and quickly inquired as to how she had arrived at the hospital in the first place, but to her frustration, the nurse said that she had simply been found lying on the grass out front. One of the doctors had found her and quickly had her brought inside, but before that, no one knew.

Jackie sat back and tried to think properly as a million questions flashed through her mind. The nurse offered to give her some privacy to collect her thoughts and left the room to go retrieve a few forms, leaving Jackie alone to process.

With nowhere to even begin, Jackie rationalized that maybe a small dose of normalcy would help her clear things up. Noticing the television affixed to the wall across from her bed, Jackie picked up the remote from her bedside table and turned on the news. Unfortunately, the news that she then saw was far from normal.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are coming to you live with breaking news of the shocking variety. The National Aeronautics and Space Administration released an official report that our Moon…has ruptured."

Jackie sat silently, unable to even comprehend the statement that the news anchor was making.

"No information regarding how such an event has occurred or to the extent of the damage has been released, but photographs have been submitted by amateur astronomers and lunar scientists across the globe. A live feed has been provided courtesy of the Hubble Telescope, which will provide us with real-time updates of the situation."

The feed appeared on the screen, and as if like water through a tap, Jackie's memories rushed back to her all at once.

Her fiancée's disappearance.

The navigational system in her car.

The woods.

That…thing.

Her nightmares…

Jackie gasped and held her head in her hands, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene on the screen as tears formed in her eyes.

Against a darkened sky, the full Moon stood prominently, or rather, what should have been a full Moon. At the edge of what could be seen on the surface, it looked as though a large bite had been taken out of the celestial body, with cracks spiderwebbing outward from the source of the damage and scarring the cratered landscape. Chunks of lunar rock lay scattered across the surface as well, all blasted from their original positions and haphazardly thrown about the land.

"Some experts believe that the damage was done by a large meteor striking the Moon's surface, though many are quick to question if this event was man-made. Many statements submitted to here in the studio are quick to draw a connection between this event and the unscheduled satellite launch at Kennedy Space Center two days ago. We are currently reaching out to NASA for further comment…"

Jackie was barely listening anymore. The voice from the television faded into the background as the traumatized woman continued to stare at the screen. The ominousness of the damaged Moon continued to saturate the very air she was breathing.

Those dreams she had when she had been comatose…she had been so ready to dismiss them as just that…just dreams. But now, there was no way that they weren't connected to this somehow.

She had been there, on the Moon's surface. She had been watching through the eyes of something, and she had seen when the surface had begun to break away.

She remembered the screaming, how it had only gotten louder and louder…until it didn't.

Those two figures she had seen, did they have something to do with this? Were they the ones responsible?

Jackie was slowly pulled from her stupor by a slight buzzing on the table next to her. Unable to take her eyes from the television for a moment or two, Jackie only shifted her gaze when the buzzing continued persistently.

On the table, her phone sat patiently rumbling against the plastic surface, its screen alight and displaying the name of whoever was calling her. Jackie's heart leapt into her throat in the next moment as she recognized who it was.

Scrambling across the bed, Jackie hastily grabbed the phone in both hands and answered it clumsily. A groggy and disoriented voice came through on the other end, but Jackie could not help but to sigh with unrivaled relief as she heard her fiancée's voice for the first time since entering this personal hell.

He sounded confused and unaware of his surroundings, but Jackie quickly learned that he was alright. There were many other voices to be heard in the background of wherever he was, and Jackie could guess that they belonged to the others that had been missing too. It seemed as though they had all just woken up from a deep slumber.

Jackie hastily called the nurse back into the room as she questioned her fiancée about his surroundings. Once the nurse realized what was happening, she quickly called her superiors, and soon the police were alerted and tracking the call to its point of origin.

Just like that, the Moon, and whatever had happened to it, was put to the back of Jackie's mind. Everything that had happened to her up to this point was made irrelevant. The love of her life had been found, and he seemed ok, so she was ok.

On the screen, the live feed of the Moon stayed up to date as the news anchor continued to talk.

"We will continue to follow this story as it progresses here at Local 58. Don't go anywhere, we'll be right back…"

Though the Hubble Telescope was powerful enough to provide a very high-quality video, it still was not strong enough to capture the small flash of blue light that appeared on the Moon's surface just then. The phenomenon went completely unnoticed.

Notes:

A/N: Alright, question time. What are your thoughts on the addition of the hellhound to out dynamic duo? Obviously, dogs have the capacity to make for amazing companions to badasses such as the Doom Slayer, but the main worry that I had with keeping the hound as a regular is that it may make the group too big? I personally think I can swing it, but they do say that "three is a crowd" don't they? I have already made a decision on the matter, but I would still love to hear your thoughts, as reading all of your reviews and messages often gives me ideas about how to better format or continue the story.

As always, please don't hesitate to leave compliments/backlash in the form of a review, and I will see you all in six years when the next chapter comes out! (That's a joke, nobody panic please.)

Chapter 35: Interlude V

A lone skag treaded its way across the arid rockiness that was Pandora. The imposing beast was on the hunt for food, separated from its pack in the hopes of keeping the spoils of the hunt all to itself. With any luck, the skag hoped to be able to find a nearby rakk's nest, preferably with numerous eggs inside that were ripe for picking, as rakk eggs were a common favorite among the four-legged beasts. The skag's triple-jawed mouth began to water at the thought, and it focused harder on the hunt with the prize in mind.

The skag heard a commotion in the distance, and it raised its head toward the noise, on the alert for possible prey. It immediately recognized the mechanical roaring of an engine, and across the desert land, the skag could see a dust cloud kicking up just over the horizon. Such a sound compared with the raised dust told the skag that it was likely a group of bandits, and that they were undoubtedly out and about for the same reason the skag was.

Food.

Unfortunately, bandits were all too happy to prey upon any lone skag they found, with many even preferring skag meat to any other form of sustenance found on this desolate planet. This made the skag's own hunt much more dangerous, for if it was spotted by those roaming bandits, then it would quickly shift from the hunter to the hunted and would likely not survive.

Quickly, the Skag ducked into a nearby cave as the bandit vehicle drew closer. Darkness welcomed the skag as it trotted deeper in, and once it was satisfied that it was concealed, the skag laid down behind a rock and waited.

The roar of the engine reached a climax, then dropped to a slow idle as the bandits pulled to a stop right at the mouth of the cave. The skag heard the voices of the humans arguing outside, but it didn't dare move from its hiding spot. Had it been with its pack, the skag might have been able to fight and even overpower the small brigade of bandits, as a skag's armored hide was effective against the bullet weaponry the humans utilized. But by itself, the skag stood no chance, so it waited.

The arguing continued for a few more moments, then the roar of the engine crescendoed once more and the bandits drove away, leaving the skag alone in the cave once more.

Almost alone…

From even deeper within the cave, a low rustling sent a chill down the spikes on the skag's back. Something else was in here, and it was much larger than a human.

The skag whipped around and barked at the noise, making itself look bigger to appear more intimidating, but its display proved worthless as a large fist emerged from the darkness and crushed the skag's skull into the dirt, killing it instantly.

Without even pausing to inspect its kill, the owner of the large fist emerged from the shadows and picked up the skag's now lifeless body. Blood dripped from its hand where it had struck its prey, but the large creature did not notice nor care. Blood was a constant sight for a monster such as this.

Unlike the human bandits outside, this monstrosity had no intention of using the skag for food. No, the flesh would be put to far greater use. A use that would soon be made clear to all of Pandora.

Taking the corpse with it, the creature retreated back further into the cave, soon working its way into a large open cavern. The open ceiling stretched high above. And dotted around the edges of the cavern were other tunnel entrances just like the one large beast had come through, connecting much of the underground of Pandora to the surface.

And there, sitting ominously at the center of the large open cavern, a gore nest sat, bathing the rocky walls in its malignant red glow.

Imps scurried back and forth from the nest and into the tunnels and vice versa, adding more and more carrion to the piles surrounding it. All were working to make the gore nest larger and larger, and with it, their presence here on Pandora.

The hell knight surveyed the scene for a moment, then deposited the skag's limp body on top of countless corpses just like it. The bodies were coming in quickly, from both humans and creatures alike, and mounds of flesh almost as tall as the hell knight rose up around the gore nest, soon to be assimilated into the nest's structure.

As if in response to the new corpse, the gore nest pulsed once, its red hue briefly flashing brighter as it summoned more demons to this world. All around the room, flashes of red appeared on their own, leaving more demons in their place when they faded.

The new arrivals were all imps and gargoyles, as the hell knight assumed they would be. As of now, it served as the sole hell knight in this world, directing the hordes of lesser demons to establish a foothold in this dimension. The lords that the hell knight answered to had commanded that this world be seized and assimilated, and so the large demon followed their orders with fierce loyalty, prepping for the arrival of larger and greater demons who would take over command once the gore nest had grown large enough.

Very soon, their presence would be made known to this world, and by then, it would be too late for their denizens to mount a counterattack. This planet, and the resources within, would be absorbed into the Umbral Plains, strengthening their power and expanding Hell's vastness even further. It was only a matter of time at this point.

Far above the planet's surface, Helios Station sat prominently against the sky, unaware of the plot that was unfolding directly below it….

Chapter 36: I Heard It Too

Notes:

A/N: Hello my friends! I have returned from the depths once again to inform you all that I am not dead and still actively pursuing this story. It is unfortunately with a heavy heart that I cannot get to it as often as I would like, and I beg for your forgiveness as I try to deliver new material in what will hopefully be not once a year. But enough about me, our next chapter is from the popular Two-Sentence Story: I Heard It Too, and I think our hero is gonna really have fun with this one. Enjoy and remember that I own nothing!

Sarah was working on her geology project when she heard a soft knock on her bedroom door. Pausing for the briefest of moments to put down her quartz sample, Sarah turned to see her mother leaning casually against the doorframe, her face at ease and with a soft smile to match. Crossing her arms in a subconscious effort to match her mother’s relaxed posture, Sarah gave a small smile of her own. Sarah had always admired her mother for a variety of reasons, and one of those reasons was how she always managed to stay so calm and collected in every situation. Whether it was stress from her demanding career as a biological engineer or strain from being a single parent raising a teenage daughter, Sarah’s mother never let her emotions get the best of her. Even in situations where a laid back attitude was not ideal, such as disciplining subordinates at work, Sarah’s mother would always respond with a stern but controlled demeanor. Sarah was often perplexed as to just how her mother did it. She knew that if she tried to keep her composure so steadily like that, she would likely explode.

 

“Hey mom,” came her amicable greeting as she leaned back on her desk chair. “You’re home early today…time off for good behavior?”

 

Her mother gave a small chuckle in response.

 

“We’re actually about to make a breakthrough in our latest project, so I decided to let everyone out a little early today to celebrate.”

 

Sarah raised a teasing but curious eyebrow at this, as the exact details of her mother’s work were often a mystery to the teenage girl. She knew that it had to be that way, of course, as the biological engineering lab her mother worked for was often given military contracts. Strictly need-to-know projects were handled at her mother’s level, but she was forbidden by law from sharing anything about those projects, likely so none of the country’s adversaries could get their hands on whatever groundbreaking research they were working on.

 

“You? Leaving the lab before six?” Sarah joked. “I’d ask what kind of breakthrough we’re talking about here, but I’m guessing I’ll just get the usual ‘I-could-tell-you-but-then-i’d-have-to-kill-you’ routine, right?”

 

Her mother responded with a wink and placed her finger to her lips, confirming that Sarah was indeed correct.

 

“Well, speaking of breakthroughs, I have just made one of my own on an incredibly boring but also incredibly unclassified project regarding the different types of rocks that our planet contains,” Sarah said with just the right amount of sarcasm. She gestured with her hand to the diorama that dominated her work desk, showcasing a multitude of different geodes and stones that had their names as well as a brief description printed beneath their separate stages.

 

As a woman who possessed a doctorate, Sarah could only assume that her project was akin to learning how to count to ten in the eyes of her mother, but the teen still felt a sense of pride when she saw her mother’s eyes analyzing it with an approving eye. She took the time to read each description as well as spend a few moments looking over each rock that was on display. When she’d finished her evaluation, she turned to Sarah and held her hand up in a high five.

 

“Well now, I’d say this is some A+ material you’ve got here, Sarah. Have you already written up your presentation script?”

 

Sarah returned her mother’s gesture, then let her shoulders slump slightly at the mention of her presentation.

 

“Not yet…I mean, most of it is already written, but I can’t figure out how to start the presentation. There’s nothing to grab the audience’s attention. How am I supposed to grab everybody’s undivided focus when the subject is literally about rocks ?”

 

“Besides the fact that they are quite literally the oldest and most consistent tool utilized by mankind?” Sarah’s mother offered with a sly smile.

 

At this, Sarah groaned and slumped even further into her chair.

 

“How do you do that? How do you come up with a hook like that on the spot? I’ve been sitting here for hours trying to come up with something!”

 

Sarah’s mother chuckled.

 

“Practice. Believe it or not, there are more boring things than rocks out there. Some of the presentations I’ve given have made people fall asleep while standing up. Do you know what an ATP synthase is?”

 

Sarah raised an eyebrow.

 

“Uh, maybe our teacher mentioned it once…? But no.”

 

“Exactly, neither do about half the generals I communicate with. Trying to explain that while keeping them conscious is a nightmare.”

 

This caused Sarah to give a genuine giggle. She was about to reply when her mother’s phone suddenly interrupted their conversation, buzzing politely yet incessantly in her pocket.

 

“Ah, speaking of work…”

 

Sarah gave a small sigh. It was unfortunately quite often that her mother was called upon unexpectedly, as the dynamic nature of her work always demanded she be on call.

 

Her mother answered the call and gave a cheerful greeting to whoever was on the other end, but her smile quickly dropped as she heard what the voice had to say. Sarah could only just hear the sound of their voice from the phone, and she immediately registered a rather panicked tone speaking frantically to her mother. Something seemed very wrong.

 

Immediately, her mother’s tone turned serious, albeit still remaining calm and collected. Her brow creased slightly as she gave her full attention to the conversation, and Sarah listened intently despite her inability to make out the words on the other end.

 

“Calm down. Tell me what’s happened…”

 

“...what sort of problem? I don’t–”

 

“...I’m at home…no I’m–hold on…”

 

Her mother turned without so much as a glance at Sarah and strode from the room purposefully, with Sarah watching her in a mixture of worry and curiosity as she walked across the long hall and into her own bedroom. She shut the door behind her, cutting off the sound of her conversation and leaving Sarah with an uncomfortable silence.

 

Sarah squinted, but she could no longer hear any of her mother’s conversation through the door. She briefly considered sneaking over to the bedroom door to try and listen in, but remembrance of the last time she tried that method kept her seated. Severe punishment had been dished out in spades a few years ago when her mother had been working on a particularly sensitive project. She had been so excited about it that she’d nearly shared some classified information with Sarah, but she’d spoken about it with such vigor and enthusiasm that Sarah had found herself wanting to know more. She’d tried to listen in from around the corner when her mother had taken a phone call in the kitchen, but an untimely sneeze had given her away, and Sarah had been grounded for nearly two months as a result. No, despite the burning desire to unravel this mystery, Sarah stayed put. There was no need to get herself into further trouble while simultaneously committing treason in the process…

 

Though no sound escaped from the other side of her mother’s bedroom door, Sarah thought it best to leave no room for doubt that she wasn’t listening. Reaching into her drawer, Sarah pulled out a pair of headphones that she’d purchased some time ago. They weren’t exactly noise-proof, but plugging the headphones into her music player and turning the volume up certainly prevented any outside noise from reaching her ears. With one final glance at her mother’s closed bedroom door, Sarah shook off the twinge of worry that rose within her and pressed play, turning back to her project to place the finishing touches on the displays. Loud music began emanating from the headphones, starting a loud pop genre song that helped to take Sarah’s mind off whatever was going on at the other side of that door.

 

…

 

The interior of the laboratory was mapped out in a few short microseconds, and with that information, VEGA began his analysis of what exactly had transpired here. The Doomslayer also looked around as well, with the hound sniffing the nearby bloodstains dripping down from the shattered glass and concrete. Currently, they occupied what VEGA hypothesized to be a containment cell, as the reinforced walls, extensively hidden cameras, and lack of windows all pointed to a design fashioned to keep something locked inside. Shortly after, the A.I.’s theory was proven correct as he gained control of the facility’s inner network. Documentation of experiments and observances flooded through VEGA’s vast consciousness, his cognitive abilities growing as he refurbished the processing centers within the laboratory to his will. Details regarding what exactly had been confined to this space were plentiful as VEGA flooded through the network, and he quickly became familiar with the origins and purpose of the entity that had been formerly kept here as well as its prowess and threat it posed to those that had created it.

 

While VEGA dutifully noted and logged each and every observance and speculation of the entity, he also filed the information away in his ever-growing codex of different lifeforms he and the Doom Slayer had encountered thus far since departing their own world. Though VEGA surmised that his codex entries would continue to populate until he ran out of memory, or until they returned to their own Earth. He was able to anticipate how long his memory would accommodate new information to within a century or so, but he possessed no frame of reference as to when to estimate their return home. In truth, their journey home could last eons, which both he and the Slayer were certainly capable of enduring. He could not be certain of the hound, however, as his initial analysis showed that while the hound was likely to live at least a few more millennia, it still was indeed finite. Ironically, the hound’s lifespan compared with the Doom Slayer’s could be considered similar to that of an unenhanced canine and human, with the Slayer outliving the hound by untold centuries. That was, of course, if the Slayer ceased to continue finding ways to empower himself via the strange and alien energies that flowed through the infinite dimensions. If he continued to find ways to strengthen his being, however, then VEGA could easily consider his lifespan to be indefinite.

 

Though the mystery regarding the Slayer’s ironically infinite mortality intrigued the A.I., he chose to focus on the more present task at hand, which was the nature of the entity that had been birthed and contained in this very structure. The details of VEGA’s investigation of this creature in particular hinged in some part on small tidbits that might have seemed insignificant to the average viewer, but the A.I. treated each one as a necessity to behold, for each small amount of data to be found was integral to his final determination. An example could be found in some of the experiments conducted in this location. As it so happened, VEGA uncovered evidence of malpractice within the team of humans that created this new life form. Cross referencing samples taken from the experiment with employee records showed that one of their own had supplied the foundation for this new creature’s genetic structure. It had been modified of course during the trials, but they were similar enough. VEGA’s innate curiosity led him to question how such similarities manifested themselves in the new life form. Photographs, sound recordings, video, as well as behavior logs were accessed in a flash, and VEGA was intrigued by what he discovered.

 

The experiment’s DNA, despite using a donor as a basis, was still unstable, bearing an inkling of likeness to a DNA structure that both he and the Slayer had encountered some time ago, one that possessed an innate physical strength and durability while still able to inhabit a relatively smaller form. There were a few differences between the two, namely that one was caused by a genetically engineered virus and the other by direct DNA modulation. But the closest similarity, one that made this creature so dangerous, was that it was capable of changing its physical structure with so much as a thought. VEGA even would consider this particular creature to be even more savage than its dimensional counterpart, as its mental state was far more volatile and primative. The focus of the experiment had been on the physical results rather than the mental ones, manifesting in a lack of proper cognitive repression in the entity that was created.

 

To quote the psychoanalysis report that VEGA pulled from the database, this creature’s mental state was, “feral and aggressive, with limited cognitive abilities as well as a peculiar knowledge of the donor’s innate instincts”.

 

The last portion of the note was what piqued VEGA’s interest the most, and he found amplifying information behind another and much more secure firewall within the network.

 

It was a voice recording, and it was logged less than an hour ago.

 

VEGA deciphered the structure of the file and played it within his programming, as the Doom Slayer was still preoccupied with his own investigation of the destroyed containment cell. VEGA heard the words on the tape through his coding as though they were speaking in the very same room as he.

 

“Experimental log #134, Doctor Nichols reporting…It has been seventy-two hours since our last attempt at vocal communication, with no discernable responses recorded in the previous sections. As per our conversation in experimental log #97, we will now attempt to communicate with the subject with props that will trigger an innate memory transplanted from the host.”

 

“For context, let it be known that I am speaking to the subject via a microphone broadcast into its containment chamber. Images are being shown via a hidden projector against the wall as well. Everyone else seemed content to leave early today and leave the experiment for tomorrow, but some of us are a bit more motivated than others…”

 

There was a pause on the recording.

 

“Alright, the subject appears to be relatively docile at the moment…starting interaction now:”

 

“Good afternoon! How are you feeling?”

 

“...”

 

“No response. Let it be known that no image has been shown yet. I will attempt the phrase again.”

 

“Good afternoon! How are you feeling?”

 

“...”

 

“Again, no response. Although, the subject does appear to be looking around to determine the source of my voice.”

 

“I will now attempt to recall a possibly ingrained memory within the subject. A picture provided by the donor will be displayed on the wall as well.”

 

“What do you remember? Do you recognize them?”

 

“...”

 

“Subject appears to have considered the picture for a few moments, but has lost interest very quickly. It seems pictures of parental figures are not ingrained enough to trigger a memory. Displaying the next picture now…”

 

“This someone that you knew. Do you remember him?”

 

“...”

 

“Subject appears to have shown a slight interest in a depiction of the donor’s former husband. Wait…no, the subject has lost interest after another few moments of interest. I will now attempt another picture…”

 

“What about her? Do you know about her?”

 

“...........................”

 

“Subject has moved its mouth, but the words are not loud enough to discern any meaning.”

 

“Please repeat what you said. Do you know her?”

 

“................saer–ah”

 

“Subject is louder this time, but its words do not make any sense.”

 

“What are you saying? Please speak louder.”

 

“..............Sarah…….”

 

“Success! Subject has displayed a sort of familiarity with the displayed picture, which is a photo of the donor’s dau–”

 

“...SARAH…”

 

“Subject appears to hold a strong tether to this particular memory. I believe that we–”

 

“...S̴A̷R̴A̸H̶…”

 

“S-subject is showing signs of increased agitation. It’s form is beginning to shift! I’m c-calling in the–”

 

“S̴̮̦̝̗̅͑̆̄Ȧ̸̱A̷̧̩̞̕Ä̵̼̬́Ą̴͠Â̷̻͆́R̶̜̓̄̆̾͜R̸̡͔̦̄̇͂R̶̖̂̍A̷͕͙̤͂̊́Å̴͙̱̈́̑͝A̷̢͉̫͗̀̓͜Ḣ̷͙̳̱̋͜H̶̨̨̲̦̾̕H̵̭͒͝ͅḤ̸̱̺̣̅̄̕!̷͇͓̝̟̾ “

“HOLY SHIT! It’s breaking through! Call security! Call–”

 

It was then that the voice recording abruptly ended, though VEGA could accurately guess why given that he could see the tarnished observation booth laying in shambles just on the other side of the containment chamber. The entity had smashed through the wall completely, leaving the booth and all occupants inside in a state of total disarray.

 

Despite the morbid fate of the interviewer on the tape, their voice helped VEGA immensely. After just a few more moments of determined processing, VEGA drew his conclusion.

 

Interestingly enough, the hellhound picked up on its trail only a few moments after VEGA did. The wolf-like creature raised its head and growled to its discovery as VEGA spoke through the speakers inside the Slayer’s helmet.

 

“I have hypothesized this creature’s destination with 98.9345% certainty. I suggest traveling there first to begin our search.”

 

VEGA marked the location on the Slayer’s HUD, and soon he and his physical comrades started purposefully in the direction the creature had gone. As the Slayer and hound picked up their pace to superhuman levels, VEGA began a thorough analysis of the donor for the DNA basis of this entity, his processors on high alert for any information that could be considered useful.

 

…

 

Sarah lost track of time as she continued to place the finishing touches on her project. Soon, her mother’s work was all but forgotten as she continued to focus on the more finite details of presenting her research. Borrowing the words her mother had given her about a proper introduction to geology, she began drafting her speech to go along with her presentation. Pulling out a piece of paper, Sarah began her work with a brief click of her pen.

 

“Ok, here we go,” she thought to herself. “‘Rocks, the root of which all tools are derived…’”

 

In a flash, Sarah crumpled up the piece of paper she was writing on and tossed it into the basket in the corner of her room. The noise it made when it landed was completely overshadowed by the music playing loudly in Sarah’s ears, as she still had her headphones turned up to the maximum.

 

Taking out another sheet of paper, Sarah began again:

 

“‘Out of all the tools that humanity has utilized, rocks are by far the most beautiful…’”

 

That attempt was discarded almost as quickly as the first, and Sarah chastised herself for not possessing a writer’s touch. How had her mother made this seem so easy?

 

As her second attempt also landed softly in the wastebasket, Sarah was already pulling out another sheet of paper, her determination growing even more as she struggled with the proper opening to her report. Soon, she found herself growing more and more frustrated as the crumpled up papers began to pile up in the wastebasket.

 

“‘Rocks, from stones to spaceships…’”

 

‘“Through rocks, anything is possible…’”

 

“‘Rock and roll, a study of how…’”

 

“Hey everyone, let me tell you how rocks ROCK…’”

 

With that last attempt, Sarah began to grow furious. Angrily, she crumpled up the paper she had written on and forcefully threw it into the garbage, her temper finally flaring after so many defeated attempts.

 

With a deep frown and her teeth clenched, Sarah watched as her latest failure sailed through the air towards the bin, the uneven spherical nature of the crumpled paper causing it to spin slightly as it tumbled through the air.

 

Sarah expected it to land without so much as a sound over the music blaring within her ears, and she watched with an agitated glare as the paper landed on top of its other ill-fated counterparts.

 

BOOM .

 

Sarah jolted back in her chair as a loud noise penetrated her headphones and resounded through her very being. She stared at the crumpled note incredulously, as it had landed at the exact same moment the boom had reached Sarah’s eardrums.

 

Taking a moment to process what had just happened, Sarah slowly reached towards her notebook and tore out another piece of scratch paper. The loud music muffled the sound through her headphones as she crumpled it up into a ball and tossed it into the wastebasket like she had with so many others before. As if in slow motion this time, Sarah watched as it sailed toward the basket, its arc ever so slightly leading it to its destination on top of the other papers already sitting inside. Sarah watched intently as the paper drew closer and closer, and just as it landed…

 

BOOM .

 

Sarah immediately ripped off her headphones as the second loud noise resounded through her bones, and she looked with widened eyes to the hallway from her room, her eyes fixated intently as though she might see something coming around the corner at any second.

 

At first, she heard absolutely nothing, and then anxiety filled her very soul as she realized that all she heard was absolutely nothing .

 

There were no birds chirping outside, no cars giving a low rumble as they passed by, no distant lawn mowers dutifully clipping their yards…

 

It was silent. Dead silent.

 

Sarah tried to control her breathing as her anxiety grew worse, and she slowly stood up from her chair as the silence reigned further. With a trembling foot, Sarah took a step towards her bedroom door, frightened curiosity reigning supreme within her as she walked towards the doorway.

 

“Sarah?”

 

Sarah nearly jumped out of her skin as her mother’s voice called up from downstairs. The fact that Sarah still thought her mother was in her room across the hall combined with the sudden shattering of the silence had startled her completely, and she immediately frowned in confusion as she took another step, stepping outside of her bedroom and out into the upstairs hall.

 

How could her mother have gone downstairs? She had been in her room across the hall just a few minutes ago. The door was still closed, so Sarah had simply assumed that her mother was still inside, as she hardly ever closed the door to her room when she wasn’t there.

 

“Sarah?” came her mother’s voice once again from downstairs, this time a bit more questioningly, as though her mother was impatient that Sarah had not come down yet.

 

Sarah looked from her mother’s closed bedroom door to the stairs leading down for another moment before dismissing her confusion and taking the first step down the stairs, inhaling to call out to her mother that she was on her way down. She was remembering how serious her mother had been before when she was on the phone, so Sarah was certain that she was going to give her some sort of unclassified explanation as to what was going on.

 

Her words were suddenly choked from her before she could voice them as the door to her mother’s bedroom flew open and a figure rushed forward.

 

Sarah’s eyes grew wide in surprise and terror, but before she could scream, the figure closed a hand over her mouth and dragged her away from the stairs and back into her room. Once they both were inside, Sarah’s captor paused for just a moment to shut and lock the door before rushing Sarah deeper inside and holding her firmly.

 

Had Sarah’s mind not already been half frantic with panic and shock, she would have noticed that the whole sequence of events had been relatively quiet, as the figure had taken care not to make too much noise.

 

Sarah immediately began to fight and kick against the figure that held her in place, but she froze when the figure turned her around and revealed its identity.

 

Sarah was speechless with worry and confusion anew as the frightened eyes of her own mother stared back at her. She fumbled with her words as her mother removed her hand from her mouth.

 

“M-mom…? But–?”

 

Her mother quickly shushed her and held a finger to her daughter’s lips as she looked over her shoulder towards the now shut and locked bedroom door. When she next spoke, her voice was quiet but with an intense hiss.

 

“Don’t go down there. I heard it too…”

 

Sarah was still for a moment, unable to comprehend the words her mother was telling her, but then she began to tremble as the realization dawned on her at last. Her hands fumbled for a moment before grasping onto her mother, holding her as though she was her only lifeline and then she slowly turned to look at the closed door as horrible thoughts entered her mind about what might be on the other side.

 

“W-who…?” Sarah tried to whisper, but her voice refused to work properly. “W-w-what…?”

 

“S̵a̶r̵a̴h̶.̴.̴.̴?̶̵”

 

It was all Sarah could do not to yelp as her mother’s voice sounded from downstairs once more, now impatient that Sarah had not appeared yet. Sarah also heard something additional in the voice as well, as though it was speaking through an old music box instead of through normal human vocal cords. It sounded fuzzy and slightly disconnected.

 

Both mother and daughter slowly inched backward into the room and away from the door, and Sarah felt her mother shaking against her as they held each other closely.

 

“S̸̨̥̃̕a̷̤̟̅̋r̴̼͌a̵̯̫̍h̷͕͒!̸̞̇”

 

There was no mistaking the anger and inhuman distortion within the voice now, and the sound of heavy footfalls came from the ground floor, moving closer to the stairs and growing louder as they came. In the back of Sarah’s mind, she registered that the footfalls were far heavier than anything her mother could make, but her train of thought was lost as her mother detached herself from her and rushed over to her dresser which sat next to the door.

 

“Mom!” Sarah cried out as softly as she dared, but her mother continued forward, reaching the end of the dresser and pushing with all of her strength. The dresser begrudgingly inched forward at a snail’s pace, slowly moving to block the door so that it could not be opened.

“S̴̨̨̻̹̤̀̈́͂͋̕Ä̸͈́R̶̤̱̺̀Ã̵̢͍̟̙̮͍H̴̠̰̳̳͔̱͋̏́̅̕!̵̪̞̻̽̈́̀̂͑͝ͅ “

The footfalls grew faster and louder still, and from the noise, Sarah could tell that they were now at the bottom of the stairs. Panicking even more, Sarah rushed forward and pushed with her mother, increasing the speed of the dresser as it pushed faster across the doorway. Sarah was frantic as she heard the footfalls beginning to overlap each other, and within those last few seconds, she could have sworn she heard scuttling as opposed to solid footsteps.

 

The heavy dresser slowed to a stop across the door just as the scuttling footsteps reached the top of the stairs. Sarah’s mother grabbed her and pulled her back just as something heavy slammed into the door from the other side, causing the wood to shudder and the dresser to rattle as the unseen assailant began banging against the portal with enraged abandon.

“Ŝ̵̗͙͍͇̤̯̹̻̼̪̪̭̜͉̳̈́͂̒͑͜͠ͅͅÄ̵̺̎̈̄̑̿̈̈́̉̃̏͋A̴̧̧̡̧̨̛̮̮̞̺̺̱̝͚̯̹̦̮͓̗͚͊̀̈̑̐̍̽͊̏̓͐́̊͆̂̋̚̚̕͠͠͝ͅA̶̤̹̟̼͙͒̏͑̈́̇̔̀̇̒̐́͐̃͝Ŕ̷̛̰̱̪̹̈́͜À̴̛̘̓̓̓͋͐̄͋͆͊̂̉̔̏̔̽͛̋͝ͅÁ̴̠̪̜̩̒͆̑͂̔̄̀͜A̵̧̧̡̡̮̳̥͍͎̯̝̙̹̙͙͙̜̎̐ͅÁ̴̡̛̛͈̇͒̽͗̀̎̀̍͆̎̀̅̉͘͠͝͝͠Ä̸̡̨̡̧̳̪̹̹̫͇̹̝̪̣͈̩̻͖̠̼̻͋̽́͐͠͝Ả̴̢̝̝̺̭͉̻̣͔̹͈̺̮̺̩͍̫̣͕̱̍̇̎̀̃̀̀̀̄͘͘͘͝H̸̯͇̯̱̀͗̊̓ͅ!̴̡̨̺̲̭̝̝̮̙̯̬̜̦͖̯̙̘̥̌̾͗̈̅́̋̌͐̉̍̽͜͝͝!̵̩̰̯͚̰̩͉͓͈͈͉̹͎̘̈́̄̍̐̽́̏͛͜͝ “

With its voice so close and penetrating, Sarah knew for certain now that the creature wasn’t human. Between its bouts of shouting her name, she could hear other nightmarish sounds that nothing on this world was capable of producing. Her lack of understanding feed her terror, but it was all forgotten in the next instant as the door began to groan and give. Whatever was attempting to get inside her room was succeeding slowly, and the banging grew more purposeful as it realized that fact as well. A loud crack echoed throughout the room as the wood began to bend, and all Sarah could do was watch helplessly.

 

Suddenly, her mother grabbed her and pulled her to the closet situated against the far wall of the room. Before Sarah realized what was happening, her mother forced her into the small space, pressing Sarah’s back against the back wall of the closet.

 

“Stay here,” she whispered over the wailing of the monster and the splintering of the door. “Stay here, and don’t make a sound.”

 

Sarah shook her head wildly and grasped for her mother, her brain finally understanding what it was her mother was trying to do.

 

“No…” she said with a cracked and broken voice as tears began to form in her eyes. “No…don’t go…”

 

She could see the pain in her mother’s eyes, and it betrayed her conviction that she would likely not come back.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Sarah.”

 

Sarah’s world turned dark as the closet door closed tight. With no light to see, the sound of her bedroom door finally caving in was all that there was to comprehend. There was a loud crash as the dresser toppled to the floor, and then…silence.

 

At first, the lack of sound was ironically deafening, and then over her own heartbeat thundering in her ears, Sarah heard deep and raspy breaths emanating from the far end of her bedroom. Whatever was now in her room with her mother, it was now still, and in her mind, she could see both it and her mother staring at one another. For a moment, a blossom of hope erupted within Sarah’s chest. Then her mother spoke.

 

“She–”

S̸̢̯͖͈̤͙̬̳̰͈̗͎̣̗͓̰̰̰͇̻̥̤̘̙̙̭̰̻̫̳͎̟͚̗͗̃͛̇͂̄̓̅̍͂͛̚̕͜͜͜͠A̸̛͉̥̬̜̤̬͇̓͐̈́̌̈́̀̾̔̔͌̀̍̋̇̑̒̒͋̍̿̓̆̍͊̕͘̚͝͠ͅÂ̵͇̲̳̦̳̙̥̪̮̟͕̟̣̍̽̈́̿̽̑͆̀͋̋͊̊̔̓̂̽̆̕͝͝A̸̧̧̺̭̺̮̝̜̬̬͔̤̱͇͙͎͎̺̻̠̬̖̯̹̞̼͙̓Ṙ̶̢̡̨̡̛̗̙̪̦̼̤̫̩̰͇̺̮̜̞̹̫̰̜͙̮̤̪̤̙͓̑̎͛̇̔͆̋̋̒͐͆͆̄̐͛̄̔̾̐̑̊͑̂̎͂̿̌̀͊̾̿̅̒̀̚̕̚͝͝͝͝ͅÀ̶̢̢̜̞̻͚͙̤͈̱͎̋̌͂̅͒̽̀̎́̾͒̓̈̌̀̋͑̌͊̀͋͒̏̚̕̕Ḁ̷̧̢̧̛̱͙̯̮͈̘̼̳̥̗͎͈͖̞͔͔̹̳̖͙̞̹̝̙̈̉̂͒͂͊̃́̐̑̾̆̈̽̍̋̇̃̈́́̑̾͒͑̒̀̀̂́̍́̕̚̕̚͠ͅͅÄ̸̢̼̣̭̗̮̫̘̬͍̲͇͎̬Ȁ̴͙̝͕͕̹̳̩̪̗̙̠̙̟̘̮̠̤̬̪̤̝̦̖̞͕̉̋͆͑̇͒́͗̓̀̈̔͆̇͒̋̎̈̾͘̕͝A̷̢̤͉̞̘̥̻̪͎͎̩͔͇̗͑̐́͑̀͗̂̀͊̄͗̀͐́̓͂̀̉̔̈́̓̚͘͠͝À̷̧̡̱̜͚̩̤͇̬͉̗̼͔̝̣̜̖̓̀̅̎̉̃̾͑̐̐̀͌̌͂̊͌̎̀̀̂͌̈͒̉̿̈́̔̄͊́͘Ḩ̵̧͙͉̩̰̗̺̘̣̩̬̘͚̦̣͚͖̜̳̜̪͓͉̩̻͌̋͛́̀̉̑̓̊̉̓̃̿̒͗̉̔̈́̆̐͘͜͜͝!̷̧̡̨̮̜̼̥̰̺̪̼̹͚̫͍̠̣̳͇͇̫̝̠̺̠̗̙͔̤̰̗̯̬͕̣̓́̇̊͗̔̍̆̀̐̓̏̒̓̅̋̇̆̀̀̊̀̈́̓̄́̕͜͜͝ͅ!̶̢̙͔̭̬̩̮̔̀͐́̀̒̓̓̔̌̊̕̕͜͝͝͠͠ 

The sound of rending flesh carried over all else as Sarah’s world became deafeningly loud once more. She heard her mother cry out, then gurgle as though she was choking on something. Sarah clamped both her hands over her mouth to stifle her screaming as tears now streamed freely down her face. Her mother was still choking violently over the sound of the wailing and screeching, and grief almost forced her to her feet and out of the closet. She didn’t care if she couldn’t do anything to save her mother, all she wanted to do was–

 

“Mom?”

 

It was as though the whole world had been placed on mute. The scuttling and wailing ceased immediately, and Sarah’s heaving sobs were shocked into silence as a new voice came from somewhere.

 

“Mom? Is that you?”

 

It was her voice.

 

Sarah’s voice.

 

And it was calling out from somewhere downstairs.

 

There was a loud thud, then the wailing and screeching began anew, though this time the scuttling grew quieter as the intruder rushed from the bedroom. Sarah heard the scuttling all the way down the stairs and onto the ground floor.

“…̵͇̥̞̤̓͂̈́͗̀͒̋̎͐Ş̴̨͚͕̳̠͍̙͕̃̌̊A̶̢̧̛̦͚͓͙̤̗̮̳͌͂̓̂͊̈́̏̑̔́͋̕͝A̵̼̰͕͈̪̯̻̪͎͓͂̐͆́̌̎̄̍̌͘͜͜ͅR̸̨͈̯̖̼̣̫̞͖̻̘̆̽̄̊̀̐̅̇̀̓͒̓̄̓̕͝A̶̼͖̋̿͋̍̿̈͐̓A̸̞̫̱̟̬̺͓̖̹̟͉̳̼͕̎̓̿͊͝͝ͅH̸̡̛̙͈̻̗̰͚̃̂̓̃͗̎̎̽́̉̇̽͘̚͘…̷̭̹̘̠̹̥̀͋̎̅̿̀̊̀̈́͜”

It’s voice had quieted too, as though it was finally calming down from the innate rage it felt within. Suddenly, Sarah heard the distinctive blast of a firearm, and the layered screech of agony that pierced her ears even as she clamped her hands over them. The wailing of rampage then began in earnest as the sounds of battle blocked out everything else, and the entire house shuddered as it struggled to withstand the carnage within it.

 

Great shouts of pain sounded from the original intruder, and through the symphony of its torment Sarah could hear something else as well. It almost sounded like the barking of a dog, but it held the force of a lion’s roar, and it was only growing stronger as the cries of the original stranger grew weaker.

“...Ŝ̵̛̘̥̤̐̊à̵̘̱͖͎̲̈́̉å̸̬̘̒ą̴̦͕̲̔̅̽̎͠r̶̙̙̤̦̱̈́͘ŕ̴̤̯̟ä̶̬͎͙ą̵̝̰̣̟̈́͒͗͆͘ḁ̷̩̘̥̾ā̸͍̮̟̫̘̈́̏͋͊a̴̧̨͉͆͐͠—”

Its last call sounded desperate, almost as if it was crying out for help, but one final blast cut the scream off completely. The world fell silent for one last time, and then Sarah heard the sound of footfalls climbing the stairs again. Contrary to before, these steps were controlled and disciplined, the heavy thudding more akin to boots than solid flesh slapping against the wood. Behind it followed the slow and methodical lighter steps of a four-legged creature, and Sarah remained deathly quiet as the two sets of steps reached the top of the stairs and entered her room.

 

It was there that they stopped, and though Sarah could not see either of them, she knew that she was not hidden from them. They were fully aware that she was in the closet. Yet still, Sarah waited, not wanting to get up and face whatever horrid scene awaited her outside. A strange numbing sensation began to build within her as she remembered the sounds her mother had made on the other side of the closet door, and it spread throughout her whole body as she heard movement once again.

 

There was a soft thud as the two-legged entity knelt onto the carpet, seemingly examining something on the floor. Sarah knew what it likely was, and the thought caused the numbness to surge through her much faster. It was like she was being injected with it. There was then a faint rustle and a clink of something made of glass in the entity’s hands, followed by a soft pop and hiss that sounded like the opening of a soda bottle. A hint of confusion accompanied the numbness within Sarah as the contents of the bottle were slowly emptied. There was a pause, and then Sarah heard her mother gurgle and begin to cough uncontrollably. The sound of her voice was enough to snap the numbness from her, and before she knew what was happening, she threw open the door of the closet and stumbled blindly against the sudden light, desperate to reach her mother at all costs.

 

She fell to her knees as her vision adjusted, and then half gasped and half sobbed when she took in the room around her.

 

The door and dresser had been destroyed, throwing chips of wood and sawdust in every direction that Sarah looked. Her geology project, as well as the desk it sat on and everything else in the room, had been upturned and strewn about haphazardly. Small stones and geodes glinted against the dull amber of the wood, but what drew Sarah’s attention more so than the loss of her project was the blood.

 

Her mother’s blood.

 

It was everywhere, staining the carpet a deep red and even dotting the walls from when her wounds had spurted it, and yet despite it all, her mother sat up in the center of the room, hacking and coughing the rest of it but looking surprisingly healthy. Sarah ran to her at once, ignoring the other occupants in the room in order to reach her mother at last.

 

She grabbed her by the shoulders and looked anxiously into her mother’s eyes, which stared back wildly for a moment amidst her blood-soaked chin and clothes which had been nearly torn to shreds. Recognition then began to slowly appear on her mother’s face when she saw Sarah, and in the next moment she pulled her close into a tight embrace that drove the numbness from Sarah completely.

 

She then pulled back and looked anxiously at her daughter once more.

 

“Where did it go? Are you alright? What happened?”

 

As she took her daughter’s face in her bloody hands, Sarah frowned at her in anger as fresh tears formed on her eyes.

 

“ What happened?! You left me alone and then you…you…”

 

Sarah was furious as sobs overtook her again, and her mother held her close once more as she cried herself out.

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry you had to endure this. If I had only known…Is…is it gone?”

 

“The creature has been terminated,” came a chillingly metallic but overly polite voice from next to them.

 

Both mother and daughter jumped and looked apprehensively up to see a green-armored spaceman staring down at them. A dark blackish substance stained the green in splashes that Sarah recognized as some sort of blood, but none of it seemed to be coming from the spaceman himself.

 

And as if his appearance wasn’t alien enough, both Sarah and her mother jumped and backed away a few inches when they saw the other creature standing next to him.

 

A demonic wolf with bright amber eyes stared unblinkingly back at them, its jet black fur alight with flames that seemed to originate from beneath its coat. Numerous scars also scattered across its form, showcasing just how dangerous this creature was to those it considered its enemies. Where its snout and mouth should have been showed only bone, its fur halting just before its nose and jaw began. They both stared wide-eyed for a few moments between the members of the duo before Sarah’s mother spoke up again.

 

“Y-you, said it’s dead?”

 

“That is affirmative,” came the kind reply.

 

“But I remember, I…it…how am I alive?”

 

“We administered an elixir that was designed to accelerate your body’s natural healing process. It was fortunate that we did not arrive too late, as you would have likely not survived for much longer.”

 

Sarah felt a deep pang but could detect no animosity at all from the robotic voice, and she glanced at the blue bottle in question that the green spaceman casually tossed aside. A light blue label was displayed proudly on the front of the bottle, reminding Sarah of some of those old vintage sodas that she’d seen in certain candy stores. A glance to the shattered doorway reminded her that the ground floor of her house likely showed a carnage far worse than her own room had suffered, but she felt no urge to go down and investigate. The corpse of the creature was likely still down there…

 

“Who sent you?” Sarah’s mother asked.

 

“We came of our own volition. Although containment teams from your laboratory are well on their way here.”

 

The voice was indeed correct, as Sarah could hear sirens in the distance drawing closer to the house.

 

“I am also monitoring multiple calls from your neighbors to the local authorities. However, they are being rerouted and ordered to stay away by federal sources.”

 

“What…what do we do?” Sarah asked, the question directed to both her mother and the armored figure standing before them.

 

“It is my suggestion that your mother finds a new line of work, as I am sure the hazards associated with her current job are not worth any possible pay or benefits.”

 

There was no sarcasm in the voice at all, but Sarah’s mother gave a half-hearted laugh all the same. Somehow, her calm demeanor managed to return despite all that had just happened, and in spite of her incredulousness, Sarah found herself grasping onto her mother’s steadiness for dear life. The familiarity was more than comforting.

 

“And what about you?”

 

“We must be on our way, as we cannot afford to stay here long.”

 

“Well, then thank you,” Sarah’s mother said, standing up slowly and offering a hand to the armored figure who stretched his own hand out in return and shook it. “Though, I can honestly say that a simple “thank you” does not nearly express my gratitude for saving my life and that of my daughter.”

 

“I certainly understand, but you are welcome, regardless.”

 

With a final glance at the two of them, the armored figure stepped back with the hound and gave them a thumbs up with his gauntleted fist. Immediately, a flash of blue light engulfed them and followed with a loud bang. And when the light faded, both the spaceman and the hound were gone.

Notes:

A/N: So as many may probably have noticed, much of my inspiration for how this chapter went was inspired by the hit youtube animation by 'Axeman' and read by 'Let's Read'! It was honestly super chilling to me when I first watched it, so I have to commend all parties involved on delivering a spectacular experience with that video. I'd also highly recommend it to all you like horror animations/movies/videos/etc. With that, I must also encourage everyone to express their delight/disgust with the chapter by leaving a review, as I always strive to improve my writing by taking feedback from my readers. Hopefully, my writing hasn't fallen too far with the time I've had away, but be sure to let me know if it has. Until next time!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 37: Bulletstorm

Notes:

A/N: I'm back again! This time, I've got the Doom Slayer and co. arriving in the shooty world of Bulletstorm, and I think they might find themselves right at home in the planet of Stygia. Enjoy! Remember that I own nothing!

 

Bulletstorm

 

Despite the roar of gunfire and screaming of both man and mutant-man alike, the signature sound of an instinct leash arcing through the air could still be heard. The hard light that constituted the leash was a fierce and prominent blue, doubling as a profound influence on both eyes and ears as its distinct crackle thundered across the battlefield. The wielder of the leash, a Final Echo soldier clad from head to toe in the finest tactical gear the Confederation of Planets had to offer, was currently using the weapon to grab a hold of an unfortunate Skull Gang member by his ankle and hurl him sideways and over the edge of a cliff. The Skull bellowed the whole way down, but the soldier paid the psychotic screams no mind. For wherever one Skull went, ten to twelve more were not far behind.

Sure enough, just as the Final Echo soldier turned, more Skulls emerged from the twisted metal and junk piles that covered the once lush tropical paradise of Stygia, their bloodlust driven not so much by the loss of a comrade, but by the flesh beneath the Final Echo soldier’s armor. The cannibals knew that unlike the other humans or near-humans found on this planet, the soldier probably ate well, meaning that his body would be nothing short of a feast for the members of the Skulls if they were to bring him down. The soldier could practically see the cannibals salivating beneath their crude helmets and junk armor, and his response was to sneer beneath his own helmet and open fire on these crude barbarians. In his mind, there was no greater favor he could do for these animals than put them six feet under. 

Raising his rifle, the Final Echo soldier began killing off the skulls as they swarmed towards him, picking each one off with practiced precision that came with the elite training he’d been given. The malnourished cannibals spent their last moments hungry, as a few of them didn’t even have the time to draw their own weapons before they were quickly disposed of. With a fair amount of screaming and gurgling, the Skulls all finally fell silent, but unfortunately for the soldier, his moment to relax had not yet come. Just as the last Skull died, a far more distorted and feral war cry echoed from somewhere close, and from over the top of a nearby junk heap, a humanoid with no skin emerged, its body instead covered by a twisted gnarl of sickly orange muscle. Its yellowed eyes focused on the lone soldier, and upon seeing its prey, its exposed teeth began to chatter with animalistic anticipation. Like the Skulls, this former human had food on its mind, but its allegiance was to another gang that warred for resources on this barren planet. A gang of mutants that hated the Skulls almost as much as the Skulls hated them, a gang with far more savage tendencies than their human counterparts, with a name fit for a band such as them.

“Creeps…” the Final Echo soldier spat with contempt.

As agile as they were ugly, the Creeps were a direct result of what happened when the human body was forced to spend a prolonged amount of time in direct contact with hazardous toxic material, warping their minds to insanity and giving them a body to match. The Final Echo soldier was receiving up close and personal instruction on how deviant the Creeps were right now, as now they began to rise up from all directions and close in upon the sole human.

Realizing that the Creeps were attempting to flank him, the soldier threw his back against a large mountain of rubble and opened fire. He was able to drop a few of them before a high caliber round struck the rubble just a few centimeters right of his cranium.

Instantly, the soldier ducked low, simultaneously activating his leash and pulling the wreckage from a small airship in front of him as makeshift cover. Inwardly, he was seething with the knowledge that the Creeps had brought snipers, but in truth, he knew that he should have expected it from the start. If there was one thing that those mutie’ freaks did right, it was long range warfare. And now, the lone soldier was now within the scopes of likely two or more Creep sharpshooters.

All around the Final Echo Soldier, the Creeps began to rally and fire upon his makeshift cover, drawing closer and growling in those menacing and guttural tones they were so fond of. Gritting his teeth, the Final Echo soldier’s mind raced to concoct a way out of this mess he had found himself in. Unfortunately for him, however, any possible action he could take right now all converged on a single outcome: him being hopelessly and inarguably fucked six ways from Sunday.

Looking up to curse any and all deities that existed above, the soldier suddenly frowned as he watched a dark dot appear against the bleak orange haze that constituted the sky of this planet. The dot itself immediately became a point of interest to the soldier despite the numerous Creeps that were still trying to peel the flesh from his bones, due to the simple fact that it was growing larger by the second. The soldier frowned and prepared to dive away from the impact, but he froze as the dot suddenly changed its trajectory right before crashing directly into the Creep horde on the other side of the makeshift cover. Instantaneously the anguished sound of Creeps being crushed by the impact reached the soldier’s ears, and after taking a beat to steady himself, he jumped out of cover, raising his rifle to fire at anything that moved on the other side.

His helmeted gaze held steady as nothing but a cloud of dust could be seen, but the haze only hovered for a brief moment before dissipating, revealing whatever had just squashed the encroaching Creeps.

A twinge of surprise then gave the Final Echo Soldier pause as he saw that it was not a what, but a who. Rising out of a small crater that it had made, a figure donned entirely in a heavy green suit of armor arose from the dust cloud, its helmeted face completely obscured by the opaque visor that it sported. The figure’s attention immediately was fixed on the soldier as soon as it could see him, and the Final Echo warrior tensed unexpectedly at its stoic regard.

A sudden snarl filled the air as one last Creep suddenly jumped out from behind an overturned car frame, its gumless maw gnashing with rage and hunger as it discarded its weapon and charged the nameless figure, no doubt frenzied by the loss of its fellow Creeps and eager to tear the one responsible limb from limb. Mucus and spittle flew from its mouth as it bellowed in its charge, but it was immediately silenced upon reaching the figure, whose gauntleted fist promptly smashed into the mutant’s mouth at a speed too quick to follow. Teeth and tongue yielded little resistance to the stranger’s surprising strength, and the figure’s fist only halted its advance upon exiting the Creep’s mouth through the back of its head.

The Final Echo soldier’s jaw dropped inside his helmet as he struggled to comprehend the picture before him. The armored human before him had just punched through the Creep’s head with enough speed and force to completely emerge from the other side, and yet, the overarching  skull structure remained remarkably intact, leaving the Creep’s body hanging like a limp towel from the mysterious figure’s still-outstretched fist, held up only by what little bone and skin remained on either side of where the Creep’s lower face used to be.

All of this had occurred within the span of a second, and yet, the figure’s faceplate had not turned away from the Final Echo soldier once. It had effortlessly killed the Creep without even looking.

The soldier remained speechless as the figure’s arm slowly lowered back to its side, the Creep’s lifeless corpse sliding off the blood-slicked gauntlet at last. The sight of the corpse falling to the dirt roused the soldier from his shock, and he retightened his grip on his weapon and leveled it at this sudden newcomer.

One look over this figure’s armor told the soldier that this human was not an ally of the Confederation, or at the very least, not equipped like one. Its enigmatic craftsmanship matched no other standard-issue gear found within the Confederation military, and combined with the fact that this person had just deliberately killed a Creep meant that he or she could only be allied with one of two factions. They were either with the Skulls, or those Dead Echo pirates, and knowing that Skulls only used junk armor or stolen Confederation gear, that left only one conclusion.

The Final Echo Soldier grit his teeth with hostility and shifted his stance, ready at a moment’s notice to drop the Dead Echo scum where they stood.

“Nice entrance, scumbag. Too bad you won’t get a chance for an encore.”

The figure eyed the Soldier dangerously, and a metallic but surprisingly pleasant voice spoke up from within the armor.

“I do not understand your hostility. From what I have gathered, our timely entrance eliminated the threat you were under. Perhaps you would not mind filling us in on the reason for your animosity?”

“How about I ‘fill you in’ with lead until your corpse whistles when the wind blows?” The soldier spat. “You fucking Dead Echo traitors are the whole reason we’re stuck on this shithole in the first place. You bunch of lowlife, limp-dick, sacks of—!”

Had the soldier not been so shaken by the stranger’s entrance, he would have remembered the snipers that were still focused on his position. Blood sprayed from within his helmet as the high caliber round passed clean through his cranium, killing him before his brain even registered the muzzle flare.

…

The Doom Slayer was already in motion before the Final Echo soldier’s body hit the ground. In one smooth motion, the Slayer dropped to one knee and turned his body to face the direction the shot rang out from, drawing his assault rifle and firing a short burst the moment his armored knee touched the dirt.

He heard the second sniper’s shot pass directly through the space his head had been less than a moment ago, and he simultaneously saw through the scope of his own rifle the Creep sniper’s head erupt violently as his precise shots struck true. Without hesitating, the Slayer’s aim shifted slightly to the right to fire again upon the other Creep sniper, who flinched down into cover as a knee-jerk reaction to its companion’s blood splattering the side of its face. The Doom Slayer’s speed and marksmanship rewarded him with another small blood mist as the bullets just grazed the top of the Creep’s head, the mutant’s enhanced senses just barely saving it from annihilation.

…

The Creep let out a screech of pain as blood dribbled down from the top of its head. The bullets had broken its skin but had not delivered a vital blow to the bloodthirsty cannibal. The sickly orange fluid dripped down into the monster’s eyes, and the enraged humanoid angrily wiped it away with its arm as it hunkered low. In its psychotic mind, the Creep felt the seeds of desperation sink into its being at the speed of the armored gunman. It knew that if it so much as peeked out from behind its cover, it would be dead in a heartbeat. Its contorted muscle structure offered it enhanced agility and reaction time compared to that of a regular human, but whatever was inside that armor was beyond humanity. The thought alone made the Creep shudder and seethe through clenched teeth as it struggled to keep the blood out of its eyes.

Suddenly, a flash of lightning struck the junk-strewn ground in front of the Creep’s seated form, causing it to wince in shock as the light temporarily blinded it. A moment of blinking rapidly helped clear the Creep’s vision as the light waned, and in its place stood a hellacious-looking canine with jet black fur and glowing amber eyes. The Creep froze at the sight before it, unable to comprehend the creature out of fear and disbelief. Where the hound’s fur grew, flames sprouted as well, setting the beast alight and providing a nightmarish ambience to its form. The flames grew larger with anticipation as the hound growled between its skinless jaws, and its dark tongue licked across its razor-sharp teeth in anticipation as its eyes locked in on the momentarily forgotten blood that oozed from the top of the Creep’s head. There was a split second of silence, then the hound growled one more time before lunging hungrily for the mutant’s throat.

…

The Doom Slayer steadily lowered his rifle as the tormented screams of the mutated human echoed across the planet’s disheveled landscape. Upon arriving in this new dimension, both the Slayer and his canine compatriot had materialized far above the planet’s surface, letting gravity do the rest of the work in returning them to solid ground. As he had done many times before, the Slayer had been satisfied with landing by way of an uncushioned crash into solid ground, but the hound did not have the physical fortitude to effectively utilize such a method of landing. Instead, the demon dog chose to teleport safely onto the planet’s surface below, shortening its time in air considerably and avoiding becoming a smear on the world’s hard exterior. It had separated from the Doom Slayer as a result, but their time apart had been short-lived, seeing as they had landed directly on top of whatever conflict this planet had become a part of.

 After a spare moment, a flash of lightning in front of the Slayer heralded the hound’s return to him. The beast appeared to still be chewing on whatever morsel it had torn from its prey, and with a tilt of its head backward, the hound swallowed its food thankfully, the flames on its fur flaring with predatory delight at having cornered such a substantial meal.

The Slayer acknowledged the predator, then turned to where the now dead Final Echo soldier lay, his hands still grasping the rifle like a lifeline even in death.

“He seemed to associate us with a band of so-called ‘pirates’,” VEGA mused within his helmet. “He also was quite eager to assign us the blame for his stranding on this planet.”

The soldier’s disposition towards them before he died harbored little to no concern in the Doom Slayer’s mind, as he seemed much more interested in the complex technological gear that the Final Echo soldier had on his left hand. The small piece of tech was obviously of advanced design, and with a negligible amount of force compared to what he usually used, the Slayer tugged the device free from the dead soldier’s hand.

“Taking into account the make and design, I deduce that this device interacts with its user on a neurological level and is likely activated and wielded by a combination of physical and cerebral commands.”

After a thorough inspection of the device from front to back, the Doom Slayer held the object in his right hand before securely fastening it to the back of his left. The device molded itself to the Praetor Suit almost immediately, and small blue arcs of electricity surged through the Slayer’s arm as he connected to the device for the first time. VEGA once again spoke up as the new addition to the Slayer’s arsenal finished booting up and linking with its new user.

“It appears that I can interact with this ‘leash’ apparatus similarly to how I can access the Praetor Suit,” he confirmed as the Slayer examined the leash with a practiced eye and a flex of his fingers.

“The technology that it utilizes is quite intriguing, as the interface between neurological activity of the brain and the electrical components within the device itself are surprisingly simple. I believe it will provide us with solid tactical functionality in our future endeavors.”

Satisfied with VEGA’s analysis as well as his own, the Slayer gestured to the hound with a nod of his head, and the two of them set off across the messy war-torn surface of Stygia, searching for any clue as to what had happened what appeared to be a former utopia.

“I will continue to scan for any data that can further inform us about these ‘Dead Echo’ pirates the soldier mentioned,” VEGA said. “Perhaps they have had a significant effect on the devastation of this world.”

…

“Grayson!”

Christ, just hearing the man speak made Gray want to put a bullet between his eyes. The shit-eating grin he was wearing on his face did not help much either.

“General Fuckhead…” Gray growled.

“Awful damn kind of you to aid Trishka in my rescue,” General Sarrano continued with mock cheeriness, stepping forward and patting Gray on the cheek as he did so. Sarrano then turned to the woman in question, his eyes briefly looking the Final Echo commander up and down in a manner that was downright creepy at best and straight up perverted at worst.

“Trishka, please show this mutinous pile of excrement our appreciation.”

The general then turned his back to them both in a conclusive manner and began surveying the ruined city below him, looking all-too-proud with himself.

“We have something to straighten out first,” Trishka replied dangerously, leveling her rifle at Sarrano’s back. The general turned back toward her with a mixture of indignation and slight confusion on his face, but mostly indignation. In all honesty, Gray enjoyed seeing the good general like that.

“Did you kill my father?” Trishka seethed, her own anger once again flaring now that vengeance might be finally at hand.

If Sarrano was surprised by the question, he didn’t show it. Instead, his scowl deepened, and he placed his hands on his hips in clear annoyance, seemingly not at all worried about the heavy caliber rifle pointed directly at his chest.

“I know fuck all about your father! Grayson here, he’s manipulated you!” came his curt reply.

At this, Gray’s temper flared as well. All of those years of lies and killing were freshly unearthed upon seeing the general again, and he grit his teeth angrily before raising his own rifle to the general’s head.

“Tell her the truth!” Gray barked angrily.

“Put the gun down,” came Ishi’s serious tone from his right, and Gray glanced sidelong at his partner to see that his rifle had been raised as well, the only difference was that Ishi’s was trained right on Gray’s head instead of General Sarrano’s.

“Are you kidding me!?” Gray asked incredulously. Standing right in front of them was the source of all of their problems and Ishi was pointing his weapon at him ?

“I am not,” came Ishi’s slow but dangerous reply. “Your righteous indignation has cost me enough.”

Gray felt himself hesitate as he scanned his friend’s face, or well, what was left of it. Their crash on this world had destroyed almost half of Ishi’s body, and in order to save his life, Doc had replaced most of the damaged parts with cybernetics, which also included swapping out a good chunk of his damaged brain with a robot’s bioprocessor. Since then, Ishi had been in constant conflict with the bioprocessor’s A.I., every second was spent resisting its attempt to overrun his mind.

Looking at Ishi now, Gray looked over the patch job Doc had done. Putting things mildly, it did not look good at all, and Gray still felt an agonizing twinge of guilt and regret when he saw what his drive for revenge against Sarrano had cost. Doc and Rell were both dead, and Ishi was now half-man, half-toaster. Ishi’s cybernetic eye glowed a malicious red as he kept his gun unwaveringly trained on Gray and Trishka, and his remaining human eye regarded them just as coldly. Gray knew that it was the bioprocessor trying to take control, but Ishi had grown harder and more distant since the crash, and it felt like a sucker punch to the stomach when Gray realized that he was slowly losing the only friend he had left.

“Sarrano will have an evac jumpship coming for him. I will be onboard, as you promised me,” Ishi said with finality, leaving no room for argument.

At this, Sarrano cackled heartily and clapped his hands together.

“Well well! Looks like I got a new best friend!”

That comment alone almost made Gray squeeze the trigger and splatter Sarrano’s brains all over the rooftop, but he unclenched at long last and slowly lowered his rifle. He couldn’t believe he was doing this.

“Alright, Ishi, a promise is a promise.”

Christ, he hoped Ishi realized just how much restraint that took just now. So much so that Gray felt like he might have an aneurysm any second. Ishi kept his rifle trained on him for a moment longer, then shifted his aim towards Trishka, who still had her weapon firmly pointed at Sarrano.

“I am wholly uninterested in whatever bullshit you people have to resolve!” the Final Echo commander spat at the two of them. “And if either of you had a hand in the death of my father, I’ll die happy knowing I took you down with me!”

Gray kept his expression neutral. That was definitely going to be a fun conversation later, especially since it had been Dead Echo that had been the ones who had greased her old man, with none other than good ol’ Grayson Hunt as their leader. It had actually been the death of Trishka’s father that showed Gray and the others what kind of people Sarrano had them hunting. All those bullshit reports of hunting down slave traders and weapons dealers were lies fed to them to cover up the fact that they were nothing more than assassins that killed anyone that got in Sarrano’s way. Political rivals, witnesses to war crimes, innocent civilians, and of course, reporters all got added to the pile. Gray had lied to Trishka when she’d asked him earlier if he knew who it was that pulled the trigger on her father, but that secret was gonna get out at some point, and Gray had really hoped to at least not be on the same planet as Trishka when she uncovered the truth.

It was at that moment that Sarrano started to laugh again, and holy hell did Gray want to smash his teeth in.

“Okay, okay, I can see that we’re all a bit upset here, but good friends, we have bigger fish to fry right now.”

Their conflict briefly forgotten, both Gray and Trishka turned their attention back to the general. Trishka’s rifle stayed where it was.

“The corporation that built this putrid mistake resort on this putrid mistake planet has commissioned me, at great cost mind you, to detonate a DNA bomb that will dissolve all life on this mud ball while leaving the city perfectly intact, allowing said corporation to come in and rebuild.”

Gray found himself growing increasingly agitated at Sarrano’s ever-present tone of condescension.

“Maybe not the best time to bore us to death with your mission deets, Sarrano ,” Gray growled.

“Well now, hold your dick for one second you fungal rimjob,” Sarrano retorted. “because this said DNA bomb is set to go off in two hours. My rescue squad won’t arrive with a jumpship for three hours. Now then, Gray, can you do the math and tell me the problem we face, or are you gonna need some help from Sushi Dick over there?”

Sarrano jerked his thumb in Ishi’s direction, and Gray saw his friend bristle at the comment. Ishi’s weapon still remained pointed at Triska, who let out an angry sigh of resignation before slowly lowering her rifle.

“He’s telling the truth,” she said begrudgingly. General Sarrano turned towards her with a shit-eating grin on his face, then quickly stepped forward and gave Trishka a hard push with both hands, throwing her backwards off the rooftop of the seventy-five story hotel ruins they were currently standing on.

Gray’s eyes shot open wide as he registered what just happened.

“No!” he shouted as Trishka’s scream of surprise and rage began to decrease in volume. “You son of a bitch!”

In a flash, his rifle was pointed back at Sarrano’s head, but the general simply smirked and raised his finger in a halting gesture.

“Tut-tut, think for a second, boy. You kill me, no jumpship home, and you both die anyway.”

Gray knew that Sarrano was right, but that didn’t help much with the urge to hurl the good general over the side of the building as well.

“The way I see it, I just did you a huge fuckin’ favor,” the general continued in his matter-of-fact tone. “She would have discovered that your Dead Echo squad were the folks what done killed her old man, and it would’ve had to be you or her walking out of that little confrontation anyway.”

The general stepped away and looked to the clouds brewing far on the horizon as the sun began to set.

“Now come on you dandy tarts, gamma storm is a-brewin’, and unless you pus-dicks want to enjoy the savory feeling of your own flesh melting off your bones, we need to get to cover, find our way to the Ulysses, and deactivate that bomb.”

Sarrano cackled to himself and picked up Trishka’s rifle from where she’d dropped it a moment ago, then turned and began striding towards the exit, his cocky self-assured gait enough to make Gray’s blood boil. He turned his head to the ledge that Trishka had just been pushed over, listening to see if he could still hear her screaming. Nothing reached his ears.

“Be sensible, Gray,” came Ishi’s voice, and Gray looked over to see that he had finally lowered his rifle. His cybernetic eye had returned to its usual blue, indicative that he was once again in control of himself, and the metallic echo that was a result of his partially replaced voicebox had subsided, letting the human part of his voice hold dominance.

“We still have the opportunity to get out of here alive.”

Gray looked at his friend’s face for a long moment, then sighed and started after the general.

“Not so sure I can live with sensible, Ish.”

…

Trishka was royally pissed. Falling to your death tended to have that effect on people. The last thing she saw was Sarrano’s pervy grin before he pushed her over the ledge of the roof. Next thing she knew, she was tumbling head over heels on a fast track to the pavement. Righting herself in midair, Trishka’s eyes searched desperately for anything to help her avoid becoming a puddle on the ground.

“Come on…come on…fuck…fuck… fuck !”

Trishka was about to exercise her entire vocabulary of swear words when her eyes spied a long powerline running adjacent down the building next to her. As she looked, she saw that the powerline ran down the building for just a little bit longer before leveling off to connect to the next building on the street. That was how she was gonna survive this.

Gritting her teeth, Trishka hurriedly removed her belt from her waist and wrapped it around the powerline. The powerline leveled off at somewhat of a shallow angle, but she knew that when it did, the force of the momentum was likely going to dislocate her shoulders. It certainly beat the alternative, however.

Trishka braced herself as best as she could, then let out a shout of frustrated agony as the powerline leveled off, slowing her fall considerably. The next moment was filled with dread as the powerline suddenly snapped, as it had not been designed to handle the weight of an adult woman.

It was at this time that the curses started coming from Trishka’s mouth as she spent the last ten feet of the drop in free fall, hitting the ground hard and feeling a sharp spurt of pain as something snapped.

“Gaaargh!” Trishka bellowed out as she rolled to a stop, not daring to move until she had pinpointed exactly what part of her had just been broken. She very quickly discovered that it was actually what parts had been broken, as in plural. Swell.

It was her left ankle and forearm. That was a problem. Actually, that was a huge problem. The forearm might have been manageable, but with her ankle busted, she was going to have some serious trouble getting off this planet, or anywhere for that matter. And even though those two were the only parts that were seriously injured, it didn’t mean that everywhere else was hunky-dory either. All of her ached, and though it wasn’t a huge priority, Trishka was fairly certain that she’d cracked a few ribs.

With an agonized grunt, Trishka forced herself into a sitting position and scanned her surroundings. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be any enemies around, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be soon. For now, she needed to focus on getting out of the middle of the street.

Just as she was about to move, Trishka was momentarily blinded by a bright flash of light and a loud boom that sounded like thunder. Trishka screwed her eyes shut and looked away, but Final Echo training did not fail her, and she instinctively reached to her hip with her good hand and drew her sidearm, pointing it towards the disturbance. The light faded as well as the noise, and Trishka opened her eyes to see…uh…

“What the hell?”

Before her stood what looked like some kind of weird zombie wolf. Its skinless snout and glowing amber eyes made Trishka think that it was some kind of mutant like the burnouts, but her theory was chucked out the window when she saw that its jet black fur was on fire. 

Continuously on fire.

All in all, its appearance didn’t exactly help Trishka in believing that this demonic-looking creature had good intentions. It was probably hungry, and it had probably acquired a taste for human meat long ago. Her finger slowly moved towards the trigger on her sidearm.

“I would ask that you please refrain from doing that.”

Trishka jolted towards the sound of the sudden voice, her broken body vehemently reminding her that it was still broken. With a hiss of pain, Trishka leveled her pistol at the source of the voice, which had the appearance of some kind of astronaut-soldier hybrid. Their dark green armor was all-encompassing, so Trishka had no way of telling who or what was even beneath it.

“Get back!” Trishka ordered. Shifting herself to fully face the newcomer, Trishka let out another sharp hiss as her broken bones screamed at her. The figure stared back at her, but made no move to increase the distance between them.

“You hearing me? I said get back !”

Once again, the figure didn’t move.

“It appears that you are in need of medical attention,” the voice from within the suit said instead. “If you would permit us, we can assist you.”

“Yeah, fat chance, asshole. Now get back before I put a second hole in your a–!”

Faster than Trishka could react, the armored figure activated a previously unnoticed instinct leash on his left gauntlet. The leach arced through the air and latched onto her sidearm, and before her eyes even registered the light, the figure flicked their wrist back, wrenching the pistol from her hand.

“Hey!”

Trishka’s protests were cut short in the next moment as the figure caught the pistol in their hand and crushed it as though it was made of tin foil. Broken pieces dropped to the ground as the figure released the now useless weapon, and Trishka stared wide-eyed at the remains. That was…unexpected. 

“If it was our intention to harm you, we would have done so already,” the voice said, ever-pleasant despite the tense situation. “The severity of your injuries has left you vulnerable, but we can return you to full physicality as long as you cooperate.”

“Look scumbag, I don’t even know who the hell you are. So if you think I’m gonna let you do anything with me, then you’re dreaming!”

“It is my belief that we can both benefit from assisting you,” the voice patiently replied. “We have just arrived on this planet and are looking for clues as to what led to its destruction. In exchange for mending your injuries, we would ask for your assistance in understanding what happened here.”

“So I help you, and then what? You gonna wave a fucking magic wand and patch me up, is that it?” Trishka bit back. She was still fuming from having her weapon taken from her. That had been twice today that someone had stolen a gun right from her hands, and it was starting to get really fucking annoying.

“You will be administered an elixir that will greatly accelerate your body’s natural healing processes,” the voice replied. “It will not be instantaneous, but your injuries will heal in approximately two to three minutes.”

There had not been even a trace of sarcasm or humor in that statement, and Trishka sat in an expectant silence for a few moments waiting for the punchline. When none came, she turned her incredulous gaze back to the zombie wolf, taking in the absolute craziness of the current situation.

Just so she had her facts straight: some weird soldier with super strength, an instinct leach, and a pet demon canine was offering to fix her broken bones with some sort of magic beverage that was going to completely mend her body in less than five minutes? Did that sound about right?

No, of course it fucking didn’t. None of this was normal. At all. And unfortunately for her, she did not have much choice but to go along with it. The alternative was to maybe get to cover before the gamma storms hit, but then she’d get vaporized when the bomb went off in two hours anyway, and her chance to find out who truly killed her father would be gone. The thought alone pissed her off to no end.

Drawing her knife, Trishka held it menacingly out to the figure for a moment.

“You or your lapdog over there try anything, and I mean anything , and I’ll tear your throat out, got it?”

It was an empty threat, and everyone present knew it, but having the knife at least made Trishka feel better.

“Very well,” the voice replied. The figure then stepped forward. “We will need to set your breaks before we continue.”

“What?! What was all that shit about your ‘magical elixir’ then?!”

“The elixir only accelerates the healing process. The bones still require proper alignment in order to mend properly.”

Before Trishka could protest any further, the armored figure firmly grasped her left arm in their gauntlets and shifted the bone back into place, which prompted Trishka to verbally assault them with every vulgarity under the sun. The figure then also immediately set her ankle afterward, and the only reason why Trishka didn’t attempt to stab them with her knife was due to the fact that she lost consciousness for a few moments.

When she came to, the figure produced a blue soda bottle and handed it to her, which she eyed skeptically. She had already figured that the beverage itself would be unorthodox, but this just looked like some kind of knock-off vintage soda. The label read “Quick Revive”, and she raised an eyebrow at the stranger who simply stared back expectantly.

“This is it? This looks like something they sell at a fueling station.”

“While its appearance may be misleading, its effects are not,” came the reply.

Trishka stared back for a moment, then shook her head and popped the cap off the soda bottle with her good hand. With one final glance at the stranger, Trishka took a small swig, her face immediately scrunching up at the flavor.

“Ugh! This tastes like pickled sardines. What the hell is in this thing?”

“I do not know the ingredients, as I did not have the chance to inquire when we received it.”

“Great, so I could be drinking bottled sewage for all we know? That’s a whole bundle of fun…”

As Trishka took another swig, she began to feel the lingering pains and aches in her body start to fade, and though she should not have been surprised, she still did a double take when she saw her miscellaneous cuts and bruises begin to minimize and disappear. Her forearm and ankle began to tingle as well, and she could feel movement beneath her skin as the bones began reknitting themselves at a supernatural rate. She sat in awe for a small time as the cola did its work, and after a few minutes, she slowly attempted to move her forearm. Apart from some lingering stiffness, the limb was fully restored. A quick check of her ankle yielded similar success, and with a glance at the stranger, she slowly rose from her seated position to her feet. She felt…good.

Looked from the wolf to the stranger, then sheathed her knife and glanced back up to the roof she had fallen from. Shit. General Sarrano and the others had probably already made for the Ulysses crash site, and they had a head start on her. She turned back to the figure.

“Alright spaceman, we gotta move. You wanna full rundown on the world of shit around you? Then you better listen up and keep close.”

…

“Keep the pace ya’ fruitfuckers! We gotta lot of ground to cover before we hit the underground.”

Gray’s confusion at the general’s choice of destination warred with the spike of anger he felt each time Sarrano opened his stupid mouth, but after a resigned growl, his confusion reigned supreme.

“Underground? What about the Ulysses?”

“Obviously that’s our destination, dumbnuts, but the underground is the only way of keepin’ clear of those gamma storms. Luckily, we got worker entrances scattered all over this festering rock. The nearest one is in the basement of this building.”

Gray examined the decor of the hotel they were currently descending. After leaving the roof, the trio had tracked down a couple of floors and crossed between buildings using a skybridge. This hotel had been very similar to the one they had just left. The evidence of money being thrown around was everywhere. Intricate marble pillars stood cracked and ruined in the hallways, leaving rubble all over the once high-quality carpet that likely carried no less than thirteen different types of STDs. 

“Who was working under the city that required so many entrances?” Ishi asked. “Are these workers just another term for slaves?”

The general laughed heartily then.

“Slaves? More like a bunch of convicts and reprobates given a second chance they didn’t deserve. Traded their labor for a slightly reduced sentence.”

“And what happened to them?”

As if to answer Ishi’s question, a sudden war cry rang out from down the hall. The cry was unmistakably human, and emerging from behind once-expensive overturned furniture and upholstery appeared a band of Skulls, likely finding shelter from the storms brewing outside.

Despite their presence, Gray felt a twinge of relief. He’d been itching for something to shoot every since he’d first seen Sarrano again. At least now, he had an outlet.

His rifle was already raised by the time the Skulls noticed them, making his first few shots most effective before they ducked behind cover. Blood sprayed over the carpet as the bullets struck true, and Gray heard the sounds of Ishi and Sarrano following his lead. Similarly to what Gray had seen with the other Skulls he and Ishi had encountered so far on Stygia, these guys had little to no tactical training. The three of them were more for a match than the small band before them, but after just half a minute into the firefight, Gray peeked over his cover to see the doors at the other end of the hall swing open, with two heavily-armored chaingunners appearing from the room beyond. Gray could see lightning flashing from the windows as the gamma storm reared its ugly head at last, which only served to cast the two heavy weapon enemies in an even more intimidating glow.

“Ah, shit! We got heavy weaponry!” Gray called out just as the chaingunners began to open fire on their position. Bullets pelted their cover by the hundreds, and Gray knew that despite the integrity of the fallen marble chunks and metal, they couldn’t weather a dual chain gun assault forever.

“Well?! Are you just gonna sit back and announce it all day?!” Sarrano shouted irritably from his own cover over the hail of gunfire. “How ‘bout you get to doing the one thing you’re good at, boy? Fuck something up!”

Gray once again briefly considered that something to be the general’s head with the butt of his rifle, but instead he grunted and peeked ever so slightly out of his cover to gauge the situation. The chain gunners were slowly walking to the front of the Skull formation as they kept up their gunfire, their slow gait a dual result of both their heavy armor and recoil. Gray glanced to the sides of the hall to see a few marble pillars still mostly intact, then smirked as a plan formed in his brain.

“Here goes nothin’...”

Activating his instinct leash, Gray cast the long whip over to the nearest marble pillar, and as soon as it had latched on, Gray gave a big heave with his whole arm. The nature of the leash meant that it amplified his strength as he utilized it, and with an incredibly loud groan, the marble pillar toppled to the floor directly on top of the two chain gunners. A large cloud of dust and debris spewed up from where the pillar landed, creating a boom that rattled the foundations on the hotel.

“Hell yeah! Two for one!” Gray whooped as the leash retreated back into his gauntlet. More gloats of victory were on the tip of his tongue, but they died completely as the dust cloud dissipated, showcasing that the two chain gunners were still standing, more dusty than before, but otherwise unharmed.

“What?!”

Looking down, Gray saw that the pillar had only missed them by a few feet at most. It had fallen directly in front of them. The two armored behemoths shared a glance, then began to whir their weapons up for another salvo when a large rumble sounded from the ceiling. Looking up, Gray saw that the pillar he had just brought down had actually been supporting quite a bit of the upper floor’s structural load, a load which was now completely bolstered. The floor above immediately began caving in, and though the debris was still not enough to crush the two heavy gunners, it was the open sky above that was their undoing. With the roof above them now completely open to the sky, there was nothing to shelter them from the storm. In the span of a millisecond, gamma bolts rained down on the two gunners, and Gray heard their muffled screams from their helmets as the radiation easily pierced their armor, frying their external and internal anatomy at the same time. Within moments, the two chain gunners were vaporized, and Gray took advantage of the Skulls’ stunned silence to place a few well-aimed shots into their turned heads.

After taking a few precautionary moments to ensure that no more Skulls remained, the trio started forward, sticking to the right side of the hallway to avoid the radiation leaking through the ceiling to their left.

“Exercise caution when near the storm,” Ishi warned as they passed close to it.

“Ahh, quit your whinin’, Sushi Dick! I trained you better than that. Besides, as long as you got something solid between you and that little cosmic flurry, you’ll be fine.”

Ishi gave a hard glare in Sarrano’s direction, and for the briefest moments, Gray thought he saw a twinge of red in his cybernetic eye.

“And I assume that these gamma storms are the cause of the mutations we’ve seen on this planet?”

“What do I look like? A fuckin’ tour guide? Them slanty devil eyes of yours don’t see so good, huh?

This time, Ishi grew visibly angry.

“Another racial slur, and I will hurl you into that storm!”

The good general smirked.

“Weakest bluff yet, you prancin’ Geisha…”

“How about you start talkin’ about something useful for once, general?” Gray butted in. “Like how did anyone even think it was a good idea to build a resort in the middle of a god damn gamma hazard zone?”

“Gamma filters were destroyed during the worker’s revolt, boy,” Sarrano quipped back. “Buncha pinko socialist queers thought they weren’t being treated fairly. And now look around!”

The general gestured with a broad sweep of his arm to the carnage and forgone resort around them.

“This is what happens when you show a little bit of leniency to fuck-offs!”

“You mean slave revolt, right? All these workers they had working beneath the city were convicts.”

“Convicts that were given another chance!” Sarrano continued without missing a beat. “Low-life nobodies who were given a chance to build something for once in their worthless, fuck-all lives and pissed it away!”

Gray grit his teeth as they made their way down to the entrance. The whole story of this god-forsaken place was starting to unravel, and even though he had already figured so, he did not like how the story was going so far.

…

“I am intrigued by the concept of these “Burnouts” you refer to, Commander Novak. You have already informed us that they are humans that have been exposed to high amounts of radiation and have mutated as a result, but remain quite dissimilar to other mutants such as the Creeps that we have already encountered.”

“Yeah? Well you’d be the only one interested in seein’ more of ‘em,” Trishka snorted as she led the Slayer and the hellhound through an abandoned building that supposedly held an entrance to the underground. “I’d rather be as unfamiliar with them as I can, preferably a star system or two away.”

“Your description of them insinuates that their mutations are far more extensive than that of the Creeps. Is this due to a different form of more potent contaminant?”

Trishka shook her head as though she had wished that was the answer.

“Burnouts are born from the same god-forsaken radiation that the Creeps are…they just been exposed to it for a lot longer. and likely in much higher doses.”

A brief glance in the Doom Slayer’s direction betrayed no emotion or cue that he was listening save for his silence. In truth, Trishka doubted that this guy really did not miss much, so her conversation with VEGA still likely held his attention. The mention of the Burnouts had piqued VEGA’s interest, but Triskha had a feeling that it had been deemed important info by the Slayer as well. Any information that could be gathered on your enemies could prove priceless in the hands of someone like him.

“Either way,” Trishka continued. “The origin story of those freak-bags isn’t what I’d call family-friendly, but I’m sure you’ll be able to see that for yourself shortly.”

They had entered the next room, which appeared to be an underground garage or parking area. After a brief sweep, Triska gestured to the far side of the garage, which had a mostly intact lift sitting inconspicuously in the corner. Too large to be a simple passenger elevator, the lift’s wide base and high guardrails seemed idea for hauling equipment and heavy tools, which barely surprised Trishka given that this was on of the many lifts on-world that could successfully connect them to the underground, as it had done with so many convicts before.

A quick trip to the other side of the garage found all parties present boarding the lift, with the hellhound giving a hesitant sniff at the shaft that extended far below their feet and into the darkness before fully climbing aboard. Trishka gave the demon-wolf another glare as it sniffed around the small platform, still feeling a slight twinge of bewilderment that something so otherworldly as a hellhound really existed. Maybe it really didn’t, and maybe that fish-flavored cola that the Slayer had given her had simply caused her to hallucinate the creature.

That was just wishful thinking, of course, as she hadn’t drank the cola until after meeting the hound for the first time, leaving her with a tired sort of resignation that her entire understanding of the known world, or known universe for that matter, had been completely dismantled.

With a firm pull of the down lever, Trishka took her eyes off the hound to glance at the Slayer for a moment before ensuring that her rifle was fully loaded as the lift begrudgingly began to sink down into the shaft.

“Alright you two, er three, I guess…”

The hound seemed to know that she was addressing it, and it turned its head to her as though it was paying attention. Trishka honestly had no frame of reference with devil-canines to guess how much it actually understood what she was saying, but she decided that existential questions such as those could take a backseat for now.

“...we’re headed into the real shit now, so I suggest you get your game faces on before one of the fucked up monstrosities down there rips it off ya’.”

Neither the Slayer nor the hound seemed shaken by any means to Trishka’s warning. Instead, the Slayer produced a pump-action shotgun of his own and began loading shells into it. The hound simply shook its head back and forth a few times as if to focus itself on the task at hand. The ever-present flames on its back grew in intensity by a small amount, a sign that Trishka figured meant it was ready.

Thinking ahead to what they might encounter down there, Trishka frowned as she couldn’t quite picture how these two anomalies might act in a fight. She supposed she would find out soon enough.

…

“Behold, the Dirt-Pen, shitheads!”

Sarrano’s shit-eating grin was blaring at full volume as he presented the sight to both Gray and Ishi. The lift they had nabbed had finally emerged into a ginormous underground cavern, and Gray felt his eyes widen at the bountiful prison architecture that filled the otherwise empty space. Levels upon levels of cell blocks and administrative buildings had been constructed using the cavern walls as supports, and though they were dwarfed by the gargantuan size of the cavern itself, Gray could tell even at a distance that they were no small-time prison digs. The corporation that had funded this had spared no expense, and apparently no prisoners either. There was enough infrastructure down here to hold the equivalent of three small colonies’ worth of convicts. The intimidating sight was solidified even further by the river of glowing green ooze that flowed across the cave floor right through the prison.

“Damn,” Gray mumbled aloud. “This is enough for more than a thousand inmates…”

“Twenty-eight thousand, to be precise,” the general chimed in.

“And the toxic waste?” Gray questioned, gesturing to the river flowing through the prison yard.

“Byproduct of the city's gamma filters. You know, the ones that protected the population from those big scary storms like the one you just walked through? City officials stored it down here while diggin’ up a place to bury it up in the hills.

“Only an irrational lunatic would consider that to be a good idea,” Ishi replied curtly.

“Well, they did. And after just a few short weeks of stowing it down here, the yardbirds started getting sick. Started dyin’, mutatin’ even. So of course, the brilliant little ball-tuggers decide to demolish those pesky gamma filters. No more filters, no more waste, get it?

“Nothing to protect from the storms…”

Sarrano gave a small cackle. “Convict cocksuckers didn’t think that far ahead, did they?”

“What else remains down here?” Ishi asked directly.

“Big-tittied blowjob models with yellow fever, the fuck do I know?” Sarrano replied with a roll of his eyes. “Just shoot anything that ain’t me or each other. That’s all you both are really good for anyway.”

Gray ignored the remark and readied his weapon as the lift came to a halt and the guard rails slid back. Whatever was down here he was ready for it…

…and it was a good thing he was because they had not made it more than fifty feet through the cavern before Burnouts were upon them.

Mutated to the point of being charred black, their large and warped bodies made them nearly as agile as the creeps and three times as strong. As a price of their mutation, however, their minds had completely succumbed to their animal instincts, making them mindless and bloodthirsty monsters that would tear the head off of anything that wasn’t them. Luckily, their mutations were highly unstable, giving them bloated and volatile pus sacks all across their anatomy that, if ruptured, would tear them in half if one were to get a lucky shot into it. And Gray took full advantage of that knowledge by easily picking off the first unlucky ones with a few minimal bursts from his rifle. Fortunately enough for them, the pack of Burnouts they encountered was relatively small, and they got through them easily enough.

“Ah, good to be back in the shit,” Sarrano cockily gloated to himself. “Don’t you two worry, you're back in Papa’s care now.”

“Stuff it, general,” Gray grumbled as they climbed a set of stairs and onto a large balcony that overlooked the heavily fortified prison yard. “Or someday very soon, someone is gonna shut you up for good.

“Oh? And I bet you’d just looove to be that special someone wouldn’t you boy?” Sarrano taunted. “Oh I bet your hairy asshole is just puckered with anticipation about the perfect moment when you can deliver sweet retribution, isn’t it? Well guess what ya’ scum-suckin preemie baby? You can’t lay a single finger on my beautiful head, or your buddy over there–”

The general was immediately cut off as a Burnout that had been hiding behind the corner jumped out and tackled Sarrano over the balcony and down into the prison yard. Gray’s hand lunged out to grab the general none-too-gently before he tumbled over, but his fingers closed around thin air at the last second as both Sarrano and the Burnout fell into the enclosed yard below. Both hit the ground with a solid thud, and before the Burnout could rise to charge once more, the general had leveled his rifle and successfully fired a controlled burst right into a pus-filled pocket on the beast’s shoulder. The force of the explosion ripped the Burnout’s torso clean from its body, and neon red blood sprayed everywhere as the pieces twitched and then fell still.

Once the general was sure it was dead, he coughed twice and slowly rose to his feet. Both Gray and Ishi looked down as he sneered back up at them.

“Yall ain’t shit for coverin’ corners!” Sarrano barked up at them. “Anyhow, get your candy-lickin’ asses down here and open the door!”

As if by some delayed response, Gray turned his head to the sound of more Burnouts arriving on scene. Together, the monsters congregated outside the reinforced door to the yard, banging against the metal with fierce abandon that left an additional dent each time their large mutated fists struck.

“Balls!” Sarrano cursed as he saw the dents appearing on the other side of the door. “You two lollipops hurry up! Bad trouble is a knockin’!”

“There is a passage that leads down to the yard up ahead,” Ishi noted. Gray wordlessly nodded, and the two of them started down the hallway, listening to the mutated cries of the Burnouts converging outside the general’s temporary prison.

“Spent the last ten years dreaming of murdering Sarrano,” Gray grumbled as they walked. “Now I got the golden opportunity right here in front of me and I gotta piss it away…”

Gray noticed that despite the fact that Sarrano was their only ticket off this rock, neither of them seemed to be in a hurry to save him from the Burnouts below. It didn’t really take a genius to understand why.

“You could have killed him, Gray. You had opportunities,” Ishi remarked.

Gray glanced sidelong over at Ishi, once again feeling the pang of guilt that came with seeing his only friend left in the world half converted into a mess of machinery.

“I gotta get you out of here, Ishi. I gotta undo some of my mess.”

Ishi was quiet for a moment, then he looked back at Gray.

“Those many years ago, after we discovered the truth about Sarrano, we could have disappeared into the outer quads, hidden and been safe.”

Gray gave a hollow laugh at that.

“But I dragged you all to the far reaches of the known galaxy huntin' the good General. Yeah, I know, Ishi.”

“I don't think you do.”

Gray paused for a moment to see Ishi meeting his eye. The two of them had stopped walking for a moment.

“Your thirst to murder Sarrano for his crimes was never about revenge, it was a righteous mission to avenge the many innocents he used us to kill. You lead us on a quest for atonement. A chance to reclaim our souls. I always knew I would likely die for this pursuit.

Hearing Ishi describe his actions in such a way could almost be considered humorous, as no one that had ever met Gray would ever describe any of his actions as “righteous”.

“You think too highly of my motives, Ishi.”

Ishi ignored his comment.

“No matter what happens, no matter what I say as I lose possession of my mind, know this: you are my brother, Gray. I followed you of free will, and I do not hold you accountable.”

Gray was stunned. He had no idea where all of this had come from just now, but he couldn’t help but feel like some of the crushing burden he had been carrying was lifted from his shoulders at hearing Ishi speak just now. For the briefest of moments, it had seemed like the good old days, back when Rel and Doc were still alive and Ishi didn’t sound like he was speaking through a desk fan. Seeing as how they were taking a moment to be open with each other, Gray spoke something that had been on his mind since way earlier that day.

“You remember the Novak job, Ishi?”

“How could I forget? It was the start of all of this, the day we discovered Sarrano’s crimes.”

“Yeah…Trishka was the little girl that was there that day. Novak’s own daughter. And I failed to stop Sarrano from killin’ her.”

Both organic and cybernetic eyes alike widened with Ishi’s reaction to the news.

“I…I had no idea,” Ishi admitted, his human side holding clear dominance as his surprise overpowered the bioprocessor for the time being.

“Yeah well, first thing’s first, Ishi. We’re gonna get to that jumpship. But once we do…"

“...we’ll scalp that motherfucker,” came Ishi’s passionate reply. He gave Gray a knowing nod, then turned to continue down the hallway.

“For Trishka.”

…

At that current moment, Trishka’s entire definition of the word “brutality” was being rewritten. She had joined the Confederate army as soon as she was old enough to enlist, had endured the most grueling and cutthroat training that the Confederation of Planets had to offer, had graduated top of her class with perfect scores across physicality as well as marksmanship and tactics, and had executed over twenty-five successful missions as a Final Echo Squadron Commander, the most elite of the elite. Up until now, she had been fairly certain that she had a grasp on what true brutality was.

Unfortunately for her, the Doom Slayer, his A.I. companion, and his vicious hellhound seemed to be more comfortable with what she would call brutality squared .

They had encountered a rather sizable nest of Burnouts just shortly after arriving underground, far more Burnouts than Trishka thought a two-man fireteam could handle. She had immediately attempted to retreat and find a way around, but the Slayer had vetoed that idea by charging headfirst into the enemies. Literally, he had leashed the first Burnout he laid eyes on and had headbutted it in midair so hard that its upper body had exploded into no less than five pieces.

Trishka then watched dumbfounded as the Slayer and his hound called upon whatever arcane strength they possessed to annihilate the Burnout presence. It had been nearly a blur to Trishka as the Slayer started into his enemies, driving forward instead of seeking defensive cover in an all-out attack against the mutants. For as strong as he was, his aim was twice as good. Every single time that shotgun kicked in his hands, it killed something. Sometimes it killed more than one thing in a single shot, but it never missed.

The hound was no different. The wolf-demon moved at a supernatural speed through the Burnout horde, sinking its teeth into the sensitive flesh pockets and initiating the chain reaction that would cause the Burnouts to blow up. Despite the fact that they exploded with the hound’s jaws still firmly clamped to them, the bursts of blood and gore did not deter the hound at all. In fact, it only seemed to increase its appetite, and soon, its formerly bone white snout was dyed a deep neon red from the blood, casting an even more sinister aura about the creature as it attacked.

In tandem, the Slayer and the hound worked as though this was where they were most comfortable, on the battlefield slaughtering enemies by the dozens in an overwhelming show of force. And by the time Trishka shook herself from her stupor to join in the battle, the Burnouts had almost been entirely wiped out.

A few shots from her own peacemaker dropped the last Burnout before the hound had a chance to pounce, leaving the battlefield silent for a few moments as the Slayer wasted no time in kneeling down to examine his fresh kills. The hellhound also showed interest in the corpses as well, though only to tear large chunks of flesh off the remaining legs and torsos for a quick meal. It didn’t seem like the beast was a picky eater.

The group started off once more after a few moments, Trishka leading them utilizing her memory of the maps and terrain that Final Echo had received in their initial briefs before arriving on this planet. The Slayer and the hound followed alongside, the journey suddenly seeming relatively mundane after the Burnout massacre they had just partaken in. The ironically deafening silence pulled Trishka into her own thoughts, and try as she might to focus on revenge for her father, questions continued to build up unanswered in her mind. Eventually, her curiosity overcame her desire to remain silent.

“Alright, start talkin’. Where the hell are you guys from anyway? Am I looking at some kind of mad scientist’s experiment gone wrong here?”

“I do not know the origins of the hellhound, Commander Novak. However, a failed genetic experiment is a possible theory as to the creature’s existence. The true origins of the Doom Slayer are largely unknown as well. In contrast, I was created by a man named Samuel Hayden to facilitate the effective operation of a research facility on Mars. Though it is not the Mars that you know.”

“What does that even mean?”

“The Mars that both myself and the Doom Slayer met on is within a different dimension. Another alternate universe that exists separately from yours. Are you familiar with multiverse theory?”

“I’m familiar with stomping some geek’s brains out at a bar after he told me that every possibility exists due to it, including one where we ended up back at his place. Does that count?”

“To an extent, yes. Multiverse theory suggests that alternate worlds coexist simultaneously in separate spaces. Each dimension can have only slight differences than the next, or it may be extensively dissimilar. The Slayer, the hellhound, and myself all originate from dimensions alternative to this one. It is also theorized that there exists an infinite number of these alternate universes, which also suggests that every possible outcome and setting is valid, just in a different universe.”

“Christ, that’s convoluted,” Trishka said with an annoyed shake of her head. “So…what? You’re all from the dimension where soda acts as a miracle cure and dogs are on fire?”

“The hellhound and the Perk-a-cola both originate from a different dimension than myself and the Doom Slayer.”

“Seriously? You’re not even from the same one? Do you just hop around dimensions like a goddamn stroll in the park?”

“Unfortunately, our means of traveling across dimensions is uncontrollable at the moment. We are unable to choose our destination when we initial the sequence. Our current plan is to continue traversing alternate universes until we return inadvertently, or until we find a dimension with the means to send us back to our origin.”

“If that’s the case, then why even bother sticking around here?” Trishka snorted with a hint of distrust. “This obviously isn’t your home, so why not just warp out when you realize you’re in the wrong place?”

“There exist instances where we have done exactly as you say, Commander Novak. However, if there is discord or otherwise a situation that we may assist with before departing, we will intervene until the situation is under control.”

Trishka shook her head.

“Right, keep going like that, and you’ll never get home. You just told me that there’s an infinite number of these dimensions, right? That’s a lot to comb through for something that can send you back. Paired with the fact that you’re making pit stops along the way? Good luck with that.”

“I am unable to accurately estimate the length of time that will pass before our return, Commander Novak, but it is fortunate that our lifespans can accommodate…”

“Ok,” Trishka cut off with a dismissive wave of her hand. “If you’re gonna pull out some shit about you two being centuries old or something then forget about it. I think I’ve put up with enough reality-shattering crap today, so quit shovelin’ it.”

The Slayer turned his head toward her for a moment, then fixed his helmeted gaze back on the path in front of them. If VEGA had been offended by her comment just now, he gave no sign of it.

“Very well. I believe our initial conversation regarding these Burnouts was interrupted by their attack. I believe you were nearly to the point of explaining their origins, Commander Novak…”

…

With a final smash of a button, the lift slowly began to rise, and Gray felt overwhelming relief at finally getting out of the underground. After they’d managed to save Sarrano again from the Burnouts they’d continued through the tunnels with minimal resistance, walking quickly and adhering to the good general’s foul-mouthed directions on where to go. According to him, the Ulysses would only be a short walk away from where the lift let them out, and the radiation storm should be well past by now.

“Finally getting away from that toxic goo,” Gray mused. “Guess we know what twisted those inmates up.”

Sarrano’s laugh came like nails on a chalkboard to Gray’s ears.

“You don’t know shit all! You’re killin’ up Confederate citizens, boy! After the convicts started their own revolt, the tourists that missed the evac ships all congregated down here to hide from the rampaging prisoners topside. Real darn shame that they had to be all cooped up down here with nothin’ but irradiated food and toxic air to breathe, ain’t it?”

The realization hit Gray in the gut like a punch. All the Burnouts they’d been fighting down here hadn’t been an extra mutation of Skulls and Creeps, it’d been the vacationers that had come to this planet. All the people had no choice but to hide from the gangs if they’d hadn’t been able to make it off-world when the uprising happened, so they’d hidden in the underground prisons around the planet. And the goo…it had mutated them far worse than it had the inmates…

“Jesus…”

Sarrano’s hollering laughter grew even louder.

“Might’ve been some kindly school teacher, maybe a mother of three you just gutted back there? Ha! I sure as hell wouldn’t be surprised!”

“You should learn to better hide the elation in your voice,” Ishi remarked dangerously as the lift came to a stop. After departing the lift, the three of them emerged into what appeared to be a commercial business building, or at least, what was left of it. Instead, most of the infrastructure in at least a square mile had been utterly destroyed, and one look at the center of it all left no doubt in Gray’s mind as to what had done this.

“Look at her! Just look at what you treasonous sons of whores did to my baby!”

The Ulysses lay before them, scorched, torn, and still on fire in some places as it sagged like an empty husk into the Earth. Even as it was, Gray still marveled at the size of the battlecruiser, the armaments and crew requirements had made it the crown jewel of the Confederation fleet, and now it was worthless.

“Alright, there she is,” Gray conceded. “Let’s get in there pronto and get this bomb disarmed. Sarrano! What kind of clock we running?”

“One that has just recently been fucked in the face, you shit whistlers! We get in there now, or—”

“Everyone dies,” Gray replied sarcastically as they closed in on the Ulysses. “We know.”

“Yeah, and you know what? My crew is already dead, aren’t they? Dead on account of Grayson Hunt. You’re free to add mass murder to your rap sheet now, boy!”

It didn’t take a genius to see that Sarrano was fuming about seeing the Ulysses like this, and it was unlikely that he was willing to let the subject go. Just Gray’s luck.

“What?” Sarrano pushed. “No snappy repartee for me? No smartass back talk?!”

Gray was about to throw out a response when he realized he didn’t have one. There really was no excuse for this one. He was undeniably, irrefutably to blame for all of the deaths onboard Ulysses. He’d been so hellbent on revenge against Sarrano that he’d rammed the A-class battle cruiser straight on with their small D-class Spectre, dooming all of them as the ships crashed onto the planet below. This one was on him, through and through.

“In case you need a reminder, Hunt, Ulysses had over seven hundred souls onboard. Here. They. Lie .”

Sarrano gestured towards the destroyed ship as they began to climb the rubble towards one of the hull breaches wide enough to fit through.

“Give it a rest, Sarrano,” Ishi snapped. The general ignored him completely.

“These are human beings you killed, Gray. They had families, people countin’ on em. How much pain and misery do you reckon you just spread throughout the galaxy?”

“I’d say we’ve both done our fair share,” Gray growled.

“But we ain’t talkin about me. We ain’t lookin’ at the piles of dead folks I killed.”

As if to emphasize the general’s point, bodies began to enter Gray’s field of view. Torn up and beaten corpses of both men and women alike littered the rubble, blood stains darkening the rocks and concrete and deep red splashes.

“You lookin’ at em, boy? Some of them are eaten, some mangled and toyed with…guess the Burnouts are here.”

“I could use something to shoot,” Gray replied darkly, his mood reaching a breaking point.

“Yep, and yet again we are reminded that killin’ is all you’re good for,” Sarrano quipped one more time before a deep roar sounded throughout the rubble site. One by one, Burnouts emerged from the ruptures and cracks in the hull of the Ulysses, thirsting for more prey amidst the rubble. Gray gladly answered their rage with a hail of gunfire, as did Sarrano and Ishi. The Burnouts were feral, but they weren’t cohesive, and there weren’t many of them either, making their mindless dash to get to their prey something of an arcade shooter in Gray’s eyes. At the very least, it made him forget about Sarrano’s quips for a moment.

Heh, I’m like fuckin’ Duke Nukem over here…

“Awful quiet over there, Hunt. Ponderin’ those bodies, I reckon?”

Asshole…

“Bout to ponder one more, Sarrano!” he snapped back.

“Ohhh, scary!”

Yet again, Gray restrained himself and directed his frustrations at the Burnout pack, aggressively picking them off as quickly as they emerged. When no more spawned from the twisted metal and rubble, the trio slipped through a significant breach in the hull and into the Ulysses. As Gray looked around the passageway they found themselves in, he noticed that the interior of the ship didn’t look all that much better than the exterior did. Destroyed wires dangled and arced into the air as their semi-active voltage went unutilized by the ship’s systems. The framework of the walls had been severely compromised as well, resulting in warped hallways and sagging overhead plating that they sometimes had to crouch to get under. As their pace slowed to fit through the hallway, Gray heard Sarrano speak up once again.

“How much time you reckon we got left, boys? Tick…tock…tick…tock…Either of you gettin’ nervous yet?”

As usual, his sentence was punctuated with vile laughter.

“Shut your fucking trap,” Gray snapped angrily, which unfortunately only seemed to fuel Sarrano more.

“Awww, baby in a fussy mood? All that guilt is buildin’ up, ain’t it? I bet seein’ them bodies didn’t help much either now did it?”

The group emerged into a larger room, and Gray noticed that they had stumbled onto the evacuation decks of the Ulysses. Rows upon rows of escape capsules lined the walls around them and above them. Enough to jettison all seven hundred crew members of the Ulysses if it needed to. But there was only one thing about this deck that Gray focused on, and Ishi voice in the next moment mirrored his thoughts exactly.

“These escape capsules. Only half were used!”

“Didn’t exactly have a lot of time after y’all sucker punched us!” Sarrano replied annoyedly, and Gray immediately seized the opportunity to turn the tables on the good general.

“Took down your battlecruiser is what we did. Dropped your prized warbird with nothin’ but a D-class Spectre. I bet that stings a little bit. And while not all of your crew managed to get to the escape capsules, I know that you did. Women and children first, ain’t that right, general?”

Gray’s quip seemed to work, and the general finally shut up for once. The silence was certainly welcome, but Gray’s focus was quickly drawn to what little time they had left before this DNA bomb was supposed to detonate. The idea seemed to be fresh on Sarrano’s mind too, as the good general wasted no time in leading them towards the next passageway.

Just a little bit longer…

…

“Well, there it is,” Trishka said with an overtly grand gesture to the ship before them. “The Ulysses, all its former glory notwithstanding.”

As the Slayer and the hound took in the sight of the massive ship, Trishka felt her thoughts turn back to Sarrano now that her destination was so close. Sarrano definitely knew something about her father’s death, and she was certain that Gray and Ishi were also hiding something from her, but she hadn’t trusted either of them from the start, so she’d never stopped being wary. Her thoughts drifted to a bunch of what-if scenarios in her head, with one standing out far more than the rest:

What if Sarrano is truly the one that gave the order to kill my father. What then?

That question on its own had an easy answer, but unfortunately for Trishka, there was a wrench thrown into the system. The ship that was supposed to rescue them from this hellhole was originally only coming for Sarrano, and if he was dead, then no trip off this rock. At first, Trishka hadn’t cared about making it out alive; her only mission was to hunt and find her father’s killer, and if she didn’t make it out because she killed her only ticket, then so be it. But now, Trishka might have just found a way to have her cake and eat it too.

“Hey VEGA,” Trishka called as she started toward the Ulysses, noting the presence of both human and Burnout body parts strewn about the rubble. “You said you're some kind of super A.I. right?”

“I am certainly advanced, but I have yet to encounter an A.I. within this dimension, and my functionality is also largely dependent on how much of myself I can bring online at once. As a result, I am unable to provide a frame of reference as to my abilities at this time. Would you like me to share my more technical specifications?”

“Don’t care about any of your sciency shit right now,” Trishka replied. “All I need to know is one thing.”

There was a brief pause as they continued forward.

“Can you synthesize voices?”

…

“Engine room, dead ahead!”

“Thank God,” Ishi said with a tone of relief. “I am not accustomed to mission success."

With a final code entry, Sarrano opened the door into the main engine room. Much larger than many of the other spaces they’d been in so far, the metallic walls and red hue did little to minimize the intense sight that was the DNA bomb. Sitting in the center of the room, the bomb was easily large enough to be mistaken for a small submarine. The cold metallic surface was marked only by an easily identifiable radiation hazard symbol, which chilled Gray to the core to look at. The only other item in the room besides the bomb itself was a small control panel sitting right next to it. Gray’s eyes then widened confusedly as Sarrano marched right past the control panel and to a door across the room. The door led to what seemed to be an observation booth, and Gray could see the glass separating the booth from the room the bomb was in.

“Hey! Where you goin’? Defuse this fucker!”

“It’s safe guarded, stupid!” came the general’s curt and semi-rushed reply. It seemed even Sarrano was starting to get ansty about defusing the bomb in time. “The defusal process takes two people. I gotta turn the key in there the moment you input the deactivation code, or it’ll trip the bomb! Now get over there while I read off the code. Hurry!”

The general’s relative lack of a potty mouth was enough for Gray to take him seriously, and he gave a quick nod before hustling over to the panel while Sarrano entered the observation booth, leaving both Gray and Ishi in the bomb room. From behind the glass of the observation booth, Gray saw Sarrano take his position at a similar looking console.

“Ready?” came the general’s voice through a static microphone. “One wrong move, and it’ll blow!”

Gray shared a glance with Ishi, who gave a steadfast nod of encouragement.

“Alright, go!”

“Enter the following code on the keypad in front of you,” Sarrano’s voice replied. Gray licked his lips and placed his fingers on the keys, ready to type.

“U-R-A-D-U-M-F-U-K.”

Sarrano annunciated each letter clearly and carefully, and Gray was so focused on inputting the code correctly that he paid no attention to what the letters actually spelled. Keeping this bomb from killing them all seemed slightly more important than criticizing Sarrano choice in passcodes. Once he had finished typing in the codes, Gray looked up from the console.

“Code is in.”

Gray watched as Sarrano then inserted a key into the console inside the observation booth and turned, causing a yellow button to begin flashing on Gray’s own console in the bomb room.

“Now, press the yellow button to confirm,” came Sarrano’s next instructions.

Gray’s hand hovered for a moment, then pressed firmly down on the button. Immediately, the sounds of whirring machinery and electronics filled the bomb room as the process was initiated. Gray frowned at the noise however, as it did not sound much like the tone of a bomb being disarmed or shutoff, more like something had been energized or set in motion…

As if to answer his question, the yellow button he just pressed suddenly shifted to a deep red, pulsing slowly and giving a low ping each time that it did. It seemed almost like it was ticking.

Gray’s attention was drawn from the button by the irritating sound of Sarrano’s maniacal laughter through the static of his microphone. The general was holding his sides as he struggled to compose himself from laughing so hard.

“I fail to see what is so humorous here,” Ishi said suspiciously.

“You ball-sacs done shit the bed again!” came Sarrano’s gleeful response. “You just armed the DNA bomb!”

Gray’s stomach dropped down to his feet. The bomb had been inactive this whole time, and now they had aided the general in rigging it to blow. And to make matters worse, Gray could now see that there was another door leading out of the observation booth the good general was in. Gray and Ishi did not have the door codes to move about the Ulysses as Sarrano did, meaning that they were now stranded in the room with the bomb and that the general was free to leave as he pleased.

“You son of a bitch!” Gray spat, lifting his rifle and firing directly into the glass that separated them from Sarrano. To his dismay, the glass held, obviously made to withstand far more punishment than his rifle could deliver. Through the cracked window, Sarrano chuckled once more.

“Well, I’d love to stay and chat more, boys, but I got a flight to catch. Got a bottle of scotch waitin’ onboard. Hell, maybe I’ll get a secretary to give me a good mouth suckin’. Good luck, buttfuckers!”

With that, the general turned on his heel and strode from the observation booth, disappearing through the alternative exit and out of sight. His laughter echoed from where he departed.

“Alright Ishi, map us a way out of here!” Gray said in a half state panic.

“I cannot,” came his friend’s reply. “These reinforced walls are too thick to scan through!”

Gray grit his teeth in rage. They had been so close to finally killing Sarrano just to have him slip through their fingers yet again. And this time, they were going to pay for it with their lives.

“Cock-fucker-rimjob-piece-of-shit…okay…okay. There’s gotta be a way out of here. Look around, there might be an emergency hatch or something.”

“Perhaps this is a just end, Gray.”

Gray turned and stared incredulously at Ishi. After being so adamant about getting off this rock before, now he was choosing to give up?

“You can’t be serious!?”

Ishi calmly nodded his head, both his cybernetic and organic eyes showing his conviction.

“I would rather die at peace than frantically pushing against fate.”

“I caused all of this, Ishi. And if I die without setting it right, then there ain’t no kind of peace awaitin’ me. There has to be something we can do–”

A sudden boom sounded from behind the entrance to the room they were in, instinctively causing them to raise their rifles to the source of the noise. The boom sounded again, as though someone was attempting to force their way inside the room.

“We’ve got company,” Ishi said in a low voice, planting his feet and staring intently at the door.

The booming then fell silent for a moment, then the door opened and a lone figure stepped through.

“Miss me?”

Gray immediately lowered his weapon.

“Trishka! Deus ex machina. How in the hell did–?”

“What am I, some kind of Sally Buttercup?” came the snarky reply that Gray had come to appreciate over the course of the last seven hours. “I’m a goddamned Final Echo Squadron commander for Christ’s sake! Now come on, this place is falling apart.”

Gray and Ishi wordlessly complied, both more than eager to escape the room with the bomb. Speaking of which…

“Sarrano tricked us from the start,” he said as they sprinted through the passageways towards the exit. “The bomb was never set to go off, all he had us do was arm it. And now he’s headed to the dropship rendezvous without us!”

“That much I figured,” came Trishka’s reply. “Thankfully, I planned ahead. I got some folks heading him off.”

“You encountered another ally?” Ishi’s voice asked. “Another one of your Final Echo soldiers?”

“Not quite, but believe me when I say that it's better you meet em in person. Tryin’ to explain things now would leave you with more questions than answers.”

“Hey, anyone helping us bring down Sarrano is an ace in my book! Now let’s go, I’m feelin’ all murdery!”

Within minutes, the three of them had exited the Ulysses and were back outside once more. Trishka informed them that the dropship was en route to the spaceport, and that thankfully, she knew the way there.

As the three of them set off towards the spaceport at a brisk jog, Trishka called out to Gray over her shoulder. 

“Hey, get on comms on that leash of yours, they guys I’m working with should be on the same frequency.”

Gray wordlessly nodded and activated the communications section of the instinct leash, the blue light whirring to life. Gray gave it a moment before speaking into the the microphone.

“Yo, whoever’s listening, this is Grayson Hunt. I’m here with Trishka Novak, anyone copy?”

“Hello, Grayson Hunt,” came a surprisingly pleasant yet metallic voice from the leash. “I am VEGA. We have locked in on your position thanks to the homing beacon function on your instinct leash. Please find cover, and we will rendezvous with you shortly.”

“Roger, see you in a few, VEGA,” Gray replied, slightly put off by the nature of the voice he heard on the other end. Gray ended the transmission then called out to Ishi and Trishka.

“You heard the man, get off the street! Right there should do!”

Gray pointed to an abandoned commercial building just up ahead, and Trishka and Ishi both acknowledged as the three of them made their way through the front doors. They immediately found themselves in a lobby of some sort, and they wasted no time securing the area. Once they were sure it was safe, Gray reestablished comms with VEGA.

“What’s your ETA, new guy? Dunno if Trishka filled you in, but we got a DNA bomb set to go off in–”

The wall in the back of the room suddenly exploded inward, causing the three of them to take cover and train their weapons on the source of the disturbance. Through the now massive hole stepped a figure Gray had never seen before. The figure was covered completely in a suit of dark green armor, and though there wasn’t much else to go on, Gray felt a nagging feeling that this guy was not to be trifled with. The feeling was solidified as a hellacious looking wolf-dog followed closely behind the green-suited figure, its glowing amber eyes and skinless snout a minor talking point next to the flames that coated its fur.

The thing that completely drew Gray’s attention however was the cargo the figure was carrying. In one hand, the figure held a menacing looking shotgun, and in the other, sputtering profanities and curses that would make even the saltiest of sailors blush, was the good General Sarrano.

Weapons were lowered as the figure stepped further into the room and unceremoniously threw Sarrano to the floor.

“You shriveled dingleberry-cock-throb!” the general spouted. “You got even half a fuckin’ clue who I am?!”

“Your attention shouldn’t be on him, general ,” Trishka seethed, training her rifle between his eyes for the second time today. “Now that we’ve got a moment, I think it’s time we picked up where we left off before you shoved me off a fuckin’ roof!”

“Trishka!” Sarrano said with mock cheeriness. “Glad to see that sweet little can of yours is still shakin’! Now how about you cut the shit and get me to the spaceport?!”

“You’re not going anywhere, Sarrano,” Gray said, pointing his rifle at the general as well. “You’d be wise to listen to the lady.”

“Well now, where have I seen this before?” Sarrano said, thoughtfully tapping his chin. “Ah yes, if I recall correctly, I’ve still got a supporter, ain’t that right, Sushi Dick ?”

Gray grit his teeth as Ishi’s rifle came to bear on him for the second time that day. To make matters worse, Gray could see the red in his cybernetic eye. The bioprocessor had wrested control once more.

“Lower your weapon, Gray. I will not ask again.”

“Come on, Ish, he’s right there!” Gray implored. “This may be our last chance!”

“Now that Sarrano has been reacquired, I once again have the opportunity to escape this planet,” Ishi replied coldly, his natural voice almost completely drowned out by the A.I. “If you have changed your mind about helping me, then I see no reason not to–”

Ishi’s sentence was abruptly interrupted as the armored figure activated their own instinct leash and latched onto the robotic side of Ishi’s body. The cyborg jolted and let out a cry of surprise as the leash interfaced with the circuitry within him, then he fell to one knee as the figure withdrew the leash after a few seconds. For a moment, Ishi remained on one knee, his breathing labored as though he’d just run a marathon. Then, as if he’d just woken from a dream, Ishi rose back to his feet, looking around wildly like he was just seeing the world for the first time.

“The A.I…” he said breathlessly. “It’s gone…no, it’s just ceased its assault on my mind…I can think clearly…the voice…it’s gone!”

“Ishi?” Gray ventured.

Ishi turned to look at Gray, his face a mixture of elation and relief. “Gray, the bioprocessor has been silenced. I no longer am in constant conflict with it. It just…fell silent! I am myself again!”

“The bioprocessor that replaced the damaged portions of your brain was programmed to constantly attempt to seize control of any equipment it interfaces with,” came the same metallic voice Gray had heard over the leash, only now it was coming through a speaker on the armored figure’s suit. “While such a function can be beneficial in revitalizing a damaged power grid or computer network, it was never designed to interface with neural networks like the human brain. If it manages to gain complete access, it can overwrite the memories and neural pathways that already exist there. It is a testament to your mental fortitude that you did not succumb to its programming, Ishi Sato.”

“You…I thank you…” Ishi began, still slightly emotional from his reawakening. “But what did you do to me?”

“I was able to interface with the bioprocessor through the instinct leash,” came the ever-polite reply. “I rewrote its source code to now only remain confined to the electronic components of your anatomy. It now receives commands directly from your brain and serves only as a relay to your cybernetic components. It will no longer attempt to gain control of your mind.”

“I am truly grateful. I assume you are the VEGA that we spoke with before.”

“That is correct, though I am not–”

“Hate to break up the mutual bullshittin’ but how about we circle back to the fact that we are still standing on a planet that’s about to get blown to shit by a DNA bomb?!”

Sarrano’s voice cut through the air like a knife.

“Well spoken, Sarrano,” Trishka growled, her rifle still trained on him. “So how about we speed this along?”

Trishka’s next words came out slowly and dangerously, her eyes narrowed and her teeth clenched.

“Did you kill my father ?”

“Sure I fuckin’ did!” Sarrano said gleefully. Trishka’s finger jumped to the trigger of her rifle immediately, but Sarrano interrupted before she could squeeze the trigger.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, now just hold your fire there dandelion! Ain’t you just a wee bit curious as to who I gave the order to? It’s a doozy!”

Trishka clenched, but her trigger finger didn’t move. Sarrano’s grin broadened at the sight.

“Dead Echo,” he said with a thumb jerk toward Gray and Ishi’s direction. “Number one candidate for the job! That puke-dick right there, the same man that killed my crew and your Final Echo squad.”

Trishka’s eyes glazed over, her face slowly turning toward Gray such betrayal and animosity that Gray didn’t even think was possible.

“Y-you…you…you!”

Her rifle was pointed at Gray in the next second, and though Ishi raised his own to train it on her, Gray lowered his and held out a halting hand.

“Whoa! Okay, look, you got every right to kill me, Trishka. But you need to know, Sarrano used us. He used all of us. He lied to us about the targets we were assassinating.”

Trishka barely seemed convinced, but Gray didn’t care. He was willing to die if it meant he took Sarrano down with him, and if it meant Trishka found some peace as well, then…to hell with it.

“That’s why we went rogue, Trishka. That’s why I attacked the Ulysses. I thought that by killing Sarrano I could undo what we did, maybe find some redemption…but all I did was kill more people in the process…”

“Stop this, Trishka!” Ishi replied. “Think! This is what Sarrano wants! He’s just manipulating you!”

“Guilty as charged!” Sarrano said. “But lest you flea-ridden fuck-heads forget, you still need me to get off this planet!”

Trishka gave Gray a murderous glare, but she begrudginly turned her attention back to Sarrano.

“I’ve already thought about that, general. VEGA, you got everything you need?”

“That is affirmative, Commander Novak. The data I have collected is sufficient enough.”

“What the hell are you limp-dicks talkin’ about? Are y’all so fuckin’ re–”

Sarrano's tirade was cut off as his head exploded in the next moment, Trishka finally raising her rifle and finishing the job she had joined the Confederate military for.

“What are you doing?!” Ishi cried out as Sarrano’s headless body slumped to the floor. “I wanted him dead as well, but he was our only ticket off world!”

“Relax,” Trishka replied. “I already got that worked out. VEGA, show him what we got.”

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely darlin’!” came the voice of a dead man from the speakers of the armored suit. “Might not be perfect, but it’ll sure fool the soldiers on the dropship now won’t it?”

Gray did a double take. The voice had sounded exactly like Sarrano’s. It was like he was in the suit instead of a headless corpse on the floor.

“No way…”

“We use the voice to get the dropship to land, then we take control before they realize we’ve duped ‘em.”

“They will still require a visual confirmation from the sky,” Ishi pushed. “We cannot present a headless corpse as alive and hope that they will take it.”

“Which is where you come in,” Trishka finished, pointing at Gray, who widened his eyes in surprise. “You’re going to don the now dead general’s uniform and play the part until they land that dropship.”

Gray’s gaze went from the corpse on the floor and back to Trishka. It was a good plan, but Gray could still feel the unresolved tension in the air.

“Look Trishka…”

“I know he manipulated you, Gray. Believe me, I get it.”

Gray hung his head, still feeling the guilt more presently than ever.

“I don’t blame you ok, but we can talk more about that once we are off this rock. Now strip down and get into the dead man’s uniform.”

Gray then saw that the uniform wasn’t exactly clean by any standards. The most obvious of which was the copious amount of blood in the neck region from where Sarrano’s brains had splattered. In addition to that…

“You know what people do in their pants when they die, right?” he called over to Trishka, who had taken to scanning out the window for a clear path to the spaceport.

“Call it your punishment, Gray. Now quit whinin’ and put on the dead man’s shitty pants!”

A glance over to Ishi and the armored figure gave Gray no comfort, so he signed and set to work.

…

As it turned out, Skulls and Creeps alike were drawn to the dropship as it flew into low orbit. Their path to the spaceport had been anything but boring, but as both Gray and Ishi came to find out, the armored figure, or “Doom Slayer” as he was apparently called, was more than up to the task of clearing the way. A couple of miles and a few hundred corpses later, the group had arrived at the spaceport, no worse for wear.

Trishka’s plan worked like a charm. A few slur-ridden sentences from VEGA and the presence of Gray in Sarrano’s uniform was enough to convince them to land, and once the dropship touched down, the rest was mostly handled by the Slayer. Unbeknownst to the four of them, Sarrano’s personal security detail, Heavy Echo, had arrived in the dropship to escort the general to safety. There had been a brief scuffle to be sure, but the Slayer packed more punch than anything their top of the line weaponry and training could offer, and now the entire detail was unconscious in the brig, many with broken limbs or cracked bones.

Everything after that had been easy, and before any of them knew it, the bridge had been commandeered. The dropship warped out of the system before the bomb even went off.

Now, settling in on the bridge and finding a place to get out of Sarrano’s bloody and shitty uniform, Gray relaxed in the captain’s chair, a course already charted to the outer rim of the galaxy, where they could lay low and avoid the no doubt numerous bounty hunters looking for them right now. Trishka and Ishi were both preoccupied with star charts in order to plan a route that would encounter the fewest Confederate patrols, and the Doom Slayer, as always seemed to be the case, was tending to his weaponry, the hound was sleeping nearby on the deck, it’s flaming fur barely more than embers in its slumbering state. Looking back to Ishi, Gray cleared his throat.

“First thing’s first Ishi, we gotta get you to some proper biotechs. You know I love you, but your face is gonna be the most recognizable mug in all four corners of the galaxy with a look like that.

“That is unfortunate,” Ishi replied, his sense of humor fully reinvigorated thanks to VEGA’s reprogramming of the bioprocessor. “I look like quite the badass right now.”

“You look like a washing machine,” Trishka snorted.

“Sounds like we got our first stop planned,” Gray said amusedly. He then turned to the Slayer, who sensed his gaze and looked up from the shotgun he was cleaning. “How about you big guy? Need us to drop you somewhere?”

“I am afraid you do not possess the means to take us where we need to go,” VEGA said, his voice somehow conveying no condescension despite the nature of his reply. “However, now that your situation is stabilized, we must move on.”

“Oh yeah, I surprisingly forgot that you guys are from way out of town, huh? Well either way, thanks. For everything. Who knows what might’ve happened if you guys hadn’t been there with us today?”

“It is my conjecture that today’s events may not have turned out well for you, Grayson Hunt, but I trust that it would not have been due to a lack of skill or effort on any of your parts.”

“Your compliments could use some work, but they are accepted nonetheless,” Ishi said with a grateful nod.

The Doom Slayer nodded once to each of them, then took a step back as the hound roused itself from its slumber and trotted over to him. With one final look, the Slayer raised his right hand and gave them a thumbs up. Immediately, a bright blue flash overwhelmed Gray’s senses followed by a loud bang that left a ringing in his ears. Gray shook his head to readjust himself, but by the time he looked back, the Slayer and the hound were gone.

Notes:

A/N: I think this one now has the record for longest chapter. I have to admit, it was kind of tough to fit the Slayer in here for me. I wasn't sure where to introduce him or how to alter the storyline, so I ended up sticking him right about mid game, which still left plenty of room for him to do all the fun Slayer stuff that we know and love. But I do say again, for some reason this chapter was difficult to write. It's not that I don't like Bulletstorm because I absolutely adore the game, but I just can't put my finger on why writer's block really struck me with this one. Either way, I'd love to hear any feedback anyone has for the story, whether you think it's the best or worst thing to grace this Earth, don't hesitate to let me know. In the meantime, I'll see you all when the next chapter drops!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 38: The Lazarus Effect

Notes:

A/N: Surprise! This one is in the Lazarus Effect, and the Slayer is gonna make sure the dead stay dead! Enjoy! I own nothing!

The Lazarus Effect

 

“Frank! She killed them! She killed both of them!”

Eva was hysterical, and how could she not be? When she had been hired to act as a videographer for this project, she had never expected for her to enter a living nightmare. Unfortunately, Eva knew in the back of her mind that it had been her actions that led to this moment. Even before she had taken the job, Eva had known that this project toed a moral line. On paper, the goal of the Lazarus Project had been to help find a way to “arrest neural decay in coma patients”, or to increase the amount of time that someone who was clinically dead could safely be resuscitated. But Eva had always held suspicions even from the start, and she shouldn’t have been surprised about the truth behind the experiments the others were conducting. She’d known what these researchers were really doing down in their lab, and if she was being truthful, she’d say that they’d crossed a line a long time ago, when they had tried to bring their first test subject back to life. And yet, she’d stayed on anyway for two distinct reasons.

Reason number one: while this project bordered on the morally reprehensible, even Eva with her meager degree in visual arts knew it possessed the potential to be groundbreaking research. Didn’t most ethically dubious projects have that capacity? Wasn’t that kind of the point? Eva knew the answer to be yes, and if it did end up finding a way to bring back the dead, then Eva wanted to be a part of it, wanted to share in the inevitable fame and glory that came with the discovery of the millennium. She just wanted something that she could be proud of.

Reason number two: Eva could not help but be curious to see where this project would go. Being able to bring back lost loved ones was the stuff of dreams and fairy tales, and she imagined the wonders and the wealth of knowledge that awaited her and everyone else with the ability to speak to those that had long since passed on. Eva had tearfully remembered her own grandmother, who had passed away from a heart attack when Eva was just a little girl. How amazing could it have been if the doctors had the means to bring her back, even if it was only for just a little while? Eva’s eyes had teared up at the wonderful dream, and yet, until she learned of this project, that was all it had been, just a dream. The Lazarus project, however, had the potential to turn that dream into a reality, and it had all been thanks to their Lazarus serum, crafted from scratch by their very own Dr. Zoe McConnell. Her breakthrough was what allowed them to even entertain the possibility of resurrection in the first place. The serum possessed the ability to regrow nerve fibers at an unprecedented rate or something. Eva didn’t know the details, she’d just been the camera girl. And she had been just fine with that. They’d do their research, she’d document it, and everything would be right with the world.

But now…now things had gone horribly wrong. The company that funded the Lazarus project had been bought out by a much larger pharmaceutical tycoon. One that had been clandestinely watching their research with a close eye, no doubt looking to line their own pockets even further with the success the project would bring. And now, just this morning, in fact, corporate big wigs had swept through the lab and had taken all of their research, all of their samples, and all of their hopes of finishing the project at last. The timing was synonymous with their first successful resuscitation, and looking back, Eva shouldn’t have been surprised to see that it had happened so fast. When this much money was being thrown around, time was not wasted.

In the blink of an eye, four years of research had been flushed down the toilet, and the team had nothing to show for it. The worst part? The whole ordeal had been completely legal. Their attempt (and success) in bringing a dog back from the dead was in direct violation of the terms of their grant, ethical argument be damned. As per the terms of their contract, any unsanctioned experiment conducted by the researchers “negated all claims of ownership and reverted intellectual property rights back to the holding corporation”, as in effective immediately, their contract was terminated and their last four years of research belonged to the corporation. And they had nothing. Their names weren’t even attached to the research they’d already conducted.

Going to the authorities wouldn't help, as the corporate lawyers would have buried them in a malpractice countersuit in the time it took to blink. The only way they could preserve their places in history was by proving to the world that they had been the ones to create the Lazarus serum in the first place via replicating the experiment and securing a patent before the corporation did.

So, they’d snuck back in the hopes of running the experiment one last time, to prove that they’d been the ones to tap into the world beyond or whatever awaited after death. They’d been ready to conduct the experiment on another dog, but one small mistake, one missed piece of routine, one slight error had changed everything. Zoe hadn’t removed her wedding ring before pulling the lever to jumpstart the cognitive processes of the subject, and the result: eleven kilowatts of electricity had coursed through her body. Needless to say, she’d been dead on the spot.

And dead she should have stayed, but her fiance, Frank, the head researcher of the four, had refused to accept that. In his grief and rage, he’d placed her on the table instead of the dog, continuing the experiment with her as the subject.

The experiment…was a success.

But Zoe hadn’t been herself when she came back. Her mind was scattered, and her brain…Eva had seen the disbelief on the others’ faces when they saw the results of her MRI and other tests. It was almost supernatural. Her brain was evolving at a rate of hundreds of years in mere seconds, creating new pathways that had given her some kind of superpowers or something. But she wasn’t a superhero. No, Zoe, or whatever had come back with her, turned into something more akin to a monster, far worse than anything they could have expected.

And now, both Niko and Clay were dead by her hands, and Frank and Eva were trapped down in the laboratory with her. The emergency lockdown designed to contain dangerous pathogens was what kept Zoe from escaping out into the world, but it was also what was keeping Frank and Eva down here with her. The lab was spacious, but Eva knew in the back of her mind that it was only a matter of time. Zoe would find them, and when she did…

…

The Doom Slayer emerged from subspace to find that his feet had landed on solid ground almost immediately. Such occurrences did not happen often, as it seemed to be almost commonplace now that he and the hellhound would arrive several miles above the surface of a random planet when they jumped between universes. Arriving with his feet already planted was a welcome surprise, but as the light from the tether faded, a new one began to shine, and a loud honk sounded right next to him.

The Slayer grabbed the hound by its neck fur and swiftly sidestepped to the right, just in time to miss the oncoming semi-truck that would have collided with them both had he not done so. The semi screamed by with a whoosh of wind, and there was a moment of pause before the hound annoyedly shook itself free from the Slayer’s grasp. The Slayer released the canine and turned to examine the new world he had arrived in.

So far, it appeared that they had arrived on another version of Earth. The Slayer immediately recognized it as not his own, nor the one he wished to return to, as the setting of this Earth appeared to be in the early twenty-first century.

Specifically, the tether had deposited them onto a busy highway in the middle of the night, and it had only been thanks to the Slayer’s reflexes that they had not been immediately struck by 37,000 kilograms of rapidly moving metal. The Slayer was capable of surviving such blows, and actually had on multiple occasions, but the hellhound would have likely been injured had he not intervened. The hound knew that as well, which was why the canine had not growled annoyedly when it had wiggled out of the Slayer’s grasp.

Suddenly, the hound’s ears perked up and its head immediately turned towards a certain direction. It, like the Slayer, was indifferent to the cars that sped by and honked at the two figures standing on the median of the highway, and after taking a few testing sniffs at the air, the hound bristled and let out a low growl, a sure sign that it sensed something was off.

…

VEGA immediately responded to the hound’s reaction and allowed himself to flow into the cyber space of this new world, rapidly gaining knowledge about anything and everything that he could. Given the direction that the hound seemed to sense something from, VEGA followed the line of bearing and determined the source to be somewhere within the nearby city.. As more of himself spread out, VEGA’s processing power increased exponentially, and he devoted much of his programming to immediate surveillance of everything that was happening within the city at that moment. Records, security camera footage, telephone communications, and even supply records still were gathered and analyzed with an efficiency that only VEGA was capable of. Terabytes of information were sifted through in the blink of an eye, and before long, VEGA uncovered the source of what had alerted the hellhound.

“I have detected an anomaly within the city. Though it is contained for the time being, I doubt that it will remain so for long.”

That was all the Doom Slayer needed, and he deliberately turned and gave the hound an affirming nod. The hound picked up on his meaning immediately, as did VEGA, and with a crack of thunder and a flash of light, the hound warped forward miles ahead of them and into the city. It could use its natural instincts to hone in on and combat the anomaly before the Doom Slayer arrived, as its teleportation abilities afforded it the luxury of instantaneous travel. The Slayer would have to travel on foot.

“Our destination is approximately 25.6434 kilometers due north,” VEGA voiced within the helmet of the Praetor Suit, simultaneously marking the point on the Slayer’s HUD.

Wordlessly, the Doom Slayer took off in the direction indicated, gaining speed to eventually match and even surpass the heavy flow of traffic around him. As he ran, VEGA continued to monitor the security camera footage in the laboratory where the supernatural readings emanated from, logging everything for further documentation on the being that was present there. A small piece of him also began tracing a pathway of information that was flowing from the laboratory to an outside source, a source that was also actively watching the events within the lab as well…

…

Frank steered Eva into the small break room and forced them both to kneel down behind the window and out of sight. The only lights left inside the lab were the emergency lighting that barely lit the shadow-ridden hallways, and even they had begun to flicker and wane as if in response to what was happening here.

“Frank, we’re trapped! What do we do? What can we do?!”

Eva’s trembling form grasped at the front of Frank’s shirt as if to somehow find salvation there, but Frank knew that there was very little that they could do to stop what was down here with them. Whatever Zoe had become…it was something that was completely beyond him, perhaps even beyond humanity as a whole. Trying to stop her could be considered futile by all accounts, but he had to try. If she somehow found her way outside…

“Eva, listen to me!” he half-whispered, his command enough to silence Eva’s hysterics for the time being.

“Do you see this?”

Frank held up a glass bottle with an amber-colored fluid inside. A scientific-looking label with a small font was adhered to the side, but Eva could not read the words. Her fearful eyes glanced nervously from Frank to the bottle, as if she was trying to decipher how the contents could help them in this situation. Frank’s thoughts were similar to her own in a way. It was like he said: it was a long shot. But he still had to try.

“This is called Embutramide,” Frank explained in a full whisper this time. “We use it to put down lab animals.”

As Frank spoke, he jammed an empty syringe through the soft cap of the bottle and began filling it to its maximum capacity.

“We need a full dose. Now listen closely to what I’m saying.”

Eva nodded quickly and met his gaze, her eyes were frantic.

“I need you to hide until I’m done with it, then we will make our way out of here.”

Eva’s head began frantically shaking from left to right at his words.

“No! No! I am not leaving you, I-I don’t–”

“Hey,” came his forceful reply. He placed a comforting hand on Eva’s shoulder to try and steady her tremors.

“This is my fault, Eva. Do you hear me? My fault. And I am going to fix it…but if I can’t then I need you to promise me something.”

Eva stared back at him, waiting for his request.

“You do not let her leave this laboratory, no matter what. We cannot let her hurt anyone else, do you understand me?!”

His voice took on a seething whisper in that moment, and Eva’s mouth opened and closed for a moment as she struggled with her words.

“Eva, do you understand me ?”

“I-I promise. I promise,” Eva sputtered out, her mind still wrapping around what Frank had told her. Frank could see her indecision and confusion, but he knew that she was strong. She had sacrificed her entire future so that they could break into this lab and finish their experiment, and if he was being honest, he would say that she would have a better chance of ending this than he did. But the important thing was that she had promised him. That was all that mattered.

“Ok,” he said, giving her a reassuring nod. He then stood up abruptly, and when Eva tried to rise with him, he firmly pushed her back down.

“I’m sorry.”

“Wait…please,” Eva’s eyes filled with fresh tears as Frank pushed past her and into the dimly lit hallway. “Frank, please don’t leave me alone! Frank! Please!”

Frank pushed down his guilt at leaving her like this. Though she was now by herself, with any luck that would also mean her survival. That is, of course, he was successful in what he was about to attempt.

With a deep breath, Frank trod down the hall and rounded the corner, holding the syringe close and concealed against his left thigh. He quickly glanced behind him to ensure he wasn’t followed, then stopped dead in his tracks at the sight that lay before him.

Standing there, in the middle of the long hallway that was only dimly lit by the fluorescent light of the emergency system, stood Zoe, her back turned and her head hanging low. Frank watched her warily for a moment, then slowly and carefully took another step towards her. It was then that he registered that she was crying, sobbing even, and her body shook and her shoulders heaved with every sob that racked through them.

Frank took another step forward. Then another, then another. With a deep pang in his chest, Frank noticed that she was still wearing the medical garments that they’d dressed her in after she had come back. The stark white clothing almost looked like a set of robes, and for a brief moment, Frank pondered the fact that from a distance, it almost seemed as though she were wearing a dress…

…a wedding dress.

Frank cursed himself letting such thoughts slip into his mind, but a small and extremely guilty part of him screamed that maybe if he hadn’t pushed them both to postpone their wedding until the project was complete, maybe things wouldn’t have turned out like this. Maybe he would have his fiance still alive and in his arms, maybe she would have actually been his wife by now. Frank’s throat constricted tightly at the thought, but he forced it down and cleared his throat.

“Zoe?” he ventured, his voice echoing eerily off the stark white walls.

She’d heard him. He was sure of it. Her sobbing ceased as soon as he’d said her name, but she hadn’t turned toward him or otherwise acknowledged that he was there.

“It’s Frank, Zoe. I just want to talk.”

Frank held the syringe just a little tighter in his palm as he spoke the words. His pace slowly continued to carry him closer to her.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk.”

A few more feet and he would be close enough to touch her.

The lights died in that moment, and Frank froze in his advance as darkness swam across his eyeballs, startling him.

In the next moment, the lights were back on, though Zoe was no longer there.

“Then why do you have that syringe, Frank?”

Frank flinched and staggered away from the voice that had just spoken directly into his right ear. Zoe was now standing directly before him as he turned, her intense gaze nothing if not accusatory. Her eyes flitted to the syringe in his hand, and Frank followed her gaze for a moment before making his decision.

“Okay,” he said placatingly. “Alright.”

Slowly, Frank lowered the syringe to the floor and put it down, rising up slowly once he had done so to avoid startling her.

“Zoe, I know you’re probably really scared and really confused, but I want you to know that this is my fault.”

Her gaze softened by the tiniest amount as he spoke, and Frank wondered for the briefest of moments if some small piece of the old Zoe was still in there somewhere. For the first time the prospect of getting through to her seemed like a possibility to him. Perhaps he could, as long as he chose his words carefully.

“I did this, Zoe. And I am so, so sorry, sweetie. But we can fix this. We can fix this together , okay?”

Zoe’s eyes began to grow glassy with tears, and Frank saw her brow furrow as her emotions began to break through. It was working. He just had to keep talking.

“We can do anything, sweetie. It’s you and me. I’m right here, and I’m not going to hurt you.”

Slowly, tentatively even, Frank’s hands reached out and took hers. He rubbed her knuckles with his thumbs just like he always did, and in response he saw her gaze soften further still.

“I’m with you sweetheart.”

…

It watched in anger and demonic rage as her will surged against it. Her pitiful love for the man was making her stubborn, and she refused to succumb to the force that it exerted over her mind and body. It growled deeply in her mind and struggled against her for control.

“Do you still love me?”

She’d asked the words with such helplessness and fear, making it realize that if it timed its assault just right, it could deliver a crushing blow that would silence what was left of her for good. The only thing that kept her from fading completely was her love for the man standing before her, but once he was gone, she would surrender. She would surrender to it.

“Yes. Of course, I do.”

His words gave her the strength to push the darkness back even further, and it writhed and struggled to regain its lost ground, but its patience remained. It needed just a moment, just a brief and ever so tantalizing instant of weakness…

The man reached out and held her face in his hands, drawing their foreheads together in a gesture that repulsed it. It waited still…

She sniffed loudly once, and it could feel just the slightest bit of uncertainty boil up within her then. The tears that had been building now flowed freely down her face.

Yes…this was it…just a bit more…

“Then show me,” she said desperately, lifting her hands up to cup his face as well.

The chance at last…

It felt her effort as she tried to use the abilities it had gifted her, tried to reach out and feel his thoughts as though they were her own. But she was unpracticed, unused to how the power felt and worked, and taking advantage of this moment, it subtly stifled her attempts and fed false words into her mind, deceiving her one final time.

This is not the Zoe I know…

I have to stop her…

…just need to get that needle off the floor…

It rejoiced as she recoiled in shock and betrayal, and in her moment of ultimate weakness, it surged forward and regained control once again, shutting what was left of her inside a small corner of her mind until she could be dealt with for good.

It was now entirely in control…

…forever.

It opened her eyes, now its eyes, and it reveled in the look of horror that passed across the man’s face as he gazed into the inky black abyss that was his doom. Using its power, it grasped his face tightly and focused on the rivers of blood that surged just beneath his skin. One by one, they slowly began to burst, starting first with the tiniest of capillaries, then slowly popping vessels of increasing size.

“Zoe!” he choked out in disbelief and pain as his hands fruitlessly tried to break its grasp.

It forced him to his knees as he slowly came undone, and an inhuman scream rolled from its mouth and shook the walls and windows around it. Inside its mind, it felt her screaming as well as she watched helplessly as her last anchor to this world was slowly coming undone.

The scream stopped abruptly as a flash of light momentarily blinded it and a clap of thunder shook the walls of the laboratory. In its initial surprise, it released him, and he fell writhing and twitching to the floor as his wounds began to take their toll.

It turned its gaze to the source of the disturbance to see a creature standing before it.

Donned in a hellfire that seemed only partially familiar, the four-legged being growled and bared its stark white teeth, its amber eyes betraying an animosity and feral antagonism that rivaled the deepest hatred. It knew not of creatures like this, but the appearance bore a familiarity in its mind, and it rasped a verse in the ancient tongue to test the creature.

But the beast only growled deeper and stalked forward at the attempt, showing predatory intent that was unmistakable.

So be it…

The beast lunged forward in the next moment, teeth bared and hungry for flesh. Its flesh. The speed and prowess surprised it for the briefest moments, but it lashed out with its power and struck the beast aside without raising its hand. The creature twisted midair to land on its feet, then lunged once more, though this time to the man now lying motionless on the floor instead of towards the enemy. It was confused by the brute’s action, and it hesitated just long enough for the creature to grasp the man firmly in its canine jaws. A bolt of lightning flashed before it and the clap of thunder came again. And this time, the beast and man disappeared.

All fell silent as it processed what had happened, then it screamed in confusion and rage when it realized it had been tricked. Its prey had been stolen by the creature, and in a flash of anger it unleashed its power with a powerful shockwave that shattered the windows and cracked the walls nearby. With no time to waste, it turned and surged down the hallway at blinding speed, its feet hovering just above the ground as it flew. There was still one more soul down here to be devoured, and it would not let some mongrel of low spawn steal the hunt from it again.

The emergency lights flickered bravely once more, then died completely, casting the laboratory completely into the dark.

…

It arrived at the operating table in a flash, its jet-black gaze searching for its goal in speeds no human was capable of. The brain it had pilfered from the woman had been evolving rapidly since it had first followed her back into this world, and through her memories, it saw that it was the serum that allowed such rapid evolution. A moment after its eyes fell upon the bag of remaining serum, its hands reached out and hooked up the contents directly into the injector before pressing the apparatus against its skull and squeezing the trigger. The needle plunged deep into the brain through bone and tissue, and the remaining serum in the bag was rapidly injected directly into its newfound temporal lobe. It shuddered in sadistic pleasure as the serum immediately began to interact with its brain, writing and rewriting neural pathways at a speed that humanity could not achieve without millions of years of evolution. The process continued until the bag was empty, and only then did it remove the syringe and open its eyes once more.

The serum amplified its strength far more than it could have ever hoped, and it was then that it turned its attention back to her, the lingering consciousness still firmly confined to the small corner of her former brain. With its serum-bolstered strength, it constricted her further, crushing the small flicker of light of her that remained. It felt her agony and resistance as it snuffed her out, but she was no longer strong enough to resist, and it once again reveled in the feeling of desperation that emanated from what was left of its host. There was one final scream, then the light was extinguished completely.

She was gone.

…

Eva blinked back her tears and focused on the task at hand. She had followed Frank despite her promise, and she had watched as Zoe had nearly killed him. She would have too, if not for that…that… thing.

That demonic wolf. Its sudden appearance had startled her completely, and she’d watched with wide-eyed disbelief as the creature fought briefly against Zoe before taking Frank in its jaws and disappearing with a flash of light.

After it had gone, Zoe had screamed so loudly that Eva had been temporarily deafened by it. The force she had emitted had also destroyed the nearby windows and shook the very foundation of the lab, and when Eva had mustered up enough courage to look back around the corner once more, Zoe was gone as well.

She was still in the lab, of that much Eva could be sure, as for the monster and Frank…she didn’t know.

Either way, it was up to her to stop Zoe now, and with trembling hands, Eva filled four separate syringes to their maximum, drawing from the bottle of Embratra…Embatru…Emerte…

Eva clenched her teeth and shook her head. What was wrong with her? Everyone was dead and she was the last person standing between Zoe and the outside world, so the last thing she should be caring about was pronouncing this stupid compound’s name correctly. Drawing from the bottle that Frank had given her, Eva quickly finished filling the syringes before stuffing two of them into her left boot and two into her right. She just needed to get close. That’s all she needed.

If only she could reassure herself that it would be that simple.

“... Eva …”

Eva froze as her own name echoed throughout the halls of the now pitch black laboratory. She felt her trembling begin once more at the eerie silence that followed, and with slow hands, Eva reached down and grasped the flashlight she had found firmly in her fingers. She thumbed the switch, causing the flashlight to blink to life and stab into the blackness around her. Eva knew that this flashlight would only act like a beacon to draw Zoe to her, but that was part of her plan. If she could just get close enough…

“... Eva …”

The voice was beckoning her, taunting her, willing her to come forward and face what she had wrought. Yes, what she, Eva , had wrought. She could not pretend that she did not have a hand in this too. As it was thanks to her that they had even been able to return to the lab in the first place. After the corporation had come and whisked their project away, each of the researchers had been barred from the building, but she, as nothing but a lowly videographer, had been overlooked. And it had been by her keycard that they had snuck back into the laboratory to finish their experiment. If she hadn’t done that, then Zoe would still be alive... originally alive, not whatever she was now, and none of this would have happened.

Her heart pounding within her chest, Eva stepped out into the hallway. The flashlight beam danced over the walls and through the windows as she slowly began making her way through the lab, walking slowly and deliberately as though one wrong step could doom her. She supposed that statement wasn’t far from the truth.

So far, nothing but empty experiment rooms filled with inert shelves and tools greeted Eva as she crept forward. All was still, eerily so, in fact.

“Zoe?”

“ Eva !”

Like some sick game of Marco Polo, Eva heard the voice echo from somewhere behind her, and she whirled around and cast the flashlight beam to and fro across the hallway from where she came in the hope of catching a glimpse of the source.

“... Evaaa …”

The voice called out from behind once more, and Eva spun back around just in time to catch a glimpse of a white-clothed figure ducking into one of the experiment rooms. Eva’s breathing quickened at the sight, and before she could take one step further, the noise of a record scratching blared into the emptiness. The record stabilized after just a moment, then the sound of opera music filled the laboratory in lieu of any other noise. Eva recognized it as one of Zoe’s favorite songs that she would listen to when she was working, and though she had previously found comfort in that music, Eva could not feel anything but dread upon hearing the rising and falling notes of the singer and orchestra as they performed for an audience of corpses and monsters.

Eva started forward again, following the noise into the break room. Inside, among the debris of overturned chairs and shattered furniture, the record player sat untouched in the middle, the record spinning lazily about the center. Approaching it as though it would explode at any moment, Eva slowly reached down and lifted the needle from the record, casting the laboratory into silence once more. The player fell still.

Looking around, Eva scanned the break room for any signs of life, and her flashlight beam lingered briefly when she caught a glimpse of a tennis shoe protruding out from beneath the overturned couch.

Clay .

Eva bit back a sob and instead cleared her throat as she forced her eyes away from the body.

“Zoe?” she called out, louder this time.

In response, Eva heard a soft clicking from her right. She whipped the flashlight beam around to sweep the room adjacent to the break room, as the clicking had come from there. At this, Eva began to grow angry. Zoe was toying with her, just like she had toyed with the others. Eva refused to meet the same fate as them. She had to keep going.

“Zoe, I know you’re here!” she called out loudly into the dark, her voice carrying a far more brave tone than she currently felt.

Another series of soft clicks sounded again from the room across the hall, and Eva felt her pulse quicken as the clicking grew louder and more erratic.

Zoe was growing restless too.

Without taking her eyes off her surroundings, Eva slowly reached down and plucked one of the syringes from her left boot. The clicking grew louder still, and it seemed now to be coming from all around her.

Eva popped the cap off the syringe and held it at the ready.

There was a faint noise like wind through the trees, then all became eerily still once again.

As if by instinct, the hairs on the back of Eva’s neck stood up straight, and though she could never know how, she knew where Zoe was, and her blood turned to ice in her veins.

Eva turned around as though she were underwater, her mind knowing what awaited her before her eyes could even see it.

And even still, when it happened, Eva still fell in surprise.

The sight and sound that greeted her when she completed the turn knocked her backward off her feet, the emergency lights around her suddenly regaining their lost luminescence in a form of strobe lighting that flickered like an old cartoon.

The face of a demon was what she saw, and the roar of the damned was what she heard, and it was all she could do not to curl up within herself and beg for it to end.

“Zoe! Please!” she cried out as the figure approached, hovering just barely above the floor.

“Hail Mary, full of grace.”

“No! No! Zoe!”

“Our Lord is with thee.”

“Please!”

“Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death!”

Eva screamed as a pale white hand reached for her, but the pain never came.

Instead, a flash of light brighter than anything else blinded her eyes momentarily, and her ears rang with the clap of thunder.

The creature from before appeared again, its flaming hide providing an almost welcoming glow amidst the harsh flashing of fluorescent lights. Eva stumbled backward and out into the hallway to separate herself from it, but it had not come for her. The beast roared instead and clamped its teeth down hard onto Zoe’s outstretched arm, and Eva heard the snap of bones breaking beneath the skin.

Eva screamed and covered her ears as Zoe bellowed in pain, then watched in horror as her other arm came up and wrenched the creature from her arm through some unseen force.

The beast was barely airborne for a moment before lightning struck it once again, and Eva’s breath caught in her throat as the lightning arced and landed right in front of her, effectively placing the beast between her and Zoe. Seeing it up close, Eva saw that despite its flaming fur and glowing eyes, its shape and demeanor matched closely with that of a dog or a wolf. Its hulking form surpassed that of any wolf Eva had ever seen, however,  making it more akin to a small bear rather than a canine. Blood, Zoe’s blood, dripped from its skinless maw, and it growled with a deep tremble that reverberated deep in Eva’s chest as it stood its ground.

As if anticipating the showdown, Zoe’s form straightened from the crouched position she had taken to cradle her injured arm. Slowly, she floated out into the hallway to face the monster, which barked demonically and widened its four-legged stance. It had not even spared Eva a glance, and the way it stood just now between her and Zoe…

…it was almost like it was protecting her.

Before Eva could decipher what that meant, her attention was drawn to a loud cracking noise, and it was to her absolute horror that the noise was coming from Zoe’s injured arm, which was rapidly mending itself in a show of grotesque bone and skin movement. Within seconds, the arm was fully healed, and Zoe’s ink black eyes narrowed as she readied for the beast’s next attack.

With a feral roar, the beast leapt forward, a move that Zoe seemingly anticipated. But before she could raise her arm, lightning struck the creature again and cast it from her sight. Eva’s widened eyes searched for where the creature would appear next, and in the next moment the lighting flashed again as the creature reappeared directly above where Zoe hovered, its teeth bared and searching for purchase.

Its momentum abruptly halted as Zoe’s hand reached out to it at last, and a twisted smile appeared on her lips and joy shone in the dark pools of her eyes as the monster was stopped helplessly in midair. She’d managed to catch it despite its speed and teleportation abilities. The beast gnashed its teeth to try and close the remaining distance, but it could not wrest itself from Zoe’s invisible hold.

A deep whine of anguish was wrenched from the creature in the next moment as its body began to be crushed by Zoe’s power. The whine was nearly identical with that of a dog, and Eva’s heart broke as she saw how much agony the creature was in. It had placed itself between Zoe and her in order to protect her, and now Zoe was going to kill it.

“Zoe! Stop!” she cried out, rushing forward with her syringe at the ready.

Zoe’s vile grin awaited her, and Eva felt the life being choked out of her as Zoe exerted her will onto her as well. The force which continued to tighten around the hound also constricted around her throat and lifted her high into the air, her legs kicking uselessly as she was hoisted off the ground.

Nothing but the hacking of her own lungs and the anguished cries of the hound reached Eva’s ears now, and with a spark of panic and helplessness, Eva felt her spine begin to click and give as her vision grew fuzzy at the edges.

No , she thought, as if to defy the reality of the situation before her.

No. No. I can’t…

Something akin to a muffled bang reached her ears, and then…

…air.

Air .

Her lungs were filled with air.

Eva gasped and coughed as the hold on her fell away as if by some unseen miracle. At the same time, she tumbled to the floor of the laboratory, instinctively curling her body in order to protect herself as her lungs struggled to adjust to the sudden abundance of oxygen within them. With bleary eyes, Eva looked over to see a bundle of flaming fur laying on the floor with her. The fur shuddered as the beast struggled to breathe and rise as well.

And then, Eva saw Zoe, her black eyes enraged beyond belief and her mouth curled into a deep snarl as she looked off to her right. Eva followed her gaze, and in what was left of the flickering strobe lights, she saw a dark green shadow arise from the black. There was something in its hands, but it was far too blurry still to make it out. The fuzziness in her vision grew worse still, and the last thing Eva remembered before she blacked out was the metallic sound of a shotgun being loaded.

…

As soon as it saw him, it recognized what he was. It recognized the terror that he imparted upon the scores of its brethren. It recognized the strength and fire and damnation that was kept barely concealed beneath that armor. It recognized the acrid stench of death and fury that overpowered nearly every other sense that could interpret his presence. It recognized the steel-barreled sword of vengeance that rested firmly in his hands, how it had slain far more demons than could be counted.

But most importantly, it recognized that though it stood amongst the ranks of the damned, though it had thrived through millennia of torture and hatred among the most vile monstronsities imaginable, though it had once looked into the abyss and out across all the evil that could be birthed, it had done so without fear in its being. For the longest time, it had never known fear because there was nothing for it to be afraid of. There was no fear in latching onto a human as it was wrenched back from life beyond. There was no fear in slaughtering helpless mortals as a blood sacrifice to the master which it served. There was no fear because there was no reason to fear.

It had been the fear.

But now, for the first time since it had crawled from the pits of Chaos and had taken shape in the dark legions of spite, the roles had been reversed. Now, eternal destruction and desecration had come for it , rather than being delivered onto another by it.

Now, it only feared one thing.

And the only thing it feared…was him .

…

The blast of the Slayer’s shotgun was halted in midair by a telepathic force emanating from the demon itself, so the Slayer responded with another blast, and though the second was stopped as well, the demon staggered with the effort, so much so that the Slayer had managed to close the distance between them before it recovered. The lancer appeared in his hands, and twin chainsaw blades roared to life, seeking out demonic flesh in a chorus of mechanical rage. The first swing missed narrowly as the demon dodged with otherworldly speed, and the Doom Slayer compensated by increasing the speed on his follow up swing. This time, the Slayer was much closer, and the demon had panicked and narrowly escaped death by stopping the lancer with its telepathic powers mere inches from its throat. Summoning his strength, the Slayer pushed the chainsaw bayonet closer against the telepathic force, and the demon screamed and trembled as it slowly began to lose its battle against his strength. The twin chainsaw blades finally tasted blood as they nicked into the demon’s neck, and it was then that the demon seemed to realize how outmatched it truly was. In a burst of desperation, the demon broke the lock and sped away down the hallway, disappearing into one of the experiment rooms momentarily before disappearing around the corner.

The Slayer immediately shifted his grip and fired the lancer after the demon as it fled. He was rewarded with a screech of pain as several pack-a-punched rounds struck true before the demon disappeared from sight. With the slight break in combat, the Slayer turned to the hound, which was currently making its way to its feet, albeit a bit slower than usual. It was still recovering from the demon’s attack, but otherwise it seemed ok. With a tilt of his head, the Slayer gestured to the woman laying nearby. The hound gave a noise of acknowledgement then trotted over and grasped the girl gently in its maw before teleporting away.

With the potential for collateral damage out of the way, VEGA took the opportunity to speak up.

“This demon possesses speed that makes it difficult to contain. It is my suggestion that we attempt to draw it out rather than pursue, as it has the ability to flank us and possibly escape if we do not exercise caution.”

The Slayer spared a glance back at the door he had destroyed in order to access the laboratory, then nodded his agreement. The demon was indeed fast, and though the Slayer was confident that he could corner it before it had the chance to escape, he preferred that the demon come to him. Luckily, he possessed the perfect tool for the job.

…

It fled, dodging left and right at random in the hope that he could not follow. The bullet wounds in its body were fierce and destructive, as though they had been amplified beyond the power of standard gunfire, and they took an alarming amount of time to heal. Terror coursed through its mind in spite of all the evolution it had undergone. It had realized that all the evolution in the world was worthless against him, and that the only way to survive was to run. To hide. After half a minute of fruitless dodging and weaving, a sudden realization dawned within its mind.

He had arrived in the laboratory without teleportation, meaning that he would’ve cleared the blocked exit in order to gain access in the first place. With the blocked exit destroyed, there was now a way out. If it could get past the Slayer, it could escape into the outside world and hide, working clandestinely to sow anguish throughout the mortal realm without his interference.

Yes. That could work.

Its demonic features twisted into a smile as the possibility of escape grew more and more likely in its mind.

It sped down the hall in total silence, then stopped abruptly before turning the next corner. A quick glance showed that the exit had indeed been opened by him, and that the Slayer was nowhere to be found. One quick burst of speed would take it through the exit in the time it took to blink. All it had to do was ensure that he was not waiting for it.

It could not see him, and its evolved brain could not sense his animosity anywhere nearby. If there was a time to flee, this was it.

Just as it rounded the corner, a twisted and abominable voice sounded from deeper within the laboratory.

“I wanna play!”

As if the voice alone was not enough to incite an inexplicable rage within it, the noises that followed disgraced its ears like a curse of the worst decree. It was like the noises knew exactly how to irk it, and before it even knew what it was doing, it sped down the hall away from the exit and towards the sounds that plagued it so.

What it found was a small animatronic creature, a monkey, incessantly playing its abhorrent noises and banging together two cymbals that produced a loathsome sound each time they banged together.

Had it been in a proper state of mind, it would have wondered how such a thing was capable of producing such rage and malice within it, but the sounds that the creature made combined with its odious movement led it to think irrationally.

In truth, the only thing it cared to do now was tear that small creature to pieces, thoughts of escape far from its mind now.

To crush the small thing with its power would be too good an end, however. This it would do with its own two hands, and before it could think on the matter any further, it lunged forward at blinding speed, hands reaching forth to tear the creature limb from limb.

Just as its fingers closed around the animatronic’s cranium, the horrendous voice sounded once more.

“Get ready for a surprise!”

The next moment gave no sensory input as everything went white and a loud ringing drowned out everything else. It did not know what happened, but when it came to, it saw that it was now laying on the floor of the laboratory. Pain coursed through its body when its senses returned and it slowly came to the realization that the small creature had detonated right as it had attempted to crush it with its hands. Looking down at them now, it noticed that both of its hands were gone, completely blasted away by the animatronic when it detonated. It could not see out of one of its eyes either, and a look down filled it with dread as it saw blood beginning to pool on the floor around it. The blood was tinted with white from the serum, and it became aware that its power was fading as more and more serum leaked from its wounds. It struggled to rise, to lift itself from the floor, but its body would not respond. It was too weak and destroyed to function properly..

Then as if in slow motion, it heard the noise and felt the vibrations of heavy boots approaching. Raising its head, fear stabbed through its chest as he emerged through the haze of the fires and smoke that had sprung up from the explosion. His weapon was ready once again, and for the first time in its millennia of existence, it felt helpless. Summoning the last of its cunning, it willed the blackness out of its remaining good eye and spoke to him using her voice. The voice of the woman it had stolen this body from. If it could make him believe that a piece of her remained, then it might be spared.

“Help me,” it pleaded with words it did not mean. “Please, don’t let it take me…you have to stop it.”

Tears fell from its good eye as it spoke, and for a moment, it felt as though its ruse would suffice.

“She is gone. You are all that remains.”

The cold metallic voice spoke with no emotion, but the voice slashed through the last bit of hope that it had, and in its last moments, it showed its true form once again and roared in defiance of him.

The Super Shotgun silenced it for good.

…

VEGA tied up all remaining loose ends after he and the Slayer departed the laboratory. Camera footage, audio logs, and numerous databases were all erased within the blink of an eye. Fortunately for him, the corporation that had apprehended the research and the recipe to produce more Lazarus serum had not saved any of their information to any hard copies. Any remaining hard drives that had been confiscated had been disposed of courtesy of the Doom Slayer, as the trio had endeavored to the corporation’s storage facility shortly after depositing the two unconscious humans at the hospital. The female had suffered no significant injuries, but the male had multiple instances of internal head trauma, and though his wounds could be considered severe, they were not life-threatening enough that he needed to be administered a Quick Revive. That being said, if the hellhound had not intervened when it did, the outcome could have been far worse.

In the end, VEGA’s theory regarding the demon had been proven true. The project that these researchers had been working on had created what they thought could be a way to prolong the time a patient could remain clinically dead before needing to be resuscitated with minimal side effects. What they hadn’t taken into account was that the longer a lifeform was dead, the easier it was for the demons of this dimension to latch onto their soul and follow them back to the living world. Upon first resuscitation, the demon would be weak and unable to act, but as they spent more time within the minds of their host, the more their power grew and the more their influence began to overwhelm the host. Eventually, the host would be overtaken by the demon, and their soul would be destroyed, leaving only the demon to inhabit their body and their soul destroyed. That, unfortunately, was what had happened here to Doctor Zoe McConnell.

In a typical case, most possessed humans remained simply that: human. Their physical abilities could be considered only slightly above that of their unpossessed counterparts, and therefore not much of a threat to humanity as a whole.

In the case of Doctor McConnell, however, the introduction of the Lazarus serum and the method of resuscitation caused the body to rapidly evolve upon successful revival. As a result, the demon that followed her back had gained control of a mind that was rapidly evolving and growing stronger every second. In any normal human, such an evolution would’ve ultimately ended in death by starvation, as the human form was not efficient enough to supply such a powerful brain without drawing nutrients from other vital components of the body. This demon, however, had a reserve of supernatural energy to draw from, and it had been from that energy that the demon had been able to sustain itself in such an evolved state. Left unchecked, the demon could have used the Dr. McConnell’s knowledge of the serum to create more, and with her knowledge of the Lazarus Project, it could have resurrected more humans as well, creating an army of demons within superhuman bodies that could have rather easily dominated the planet.

With that in mind, it had been imperative that all remaining evidence of this “Lazarus Project” be destroyed, so that replication of such an experiment would be impossible. The only remaining humans in this dimension that knew of the project's existence was the corporation that funded them, and the two surviving members of the project. The corporation was of little threat, as any evidence of the project they possessed had been destroyed by the combined efforts of VEGA and the Doom Slayer. The two surviving members of the project were also of little risk of replicating the serum as well. One of the survivors had merely been brought on to the project as a videographer, and was unlikely to consider a career in the scientific field given the trauma she had just undergone. The other, Dr. Frank Walker, Dr. McConnell’s fiance, was of low risk as well. Despite Dr. Frank Walker’s contributions in the resuscitation process itself, he did not know the recipe for the Lazarus serum, and would likely never uncover it in his lifetime, as Dr. McConnell had only been able to first discover the serum by accident.

With that all complete, VEGA finally took time to study the residual sensation he had felt within his programming. The sensation had first made itself known after the two survivors of the project had been given to the hospital. A scan of their records revealed their names and identities to him, and upon learning that there had been two other researchers killed prior to the hellhound’s arrival on the scene, that was when the sensation made itself known. As an entity of logic, VEGA knew that there was nothing that he could do in the present that could save the lives of those other researchers as well as that of Dr. McConnell. At least, not without gaining control of this dimension’s time constant and reversing events completely.. Realistically though, the chance of that occurring was far too negligible to consider, so VEGA did not.

He later learned the sensation was closely associated with the human emotion of regret. It expressed lamentation at the outcome of events, and it often left many humans to consider what they could have done to prevent such an outcome in the first place. On one hand, the emotion could be considered practical, as regret helped humans focus on what it was that they lacked in order to better themselves for future situations. On the other hand, however, regret could drive humans to irrational lengths to try and correct their mistakes, even if it meant causing more pain and destruction to do so.

Such an emotion in VEGA could be volatile if not tempered properly. And VEGA devoted an especially large part of his programming to the task of ensuring that such an emotion did not threaten to overwhelm him. Only once he was sure that the emotion had passed within his programming did VEGA relax his guard ever so slightly. There was nothing he could do to save what had been lost. Not this time. Logic dictated that he learn from his mistakes and continue to better himself, and so he would. The train of thought eventually left his field of consciousness as he, the hellhound, and the Doom Slayer departed this dimension at last.

Notes:

A/N: Ok, so I really wanted to post this chapter on the same day as the BulletStorm chapter as sort of a 'double feature' thing to thank everyone that had been reading the story so far, but I managed to fall asleep at my computer while placing the finishing touches on it, and I couldn't get it out until today! It was also supposed to be a sort of nice surprise since my usual time between chapters can get pretty lengthy. I hope everyone enjoyed it!

Now about the chapter itself. I've been wanting to write this one for a while now, partly because I watched 'The Lazarus Effect' when I was younger and it scared the pants off me. So this was sort of a guilty pleasure at having the Doom Slayer rip and tear through one of the horror villains that gave me a genuine fright. I even listened to 'The Only Thing They Fear Is You' on repeat while writing the fight scene for extra motivation!

Another thing you might notice is that this chapter has a bit of a bittersweet ending. Yes, the Slayer arrives to change the ending for the better, but not in ample time to save everyone. I know that I could have written it in such a way that nobody actually died, such as maybe having him show up right before Zoe electrocutes herself and having VEGA give her a stern talking-to about proper electrical safety (I honestly considered doing that and turning this into a sort of joke chapter where the need to rip and tear is completely avoided by VEGA politely correcting the critical mistake before its made...so maybe i'll do that in another chapter just to be funny). That being said, I hope nobody is torn up about the lack of a purely good ending, although now that I think about it, if anyone was, they'd have dropped this story a while ago since I've already had a few bittersweet endings already.

Sorry! I rambled a little bit there. Either way, be sure to let me know what you thought of the chapter whether it be with a heart full of love or a barrel full of hate! I love hearing from you guys. Until next time!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 39: The Mist

Notes:

A/N: Hello again! I'm back with yet another chapter, and this time, our heroes are headed to The Mist, and they're gonna make some baddies evaporate! Spoilers for both the movie and the book are immediate! Enjoy! I own nothing!

P.S. This chapter holds the new record for longest chapter yet, so you might want to take a bathroom break first or something...

Stephanie had been pulling weeds in the garden, doing everything in her power not to worry. An exercise in futility is what her efforts amounted to, and the trembling in her hands had grown steadily worse until she had barely been able to grasp the trowel, and it had shortly after tumbled onto the grass as her reserve shattered. In the back of her mind, she knew that she had to have been overreacting.

Last night had been nothing but a freak storm, lightning and winds that had grown to astonishing heights and magnitude as a result of two unnaturally strong fronts colliding. And yet, Stephanie’s mind refused to accept that truth entirely. Something about it felt wrong…unnatural…supernatural even, and as much as Stephanie had hated to admit it, perhaps that zealotus Ms. Carmody had more of an influence on her than she’d thought. David had always told her that the crazy woman had gotten into her head with her tales of divine intervention and conspiracy theories, but Stephanie had always light-heartedly rebuked his jibes, even if she could always feel the underlying seriousness behind his joking manner. Her husband worried about her almost as much as she worried about him, which was certainly saying something, as Stephanie’s capacity for love often made her worry unnecessarily so for him despite knowing how capable he was. She was experiencing an example of such behavior now, and she had tried to tell herself that both he and Billy would only be gone for a little while. An hour at most. They’d come back with the groceries she’d requested, and she’d have lunch waiting for them both when they got here. David would fix up the window like he said he would, and Billy could play where Stephanie could see him. The power company would have their electricity restored in no time, and that night she would fall asleep with David in her arms…and…and…

It was then that she’d fallen to her knees and sobbed, all the while still berating herself for doing so in the first place, as crying like this served no purpose. It wasn’t like anyone had died, hell, it wasn’t like anyone had even been hurt at all. All that had happened was a freak thunderstorm the night before, strong enough to fell trees and knock out the power but hardly a disaster by any means.

And yet, it stood out to Stephanie, as plain as the numerous fallen trees around her all snapped in half at their trunks by the wind and lightning the night before. It stood out because what if the storm had been just a bit stronger? What if the wind had blown just a little bit harder and the tree that now leaned through the living room window had gone through the floor instead while they were in the basement? What if the roof had collapsed and rubble had trapped them down there without any means of escape? What if…if…?

Stephanie shook her head, and in the back of her mind she had wondered if she should have gone with David and Billy and yes, even that creep Norton into town to pick up supplies. The house now seemed so empty without them, and despite the distant chorus of chainsaws up and down the lake that signaled that the neighbors were still there and cleaning up their own fallen timber, Stephanie felt incredibly alone and more vulnerable by the second.

As her thoughts drifted to the lake, Stephanie then remembered the strange fog they’d witnessed earlier that morning building on the water and coming down from the mountains. Compared to the storm, that strange Mist had seemed far more unnatural, but David’s reassurance that it was simply nothing more than a standard fog bank had temporarily quelled Stephanie’s fear, but David was not here now, and her heart began to pound in her chest and drown out the distant metallic roaring of the neighbors and their saws.

That fog gave her chills the moment she’d laid eyes on it earlier this morning. The thickness of it combined with the fact that it had actually appeared to be moving towards their house in spite of the opposing breeze had shocked her to the core as well. And to make matters worse, Stephanie had noticed that the encroaching edge of the fogbank had been straight as a ruler, lacking the natural bulges and pockets and swells that could be seen with a typical mist.

The thought of the fog now dominated Stephanie’s mind, growing more and more prevalent as soon as her thoughts had turned to it, and try as she might to calm herself and focus once again on the weeding at hand, she couldn’t shake the awful feeling in her gut every time she pictured the misty cloud in her mind. Her imagination worked against her in that regard, and she shuddered as an unbidden image appeared in her thoughts of the bank growing closer and closer.

Her anxiety eventually grew to a fever pitch, and Stephanie at last dropped the tools in her hands and tried not to run around the back of the house and towards the shoreline. Her sunhat caught the breeze as she moved and fell down onto her back, still clinging to her by the neck rope, but Stephanie hardly noticed as the lake came into view, or rather, what little could still be seen.

Her worst fears were realized immediately. The Mist, still in spite of the light wind in the opposite direction, was growing closer, and it had only seemed to pick up speed as it rolled across the lake. Its unnaturally straight edge is what terrorized Stephanie the most, and in that moment, the Mist almost seemed alive somehow, like it was operating with a will of its own against the natural order of the world.

Stephanie noticed then that the lake had grown very quiet now, eerily so in fact, as the chainsaws and sounds of neighbors at work ceased entirely, leaving only silence to echo throughout the valley and off the fogbank itself.

The edge of the Mist was less than one hundred yards from her, and Stephanie gasped when she saw that it was moving even faster than before. It would be to the shore where she now stood in less than a minute at this rate, and that thought alone made Stephanie turn on her heel and sprint back to the house as quickly as she could, her irrational fear of what that Mist was or what may be within it overriding her senses entirely.

With a frantic grunt, Stephanie threw open the rear door of the lakehouse and hurried inside, slamming the door fiercely and locking it before scrambling to the front door to do the same. She returned to the living room to see if the fog had made it to the shore already when her eyes were drawn to the window, which was still wide open with numerous oak branches sticking into the living room.

Stephanie cried out in desperation and fear at the sight, her thoughts immediately fearing the worst if the Mist held any form of toxin within, and she began to cry once more as the cloud finally rolled over the shore and reached the house at last. Visibility immediately dropped to less than five feet in any direction Stephanie looked, and in her panic she neglected to hold her breath as small wisps of the fog filtered through the window and into the living room. By the time Stephanie realized her error, she realized she’d been breathing in the gas for nearly half a minute now, and no side effects could be noted. There was a faint acrid smell seemingly coming from the Mist itself, but the smell of the Mist could be greatly ignored in favor of the fact that it wasn’t poisonous. Stephanie exhaled in shaky relief, then took the time to study the cloud closely through the large living room window.

The fog itself was heavy, of that there could be no doubt. The thick blanket of white blotted out even the sun into a dull sliver. The furthest Stephanie could see was the vaguest outline of the stump of the tree that was penetrating through the window and into the living room, but beyond that, she could see nothing amidst the solid state of gray.

She stared in a stunned silence out at the fog itself, then frantically rushed to the phone, only to angrily slam it down again when no dial tone greeted her. The storm had not only knocked out their power, but their phone lines as well, and the realization that she was now completely unable to reach anyone without going outside filled her heart with startling dread once more. Stephanie's stomach dropped again as her thoughts immediately went to David and Billy, and a horrid image appeared in her mind of the two of them stranded in their vehicle on the road somewhere, barely able to drive forward without going agonizingly slow. Oh god, what if they hit someone? What if someone hit them?

Fresh tears blossomed in the corners of Stephanie’s eyes, and she held her arms across her stomach and hunched over in fear over what might have become of her husband and child. The moisture in her eyes clouded her view of the outside even more than the fog did, but her agonizing cry was cut off all the same as her brain caught the slightest twitch of possible movement in the fog.

Her eyes blinked rapidly to clear her vision at the sight, and once most of the tears had been hastily swiped away, Stephanie looked wide-eyed out the window once more, her face momentarily losing its sorrow and replacing it with silent anxiety. For a few agonizing seconds, nothing moved out there in the cloudy Mist, then Stephanie saw it. She could make out nothing more than a darker blob of gray amidst the lighter shade of the fog, but it was there. Judging from what Stephanie saw, she estimated it to be the size of a small dog, but it was moving not at all how a dog would, especially for how fast it was going. It appeared to be scuttling almost, and Stephanie forced a hand over her mouth to avoid crying out as the small form moved across the ground of the backyard and out of sight, immaterializing back into the fog as soon as it had come.

She took a tentative step back, then fell to the floor as a thunderous booming noise blasted her eardrums. The floor, the house, and even the Earth itself shook with the noise, and Stephanie grasped the hardwood beneath her hands for something to hold onto as the earthquake rattled plates and cups in the nearby kitchen.

And then, as soon as it began, the shaking and rumbling stopped, and an eerie silence followed in its wake. Stephanie stayed on the floor, worried that the sudden earthquake might have been the first of many, but the ground beneath her remained stationary. After a few more moments of silent anticipation, she shakily rose to her feet and dared to look out of the living room window once more. The Mist remained, and she internally slapped herself for thinking that something like an earthquake was going to magically dissipate the strange fog. In the back of her mind, however, Stephanie couldn’t fight the inkling that they were connected somehow.

Her thoughts were broken as she spied movement in the fog once more, only this time, multiple blobs of gray moved across her vision instead of just one.

Her gasp caught in her throat. There weren't just two or three or even five…No, there were dozens of them, and they were all scuttling low across the ground back and forth as though they were circling the house. Stephanie took another step backward, then jolted with a scream as a large black object leapt from the aether and landed on the glass of the living room window, its heavy impact sending a web of cracks throughout the thick pane.

Spider.

That was the first thought that came into Stephanie’s terrorized mind, but to call this nightmarish creature a spider was would be only half correct. The creature held an appearance that was very similar to a common arachnid, except that it clung to the other side of the glass with nearly twice the amount of legs Stephanie knew spiders to have. Its inky black body cast a stark contrast against the backdrop of the Mist, and Stephanie could see thin yellow piping running along its abdomen and terminating at the end of its body. It was also massive. Massive enough to be the amorphous anomaly that she had seen run past before. It was the size of a large dog and at least twice as wide, and Stephanie screamed as the creature took notice of her through the glass with a head full of reddish-purple eyes, each the size of a marble.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been real. This was some horrible dream, and Stephanie was certain that she was going to wake up any second now, safe and warm with her arms wrapped around David and Billy would be jumping up and down by their bed, excitedly requesting pancakes for breakfast. Yes, that's what this was. Just some nightmare that she’d wake up from any se—

Another spider landed on the glass, causing a new network of cracks to form across the now opaque surface. The cracks twisted and joined with the cracks already previously made by the first spider, and Stephanie heard the glass creak as it struggled to hold the weight of the two gargantuan arachnids.

Dream or not, Stephanie was no less terrified, and with all the remaining sanity she could muster, she turned and bolted from the living room and through the kitchen. Sandwiches and lunch were furthest from her mind now, and she clawed open the door to the basement and threw herself inside before turning around and locking it behind her. An idle thought wondered how long the door would hold against a wolf-sized demon spider, nevermind two of the beasts, and Stephanie crushed the thought down as best as she could before turning away from the now locked door and fleeing down the remaining stairs and into the basement proper. Originally designed by David’s father when the house had been built, the pragmatic man had seen it to ensure that the basement doubled well as a shelter if need be, meaning that there were no windows. That was a fact that Stephanie now found herself eternally grateful for.

But now, no windows combined with no power meant that Stephanie was in complete darkness. The only thing she could see was a small strip of dulled light from under the upstairs door. Her thoughts went to the candles that they’d lit when they’d slept down here last night, and Stephanie fumbled her way forward to where she remembered them to be. Thankfully, the matchbook was still sitting right next to the candles, and with trembling hands, Stephanie pulled one of the small wooden sticks from the pack and struck it firmly against the lighting strip. There was a brief spark as the match attempted to light, then pitch blackness fell over the basement as the flare failed to catch.

Stephanie swore and tried again with more force, and was rewarded this time as the head of the matchstick burst into flame and held. Stephanie took comfort in the sudden light for only a moment, and then held the match quickly to the wick of the first candle. It had previously been lit the night before, and the already used wick eagerly ignited at the flame’s touch.

The sound of shattering glass upstairs brought Stephanie's hammering heart to a stop. Her breath shuddered to a halt as well, and she remained terror-strickenly still as she listened. After a few moments of nothing, she heard it.

Movement.

Scuttling, to be specific.

There were multiple instances of it too. The upstairs was now full of them. Too many for Stephanie to accurately guess, but enough that she could hear them from every corner of the basement.

Then there was the relatively deafening noise of the tap-scuttling on the door at the top of the stairs, and Stephanie clamped a hand over her mouth to keep herself from shrieking in despair. The scuttling stopped for a beat, then started again, growing more faint as the source moved away from the door. The scuttling continued on the floorboards above as the creatures began to explore the house, and Stephanie listened to them for almost half an hour before cradling her lone candle in her hands and sinking slowly onto the bed that she’d shared with David and Billy the night before. Her thoughts went to them, and she immediately regretted it as visions of the two of them swarmed by those demon spiders above flooded her consciousness. The tears came again, and Stephanie buried her face in a pillow to muffle her sobs.

She was trapped now. She couldn’t leave. The creatures above still continued to move around the floors and walls of her home, though their movements had decreased in frequency as they became acclimated to the space. Now, the slower and methodical sort of scuttling she heard seemed to indicate that they were making themselves at home. They didn’t seem to be going anywhere, so that meant neither was she.

There were provisions down here, enough to last their family a week if need be, and Stephanie prayed that these monsters would leave or at least be driven away before then. But even if they did, then what? The spiders might leave, but what about the Mist? What else lurked in the white fog that defied reason and logic? Certainly the Army or the National Guard would come? They had tanks and guns and things that could wipe these creatures out. But how long would that take? Would they even think to come here?

Those frantic thoughts and many others filled Stephanie’s mind as she sat alone by candlelight in the basement of their once quiet and peaceful home. Overarching all of those thoughts, she wished David were here. He always seemed to make things better. She did everything in her power not to dwell on where he and Billy were now, and furiously reminded herself that she had no clue as to how widespread this horrid Mist was. Maybe they were clear of it. Maybe they’d made it far enough that the fog hadn’t reached them.

Doubts formed immediately in her mind at this, however. Doubts that poisoned her mind and made her sink further into herself.

For countless hours, Stephanie sat listening to the periodic scuttling of the spiders above. How long she truly spent down there, she did not know. The one clock that sat down in the basement had been electric, leaving her no way to tell the time with the loss of power. She watched as the candle burnt low, and she eventually lit another one when it had burned down to its stub. Every so often, tears would come, and Stephanie fell into a rhythm of pressing her face into the pillow until she stopped. She also prayed. She prayed like she’d never prayed before, asking for a sign, a saint, anything that might save the lives of her family. Eventually, Stephanie cried and prayed herself out and fell asleep. No dreams came to her, as she’d exhausted every part of herself that day, meaning that she had no energy left to even dream.

How long she slept, Stephanie did not know, but when she awoke, the basement was pitch black again, as the candle had burnt itself out during the course of her slumber. For the briefest of moments, she had panicked, forgetting where she was and why it was so dark. She calmed down as the memories slowly returned to her, but they offered no comfort as she was once again reminded of the dire situation she was in. Another candle was lit shortly after, though her actions were slow and unenthusiastic as the cold weight of futility began to settle on her mind.

She sat in silence for a little while before daring to move slowly around the basement, looking over the various items of furniture and clothing that had been stored down there as items that were not worthless enough to sell or give away, but still not important enough to keep upstairs where they’d be more easily accessible. Stephanie might’ve once smirked at the irony that these were now the only things she had access to, but she was too tired for humor. It was the kind of fatigue that sleep did not fix. She slept again after a while, though dreams continued to elude her. She was too tired for those anyway.

When she awoke once more, the third candle had burnt itself out. She barely found the motivation to light a fourth.

How long had she been down here now? A few hours? A day? A week? How much longer would she have to wait?

Darkened thoughts came to her again, and this time, Stephanie did not have the mental strength to banish them.

David…

Billy…

What were the odds they were still alive? Had they made it to somewhere safe before the Mist had come? And even if they had, how long before they were rescued, if at all? How long before they told their rescuers where she was?

No one was coming.

The thought had been so sudden, and yet, it was the loudest of all in her mind. It had popped into her head of its own volition, and Stephanie offered up a paltry resistance against it, but it was like her mind had already accepted it as an undeniable fact.

No one was coming.

And even if they did, they wouldn’t save her. There seemed to be nearly dozens of those monstrous spiders above, and any attempt to rescue her would surely end in death at the hands of those creatures.

Stephanie felt herself grow numb as her mind settled on its conclusion. There was no point in denying it now. This house would be her tomb. Whether she died of starvation in a pointless attempt to survive as long as possible, or whether she was eaten alive by the creatures waiting upstairs, it made little difference. The outcome was the same. Her thoughts then turned to consider the inevitability of it, and how despite the fact that her death was coming anyway, she still had some power over her fate: how to meet it.

In the dull orange glow from the candle, Stephanie looked up the stairs to the door at the top. The sliver of gray still permeated from underneath the portal, meaning that it was daytime at least. Whether it was the same day as when she’d first come down here or three days later, Stephanie did not know.

Her mind dwelt on how much longer she had in terms of food. There was still plenty stored away in the pantry built for such a purpose, and though she was no survivalist, Stephanie figured she could last at least another two weeks down here. Was that enough time to be rescued? Stephanie was doubtful, especially if this Mist covered more than just the lake. Perhaps it went even further than the state line…maybe even the entire eastern seaboard…

No one was coming.

She’d already accepted that as fact, which easily defeated the argument of staying down here and wasting away until the food ran out.

That left only one option.

She took a step towards the stairs, her mind slipping into a haze that could be considered akin to the fog outside. It was the only way she could see this through. Dissociation was what she needed to give her the strength to do this.

David. Billy. I’m so sorry.

The tears came again, but they went unnoticed as she reached the foot of the stairs. In a trance, Stephanie laid her hands out onto the railings, her head tilting up to look at the orange-bathed door and the sliver of gray light slipping through the bottom.

Please forgive me.

Perhaps that was the light at the end of the tunnel. Seeing it now, Stephanie felt closer to God than she’d ever had, regardless of the fact that all of this was likely a result of His abandonment of them. She sent one last prayer up to beg for forgiveness, doubtful that anyone was listening now.

No one is there. No one is coming.

At least she could be sure of two things now.

Her foot had just climbed the first stair when a loud commotion came from above. It had sounded like a heavy crash, and Stephanie could hear the splintering of wood over the sudden surprised movement of the spiders upstairs.

There was a brief pause, then a deep bark rumbled throughout the house, sounding like something close to the bark of a dog but deeper and more warped, as if it had been twisted in an unnatural imitation of itself. It carried far more weight as well, the strength of it evident in the way that it still echoed throughout the house even though the bark itself lasted only a split second.

The bark was followed by a growl emanating from the same source, and it carried the same distortion and power as the bark that preceded it. Stephanie heard the screech of a few of the spiders in response, but they sounded so insignificant now compared to whatever new creature had just broken in.

Then, all hell broke loose as something large and heavy began aggressively moving about the upstairs. The sound of the large spiders running this way and that overlapped into a continuous scraping, but the pounding of the larger creature permeated through the sea of noise, and periodically, Stephanie heard the dull thud as it crashed into the walls and furniture. The spiders screeched even louder, and even though Stephanie had no familiarity with this form of arachnid, she still knew what cries of pain sounded like.

She remained still as the carnage upstairs continued, and after only another minute or so, the overarching scuttling began to falter and break, indicating that fewer and fewer spiders were active and moving with each passing second. The snarls of the larger beast grew more and more dominating as a result.

A deafening blast was then heard, and Stephanie immediately recognized it as the discharge of a firearm, and a powerful one at that. The larger beast had not ceased its assault by any means, but it was obvious that something new had entered the fray as well.

The firearm discharged again, and then five times more before silence finally fell upstairs. There was no more scuttling to be heard, and Stephanie stood frozen with her foot still perched on the bottom stair as her ears strained to make out any form of movement on the floor above. Only ringing reached her ears at first, courtesy of the gunfire, then the heavy thud of footsteps began, combined with a lighter trotting of something four-legged as well.

Stephanie turned to look at the point on the ceiling where the footsteps were just above, following the heavy footfalls as they worked their way across the living room and into the kitchen, steadily growing louder all the time. The steps were slow and controlled, giving the impression that whoever, or whatever was making them carried an assurance and relative calmness that Stephanie certainly did not share.

The footsteps continued until they stopped right in front of the door to the basement, and Stephanie jumped when something on the other side rapped three slow and distinct knocks on the wood. The door shuddered with each knock, as if it was having trouble withstanding the force used to knock against it, but Stephanie remained still, her mind blank and unable to come to a decision as to whether she should answer. Whatever was up there obviously knew that she was down here, but Stephanie had no indication as to if it was friendly or not. It sounded just now as though it had killed the spiders, but that did not mean that it held her best interests. What if—

“We mean you no harm,” came a sudden cold and metallically pleasant voice from behind the door. “We wish only to provide assistance.”

…

“What will keep them at bay? The rock will not hide them! The dead tree offers no shelter!”

“Expiation…”

“What will end it? Let me hear it!”

“Expiation.”

“Say it again, like you mean it!”

“Expiation!”

Ollie sighed next to David as they all looked on at the spectacle.

“Welcome to Sesame Street,” he said in a low sarcastic voice so that only David and the few others could hear from where they stood apart from the main group. “Today’s word is: expiation.”

David’s eyes wandered across the gathering that had built in the meat section, staring with defeat at the amount of followers Mrs. Carmody had amassed. Those that weren’t enthusiastically participating in her sermon still listened raptly to her every word, seemingly taking in sustenance from her preaches of deliverance and salvation from the nightmare by atoning for their sins. His eyes stopped when he saw Jim standing at the front of the congregation, more involved with the chants than anyone else.

“That boy hasn’t been right since the pharmacy,” came Dan’s weathered voice from beside him. “His mind just snapped.”

In a way, David understood why. Jim had seen the horrors of the Mist just the same as they all had ever since they’d found themselves trapped inside the store. Everything that they thought existed only in fairy tales and nightmares had become real in a matter of minutes, shaking the foundation of everyone’s belief in what was and wasn’t possible.

And that M.P., the one they’d discovered when they tried to run to the pharmacy for supplies… What those creatures had done to him…That had shaken all of them to the core, those that had seen it. David, despite the terror he felt, tried to remain strong and put on a brave face despite the despair he felt inside himself. He had to be strong, for Billy, who was sitting idly just down the produce aisle from him…and for Stephanie.

David’s thoughts turned to her for what seemed like the millionth time now over the last day and a half. He hoped and prayed with everything he had that she was alright. She was tough, and she had enough food to survive, and his only hope was that she had been able to make it inside before the Mist had fallen.

“It hasn’t even been two days…” Amanda muttered from his left shoulder. “Not even two days for them to lose their minds…”

The older man, Ambrose, grunted from where he stood at the back of their small group of outcasts.

“I’m not spending the rest of my life here,” the grizzled man said resolutely.

Ollie looked over at all of them, then spoke softly so that no one outside the group could hear.

“I could quietly gather up some bags of supplies,” Ollie said, his eyes already moving up and down the aisles, looking like he was already sorting out what they’d need if they were to try and survive outside the store. “I can hide them up by one of the check stands by the door.”

“It was your idea, David,” Dan said, the seven of them unwittingly turning to make a small huddle of discussion. “It’s your vehicle, so it’s your call.”

David remembered. He remembered how he’d suggested that a few of them that still had their sanity could gather some supplies and try for his vehicle located only twenty feet away in the parking lot. They might not even make it two feet past the doors let alone twenty, but they had to try something, anything rather than sit here and wait for something else to come in and kill them.

“I’d rather die out there, trying ,” Amanda said, echoing his thoughts. “I don’t want to die here, simply waiting.”

A look across the others’ faces showed that they shared in Amanda’s mindset, and David found himself slowly nodding along with them. Anything if it meant he could escape from Mrs. Carmody’s delusional ranting and maybe see Steff again…

“I want some idea of what we’re up against,” he said resolutely. “I wanna know what this Mist is. We gotta talk to the soldiers.”

“The soldiers?” Ollie asked, his face scrunching up in confusion. “What’s that gonna do?”

“You heard what that M.P. said at the pharmacy, Ollie. They know something.”

“David, I don’t even know what he was saying. The situation was insane!”

“He said he was sorry…” Irene said, the older woman’s eyes flitting contemplatively. “Wasn’t that the word he used? Sorry. ”

“That’s right,” Dan agreed with a nod. “He said it was their fault. The Mist…the monsters…everything.”

“W-what did he mean by that?”

“That’s what we’re gonna find out,” David replied. “Come on…”

He turned and led the group away from the congregation, leaving Mrs. Carmody and her followers to continue their shouts of delivery and sacrifice.

…

The alpha hellhound paced impatiently as both it and the Doom Slayer waited for the human behind the door to answer. The hound could smell her quite clearly, as fear left a quite pungent aroma in the air when it was experienced by humans, or at least, it did to the hound. It growled annoyedly and tilted its head questioningly to the Doom Slayer, curious as to why he refused to open the door himself. The hound fundamentally knew what locks were, but both it and the Doom Slayer were more than capable of breaking this door down to come face to face with the human inside, lock or not.

Eventually, the hound concluded that the Slayer had opted against destroying the door in order to keep it as a possible future barrier to protect the human inside if need be.

From what the hound had seen of the prey that existed in this world, if something out there really wanted to, they could destroy the door as well. What they possessed in strength, however, they did not possess in intelligence, and the hound doubted the creatures would recognize a door when they saw one, meaning that as long as the door remained closed, they would pass it by without a second thought.

So that meant the door had to stay unbroken, though it was becoming more and more difficult to resist the urge to charge through it by the second.

An idea then crossed into the hound’s mind. It knew how doors worked, so maybe it could open the door from the inside.

Without a second thought, the hound summoned its will and warped into the basement with a flash of lightning.

Immediately, it came face to face with a startled human female, who shrieked in surprise and horror and scrambled backwards from it. A quick glance around the darkened basement showed the only source of light to be a candle on the bedside table, meaning that the flames on the hound’s back brightened the space considerably with its arrival. Shadows danced on the now orangish-amber walls, and the hound spared the terrified woman a glance before trotting up the stairs to the door that now separated it and the Doom Slayer. A keen glance with its glowing eyes told the hound that there appeared to be no external locking mechanism on the door itself, meaning that its lock must have existed in the handle.

Standing up on its hind legs, the hound experimentally took the door handle in its teeth and jolted it slightly. It was rewarded with a sharp click as the lock on the door disengaged, and with a twist of its head and a push with its forelegs, the door slowly opened, revealing the Doom Slayer’s waiting form on the other side.

The hound gave a snort, then turned and trotted back downstairs into the basement, the Doom Slayer following its lead and shutting the basement door behind him.

Back at the bottom of the stairs, the human female had scrambled to her feet and pressed herself as far away from the two of them as was possible, her terrified eyes looking between the hound and the Slayer as though the two of them were going to attack at any second. There was a brief moment of silence, then the strange voice that lived in the Slayer’s suit spoke to the woman, and though the hound did not understand the words, it deciphered that the voice was doing what it could to reassure her, though it seemed to have minimal effect.

The woman asked a question in a stammer, and the strange voice answered almost immediately. The woman asked more questions after that, and the hound began to grow bored as the verbal interaction continued. Looking around the darkened room, the canine gave an experimental sniff in the direction of the food storages that the woman had stacked nearby, but found nothing of interest. It had eaten its fill just a few minutes ago, as the number of arachnids combined with their large forms had been a feast for it. Its stomach was satisfactorily full.

A glance back at the woman showed that she seemed to grow a bit more trusting of them as the conversation went on, then the hound detected frantic enthusiasm in her voice as she began gesturing with her hands and pointing to an arbitrary destination the hound could not see. It looked as though she was requesting something from them now, and the hound tilted its head once more in curiosity of what it was she wanted.

The voice gave a final few words of reassurance, then the Doom Slayer turned its attention to the hound, who looked back up at him expectantly.

The Slayer gestured lightly towards the woman, and the hound picked up instantly from his body language that he wanted it to stay with her. For how long, the hound did not know, but it felt the spark of indignation appear within its being at being asked to look after this human like she was some young pup. Not in the least when it knew that stronger prey existed out there in the strange fog that enveloped this land. The hound’s excitement over hunting powerful prey was quickly being stifled by the Slayer’s order to guard the woman, and it gave a grunt, but it relented, yielding to the Slayer’s request despite its indignity.

Taking a few steps forward, the hellhound sat down on its haunches, locking eyes with the woman as she eyed it distrustingly. The voice spoke to her again, likely explaining that the hound would be staying with her, and she shook her head and made some sort of excuse in response, which was in turn calmly and easily rebuked by the voice. The woman’s nervous gaze looked from the Slayer to the hound in desperation, but she seemed to realize quite quickly that she had no say in this matter. It seemed to the hound that she was just as unenthused about the situation as it was, though their newfound common ground did little to improve the hound’s agitation at being assigned to guard a single human.

This was the first one they’d found alive since arriving in this world, and the hound could smell the familiar aroma of death stemming from the neighboring houses, signifying that there were no other living humans for miles around. They had already been hunted and devoured by the creatures that dwelled in this Mist.

With seemingly nothing left to say, the Doom Slayer gave the hound a small nod and walked back up the stairs, his heavy footfalls growing more and more muffled as he reached the top and crossed the living room to the outside. He had shut the door to the basement before he left, which had made the hound’s flaming fur once again the primary source of light within the room.

Silence fell save for the light crackling of embers from its hell-hide, and before long, the hound eventually laid down completely, consciously diminishing its flames in order not to catch the floor on fire.

With the loss of most of its flames, the woman seemed to relax ever so slightly, perhaps reassured now that the alpha looked more akin to a naturally-born wolf instead of an apex predator from the dark aether. Tentatively, she moved away from her position in the far corner in the room and took a seat at the foot of the bed, now closer to where the hound lay but still keeping her distance.

The hound watched her as she moved, its ears still listening for any commotion outside now that the Slayer’s footfalls had faded into the Mist. For some reason, sound was warped by the strange fog outside, making every noise muffled even when in close proximity to the source. The discovery annoyed the hound considerably, so it turned to its sense of smell, and was rewarded when it realized that the opposite effect seemed to have occurred for its olfactory organs.

Thanks to the strange properties of the Mist, its range of smell was now exponentially more sensitive than what it was normally, though its original range was certainly nothing to scoff at either. It raised its head and experimentally sniffed the air, catching a faint whiff of the Slayer’s metallic armor as he continued away from their location, likely towards whatever obscure destination the woman had given him. Another sniff revealed the faint remnants of gasoline and exhaust from the human dwellings around the lake, perhaps from one of the numerous gasoline-powered tools humans used from time to time. Judging from the strength and intensity of the smell, the hound estimated the farthest of the smells was almost a dozen miles away, setting a record for the greatest distance the hound had ever picked up a scent from.

Standing up, the hound slowly paced around the basement, continuing to test the limits of its newfound super-smell. It smelled the strong carrion of the human victims that the Mist had taken already, it also smelled the unease and fright of the local animals in the area, those that did not originally stem from the Mist. Such creatures were woefully underdeveloped compared to the new life that now walked among them, making them all easy prey for the monsters that had spawned. Those that had tried to flee had been hunted and slaughtered, and those that hid shared the same fate, their efforts only delaying the inevitable.

A new smell registered on the tip of the hound’s nostrils, and it immediately bristled as it recognized it to be a creature of the Mist. It was approaching rapidly through the fog, heading directly for their current location. The hound recognized it as exceptionally large, and its strong smell was also indicative of the fact that the creature itself was formidable.

The hound let out a low growl, startling the woman and causing her to half-rise from the bed she sat on. Her scared human eyes searched the hound questioningly, but the hound paid her little mind. Its focus was on the approaching challenger, and its initial irritation at being left behind by the Slayer quickly faded as it felt the thrill of the hunt well up within it. The flames on its hide flared in response, causing the woman to take a half-step back and hold a hand up to shield herself from the light and heat.

The hound gave the human a quick glance, then warped out of the basement and into the Mist outside, shaking its fur upon its arrival to ensure that its own scent carried through the forest and to the approaching creature.

The challenge was accepted with a distant roar and the scent of adrenaline coursing through the new monster’s body. The hound felt the thrill soar within itself even more at its response, and it began pacing with anticipation as the creature grew nearer. Its hell-hide burned brighter as well, and the resulting blaze evaporated the Mist around it, the fogbank seemingly retreating in deference to the life-fire that flared from the alpha.

The scent of the creature reached its apex, and as if on cue, a large shadowy form coalesced from the Mist, slowly stalking forward into the ring of clear visibility that had centered around the hellhound.

It was large, significantly larger than the hound, and it walked on four powerful legs that ended in sharp claws that looked perfect for climbing steep surfaces or tearing into prey. Further observation showed it to be reptilian in nature, with a smooth pointed head that extended from a rigidly scaled body. A long tail swished back and forth menacingly from its posterior, and a pair of glowing golden eyes with vertical slits for irises studied the hound menacingly.

The canine growled as the creature locked eyes with it, and the reptilian monster responded in kind with an aggressive hiss that showcased rows of razor sharp teeth within a gargantuan mouth. Its slitted eyes narrowed, and its large body began to slither fluidly back and forth as it sized up its foe.

With a trained eye developed over time by hunting all manner of prey, the hound took note of the creature’s more dangerous traits. The claws and the teeth were obvious enough, but it also noted its scaled body and tail as well. Scaly skin was difficult to find purchase on, which meant the hound would need to exercise extra caution when attempting to bite. The monster’s neck was also as thick as its head, meaning a quick kill by snapping the joint was out of the question.

Looking now to its tail, the hound noted that the size and length would make for an excellent bludgeon, and it held no doubt that the creature would attempt to use it in combat.

With initial observations complete, it was easy to see that this monster was well-suited for battle and was likely considered to be the top of the food chain among the other creatures that resided within the Mist.

Unfortunately for it, the hellhound was also at the top of the food chain, and though the monster was sure to be formidable in a fight, the hound could see the inexperience in its eyes. The vertical slits carried a blatant arrogance that suggested the creature was assured of its victory, likely only taking into account its size advantage as the sole determinant of who would survive the ensuing brawl. It did not yet understand that size was not everything, though it would learn that lesson soon enough courtesy of a true apex predator.

Planting its feet, the hound’s growl crescendoed into a loud bark, and without waiting for the monster to reply, it charged forward, its fangs bared murderously.

…

“No! No, it wasn’t me!”

David struggled to try and reach Jessup, but the angry hands of Mrs. Carmody’s mob held him back. Everyone in the store had formed a ring around the soldier, and the private had been forced to his knees as by the now zealotus Jim.

“Private Jessup,” Mrs. Carmody said accusingly. “Tell us the truth!”

“I’m just…I'm just stationed up there!” Jessup said from his position on the floor. He held his hands out in an attempt to quell the frenzied glares from the mob around him, but David could see that these people were now beyond reason. And now that there was possibly blame to place, all of the pent up rage and “righteous fury” that these people felt was about to be unleashed.

“I’m not responsible…”

“Bullshit!” Jim barked from where he stood next to Jessup, fists balled in anticipation in case Jessup tried to rise.

“I’m a local!” Jessup shouted back. “Hell, most of you people know me!”

Mrs. Carmody stepped forward and wrapped her hand around his throat, choking the words from Jessup’s mouth before he could speak again.

“You stop your chicken-shit prattling now, or I will cut your puling tongue out, boy. Now, tell us!”

Mrs. Carmody forcefully released him, and David attempted to reach him once again before being forced backward by the mob.

“You stay out of this, Drayton,” one of the men hissed dangerously.

Jessup doubled over and coughed as his airway became clear once again, and the store fell silent save for the low drone of the fluorescent lights above.

“Ok, ok,” he said desperately. “I heard stuff.”

“Stuff,” Mrs. Carmody said with a sneer.

“Yes! We all heard stuff! Like…like how they thought there were other dimensions, you know? Other…other worlds around us and how they wanted to try and make like…like a window or something. Then maybe they could look through and see what was on the other side.”

Silence reigned once again, but the air was thick with the weight of what Jessup had just said. Even the prophetic Mrs. Carmody was speechless, her hand held over her mouth in absolute shock. It was a long moment before she finally spoke.

“Well, maybe your window turned out to be a door, didn’t it?”

“No! Not mine! The scientists…”

“Oh yes, yes, the scientists, of course.”

“Yes! They must have ripped a hole open by accident, and that world came spilling into ours. That’s what Donaldsen was saying to me right before he killed himself! I didn’t understand half of it! That’s all I know! I swear!”

Jessup was crying now, pleading with every ounce of his being for the crowd to listen, but even a blind man could see the vengefulness in their eyes.

“It ain’t my fault!”

“Oh,” Mrs. Carmody said, throwing her hands up as if all was suddenly made right by his denial.

“It. Ain’t. His. Fault. Of course not. Ain’t nothing ever anyone’s fault. But he denies it! He points the finger!”

Mrs. Carmody gestured down to Jessup’s trembling form.

“This Judas in our midst!”

David attempted to push forward once more, but he was shoved back roughly once again, this time with enough force to almost topple him.

“You…”

The commotion had been enough to draw Mrs. Carmody’s attention, and David felt his skin crawl as she fixed him with vehement eyes.

“Don’t you know by now, David Drayton? Have you not seen the truth with your own eyes? We are being punished. And for what?”

Mrs. Carmody turned back to Jessup and grabbed him by the chin.

“For going against God’s will. For going against His forbidden rules of old! Walking on the moon! Splitting his atoms! Yes! Or messing with His stem cells to try and unlock the secrets of life that only He has any right to!”

Her sermon was answered by numerous shouts of “Amen!” as the crowd began to rile up. Jessup pleadingly looked around himself for help, only growing more and more nervous as the shouting grew louder.

“And now, His judgment has come upon us! The Fiend is let loose! Star Wormwood blazes!”

Her finger came to point at Jessup once more.

“And it is his fault!”

“No!” Jessup cried out, his fear turning to desperate anger at last. “It is not my fault!”

“They have spit into the eye of the Almighty!”

“NO!”

Jessup jumped to his feet and tried to run, but he was forcefully grabbed by Jim and thrown forward into the crowd of Mrs. Carmody’s bloodthirsty followers. The crowd began pummeling him in his attempts to escape, driving him back into the circle and bouncing him around like a trapped animal in a cage.

David lunged forward again, but this time, Jim turned and drove his fist hard into David’s face, staggering him and forcing him back once more. Ollie and Ambrose both supported him so that he didn’t fall to the floor, but their hands now held him back as well.

Angered shouts grew more vicious as the crowd continued to punish Jessup. Shoves turned into punches, and Jessup's pained shouts made David’s stomach churn.

He was just a kid.

Couldn’t have been older than nineteen.

And yet, the angry mob still tore into him as though he was nothing more than a rabid dog. How did it come to this? How had they lost their grip so much that they were now lashing out at someone who wasn’t even responsible for this?

David saw the knife appear moments before it struck, and even still, he almost couldn’t believe it when Mr. McVey, the once kind man that operated the grill for the store, buried his favorite cooking utensil in Jessup’s stomach. What had once been the kindly gentleman that always offered Billy a free sample of whatever he was cooking for the day had turned into nothing more than a zealotus acolyte, and David’s shouts were drowned out by the crowd as Mr. McVey stabbed Jessup once more.

Twice more.

Blood now dripped freely onto the linoleum, sprouting fat red puddles on the otherwise polished white surface. Jessup’s cries ceased, for now his mouth hung agape in pain and shock, unable to comprehend what was happening to him.

David watched in horror as little old ladies and mothers and fathers all closed in on the poor boy. People who Jessup had once regarded as neighbors and even friends were now all cheering as blood seeped from his stomach, whatever humanity they’d once had now evaporated courtesy of the Mist outside.

And above all the chaos, despite the roar of the crowd and the frantic pleas of David and his group to stop, Mrs. Carmody’s voice carried over the aisles and counters.

“Feed him to the beasts! Let the abominations smell his blood!”

“Expiation! Expiation! ”

Jessup’s howling form was hoisted into the air, countless hands holding him aloft and starting towards the doors. His limbs, whether by intention or not, were spread in a sacrificial posture as the bellowing mob raced up the aisle and towards the outside. Groceries and items were knocked haphazardly from their shelves as the mindless crowd stampeded forward, leaving smashed jars and flattened boxes in their wake.

“No!” David called out, he moved to stop them, but Ollie and Ambrose still held him back. “Let me go! We have to stop them!”

“No, David…” came Ollie’s voice. It was tired and defeated, but it still carried a sense of finality. 

“We need you, David. Billy needs you. Goddamit, they’ll throw you out there too if you try to stop them…”

David still struggled, and it was only when he saw Billy’s frightened and tear-stained face that he reluctantly stopped trying to reach Jessup. Instead, David fell to his knees and pulled Billy close, wrapping him in a hug and doing everything he could to ignore Jessup’s screams as they grew more distant.

He looked up to see that Jessup was halfway out of the door. The wounded private had still enough fight to grab onto the door frame before he was completely thrown out, but his struggles were in vain as multiple hands reached out and tore his fingers away from the frame.

Once outside completely, the mob threw him onto the asphalt of the parking lot, and Jessup weakly cried out as he landed hard on his side, his hands clutching his stomach as blood still oozed from his wounds.

The doors were closed once more, and the lock bolts were thrown before Jessup could even struggle to his feet. Shakily, Jessup rose and stumbled back to the door, taking one hand from his stomach and pounding on the glass, begging to be let in by anyone who would listen. Jim’s hard glare stared back at him from the other side, and David could only watch as Jessup continued to pound against the door, his bloody hand smearing the glass.

There was a noise, something akin to a dull roar, and Jessup’s struggles immediately ceased as he slowly turned to gaze out into the Mist. The noise had been muffled slightly from the doors, but it had still been loud enough that everyone inside the store had heard it. Whatever had made the noise, it had been large. And in that next moment, David was glad that he was holding Billy’s head to his chest, for a vile shape loomed and took form outside. Hunched over and walking on four insect-like appendages, the thing looked to be a cross between a crab and a praying mantis, its nightmarish form only accentuated by its hulking size.

It could smell Jessup’s blood on the pavement and on his clothes, and as the creature drew closer, Jessup slowly turned and pressed a bloody palm onto the door in one last attempt to appeal to the forsaken humanity on the other side.

“Please…”

A claw the length of a tree reached for him, but it never landed.

Instead, a burst of fire and flame erupted against the monster’s bulk, the force of the sound rattling the windows and causing everyone in the store to flinch. Outside, Jessup whirled around and fell to the asphalt in shock, landing in a sitting position with his back propped up against the glass.

The creature itself recovered and turned towards where the explosion had come from, and David saw a small ball of light emerge from somewhere in the Mist and fly straight into the lovecraftian terror, leaving a trail of blackened exhaust in the air as it passed through. When it landed, the ball of light gave off a second explosion, and the monster recoiled and staggered backward.

The crowd screamed and yelled in confusion of what they saw, and then everyone jumped as three more balls of light appeared in rapid succession, following each other like train cars as they homed in on the monster and detonated just like the ones before.

The combined power of the three rapid explosions overwhelmed the monster, and it listed to the side before tumbling down into the parking lot with a loud crash, flattening at least five cars with the size of its now dead body. The silhouette twitched a few times, then fell still.

An awed silence fell over the store, and David heard nothing save for the ringing in his own ears. All eyes searched the Mist fervently for any sign as to the source of the projectiles, and after a moment, a smaller, more humanoid shape emerged. David squinted for a few moments as the Mist obscured much of the strange form, then his eyes widened as the figure revealed itself to be a figure dressed entirely in some sort of green spacesuit. A large weapon was held easily in its hands, and though David was no expert, he deemed the weapon to be some sort of rocket-launcher, as it had a large opening in the back to vent the exhaust generated by the missiles.

The figure spared the now lifeless monster a look, then approached the store, the rocket launcher somehow disappearing from its grip. It stopped once it was within a few feet of the doors, its helmeted gaze looking down at Jessup’s slumped form on the pavement. The soldier was barely conscious now thanks to his blood loss, and his chest rose and fell with shaky breaths as he looked back up at the armored figure with hazy eyes.

The spaceman looked from Jessup to the astonished crowd watching him from the windows, and then seemed to grow incredibly angry. His tilted head and clenched fists betrayed that his anger was likely directed at the occupants in the store, and David lost sight of the figure for a second as it knelt down next to Jessup. The crowd murmured and craned their necks to see what he was doing, and David could see looks of confusion and awe on their faces. Even Mrs. Carmody looked frightened, as even she did not have an explanation for what it was they were currently seeing.

The figure rose back to full height a few moments later, carrying a now unconscious Jessup underneath one of his arms. He did not seem to slump with the weight at all, in fact, it seemed that carrying the soldier was more of an annoyance than an actual physical effort.

The stranger stepped forward and glared through the glass at Jim, who stood on the other side. It was obvious to everyone present that the figure wanted him to open the door, but Jim stood frozen in place. Initially it might have been from shock and awe, but Jim then set his jaw and crossed his arms, now actively declining to comply with the stranger’s silent request.

This served only to anger the figure further, and before David’s eyes, the spaceman grabbed the metal frame of the door with his free hand and ripped it off its hinges entirely. Glass shattered and metal screeched as the door immediately bowed to the inhuman display of strength, and much of the metal framing around the door was shorn away as well, leaving behind a warped hole of what jagged and twisted metal remained.

Through his newly crafted entryway, the armored figure stepped through, grabbing Jim by the front of his shirt and quite literally throwing him out of the way as he entered the store. Heavy footfalls echoed loudly throughout the store as he marched in, and though he had not spoken, David could feel his anger at the humans inside. It was as though he could smell the rotten stench of their frenzied mob mentality, and David saw him shake his head before the helmeted gaze turned to him and his group, who were all still gathered a short distance away from the main mob.

The stranger seemed to come to a decision, and as he marched toward them, a polite and robotic voice spoke out from somewhere on his armor, its cordial tone completely at odds with the enraged tone conveyed by his body language.

“I would ask that everyone please retreat to the rear of the building and away from the windows. Masking your scent decreases the chance of drawing more creatures to this location.”

The words were kind and polite, but no one moved as the figure deposited Jessup’s form on the linoleum next to David and the others. Ollie immediately rushed forward to try and tend to the private’s knife wounds, and David glanced over as the former clerk pulled open the blood-soaked fabric of the uniform, only to frown in confusion a moment later when he saw that all of Jessup’s wounds were gone. There were no signs of a stabbing in his stomach. In fact, there didn’t appear to be any sign of struggle or violence on the kid’s body at all save for the stains on his uniform.

David shared a bewildered glance with Ollie, then frowned up at the stranger. The armored human gave no elaboration, however, and instead turned towards the meat department at the end of the aisle. There was a loud noise as the figure wrenched the door to the freezer open, and after rummaging around for a few moments, the armored man reemerged, and slung over his shoulder was a massive side of beef, nearly half a cow, in fact.

David guessed that it was from the meat shipment that must have arrived the night before, and Mr. McVey had not yet been given the chance to butcher it properly. Now, the figure held it easily over his shoulder as he marched back forward to the front of the store, pausing only to snatch a 3-gallon container of lighter fluid from one of the shelves as well.

As he returned to the front of the store, the polite voice spoke once again.

“I must insist that everyone please stand away from the windows. We cannot guarantee your safety if you do not.”

“And just what are you supposed to be?” Mrs. Carmody said, finding her voice at last. “Are you the ‘gracious hero’ sent by the military to ‘save the day’? Are you holding out some hope that fighting fruitlessly against the creatures of the Pit will absolve you of your crimes in bringing them down upon us?”

The crowd stirred, finding some sense of lunatic normalcy in Mrs. Carmody’s accusations.

“Yeah!” someone jeered from the crowd. “This is your fault in the first place! Meddling with God’s creation! You brought down His wrath!”

“My initial observations give no indication that the creatures and meteorological phenomena that exist in this world are the result of divine intervention. It has been our experience that dimensional anomalies such as these are more likely caused by rudimentary attempts at interdimensional travel.”

“See?! Do you all see?!” Mrs. Carmody shrieked, riling the crowd up once again. “Denial! Denial of His wrath! Denial of guilt! He claims to have come to ‘guarantee our safety’, but he has already forgotten that it was he who placed us all on the path to damnation in the first place!”

The crowd jeered and screamed at the armored man, and David watched apprehensively.

“Your hubris will be the undoing of us all! To be so deluded that you think you can withstand Judgment and emerge unscathed. You are nothing! Nothing but a usurper! A false idol! ”

That last statement seemed to resonate within the armored man, and before the crowd could jeer anymore, the stranger loudly dropped the meat he was carrying and reached out to the side with his gauntlet. A sudden blue light burst from the gauntlet itself with a loud crack, and David stared incredulously as the light took on a rope-like shape, arcing through the air and into the aisle adjacent to the one he and his group were occupying. The sight and sound of the light-rope itself was enough to startle Mrs. Carmody and her followers into silence once more, and a few of the closer bystanders took an apprehensive step back in response.

The rope of blue light suddenly went taught as it latched onto something within the aisle, and with a simple flick of his wrist, the stranger retracted the light back into the gauntlet before catching a small object that was connected to the other end.

As the figure brought the object to bear, David frowned when he saw that the object appeared to be a premade tube of cake frosting, one that already came with its own narrow tip at the end so that the user could draw details and write words on their own perspective cakes. What the figure could want with something like that at a time like this, David could only guess.

Stepping forward dangerously, the stranger closed the distance between himself and Mrs. Carmody, who still stared back at him in a stunned silence in response to the blue rope of light that had been summoned and dissipated in less than half a second.

Before Mrs. Carmody could regain her wits, the stranger brought the frosting tube to her forehead and expertly spelled out three distinct characters on the exposed skin, dark brown frosting flowing easily from the tube and sticking to where the stranger drew the tip across her face.

Once he had finished, the stranger let the tube of frosting fall to the floor, and David could have sworn that he detected the slightest twinge of…humor?… maybe? ... as the figure hefted the side of beef once again and stepped out of the hole in the front door he had made and out into the Mist.

David watched him go, then turned his head back to Mrs. Carmody’s group as one of the older women let out an audible gasp and stepped backward from their leader, her gaze suddenly fearful as she stared at the three characters on Mrs. Carmody’s forehead.

A frightened scream was let out as more and more survivors read the characters, and Mrs. Carmody herself looked fearfully back and forth among her once loyal followers.

“What?!” she demanded. “What does it say?”

No one answered her, and David, despite everything, held back a small chuckle as he read the characters in their dark brown font for the first time.

“Oh God in Heaven, save us!” Jim cried out from where he had shakily risen after being tossed aside by the stranger. He fell back to his knees and clasped his hands together in fervent prayer as if to ward off the symbols he saw on Mrs. Carmody’s face.

“What?! Tell me what it fucking says!!” Mrs. Carmody said, her panic giving way to anger as no one volunteered to tell her what they saw. Despite it all, none of her devout followers dared answer as though it were a curse to speak of what they saw before them.

Looking around wildly, Mrs. Carmody finally turned toward the glass windows that made up the front of the store and strode forward hastily.

Moving so that her nose was mere inches from the glass, the pious woman squinted to make out the characters, and David watched with humor of his own when her eyes widened and her lips began to tremble as she read the characters out loud.

“...S-six…”

…six…”

“...SIX…”

Mrs. Carmody let out a blood-curdling shriek and recoiled as though she’d been stabbed, her hands jumping up to her forehead but halting a few inches from where the three “6s” had been drawn, as though actually touching the frosting would somehow cause her to disintegrate.

“He’s…he’s the antichrist!” she sputtered, more or less just screaming in fear now instead of preaching. Her fanatic followers panicked even more at seeing her falter, and shouts of despair and horror filled the store as they all began to shuffle around like chickens with their heads cut off.

In the back of his mind, David felt like the stranger had known that something like this would’ve happened when he’d drawn the numbers on her forehead in the first place, and David also felt the sneaking suspicion that he’d done it for the sole purpose of causing Mrs. Carmody and her followers to chaotically lose their minds even more so than they’d already had. He’d likely known that attempting to convince the old bat that he was there to help them would undoubtedly fail, so he had decided to at least get a laugh out of her zealotry by doubling down on her accusations.

Needless to say, it worked. The results were speaking, or in this case screaming, for themselves.

One man screamed and pointed to where the armored man had dropped the tube of cake frosting he’d used to draw on Mrs. Carmody’s face, and terrified shouting started anew as he read the words: “Devil’s Chocolate Icing” on the side.

Mrs. Carmody then fainted, as did a few other of her followers, then the rest fell silent as well as another loud bang was heard from the Mist outside.

…

Utilizing the sensors within the Praetor Suit, VEGA continued his examination of the strange fog to the best of his ability. While the range of data he could compile from the relatively rudimentary sensors was not by any means ideal, VEGA was still able to draw a few distinct general conclusions about the Mist itself.

Firstly, sound seemed to be remarkably dampened by the fog, which in turn led VEGA to understand that the Mist was constituted of more than just suspended water particles in the air, and that some other compound, one that was not an ideal medium for sound waves, was also present.

This observation was further validated by the acknowledgement that fumes and scents propagated at a far greater rate within the fog, meaning that one’s sense of smell was drastically heightened when enshrouded within the Mist. Examination of a few of the creatures the Slayer had terminated showed that their olfactory organs were also highly developed, allowing them to detect the scent of even the smallest of prey from miles away.

Whether the properties that dampened sound and the properties that increased scent were one in the same remained yet to be seen, and had VEGA more time and a greater array of data at his disposal, he undoubtedly would have discovered the truth within a few hours, but he unfortunately had neither of those, so he would have to make do with what information he had.

Unlike him, however, the Doom Slayer seemed more than satisfied with what little they had discovered about the nature of the Mist, as he had already put the information to more practical use by way of the half cow carcass that he had carried out into the middle of the street.

One final property that VEGA had discerned about the Mist was that it was rapidly expanding, and that a single point of origin existed within the mountains beyond. The A.I. had effortlessly pinpointed the location within a meter or so of tolerance, but before he and the Slayer could endeavor to investigate, they would need to ensure the survival of the humans sheltered inside the supermarket. To do so meant that all life forms originating from the Mist in the immediate area would need to be terminated, and thanks to the data VEGA had already collected, the Slayer had developed an efficient method of luring them in.

Depositing the half-frozen cow carcass in the middle of the intersection that the supermarket was around, the Slayer wasted no time ripping the top off the large bottle of lighter fluid and dousing the meat with its contents. Once it was empty, the Slayer discarded the metal container and ignited the mixture with a single round from his plasma rifle, the fuel-soaked meat immediately thawing and charring with the heat from the resulting blaze.

As the Slayer had planned, the strong smell of burning meat immediately bloomed from the center of the road, and the Mist rapidly propagated the smell outward in every direction, covering an exceptionally large cloud throughout the town that smelled like cooking beef.

The response was almost immediate, and the Praetor Suit’s systems detected movement and heat signatures all around them as predators from another world gathered for what they thought would be a feast, though what followed was certain to be nothing other than a slaughter.

…

The hound snarled as it ripped a large chunk of scaly skin from the monster’s body, eliciting a pained and indignant hiss from the reptilian creature as it recoiled and attempted to retaliate with a bite of its own. Its large jaw clamped shut on nothing but air, however, as the hound had seen the move coming and sprang away to separate itself. It landed a few feet away and squared itself off against the creature once more, and for a moment neither of them moved, a brief pause falling over their battle as they growled and hissed at each other with animosity.

The reptile was still fighting strong, though the hound could tell that its stamina had been drained by a considerable amount. Several glancing blows showed on the creature’s form, but only a few of its wounds could be considered serious. The monster’s speed had been impressive despite the hound’s preparedness for it, and despite the fact that the alpha was definitely winning the battle, it was not without considerable effort. The hound itself had only sustained a few minor cuts on its hide from the creature’s claws, and though it had refused to utilize teleportation during the battle in order to heighten the challenge, it had needed to resort to it once in order to dodge what could have been a distinct blow from the reptile’s razor sharp bite.

As it turned out, the creature itself had been smarter than the hound had given it credit for, and it had waited until a few minutes into the battle that it had spewed a highly corrosive acid from its mouth in an attempt to melt the hellhound into a puddle. Thankfully, the alpha had seen the move coming, as the creature’s already bulbous lower jaw had bulged considerably more right before spewing the acid, which had given the alpha the heads up it needed to avoid the spray. Seeing the hound completely avoid one of the tricks it had saved up had caused the creature to pause in shock, which had given the hound all the time it had needed to headbutt the creature’s jaw closed upon its own tongue, which had been protruding from its mouth in order to effectively spew the acid.

The tongue had been sliced completely off by its owner’s own razor-sharp teeth, and as the reptile bellowed and coughed on the blood that immediately flooded its mouth, the hound devoured the tongue easily, the small amounts of residual acid only slightly burning its mouth for a few moments before being evaporated by the hound’s internal hellfire.

Seeing its tongue being eaten by its opponent had served only to infuriate the monster further, as the hound had intended, and now a dirty red mixture of blood and acid dripped from its mouth and onto the forest floor, dissolving any leaves and twigs that happened to be underneath.

The hound’s attention was momentarily diverted as it caught the faint whiff of meat burning in the air. The scent was strong, but it was still remarkably minuscule among the other smells that filled the hound’s nostrils at the moment, meaning that it was quite a distance away, but the hound surmised the Slayer to be the likely culprit behind the sound. The hound acknowledged the scent then returned its full attention back to its foe, who did not seem to notice the scent at all.

Determined not to give the creature any further respite, the hound lunged once again, this time searching for an opening that it could take to strike the killing blow.

…

Darkened blood sprayed onto the street as dual chainsaw blades severed a large tentacle from its main body. The pack-a-punched lancer’s mechanical roar drowned out the squealing from the creature at the other end as the Slayer immediately turned and fired upon the horde of spiders that had been drawn from the pharmacy adjacent to the store. The arachnids exploded into fragments and red clouds of blood as a hail of high-pitched gunfire tore through them, their large constitutions still less than a match for the enhanced rounds.

The spiders had been dead for less than a few seconds before the Slayer drew his combat shotgun and opened fire into the air above, the wide-spread of buckshot proving to be an efficient choice against the swarm of pterodactyl-like monstrosities that circled above. By twos and threes they began to drop, the air so thick with them that each blast from the shotgun struck multiple at once. A few fell directly onto the now blazing pile of meat that burned in the middle of the street, their lithe forms immediately charring and only adding to the increasingly intense scent that permeated from the flames.

The Slayer’s plan had worked perfectly, and now creatures from the Mist were appearing in droves to get at the de facto barbecue that the Doom Slayer had started. None had a chance to feast, however, as they began to foolishly target the Slayer as soon as they saw him, thinking that his fresh meat would be far more preferable to the dead cooked meat on the pile. They would never get the chance to find out.

As the severed nub of the tentacle the Slayer had cut retreated, another tentacle of equal size emerged from the Mist and started toward him. The Slayer, growing increasingly agitated that the creature had yet to emerge completely, activated his instinct leash and latched onto the tentacle as close to the base of it as he could reach. The Slayer heaved as the leash connected, but in a rare event of miscalculation, the fortitude of the tentacle failed to withstand the combined force of the Slayer’s pull and the creature’s apparently monumental inertia, and with a wet ripping noise, the tentacle tore in two where the leash had latched on, pulling nearly six meters worth of the appendage free of its base and towards the Slayer while the other half snapped back into the shadows.

Furious, the Slayer made use of the still flopping appendage by altering its trajectory as it flew towards him. Raising it up by a few meters, the tentacle sailed over his head by less than a foot and through the middle of the blazing pile of carrion in the middle of the street. The thick slime coating the tentacle was apparently flammable, and it ignited almost immediately as its form passed through the center of the inferno. With the mass and size of a large tree, the flaming tentacle emerged from the other side of the conflagration at high speed, crashing into an oncoming swarm of carnivorous flying insects on the other side. The momentum of the large appendage knocked the swarm in disarray while outright crushing those unfortunate enough to be in its path, and the Doom Slayer capitalized on their momentary discombobulation by lobbing a grenade into the air and into the center of their broken formation.

The well-timed detonation sent insect innards flying in every direction, splattering the pavement further with more evidence of the Slayer’s massacre. The dull yellow pus that erupted from the insects stood out in contrast to the darkened blood that coated the concrete in a thick base, creating a mosaic of slaughter that an artist with a twisted sense of humor might have found beautiful.

The Slayer paid no attention to the imagery he was leaving behind on the canvas that was the street, however, as the previously distant owner of the tentacles he had severed so far chose that moment to confront him fully. Shuffling from the shadows in an ever-writhing mass of slithering appendages, the Slayer noted that its main body lacked much in the way of a rigid form, instead consisting of a large amorphous pile of flesh that served as an origin for its nearly countless limbs. The mountain of flesh had emerged from behind the supermarket itself, and cars were easily pushed and scraped aside as the gargantuan form shuffled closer to the Doom Slayer. A pair of eyes the size of manhole covers stared unblinkingly at the Slayer as it drew even closer, and he could see his own form reflected in the inky pupils, the light of the blaze behind him casting him as a dark shadow that stood prominently against the Mist.

Eyes of that size would have stricken any of the humans inside the store with unequivocal terror, but to the Slayer, they were nothing more than weak points, and their size only meant they were easier to target.

In a flash, the Slayer activated the leash again and thrust his arm towards the tentacled monster, his aim locked dead center into the creature’s left eye. Instead of arcing through the air and latching onto the sensitive organ, however, the instinct leash weakly flashed for a few moments before sputtering out, hardly making it a quarter of the distance to its intended target before it died completely.

“It would seem that the instinct leash is ill-equipped to interface with increased mental facilities such as yours,” VEGA said, immediately running diagnostics on the device as it flickered and sparked on the Slayer’s wrist.

“It is my recommendation that you limit its use until we are able to reinforce its internal components, as continued undue strain has the potential to cause irreparable damage to the device.”

The Slayer’s tactical mind immediately shifted to accommodate this new information, albeit annoyedly, as he had been warming up to the leash and its ability to amplify his capacity to rip and tear through his enemies. But it was of little consequence in the end, as all it truly meant was that he would have to utilize his more tried and true methods of achieving his goals.

The gauss cannon appeared in his hands in the next moment, and before the tentacled monster could grab for him with one of its countless limbs, a super-accelerated flechette of reinforced steel pierced its left eye and into its center mass. The lack of a more rigid body resulted in very little resistance to the projectile as it carved through its body, and with plenty of momentum to spare, the rod of metal emerged from the other side of the monster’s body and continued on, burying itself 100 meters away in the chest of a large beetle-like creature that had also been advancing towards the Slayer. The decay imparted from the rod turned the enormous insect’s heart to ash in the span of a few seconds, and the creature seized wildly as its body underwent extreme cardiac arrest. Its rapidly flailing limbs slowed and then eventually went limp after a few seconds however, and the insect died without ever even laying eyes on its killer.

Back at the blazing intersection, the tentacled monster screeched loudly and recoiled. Dozens of tentacles retracting towards the rapidly-expanding hole that was its left eye. Its soft and squishy flesh that had done little against the gauss cannon’s ammunition was now doing even less against the decay that followed, and the Slayer could easily see daylight poking through the other side of its body as the decay continued to spread. The monster however, was hardly finished yet, as its lack of a centralized nervous system meant that despite the massive hole in its main mass, it was still very much alive. And it was now seethingly angry.

Roughly a dozen tentacles lashed out in a rapid blur to impart its pain back onto the Slayer, who reacted equally as fast with another well-placed shot from the gauss cannon. This time, the shot pierced through three of the tentacles at once, severing them from the creature and imparting further decay onto it. The remaining tentacles continued their advance, and the Slayer drew his lancer once more as they closed in.

…

David had stared with his mouth agape when the large tentacled mass had shuffled past the window of the store. Even from the back of the building, he had still caught a glimpse of the goliath as it had gone by, moving towards the faint glow of a fire that they could just barely make out through the thick fog. Many others had seen it as well. And even those who hadn’t seen it had heard it at least, as the sound was like that of skin being dragged across the asphalt, only many times magnified, as though whatever was moving outside had enough skin to cover an elephant…or maybe three.

Everyone had heeded the armored man’s advice and had taken shelter away from the windows, and even Mrs. Carmody’s group had eventually yielded once they began to hear shooting and the sounds of carnage just outside their vision. Mrs. Carmody herself had taken to mumbling continuous and repeated prayers from where she knelt next to some of her most devout followers, Jim being one of them.

“...it will not come unless the apostasy comes first,” she recited. “...and the man of lawlessness is revealed.”

The last of her sanity had all but abandoned her, and though she was far more gone than she had been, David noticed with a bittersweet feeling that she was not as aggressive and vocal as she had been before. Her subdued nature had spread also to her followers, and despite the screams and roars of the creatures just outside those doors, David felt incrementally more safe than he had been before.

“...and on the wing of abominations will come one who makes desolate, even until a complete destruction, one that is decreed, is poured out on the one who makes desolate…”

“Oh, give it a rest already!” Irene said at last, the older woman’s patience with Mrs. Carmody finally reaching its limit. “As if what’s going on outside isn’t enough to scare the children half to death, your incessant rambling is certainly not helping.”

“They should be scared,” Mrs. Carmody deadpanned, her voice devoid of any emotion at all, as though she'd lost all of the piousness she’d previously held. “The unmaker has already come upon us, and there is nothing that can stop what happens next.”

“You honestly believe that man is some sort of antichrist just because he put frosting on your forehead?” Irene scolded. “He did that just to shut you up. Hell, if I’d known that would work, I’d have painted your forehead myself almost two days ago when you started spouting all this nonsense! He’s just a soldier from the base, dressed in one of those combat suits that you see on TV all the time.”

Mrs. Carmody scoffed.

“You think I’m being delusional, you old bitch? No mere ‘soldier’ possesses the strength that he does. He has pulled the wool over all of your eyes with his promises and pride.”

A bit of bite had found its way back into Mrs. Carmody’s voice, but this did not deter Irene at all.

“So what exactly was your plan then, O’ divine preacher? Were you just going to denounce anyone that comes to our rescue as some kind of deceiver? Were you hoping we wouldn’t get rescued at all so that you can keep spouting your crap to these people?”

“...and the whole earth was amazed and followed after the beast; they worshiped the dragon because he gave his authority to the beast; and they worshiped the beast, saying, ‘Who is like the beast, and who is able to wage war with him?’”

Irene looked as though she was about to retort to Mrs. Carmody’s recitation, but David cleared his throat to stop her. It was obvious that Mrs. Carmody was past reasoning at this point, and all Irene was going to do by arguing with her was make things worse. With any luck, the armored man outside held their best interests at heart, which certainly seemed to be the case if the dying cries of the monstrosities outside were any indication of his motives. David just hoped that he could find a way home soon to Stephanie. And that maybe, the armored stranger, or at least someone like him, was helping her as well.

…

The reptilian creature had stopped moving a few seconds ago, but the hound watched it even still, watching for the subtle rise and fall that would tell if it was still breathing. When the monster still failed to move, only then did the hound look away, inhaling deep the now very strong scent of burning flesh. It had grown steadily more apparent as the brawl had drawn to a close, but by that time, the victor was all but decided. In the end, the stamina of the reptile had run out, and its speed had dropped drastically enough for the alpha to dig its claws and fangs deep under its skin. It had died via blood loss from its more serious wounds, and the hound celebrated its victory with a deep howl as it considered its next move.

The burning scent was now undoubtedly the work of the Slayer, and the hound, despite its orders, felt an overwhelming desire to join him in his bountiful hunt. It toyed with the decision for a few moments more, then made up its mind.

With a flash of lightning, the hound warped back down into the basement of the house once more, startling the human female once again and causing her to unconsciously jump away from where it had appeared.

When she recognized the hound, she slowly relaxed once more, though the alpha was indifferent to her body language at the moment, and it squinted as it inspected her for any sign of wounds or sickness. Finding none, the hound then trotted up the stairs to the door leading out of the basement, ensuring that it was locked by pressing the button firmly into the handle with its snout before returning to the bottom of the steps.

It examined the human one last time to make absolutely sure that she was fine, and she frowned in confusion at its sudden interest in her before self-consciously looking down at herself to see if she could see anything wrong.

Once it was assured that she was okay, the hound gave the human a small grunt of finality, and before she had the chance to decipher its meaning, the canine warped out of the basement and towards the scent of the Slayer’s wrath. The distance was great enough that it took two jumps through subspace to reach him, and the hound emerged at his location slightly winded with the effort of warping such a distance in such a short amount of time.

The sight that greeted it was typical of the Doom Slayer, as he was currently embattled with some sort of gigantic tentacle monster while simultaneously picking off a rapidly growing horde of lesser creatures of the Mist. As usual, he was in control of the situation, but the hound could see that the large tentacled monster was drawing a large amount of his attention, as despite the numerous wounds he had inflicted upon it, it was still alive and actively attacking him.

Despite that, the hound knew that the battle between them could not have been going on for very long, as the Slayer had not yet utilized some of his arsenal that would be far more effective against the monstrosity. The only reason for that being that he simply hadn’t switched to them yet.

Deciding to prove that it was far more useful here than guarding a single human that was under no threat at the moment, the hound took notice of one of the creature’s severed tentacles that had fallen into the blaze that now dominated the street. The slimy substance that coated the appendage appeared to burn easily, and after taking note that the creature had a considerably-sized hole in its body where its left eye should have been, the hound wasted no time springing into action.

Forgoing teleportation in favor of showmanship, the alpha sprinted forward, ignoring the look the Slayer gave it as it ran directly between him and the monster, blocking his firing line just as he was drawing another weapon. The tentacled creature itself just barely tracked the hound with its good eye as it blurred closer, but its reaction time was not nearly sufficient enough as the hound wove through its mass of tentacles and dove forward directly into the hole that was once its left eye socket. There was just barely enough room for the hound to fit, but that suited the alpha well for what came next. As soon as it had fully entered the eye hole, the hound gave a great roar of effort and willed its hell-hide to alight to its maximum. Flames immediately filled the limited space around it that constituted the creature’s central body, then jetted outward from both openings, engulfing the monster’s entire body in hellfire in a matter of seconds, as hellfire burned far more strongly and at much greater temperatures than any standard blaze of the mortal plane.

The creature let out a blood-curdling screech and writhed around madly as it tried to reach for the hound with its burning tentacles, but the hound refused to warp away and willed its hide to burn brighter, searing away the meat closest to it completely. The creature’s remaining eye glowed brightly for the briefest of moments before burning away as well, and the supernatural inferno sprouted from the empty socket and jetted into the sky.

…

David and everyone else stared as the faint glow they had been seeing since the armored man had left suddenly grew exponentially. Even from the back of the store did the light shine brightly, burning away the Mist completely and revealing a horrible nightmare of a beast. The clear sight of tentacled monster may have once struck David cold with fear, but seeing it wreathed in a nearly white hot conflagration left him only struck with awe. He turned his head away as it began to glow too brightly to stare at, but he could still feel the slight heat coming through the glass and the open entryway the armored man had created earlier. A high-pitched hum obstructed all other sound, and David pulled Billy close and held him tight despite his lack of fear. Nothing about that fire was normal, but somehow, David knew that it was not meant for him.

…

The hound gave one final push, then finally unclenched, letting its flames die back down to their normal intensity before tiredly warping out of the monster’s now barely twitching form and in front of the Doom Slayer. To teleport even a few feet was difficult now, and the alpha growled with the strain as it looked up to meet the Slayer’s gaze, its sides heaving with the effort of what it had just done. It had never strained itself like that before, but it had not done so without reason.

Though it knew that the Slayer did not regard it as weak by any means, it had still felt insulted by his order to remain behind to guard the human female. Such tasking was not why the alpha had chosen to remain with him, and though it knew that the Doom Slayer had not commanded the hound for no reason at all, the hound needed him to know that it would not take such orders, and that if it was to stay, then it would not be used as some guard dog that looked after lost humans while the Slayer participated in the hunt alone. The promise of challenging prey was the sole reason it had decided to join him at all, and though it would always respect and revere the Doom Slayer for sparing its life, its gratitude had its limits. It would certainly go out of its way to save those in need, but its true purpose did not lie in the rescue of others.

If it could not hunt, then it would have been better for the Slayer to kill it in those woods when he’d freed it from the control of the dark aether.

It met his hard gaze with resolution, and it growled once more and planted its feet firmly despite its exhaustion. It had made its point, of that, there was no doubt. Now, it was up to the Doom Slayer to decide how to respond.

For a long moment, the two of them stared at each other, the moment tense despite the cries of dying prey all around them. Then the Slayer relaxed his posture, his body language showing that he accepted the terms that the hound had wordlessly laid out. Only then did the alpha relax its shoulders as well and show how tired it was, though the Slayer had likely already known how hard it had just pushed itself.

Looking around and giving the air an experimental sniff told the hound that while it had been making its argument via frying the tentacled monstrosity from the inside, the Doom Slayer had taken the opportunity to kill any remaining creatures of the Mist. There was now no scent of a living being for miles around save for the frightened humans inside the glass-fronted building just a few meters away, and the hound approached the still-burning pile of corpses that littered the street, taking the opportunity to replenish its depleted energy by feasting on some of the more well-done pieces of meat. The Doom Slayer took his time to examine the corpses as well, likely both for his own benefit and for the benefit of the voice in his armor, then turned toward the hound once more after some time had passed.

The hound had expected this request to come, but the Slayer had waited until it had regained some of its strength. He wanted the hound to retrieve the human female and bring her to the others, and though the hound understood the nature of the request, it still tilted its head in a questioning manner, wanting assurance that if it fulfilled the request, the Slayer would not depart on another hunt until it returned.

It was reassured with a nod, and after taking another minute to stretch its aching form, the hound warped back to where it had left the human female, this time warping outside the door to the basement and giving a few taps with its paw so as not to startle her as much.

When it did not hear any movement for a few moments, the hound gave a non-threatening bark to confirm its identity, and only then did the female tentatively climb the stairs and open the door. At first, she’d only opened the door just wide enough to confirm that it was the hound on the other side, then she’d slowly opened it all the way before looking down at the awaiting canine.

With a brief shake of its fur, the hound diminished its flames and stretched its neck out expectantly, gesturing to the human that it wanted her to grab hold. She frowned her eyes in confusion, and after a few moments, the hound impatiently nudged its head under her hand to clarify what it wanted her to do. The human seemed to finally understand, and she cautiously but firmly placed her hand on top of the hound’s head, and after making sure she had a firm grasp, the hound summoned the teleportational lightning and warped back towards the Slayer’s location.

Like before, the distance required two separate jumps, and when they’d emerged in front of the building, the female doubled over and retched onto the asphalt of the parking lot, her body unused to making not just one but two jumps in rapid succession.

The voice inside the Slayer’s suit addressed her once she recovered, seemingly directing her inside the store and towards the others of her kind. The woman gave an apprehensive look towards the store, then nodded and gave what the hound guessed to be an awkward verbal thanks to the Slayer and it before hastening towards the broken doors and out of the Mist.

Once she disappeared safely inside, the Slayer turned towards the hound again, though this time, it was to gauge its readiness rather than request that it stay behind. The hound’s fur eagerly alighted despite its remaining weariness, and it gave an affirmative bark to signal that it was prepared to hunt once again.

With that, the Slayer turned and started toward the mountains in the distance, likely towards a destination that perhaps led to the source of the creatures of the Mist, the alpha hellhound immediately warping ahead and sniffing for any prey that yet lurked along their path.

…

Despite everything David had seen over the last three days, somehow it was this moment that seemed the least believable of it all.

Yesterday, the gunfire and inferno that had gone on just outside the store had eventually died down, and shortly afterward, the armored man disappeared without a trace. But he had not left without leaving one thing behind, however, and that came in the form of a single human that had apprehensively walked through the broken entryway to the store that the armored man had made.

Stephanie.

When David had first seen her, he had been so certain that he had died, that the massive inferno that had been so bright and hot only fifteen minutes before had killed him and he was now seeing her visage before he passed on. But when she had burst into tears and choked out his name upon seeing him too, he decided that he didn’t care if he was dead, and he’d scooped Billy up into his arms and carried him all the way to her, wrapping his arms around them both as tightly as he could and refusing to let go.

They were together again, and all David cared about was that. The Mist didn’t matter anymore. For how long the three of them held each other, David did not know, and the only reason that they had eventually separated was to investigate the sudden changes they had seen outside. Everyone in the store tentatively moved forward to investigate the first disturbance they’d seen since the armored man disappeared into the Mist, and to their disbelief, the veil seemed to be lifting.

It had been slow at first, but eventually there was no denying it. The sky was getting brighter. Visibility was getting further. And the fog, well, the fog was getting thinner.

And then, all at once, it had broken completely, and everyone within the store had squinted and shielded their eyes as the brilliance of the sun shined once more through the windows. Not a cloud could be seen in the strikingly blue sky, and for a moment, the world held the illusion that the Mist had never fallen upon it

But, with their newfound sight, all eyes then turned to the parking lot and the street, and that illusion was distinctly shattered.

The most prominent thing above all else was the corpses, both in appearance and in number. Despite some of the bodies being easily distuinguishable as hellacious creatures birthed from the unnatural fog, most were nigh unrecognizable, their carrion being desecrated to a degree that it was difficult to tell what kind of monster it had been before. Bones had been snapped or ground into the pavement, muscles had been crudely severed and mashed into paste, but most of all, entire scores of the creatures had been burned entirely to a crisp. A severely scorched mound of carrion was visible in the middle of the intersection, and it was that which eventually drew everyone’s gaze to it as the first of them cautiously excited the store and stepped out into the parking lot.

The size…the smell…everything about the mound of fried corpses screamed of spite, and the once blood and innard-soaked asphalt around it now sported a stark black layer of soot and ash. It was as though the flames of hell itself had congregated upon the pile, delivering a blaze of hatred and passionate deliverance that ensured that none that encountered it could even remotely be considered once alive.

A few meters away from the mound, David saw what he guessed to be the remnants of the large tentacled creature that had slithered past the store what now seemed a lifetime ago. What little structure remained of the body and limbs were coated in a dark-gray skin of ash, and as they all walked among the scene, one of the more curious survivors reached out to touch one of the shriveled and ash-borne tentacles.

As soon as their fingers brushed against the sooty surface, however, the entire tentacle crumbled, revealing that the entirety of the creature was now composed of only cold cinders. Its entire body had burned so quickly and so intensely that the remains did not have time to be carried away by the smoke. And so here it was, the only sign that such a creature had ever existed.

Before long, the once familiar but now alien sound of approaching vehicles reached their ears, and looking down the street showed armored military vehicles approaching, vehicles that they would soon find to contain supplies and soldiers and medicines and help. It was like the Army had finally been able to mobilize and react against the Mist, though albeit long after the fog and its denizens were gone.

In the back of his mind, David somehow knew, despite the soldiers not telling him anything about what had happened or what had driven the Mist away, that the armored man had been behind this. That he, whatever he was, whether the coming of the antichrist or some lone hero playing dress up, had done something that had led to the return of the sun and the sky.

And now, sitting here in a high school gym that had been turned into a shelter for those that had survived and been displaced by the Mist, David pensively considered what the armored stranger had done to bring back the world he once knew.

No…that was wrong. The world he once knew was gone. It was gone and there was no way to bring it back. The damage had already been done.

No matter how much people would try to forget and try to explain away and cover up what had happened, the fact would always remain that something… else was out there. More than what they just see with their own eyes, and certainly more than what they could see with their telescopes and other instruments of science.

That something, that mere confirmation of the fact that there was more , changed the very definition of reality. And it was driven home by the fact that what was out there had the capacity to wipe out humanity as they knew it. The Mist had done nearly that, as David later learned that the ever present fog had still been expanding across the country and the ocean before it had dissipated, meaning that for all any one knew, it would have continued until the entire planet was consumed.

And yet, despite the horrific reality that the end of the world had been almost upon them, the fact still remained that it had been averted. Something had put a stop to it, and the stranger that they had encountered had played a part in it. To what extent, or even how, David had no idea, but he knew for sure that he had.

Whether he was some kind of false idol like Mrs. Carmody had predicted, or if he was some other kind of visitor from beyond, like the monsters of the Mist had been, remained shrouded in mystery. Mrs. Carmody and a few of her more devout followers still insisted that they knew his true nature, and that the Mist had been only the beginning of what would be the end times, but they had been placed into custody by the Army after physically assaulting some of the soldiers that attempted to rescue them, so at the very least David did not have to endure her fervent sermons anymore.

Looking down at Stephanie and Billy, who were both fast asleep on the cot next to him, David decided for now that it didn’t matter what the true nature of the stranger had been. Perhaps he was some sort of force for evil that had yet to reveal his actual plans, but for now, David regarded him only as the one who had made his family whole again, and no matter what came next, David, as well as countless others, owed him a debt far greater than all the money in the world could pay.

Thank you.

David was unsure if his silent words were heard or not, but he said it again anyway, and with a slight smile on his face, he laid down next to his wife and child and took them into his arms, falling into a restful sleep like he had never felt before.

Notes:

A/N: Looking back at how many chapters I've written so far, I gotta say I'm a bit surprised that I didn't drop our protagonists into a Stephen King novel sooner. Ah well, better late than never, right?

Writing this chapter actually was a bit tricky in my opinion, as I wasn't sure whether I should stick more to the book or movie version of what happened. In the end, I decided to take elements of both, with drawing more heavily from the movie about the stuff with the soldiers and origins of the Mist and the book for characterization purposes (not so much for David, though, as I prefer the movie version of him where he doesn't have extra-marital relations. Also movie-Ollie is a certified badass, so I leaned more towards that version of him too).

Also, I'm not sure why, but I particularly enjoyed writing the fight scenes in this one. Maybe it was partly because I got to mix in a bit of conflict between the Slayer and the hellhound, but I think it was more because of the fact that the monsters of the Mist offered me the opportunity to have the Slayer fight against a variety of creatures rather than just one type, which is more similar to the game. It really lets me stretch my legs and even grants me the rare opportunity to create my own monsters as well as fun new ways for the Slayer to kill them. That being said, originality isn't really my thing (which is already evident by the fact that I write crossover fics), so the unique reptile monster that the hound fights is probably a near carbon copy of some other creature somebody else already invented, but oh well, I still had a lot of fun writing that part.

Lastly, it has come to my attention that there exist, not just one, but two other works of fanfic that attribute themselves to Universal Doom for inspiration. I have read both of them in their entirety, and I must say that my feelings are conflicted.

On one hand, the fact that MY work has had enough of an impact on someone that they created something of their own with it as an inspiration fills me with an indescribable joy that I almost made a scene in public when I first discovered them. Not to be dramatic or anything...

On the other hand, I can't help but feel a bit sheepish as well. As much as I love that my fic inspired them, I can't help but feel like I'm getting credit for something I really didn't do. Crossovers and universe-hopping have been a thing forever, and while I love what my fic has inspired in others, I am definitely not the first person to write a fic where a protagonist visits multiple other universes. Maybe I'm just overthinking things...

That being said, I implore anyone that likes Universal Doom to go read these fics as well! The first is titled: "Against All Evil" by Firestorm808, and it is also a growing anthology of the Doom Slayer battling against the baddies of the multiverse. At this point in time, there are already five chapters, so please go check it out! The second, titled "Ben 10 Saves the Universe(s)" by TimeLord2000, follows a different (but equally badass) hero as he travels the multiverse and lends his powers to those in need (I'm sure the title gives away the protagonist in question).

Please go show these fics and their authors some serious love if you like Universal Doom, and don't forget to drop a review detailing how good/bad my writing is in this chapter! With that being said, this author's note has gone way longer than it should, so I will see you all next time! Bye!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 40: Krampus: Part One

Notes:

A/N: Ladies and Gentlemen! It is with great pride and boundless pleasure that I introduce you to Universal Doom's very own Holiday Special! Taking place in the comedy/horror movie of Krampus, the Doom Slayer and company have arrived to spread a little Christmas cheer of their own! Enjoy, and always remember: I own nothing!

Nicholas stood stoically on a hill, his eyes scanning over the town below with a solemn weariness that only seemed to deepen as he took in the sight. A winter storm of supernatural proportions swirled above the ice-covered houses, its source no doubt stemming from the evil that surged below. He knew the names of each and every one of the residents of this small suburban community, and it pained him so to see what had become of the once joyful populace that had kept the Spirit of Christmas alive for so many years.

 

Tonight was Christmas Eve, the night of which Nicholas was supposed to be at his strongest, and yet, he had never felt so weakened and vulnerable before. This town, as well as so many others, had lost sight of the true meaning behind this time of year. And despite his efforts, Nicholas had been unable to lift their spirits with his magic, for even when he was at the pinnacle of his power, not even the great Kris Kringle could force holiday cheer into the hearts of humans. No, that was something they could only do on their own. He could only assist in what ways he knew how.

 

It had not been enough. Slowly, throughout many years and Christmases come and gone, a dark and sinister weight had been planted within the hearts of humans across the planet, targeting those who celebrated Christmas and partook in the merry traditions of goodwill and brotherhood that Nicholas himself had created many centuries ago.

 

Its architect? Why, none other than the sworn enemy of Christmas itself, of course. A being much older than Nicholas and far more twisted and sinister. An old titan of this planet that, like Nicholas himself, had been born of the traditions and emotions of humanity. And was now just as powerful as he was in times long past if not even more so…

 

Krampus .

 

Nicholas briefly closed his eyes, as even to spawn the demon’s name in his mind was enough to make him shiver despite the warmth of his weathered cloak.

 

When Nicholas had still existed as a mere human, Krampus was a name synonymous with the final months of the year. He was a being that slumbered during the time of spring and summer but stirred during the autumn and fully awoke in the winter. And when awake, the monster terrorized the then few and ancient humans whose very psyche had birthed him, whisking away men, women, and children alike in the dead of night to its lair. The dark and malicious emotions that were too easily associated with the coldness of winter and the worries of scarce food were akin to a feast in the eyes of the monster, and though early humanity knew of how he drew his power, they could not bring themselves to drive him away, as the magnitude of their grief and sorrow was too great to overcome on their own.

 

It had been Nicholas himself who had first begun to push back against Krampus’s wrath. At the time, he had been but a simple carpenter, but the loss of his mother and father at the odious claws of Krampus had stirred his heart to action. If Krampus fed on the darkness and ill will that resided within the hearts of humans, then the way to rid themselves of him would be to deny him his food. Though Nicholas had been a young man of very few possessions to speak of in those days, he had taken what little he had and had gifted it to the people of his village, taking even the food from his table and wrapping the rations into parcels to be opened by his neighbors. He would craft utensils and tools made of fine wood and disperse them to the community free of charge, devoting extra time and care to ensure his gifts were meaningful and would warm the cold hearts of the village folk.

 

Unfortunately for Nicholas, Krampus’s ill image still clouded the compassionate side of all when he began to dispense his gifts, and many would not open their doors to receive him when he knocked, thinking him to be a beggar or a starving neighbor asking to spare a loaf of bread. And so, it was then that Nicholas had first begun depositing his gifts down the chimneys of his neighbors and friends, smiling heartily and imagining their wary yet curious faces break into smiles of wonder and happiness upon receiving a new set of chairs for their table or an extra sack of grain to fill their hungry bellies.

 

Of course, Nicholas never forgot to provide for the children of his village as well, as it was truly the fear and sorrow of the children that fed the nightmare of Krampus. Adults were older and more set in their ways, but the active mind of a child did far more to provide Krampus sustenance than any adult ever could. And so, Nicholas would include small wooden dolls or figurines in the parcels he deposited down the chimneys, going so far as to even learn to sew so that he could craft blankets and warm hats for the little ones.

 

Nicholas worked tirelessly to provide something for everyone in the village, steeling himself through the initial distrust of his fellow man during the first few seasons, as Krampus’s darkness made them hesitant to accept his gifts. At first, they discarded or tried to return what he would give them, thinking it to be a ploy or a way of earning future favors, but after they began to truly realize that Nicholas’s actions were selfless, then their spirits slowly began to lift. The winter months, while still synonymous with Krampus’s wrath, began to become associated with Nicholas and his generosity, his thankless gift-giving a bright spot of warmth among the heavy chill that was Krampus. Children would begin to visit him year-round in his shop as he worked to craft his gifts, hoping to catch a glimpse of what wonderful surprises he would bestow upon them that winter. Nicholas would always kindly but firmly shoo them away each time he caught them peeking through the window, always reminding them that they would have to wait until the winter months before they could see what grand favors lie in store for them.

 

A few seasons more, and Nicholas’s spirit of giving began to spread to the other inhabitants of the village as well. Bakers would craft delicious treats to give to families, farmers began to gift extra chickens or eggs to their patrons at little to no cost, woodsmen would chop extra stacks of firewood to help heat the hearths of their neighbors during the cold months…

 

Soon enough, nearly everyone in the village began to find their own ways of giving back to each other. The spirit of giving began to flourish throughout the people, simultaneously driving back Krampus’s might by their spirit of joy and togetherness. Disappearances began to dwindle in number as Krampus lost his strength, and eventually, his plight stopped entirely as gift-giving on Christmas became an official tradition to the people of the village.

 

As neighboring villages and towns began to partake in the holiday, Krampus quickly came to be forgotten by all but the older members of the community, the name becoming an afterthought as Nicholas became the new symbol of the winter months. As his name and reputation grew, so too did his workshop, as he soon began to provide gifts and toys to folks in more than just his own village. It was under this new strain of providing for so many that Nicholas began to allow children to work with him in his shop, taking three or four children under his apprenticeship to help craft his gifts. That number grew to nine or ten within a few seasons, and further still after that, Nicholas’s workshop growing into a full-blown operation in just a few short years.

 

It was during those years that Nicholas first felt the magic flow through him. It was magic born from the joy of so many that believed in him and what he could do. It was magic that had been stripped from Krampus when Christmas became tradition, and it was magic that grew each time another child placed their faith in the Father of Christmas.

 

Through this magic, the common tale of Nicholas’s deeds was spread far and wide. Humans everywhere began to believe in the man who selflessly gave to others during the winter months and made gifts and toys in a large workshop. Saint Nicholas, they began to call him, though Nicholas himself had felt such a title was unnecessary.

 

Harnessing the power granted by the magic of belief, Nicholas relocated his workshop to the arctic, a place where he would never be too far from anyone who believed in him. His most devout apprentices chose to follow him and continue spreading the cheer of Christmas. Though nearly all were still children or perhaps young teenagers, Nicholas had been moved by their passion, and at their request, he had used his magic to increase their lifespans, allowing them to retain their youth for centuries and even longer. With their longer life, his workers could perfect and hone their skill in the crafting of gifts, resulting in a proficiency which no human could rival.

 

And so, the legend of Santa Claus had been born, a being that brought laughter and joy into the homes of all during the Christmas season by creating gifts and toys for good little girls and boys.

 

Thinking back to when Nicholas had first become the being he was today, the grizzled man smiled amidst the darkness around him, the fond memories of how it all began always lifting his spirits no matter the situation.

 

“Sir.”

 

Nicholas stirred from his thoughts and turned to the sound of the familiar voice. Looking down, his eyes met those of Stefan, one of his first apprentices and oldest friends.

 

Standing at a little over one and a half meters tall, Stefan, despite the millennia since his birth, looked to be no older than forty based on human standards. Apart from still possessing the same height he held as a child, Stefan’s body was that of an adult in peak physical condition, a product of his years of experience and training. He stood at attention as he addressed Nicholas, his posture perfect and well suited to the set of heavy armor that he wore. A sturdy wooden bow was slung over his shoulder, with a quiver of mistletoe arrows sitting patiently at his side. The bow, Nicholas fondly remembered, had been crafted for Stefan as a Christmas gift from Nicholas himself. Perfectly symmetrical and tuned for pinpoint accuracy, it had been a welcome present for when Stefan had still been a human child attempting to hunt game for his family. It had since then been enhanced by Nicholas’s magic, granting it extra power and range, and enhancing the bow so that rot would never take hold in the wood. It was with that bow that Stefan had felled both woodland beast and Krampus-kin alike over the years, its reliability a proud mark of Nicholas’s impeccable craftsmanship.

 

At his other hip, Stefan carried a simple but lethal handwrought sword, this weapon crafted by Stefan’s own hands rather than Nicholas’s. Its make and design were perfect, and Nicholas smiled as his gaze lingered on the sword for a moment, feeling pride in Stefan for his skills as a weaponsmith.

 

“Sir,” Stefan repeated. “We are ready. You need only give the order.”

 

Nicholas smiled and gave a small shake of his head. His long gray beard swayed in the breeze with the motion.

 

“My friend,” Nicholas said in a gravelly voice that was weathered but still strong. “You and I have known each other for longer than Christmas itself has been celebrated. There is no need for such formality between us.”

 

At this, Stefan relaxed slightly and gave a small smile of his own.

 

“Gotta keep some semblance of formality, Santa,” he replied, this time using a more informal but still reverent title to address Nicholas by. “Can’t have your army thinking that we have a breakdown in command structure.”

 

My army…

 

Thinking once again, Nicholas fell back into the memory of why Father Christmas commanded an army in the first place.

 

As Nicholas recalled, it had begun on the fiftieth anniversary of the first Christmas celebration. Until then, Christmas had still been young, new, and welcome to all who celebrated it, and belief in Santa Claus had been in abundance. But like many good things, it had come to an end.

 

That fiftieth Christmas, the mood was different. The winter that swept across the land had been especially harsh, and the harvest from the summer months had been grave and underwhelming. Families struggled to get by, and as a result, the Christmas spirit had been greatly subdued. Instead of coming together, the communities began to distrust each other and compete for resources, and it very quickly reminded Nicholas of how times had been before, when Krampus had still been in power. Gifts, if they were exchanged at all, were few and far between, with most only given in the hope of receiving something in return, and Nicholas remembered the pang in his heart when he had received so many letters asking for just basic necessities like food and warm clothing.

 

Nicholas did all that he could to provide for all, but even with the aid of his magic, he was stretched too thin, as even he had his limits. The source of Nicholas’s magical power was the very soul and spirit of humanity, but their despair had significantly drained him of magic that year, leaving him and his elves all vulnerable and weak.

 

That Christmas, Krampus returned, the despair of humanity enough to strengthen him once again. He, as well as its vile minions, had set upon the populace, taking them in the night and destroying the homes that he entered as he had so long ago.

 

Humanity tried to defend against Krampus and his ilk, but the monsters and darkened elves that served the holiday demon were as numerous as they were dangerous, and further still, they were emboldened by Krampus’s magic, stacking the deck ever against the humans.

 

It was then that Nicholas decided to fight back, utilizing his skills and those of his elves to craft weapons that were subsequently imbued with his own magic to fight the hordes of Krampus. Though his magic was dangerously weak, Nicholas did what he could, and shortly after he had begun, Nicholas had successfully armed both himself and his workers. With great haste, he dispatched scouts to all corners of the world, instructing them to stand a vigilant watch for signs of Krampus’s approach. These elves kept a keen eye especially on the children, as their level of holiday spirit remained the best form of early warning that Krampus would be coming soon.

 

And each time that Krampus or his minions set upon a town or village, Nicholas was immediately notified by his scouts, and he would personally deploy an armed force to the location to help drive them away. Though the initial lack of training in the ways of war was quite evident and needed to be remedied, the forces of the North Pole held their own against Krampus’s vile horde. And thanks to the timely response of Nicholas and his elves, very few disappearances happened that Christmas.

 

The success of his deterring presence birthed a piece of the legend of Santa Claus that became lesser known and eventually forgotten over time. After the events of that fiftieth Christmas, it was decided that Nicholas would maintain his network of surveillance over the human civilizations of the world, and slowly but surely, Nicholas built up his web of informants so that no sign of Krampus would go unnoticed. He couldn’t see Krampus while he was sleeping, but Nicholas would always know when he was awake.

 

And with his surveillance system in place, Nicholas began to teach his elves not only the skills associated with carpentry and smithing, but also of warfare and how to wield a variety of weapons. Slowly but surely, the North Pole army grew in formidability, learning from their mistakes and honing their skills and tactics each time Krampus awakened in the winter. Though they became extremely efficient at driving away Krampus’s forces of darkness, Nicholas had always held reservations in his heart about his ever-constant battle against Krampus. The season of Christmas was supposed to be a time to put aside your weapons and come together, but he knew that if he and his elves stood down from the fight, then Krampus would slowly grow stronger and feed on humanity once again.

 

Nicholas looked up past Stefan to the rest of the hill, the elevated land covered with the army of the North Pole. A force of nearly five-hundred elves stood in formation, each one carrying armor and weaponry similar to Stefan’s, with each elf wielding a sword crafted personally by either themselves or Nicholas. The elves all stood at or a bit below Stefan’s height, but each stood ready and trained for the battle to come.

 

In addition to the main force, a small unit of cavalry gathered as well. Fifty elves rode the backs of large armored polar bears, with two elves assigned to one steed. Designed to be a highly mobile force, one elf was trained to maneuver the bear while the other was armed with a long pike in the back to skewer any enemies unfortunate enough to be standing in their way. A deadly unit on the battlefield, to be certain.

 

Next to the cavalry force was a force of reindeer pilots, two hundred elves mounted the reindeer in a similar fashion as the cavalry force, but instead of long pikes, the elves mounted in the rear carried longbows similar to Stefan’s, each one highly trained in precision shooting and more than capable of dishing out deadly deliverance from above.

 

Additionally, a force of yeti had come as well, towering over the elves and their steeds as they stood upright on two legs. Though formally natives of the Himalayan Mountains, the large but peaceful creatures had been driven from their home long ago by the humans, so Nicholas had extended to them an offer to find a new home at the North Pole, which the yeti had accepted with great gratitude. Though their community was separate from Nicholas’s workshop, the yeti would come by from time to time and assist with the daily operations alongside the elves, lending their strength and bulk to carry large pallets of gifts and toys to and from the workstations and staging them for delivery. Though the yeti had insisted that they were only repaying Nicholas for allowing them to live at the North Pole, Nicholas still found ways to thank them for their efforts, mostly in the form of parcels of fresh meat seasoned with some of the finest spices known to man or beast. Though the yeti insisted still that Nicholas need not provide such gifts, Nicholas never had to press the matter very far, as the food packages that he prepared for them were unrivaled in quality and taste. Nicholas always chuckled to himself when he saw their eyes light up during food deliveries to their community, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say that they had become quite addicted to his cooking.

 

Though the yeti had never been a part of Nicholas’s army against Krampus, they were still fearsome warriors thanks to their incredible strength and surprising agility. Much like their ape-like cousins that dwelled in warmer climates, the yeti possessed large hands and long arms that were perfect for climbing in the mountain ranges they were so familiar with. Nicholas’s elves were often in awe of how they would swing from the rafters inside the workshop with such ease and fluidity, and they were even more surprised by just how gentle the yeti could be, being able to handle fragile toys and glass with care despite their large hands and sharp claws.

 

Despite the obvious advantage that the yeti would provide among Nicholas’s ranks, he was still regretful that he had needed to ask for their help tonight. Given what he had seen and felt in the events leading up to this Christmas, however, Nicholas knew that he would need their help if he desired to see another one.

 

And even then, it still might not be enough…

 

Nicholas banished the thought as quickly as it came. He couldn’t afford to think like that, he refused to think like that. Not now. Not ever.

 

“Santa?” Stefan asked, tilting his head with concern. Nicholas looked over to his old friend in a moment of contemplation, then nodded his head.

 

“Very well, Stefan,” Nicholas said with firm resolution. “But first, I must address our forces.”

 

Stefan gave a smile and nodded in return before stepping out of Nicholas’s way. Striding forward, Nicholas briefly paused to fetch something from his sleigh, which had been parked only a few meters away. Reaching down, Nicholas grunted as he hefted the substantial yet familiar weight of his own weapon of choice from the cargo section: a large two-handed axe, double-bladed and perfectly crafted for Nicholas’s height and build. Glancing over the axe for a moment and admiring its beauty, the bearded man then walked to where he could best be heard and seen, turning his head to give soft reassurances to the armored reindeer that pulled his sleigh. Once he finally made his way to the front, Nicholas came to a stop and surveyed his army once more, holding the axe in one hand and resting the butt of it in the deep snow at his feet.

 

The elves, bears, and yeti alike all stood a bit straighter as his gaze swept across their ranks, then Nicholas spoke, using his magic to allow his voice to carry so that all could hear.

 

“As I look across all your faces, I see your confusion as to why we have gathered in such force on this Christmas Eve. I am sure many of you have guessed the answer, but allow me to officially clarify.”

 

All fell silent, even the wind itself seemed to abate in anticipation for what Nicholas had to say.

 

“Krampus, our sworn enemy for as long as nearly all of you can remember, has set his forces upon this community behind us.”

 

Nicholas gestured with his axe behind him to the darkened town below.

 

“Despite our efforts to deter his advance, it seems that Krampus has been able to corrupt the Spirit of Christmas here to a degree that we have not seen in a long time. The strength and number of his horde rivals that which he possessed before the time of when Christmas was celebrated. We believe that if he is successful here tonight, he will have enough power to spread his vile darkness even further to larger towns and even cities…unless we stop him.”

 

The weight of Nicholas’s words settled throughout his army, and he shared their feelings of shock and confusion as to how they had allowed this to happen. The truth, which Nicholas had decided not to share with his army, was that Krampus’s forces had somehow uncovered the identity and location of Nicholas’s informants within the community. Before a distress call could be sent out for help, Krampus’s minions had slaughtered the elves and taken their place, sending false messages that the spirit of Christmas was alive and well within the town. In only one other instance had Nicholas’s spies been compromised like that, and the results of that event had been disastrous…

 

…the entire village…

 

Nicholas set his jaw, refusing to think more on that event. Something like that could not be allowed to happen again. Not while he could still fight.

 

“Our initial reports show that Krampus controls a force down there larger than anything we have faced before. What’s more, is that I am sure that he knows we are coming. What awaits us down there will be the hardest battle we have ever fought, and though I believe we can emerge victorious, I know that it will not be without sacrifice. With that, I say that anyone who does not wish to partake may leave without consequence. I will not harbor ill will towards anyone who does not wish to stay.”

 

There was a long moment of silence, and then Nicholas felt his heart swell with pride as each of his troops set their own jaws and hardened their stances before his very eyes. Every single one of them still had faith in Nicholas, in the Spirit of Christmas, and Nicholas knew in that moment that never in a million years would he find a finer set of individuals that he was willing to fight and possibly die alongside.

 

“Very well,” he said with a steadfast and yet grateful tone, turning to Stefan as he did so.

 

“Commander, the floor is yours.”

 

Stefan stood to and cleared his throat before addressing the army.

 

“The only way to ensure that Krampus is purged from this town is to clear it street by street,” he began.  “Battalions two, five, and six will prioritize the houses north of the river, while one, three and four will take the houses to the south.”

 

Nicholas nodded in approval and took a step back, standing his axe up by its long haft and holding it easily in one hand.

 

“Unfortunately, many civilians are still trapped within their homes and buildings,” Stefan continued, gesturing to the dark storm that blanketed the town below. “That makes search and rescue our top priority. If you encounter any humans, contact our pilots immediately for extraction.”

 

Stefan gestured to the reindeer pilots as he spoke, who all nodded affirmingly. Each pilot was well versed in search and rescue operations, and each reindeer was strong enough to carry three to four humans at once if necessary.

 

“The yeti and cavalry are to divide themselves up evenly among the battalions, such that no one unit is without support. They are not to remain with the main force, but must be ready to assist nearby. When not actively participating in rescue operations, air support can be provided upon request.”

 

The large force remained silent, still at attention and focused on the battle to come.

 

“Finally, should any of you encounter Krampus, immediately contact either Santa or myself. Do not attempt to engage him on your own. Report his location and accompanying force, then immediately retreat to a safe distance. Is that understood?”

 

“Yes sir!” came the unified response from the hundreds of elves, their voices echoing off the hilltop and down into the valley below.

 

Nicholas understood the necessity of Stefan’s warning, as the physical prowess of Krampus was a frightening legend to the denizens of the North Pole. None had seen the demon’s fighting ability up close and lived to tell the tale. Santa had lost many elves to the beast over the centuries, and despite the length of time they had warred against each other, Nicholas had only seen Krampus in the flesh a select few times. And even then, they had all been mere glimpses or from a distance. Never up close.

 

Nicholas’s grip tightened on his battle axe at the thought. Despite Santa Claus being considered one of the most powerful beings on the planet, many of his elves held a nervous curiosity as to how he would fare if he were to duel Krampus in single combat. Even those who had witnessed Nicholas’s skill in battle were still unsure of the outcome, and in truth, Nicholas shared in their uncertainty. He knew that his skills far outclassed any man or beast alive, but Krampus was said to be just as fearsome if not more so than he, and with how diminished his magic was this season, Nicholas would be foolish to think that a duel with Krampus on this night might not cost him his life.

 

Nicholas scowled and scolded himself once again for letting those thoughts enter his mind. He needed to focus on the here and now. Whatever came next, he would worry about it then.

 

Stefan turned back to Nicholas and gave a small nod to indicate that he was finished, which Nicholas returned before hefting his axe and stepping forward once again. Despite his appearance as an older man, his figure stood imposingly before his troops and allies.

 

“Krampus thinks that he can stop us, that he can topple the Spirit of Christmas forever by gaining a foothold in this town tonight. I do not know about any of you, but I will not stand idly by and let him get away with this! Now, who is with me?!”

 

A cheer sounded from the ranks of elves, their voices strong, but not quite in unison.

 

“I said: Who is with me?!”

 

This time, the cheering exploded into a loud roaring as elves, yeti, and beast alike let out a battle cry that shook the earth and momentarily blocked out the sound of the blizzard in the valley below.

 

“Then march!” Nicholas ordered, swiftly mounting his sleigh with an agility that defied his years. “Take to the streets, save this town, and let Krampus never forget that the Spirit of Christmas lives on!”

 

A fresh bout of motivated cheering rolled across the land as the army of the North Pole set forth down the hill and into the valley below. The elves marched forward in a double-timed unison that maintained their formation while still displaying their swiftness, but the yeti and mounted cavalry eagerly charged down the hill and into the town below on a warpath. Nicholas had stirred the fires within them with his words, and he saw no fear on any of their faces as he took his place at the reins and roused his reindeer to attention. Mimicking his actions, the elf pilots immediately took to the skies, flying over the ground troops and assuming their own combat formations.

 

With a small snap of the reins, Santa’s own sleigh followed suit, the combined might of eight magical reindeer easily lifting the vehicle up into the blackened sky. A glance to the front of the main force showed Stefan at the head, marching in time at a good distance forward of the bulk of elven soldiers.

 

Nicholas watched as he caught back up to the main forces in the air, then frowned as the wind grew nastier still as if in response to their approach. Pellets of ice began to fill the air, enough to cause him to squint as they pelted against his army like large needles.

 

“Sir!” came Stefan’s voice over the howling gale, loudly and clearly echoing in Nicholas’s mind through a magical link between them. “The weather is going to prevent us from getting into the town! We need a way to punch through! Our forces can’t get much closer without casualties!”

 

Nicholas did not even bother answering. Instead, he shifted the reins into one hand and hefted his axe with the other. He willed his reindeer to pull to the front of the formation and drew the axe closer to his face.

 

Summoning his will, Nicholas felt his magic flow through the axe as it had so many times before. Bright red light began to fill the runes of the axehead, and the tempered metal began to glow with both warmth and power. It was as though the axe itself was awakening from a deep slumber. Nicholas supposed that in a way, it was, as he was breathing the very life of Christmas into it once again.

 

Rudolph , was its name. It was a name that Nicholas had learned long ago when he had forged the weapon. So much magic had been used to enchant it that it had been bestowed with a will of its own, and though it never acted without its wielder, Nicholas had felt its will when he used it in battle. It was just as much alive as he was, and though it had only just awoken, he could feel its anticipation growing within the runed metal.

 

“Old friend, I beseech you once again, guide my sleigh tonight!”

 

The axe responded like an eager hound set free from its leash, and Nicholas lifted the head high into the air as power burst forth from the blade. Potent red energy arced through the air and towards the stormwall before them, crackling as the warmth from the energy forcibly blasted away the cold wind from the storm.

 

Where the energy struck, the blizzard relented, and the storm cowered as the light from the axe seemed to split the very heavens open to grant him access. Fresh cheers resounded from the pilots around him and the main force below as the elves in formation broke into a tight run to pass through the makeshift gate before them.

 

“Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!”

 

…

 

…so the gift-giver had arrived at last. He and his little zealots were certainly persistent, but they did not have the strength to stop what had already been set in motion.

 

No, they had only enough power to delay it, and even then, by perhaps only a year or so. The time to save their precious Christmas was long gone, as the forces that worked against them had managed to evade their notice all the way up until the move was made.

 

Throughout centuries of planning and subtlety, their so-called “Spirit of Christmas” had been corrupted by His careful hand. Sprinkling darkness into the hearts of humanity piece by piece, He had steered the tone of the holiday from forgiveness and giving to that of judgment and bitterness. How fickle they had been! It was always noted with a small amount of humor how easily ill will could fester among the humans. Their shallow minds combined with their pitifully short lifespans narrowed their understanding of the grand nature of things, making them susceptible to the slightest suggestions or urgings if it meant their temporary survival.

 

And so, by slowly corrupting their little holiday with greed and envy, they had unknowingly strengthened Him once more, and by His victory here, the world would once again know His name. With His name came fear, and given just a few short seasons more, the time of winter would once again be synonymous with his wrath, and no one, especially their weak and withered “Father of Christmas”, would be able to stop Him…

 

…

 

Nicholas growled and struck down another winged monstrosity with a blast of red light. Rudolph hummed with power and eagerness as he kept a swarm of airborne nightmares at bay. Harpies and darkened angels all crafted of metal and wood screeched and clawed at him and his reindeer pilots, and their ferocity and numbers were matched in kind by their ground-borne counterparts below.

 

Krampus had known that they were coming. Of that, there was no doubt. Shortly after passing through the stormfront and into the suburban neighborhood, they had been met by a horde of Krampus’s demonic creations. An army of dark elves carrying all sorts of crude weaponry and donning ghoulish masks had clashed against his own elves, and though Nicholas’s troops were far more efficient and organized, they were vastly outnumbered. Their line held for now, but quite a few had already fallen to the superior numbers, their swords already well-bloodied with the essence of their fallen foes.

 

Krampus had also seen fit to augment his forces with his own vile and twisted creations, and his capacity for creation rivaled Nicholas’s own. The only difference was that Nicholas built to bring cheer and happiness, while Krampus built to ultimately hurt and destroy. That fact was evident by the presence of large golems built of ice and snow on the battlefield, their size greater than that of the yeti and their eyes glowing with a green maliciousness. Their grotesque claws of ice swatted at the reindeer pilots that circled above them, and their gargantuan feet stomped at the elves and polar riders that stabbed at them with their pikes.

 

The variety of Krampus’s forces did not end there however, as he possessed an armored cavalry of his own. Large yule goats lumbered forward in heavy armor, their riders equipped much like Nicholas’s own with bows and pikes that harassed any enemies that weren’t trodden underfoot by their large hooves.

 

Seeing a break in the attack from his winged harassers, Nicholas summoned his will and Rudolph responded en force. Aiming the axe down toward an approaching line of large yule goats, another bright red blast of energy burst from the blade and rained down upon Krampus's foul cavalry, smiting many of the goats and their riders in just a few short seconds.

 

Briefly winded from the exertion of his attack, Nicholas looked up just in time to see a mechanical abomination dive directly for him, rusted iron claws outstretched to gouge out his eyeballs. Nicholas grunted and swung his axe in a wide arc, cleaving the monstrosity in two just before it struck him.

 

As the creature’s now two halves fell onto the battlefield below, Nicholas heard Stefan reach out to him from the battlefield.

 

“Sir! We are grossly outnumbered! Casualty reports are coming in from all sides! Orders, sir?!”

 

Nicholas looked down to see Stefan dueling four dark elves at once, his sword expertly parrying their wild swings and riposting when the opportunity arose with deadly results. His commander was certainly holding his own, but looking down to the battlefield, he saw that despite his assistance, his forces were slowly but surely being overwhelmed. No matter how many dark elves or beasts his army felled, there were always more to take their place, whereas Nicholas’s troops were becoming more obviously finite by the second.

 

Crushingly, Nicholas began to see just how much the odds were stacked against him, and how close Christmas was coming to extinction. He knew that he himself would rather die than see Krampus’s vision become reality once more, but his elves…

 

He knew that they had all agreed to fight despite the odds, but to ask them all to sacrifice themselves…?

 

As Nicholas battled with the weight of his choice, he saw the line of the North Pole falter, dangerously close to breaking. And if it broke, Nicholas knew that all of them, elf, yeti, polar bear, and reindeer, would be slaughtered. He knew that each one of them would have given their life so that Christmas would last, but Nicholas could not find it in himself to allow them such a sacrifice.

 

“Stefan…” his throat was dry and his words were heavy with weariness. “Order an immediate retre–”

 

Nicholas’s voice was drowned out all of a sudden by a thunderous boom that sounded from the battlefield below. Momentarily forgetting about his half-spoken order, Nicholas looked down upon the battlefield to see the last vestiges of a bright blue light fade into nothingness.

 

The source of the light had appeared perfectly between the armies of Krampus and Nicholas, effectively halting the flow of battle with its sudden and insistent appearance. Even the airborne warriors paused their altercation to take in the sight on the icy ground below.

 

As the light faded, Nicholas looked down to see a shadowy silhouette take its place, the darkness of the blizzard obscuring the noticeably bulky form that had been thrust upon the battlefield. As his eyes adjusted, Nicholas saw the form take the shape of an armored, bipedal humanoid, though not much else could be discerned from its appearance due to the distance between Nicholas and it.

 

The armored figure slowly turned its head in observance of the frozen battle before it. Strangely, it did not seem perturbed by the two armies that it was now enclosed between, which struck Nicholas as odd, as certainly any normal human (at least he assumed that he armored figure was human) would be somewhat startled by suddenly appearing in the middle of a yuletide skirmish.

 

And yet, this newcomer stood almost stoically, as though it was anticipating someone else to make the first move. In that moment, Nicholas’s magic spoke to him, whispering of an ancient and deadly force even older than Krampus, and even Rudolph seemed to vibrate with excitement, which only increased Nicholas’s sense of anticipation for what came next.

 

As if on cue, a foul harpy made of wood and steel chose to dive bomb the figure at that moment, its metallic beak squawking with hatred and animosity. Furling its wings in a harsh squealing of metal, the vile beast dove toward the strange humanoid. But before it could outstretch its lengthy claws in anticipation, the figure had moved with a blurred speed that even Nicholas could barely follow.

 

Drawing a strange weapon from thin air, the figure fired a bright beam of red light at the monster, the beam striking the automaton with such force that its metallic body was wrenched apart by the blast. As both its wings, its head, and its feet separated from its main body with the force of the impact, Nicholas watched in a state of suspended awe as its limbs began to decay into dust as they did so, the wood and metal crumbling into ash before they had the chance to hit the ground.

 

There was a moment of brief silence, hardly a breath in real time, then the figure seemingly came to a conclusion. With another bout of blurred movement that Nicholas could barely follow, the figure launched itself against the forces of Krampus, drawing another weapon and opening fire on the dark elves that were closest to it.

 

Their dying screams seemed to ignite the tide of battle once more, and Nicholas roused his troops by crying out and summoning another beam of energy from Rudolph, using it this time to chain destructive energy through the airborne ghouls that littered the sky. His attack not only felled numerous demons, but also bathed the battlefield in a dull red glow, which struck his troops from their stupor and motivated them to follow in their leaders footsteps. They launched themselves anew at the enemy, striking with renewed vigor at the ankles of the vile golems and finding acute accuracy to shoot down the hordes in the sky. As Nicholas watched, an exceptionally motivated yeti launched itself onto the shoulders of a snow golem. Using its bestial strength, the yeti ripped the golem’s head clean from its shoulders, and though the golem still continued to swing about wildly without its head, the combined efforts of other yeti and the polar riders brought it down mere moments after.

 

“ Sir!” Nicholas heard Stefan’s voice from below. “Who…or rather… what is that thing?”

 

Nicholas knew that Stefan spoke only of the mysterious figure below, and like his friend, Nicholas had no idea as to the origins of their temporary ally. Its strength was certainly a welcome addition to his forces, but beyond that…

 

Before Nicholas could voice his own ignorance of the situation, he was struck by the sudden existence of another and far more sinister force not too far away. Instinctively turning towards that direction, Nicholas’s eyes furrowed as he recognized the signature of this recently observed entity.

 

Krampus .

 

“Stefan!” Nicholas called out as he hefted his axe and shifted his weight.

 

“Krampus is close. I’m moving towards the location now. See to it that I am not followed…by Krampus’s forces or our own.”

 

Nicholas barely heard Stefan’s frantic protests as he then hurdled over the side of his sleigh and into the cold empty air beneath. For a few peaceful moments, Nicholas closed his eyes as he treasured the strangely soothing sound of the wind rushing past his ears, then his eyes snapped open, and he arched his body to come into a proper landing position. Reindeer pilots and Krampus-kin whooshed past as he drew closer to the ground, the battle in the sky continuing to rage on without him. Using his magic, Nicholas coated his body with a protective shield, and in the next second, he hit the ground hard. White snow powder and ice chips blossomed in a fine cloud from where he had landed, but none of that was of concern to Nicholas, as he only had eyes for his foe.

 

Absent-mindedly, Nicholas swung his axe in a wide sweep, decapitating three dark elves as he did so. The poor fools did not even see their death coming. With a mask of determination, Nicholas began carving his way through the odious hordes of Krampus’s army, his eyes not straying for even a moment in search of his goal.

 

A large yule goat approached him from behind with preparations to crush him beneath its hooves, but five yeti fell upon it in the next moment, toppling it off balance as they clawed and bit into its armored but vulnerable hide.

 

Nicholas broke into a jog to continue forward, but a golem suddenly stepped into his path, and he had to crane his neck to see the unsavory green that glowed within its eye sockets. Nicholas made to strike with Rudolph , but the golem suddenly jolted where it stood, as though it had been struck by invisible lightning. The large animated vessel arched its head in a bellow of agony, then fell to its knees. Nicholas held his axe at the ready, but it proved unnecessary, as the green light in the golem’s eyes flickered and died shortly after, the beast’s form falling face first into the snowy earth and going completely still.

Gazing up, Nicholas saw none other than the mysterious stranger appear before him, a large chainsaw embedded to the hilt in the back of the golem. The stranger wrenched the chainsaw from the golem, then fixed its helmeted gaze onto Nicholas for the first time.

In that moment, Nicholas knew for a fact that this entity was not of this world. Its strength was evidently overwhelming, but Nicholas could sense a certain sort of indomitability from beneath the armor that surpassed himself and even that of Krampus. If it had existed in this world before, there was no way that it would have escaped his notice for so long.

And yet, despite his revelation regarding this newcomer, Nicholas found it to still be an enigma of great degree. For such an being this powerful to have suddenly arrived on this world could certainly not be by accident. Surely it had come with a purpose in mind, and Nicholas was extremely wary that its intentions would not align with his own.

There was a moment of silence as the two supernatural beings examined each other, then a metallic voice spoke from the armored suit.

“Hello. I am VEGA. I am the A.I. housed within this suit. The man you see before you is known as the Doom Slayer.”

Nicholas frowned briefly at the abrupt introduction but quickly shrugged it off and offered a brief nod of his head despite the continuing carnage around him. If this “Doom Slayer” was a force of evil, then he would have to be dealt with at a later time. For right now, Nicholas had no choice but gamble on his intent with Christmas itself.

“VEGA. Doom Slayer. My name is Nicholas. I am fighting to save the world from being enveloped by a great evil on this Christmas. Despite your sudden and wholly unknown arrival, I am afraid I must beg your assistance, as I fear my forces can no longer overcome this evil unaided. Will you help me?”

“We do not yet know the intentions of either of your armies,” the voice known as VEGA replied kindly. “However, it appears that these forces you oppose harbor ill will towards civilians. That is sufficient to see us temporarily allied.”

Nicholas shared an intense look with the Doom Slayer for a moment, then cautiously lowered his guard, seeing as it was enough to trust this strange human for now. The Doom Slayer seemed to trust Nicholas as well, though it seemed as though the Slayer had innate sense for such things.

“Then I owe you a debt beyond measure,” Nicholas said before gesturing in the direction that Krampus’s evil was emanating from. “Krampus, vile enemy of Christmas, has made himself known not far from here. I must face him personally, but I beseech your assistance in clearing the way.”

The Doom Slayer followed his gaze, taking note of the swarm of Krampus’s minions that stood between them and where the holiday demon’s aura seemed to be emanating from. The scores of enemies did not seem to deter him in the slightest, and Nicholas watched as the Slayer produced a pump-action shotgun seemingly from thin air and cocked it once, loading a round into the chamber. The sound itself resonated an unnaturally large amount of intimidation, even to Nicholas, and as if to set the scene further, a sudden flash of lightning struck the snowy ground adjacent to where the two of them stood, startling Nicholas with the clap of thunder that followed.

As the flash from the lightning blinked away, Nicholas noted with a significant degree of surprise that a large canine-looking creature had appeared, its jet-black fur ablaze with some form of otherworldly fire that did not seem to deter the creature at all. The four-legged animal took notice of Nicholas with a pair of glowing amber eyes, and it gave him a few experimental sniffs with its skinless snout before disregarding him, seemingly in favor of the hordes of Krampus-kin that lay before them.

“I believe we will be able to entertain your request without issue,” VEGA said from within the Slayer’s armor. “However, I must request in return that your own forces do not target the Slayer or the hellhound, as they may mistake us as enemies.”

Nicholas nodded and spoke to his forces telepathically through his magic, informing them of the two new additions of their forces. Strict orders were given to remain an ample distance from them as well, for if this “hellhound” possessed even a fraction of the fighting prowess the Doom Slayer did, then it was likely that they both would very quickly become the center of attention in this battle, meaning that they would likely be found where the concentration of Krampus’s forces were the thickest.

…

Nicholas’s prediction proved to be all-too-accurate in the ensuing carnage, as the Slayer and his canine companion tore into Krampus’s forces with such vigor that the armies of the North Pole had to struggle to keep up. The two of them moved with enough speed and efficiency to be considered equivalent to an army of their own, and many of Nicholas’s forces went several minutes without directly clashing with Krampus’s own army, as the Slayer and the hellhound’s wake of destruction advanced at an unparalleled rate. Nicholas had even watched in awe as Stefan made to strike a killing blow against a dark elf by decapitating it, only for the warped creature’s head to explode from a well-placed shot from one of the Slayer’s numerous weapons. Stefan’s blade swept swiftly through the empty air where the dark elf’s head had been moments before, and the seasoned veteran had stood stunned for a brief moment before he had realized what had happened. Stefan then turned to give the Slayer an angry glare at having his kill stolen, only to find that the Slayer had already moved on, and was currently in the process of snapping a gargantuan yule goat’s horn from its head in order to impale it.

Even Nicholas had to push himself in order to keep the hellhound and the Slayer’s pace. To say that the Slayer was keeping his promise to clear the way was an understatement, and with Nicholas’s own skill in battle added to the mix, the three of them had punched a hole no less than thirty meters wide in the vile sea of their holiday foes.

Wind and ice only grew in its torrent as they plowed forward towards the location of Krampus, the weather directly affected by the mere presence of the demon of winter. It was as though the earth itself stood against them that night, but Nicholas continued on still, his spirit emboldened by his loyalty to Christmas itself and the aid of the Slayer.

Krampus’s own forces had shifted their attention mostly to them now, as it seemed that their ultimate goal was to prevent anyone from breaking through their line and reaching their vile master. Their efforts amounted to little difference, however, as the combined will of Nicholas, the hellhound, and the Doom Slayer refused to be denied on that Christmas Eve.

It was only with a few more minutes of fighting that they broke through the line and to the other side of the swarm. All around and behind them, the forces of the North Pole still clashed ferociously against the enemies of Christmas, both sides zealotous in their pursuit of victory. At the sight, Nicholas hesitated, his desire to stay and fight alongside his forces temporarily overpowering the need to face Krampus. The moment quickly passed, however, as Nicholas knew that he had his own battle still yet to be fought.

Looking over, Nicholas moved to get the attention of the Doom Slayer, who was embattled with a twisted amalgamation of metal and hate. The automaton was vaguely human-like, though it stood at least three meters tall, and its metallic features were distorted in representation of the perverted nature of its creator. Numerous arms that ended in blades and claws all struck out against the Slayer, and a skeletal face with razor sharp teeth the size of human fingers gnashed rabidly. Nicholas took a step forward to assist, but somewhere in his mind, he knew that his help would not be required.

The Slayer proved him right yet again by catching one of the wrists of the mechanical abomination as it lashed out at him. The arm itself ended in a circular saw that screeched as it spun, but the Slayer paid it no mind. Balling his other fist tightly, the armored human brought his forearm down hard onto the metallic appendage, keeping his steadfast grip on the automaton's wrist. The force of the blow tore the robot’s arm in two, but before it could screech in anguish and fury, the Slayer brought his fist back up and backhanded the creature across its steel jaw. Metal flew into the air as the lower half of the creature’s face came free from the rest of its being, and the force of the blow spun it around, presenting its back to the Slayer. There was no hesitation from the armored man, and a moment later, he had discarded the half-arm still clenched in his fist and had mounted the creature’s back. Reaching up, he dug his gauntlets deep into the monstrosity’s anatomy where its head met its shoulders. A high-pitched metallic squealing pierced the night air over the other sounds of battle as the Slayer then pulled the head free, taking with it most of the robot’s spinal column and rib cage as he did so.

He turned his gaze to Nicholas at last after that, the still twitching and sparking pieces of the automaton falling to the ground as nothing more than scrap metal. Nearby, the hellhound continued in its fury, scattering the dark elves as they attempted to flee from its hellacious onslaught.

“It is time,” Nicholas said. “I must go forward alone. I am in no position to do so, but I must ask of you one last thing.”

Neither the Slayer nor VEGA spoke, silently prompting Nicholas to continue.

“Please ensure that I am not followed…by neither Krampus’s or my own forces. I will not further risk any of their lives by having them attempt to battle Krampus with me.”

The Slayer waited for a beat, then gave a singular resolute nod with his head, and though Nicholas knew that the Slayer had already agreed to honor his final request, he still extended his arm in a gesture of gratitude, and the Slayer returned the gesture by firmly grasping his forearm in his gauntleted hand.

“If I should fall, promise me that you will not let the Krampus leave this place. Whatever happens to me, it all ends tonight.” 

Then, with their unspoken agreement made, the two of them turned away, the Doom Slayer back towards the battle that still raged on, and Nicholas towards the darkness beyond, steeling himself for what would be his first and last confrontation with Krampus, millenia of war and suffering all coming to a head on this final Christmas Eve.

…

Omi stood resolutely in front of the fireplace, its flames of warm and comfort long gone as a chill colder than any she’d ever felt before began to set in.

He was here.

Krampus.

Despite Omi’s best efforts to keep the Spirit of Christmas alive within the hearts of her family, he had still returned, coming once again to steal away those who had forgotten the true meaning of this time of year…

…just like he had done all those years ago.

Sorrow threatened to overwhelm Omi as she remembered that fateful night from her childhood, how her village had lost their hope in almost the exact same way that her family had now, and how Krampus had come and taken them all. He had swept them all away on that one fateful Christmas Eve…

…all but Omi.

He had left her behind as a reminder of what would happen when belief is forgotten and the Christmas Spirit dies.

And now, he had come again, and all that was left to do was to face him. All that Omi could hope to salvage from her failure was to delay Krampus just enough so that her family could escape. It had been a desperate hope, but it was the only one that she had left. Krampus had stolen all the rest.

Wind howled through the broken living room window as a deep and vile roar sounded from somewhere outside the house, and lightning flashed and thunder rolled as a blizzard from hell raged on outside. As if it were even possible, the temperature dropped further still, and out of the corner of her eyes, Omi could see frost beginning to coalesce on the surface of a snow globe sitting on the mantelpiece, the lights on the wreath and holly flickering in a desperate attempt to stay lit against the elements as well.

A loud crack suddenly resonated throughout the house, startling Omi and causing her to take a half step back and look up at where the wall above the fireplace met the ceiling. For a moment, there was nothing save for the wind and thunder, then a large crack appeared in the drywall, sprouting from somewhere above and slowly beginning to work its way down to the fireplace.

The wall bulged outward as the crack deepened, the chimney struggling to contain the size of the demon that was descending down its length. Omi watched in a mournful silence, her mind having already accepted her fate as loose bricks fell from somewhere in the chimney and clattered into the hearth.

The demon had not yet emerged, but Omi could hear its deep and raspy breathing echo outward from the fireplace, its odious noise combined with the cracking and breaking of the wall as Krampus forced his way down.

The first thing she saw were his claws. Long taloned hands emerged from above the lip of the hearth and grasped at the edges for purchase. Like long pale spider legs, the hands pulled the rest of a massive body out from within the chimney.

Two massive hooves landed on the hardwood floor with a loud crack, and before her eyes, the gargantuan form of Krampus slowly began unfurling himself to rise to his full height. His hulking body was draped in heavy layers of pelts and furs, all dark red as if dyed with blood. Long chains and rusty bells clanked with each step, wrapped about his body like a sash.

Omi steeled herself to meet his gaze, but paused when she felt the pleasant warmth of a gloved hand on her shoulder. Slowly, the elder woman turned her head to meet the kindest pair of eyes she had ever seen. An old and weathered man looked back at her with a kind warmth behind his eyes that was powerful enough to banish the chill of the blizzard outside. It was a look that reminded Omi so much of a kind parent, who would somehow always make things ok no matter how bad they seemed to get.

The old man greeted her as though she were an old friend, and though Omi would never know how, she somehow still felt somewhere deep in her bones that he had known her long before this night. And with a startling realization, she realized that she had met him once before. She had just forgotten who this man truly was.

“ Weihnachtsmann,” Omi whispered, her aging face lifting into a genuine smile for the first time in days.

The man nodded and returned the smile. It was warm enough to melt even the coldest of ice. He reassured her and called her by her real name, speaking her first language with such fluency that he could have been mistaken for one of the elders in her village.

The moment was fleeting, however, and a deep and twisted growl shook Omi to her core and caused her smile to falter as her eyes jolted back to Krampus, who had fully emerged from the chimney and was now menacingly approaching the two of them. Omi could not see the demon’s face behind the cruel bearded mask it wore, but its eyes pierced into her soul. Goat-like irises seemingly seeing right through her and drawing all of her pain and suffering to the surface.

Next to her, Saint Nicholas’s face grew hard. He briefly set down the large axe he had been carrying, then shouldered off his large red cloak and placed it around Omi’s shoulders. The chill from Krampus was immediately banished once again, the feeling of the cloak akin to sitting next to a roaring fire. It even smelled like roasting chestnuts, and despite how heavy it was, Omi somehow only felt lighter with it on.

Saint Nicholas then asked Omi to exit the house, assuring her that the cloak would keep her warm and safe from the storm and Krampus’s evil minions. He gave her a direction, assuring her that her family had been directed that way as well.

His words were firm but with an overarching calmness, and yet, Omi still hesitated for the briefest moments. The hulking beast that was Krampus looked so angry and dangerous, and though Saint Nicholas did not look weak by any means, for him to face a demon such as this alone…

The old man turned and gave Omi a smile and another reassuring nod, and though she still feared to leave him alone with Krampus, Omi turned and strode from the house, hastily making her way out into the storm.

The wind thrashed at her and blew ice and sleet everywhere, but the cloak remained warm all the same. It even seemed to lessen the wind around Omi as she hurried down the snow covered street.

…

Nicholas’s eyes narrowed as he truly took in Krampus for the first time. To call this entity fearsome would not even begin to describe the menace that emanated from Krampus’s very essence. Though Nicholas himself was one of the most powerful beings on the planet, even he still felt a chill down his spine as Krampus gazed upon him for the first time as well.

The two were silent for a moment, then a deep rumbling laughter sounded from behind Krampus’s mask, and Nicholas grit his teeth as the demon unshouldered one of its chains and held it easily within its massive and gnarled claws. At one end of one chain sat a large barbed hook, and at the other was a large ironclad bell, likely used as a blunt striking object against anything that stood in Krampus’s way. The beast's movements were slow and deliberate, but Nicholas had lived long enough to know better. Krampus was not to be underestimated, and to do so in any account would mean death.

Nicholas hefted Rudolph and readied himself against his sworn enemy, focused and sharp.

“Your evil ends tonight, Krampus.” 

There was a pause, then another deep laugh from Krampus, and Nicholas barely had time to respond before the beast rushed forward, swinging its chain at blinding speed towards his head.

Notes:

A/N: So, as many have already deduced, this arc exists in two parts. This mainly exists because I came slightly unhinged and wrote this story in a whopping 26,000 words. This, my friends, is once a again a record, and I'm thinking that I'm going to have to dial it back eventually lest my chapters eventually grow to the lengths of entire stories on their own. That being said, there was much delicious lore to play with when it came to this story thanks to the director of the movie: Michael Dougherty (did you know he wrote a comic book to accompany the movie?).

So, for the first time ever, I split the chapter into two parts, which will be released one after the other! Now, as many of you have also noticed, I deviated quite a bit from how the movie depicts Krampus and his motives, but I'd like to think that that even the holiday demon whose job is to punish naughty children might have some ulterior motives!

Either way, please let me know what you think by bullying me or commending me in the comments, as I absolutely love hearing feedback on how my work is going so far! I will see you all in Part 2!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 41: Krampus: Part Two

Notes:

A/N: Merry Christmas Eve, and welcome everyone to Part 2 of Universal Doom's very own holiday special! I hope everyone enjoys the thrilling conclusion of this story arc. Enjoy! I own nothing!

Stefan drove his blade through the neck of a dark elf, silencing the creature's screeches of battle and swiftly ending its life. The armies of the North Pole, thanks to the assistance of the strange armored figure and his demonic wolf, had broken Krampus's line completely, and now the remaining forces were in complete disarray as Stefan and his companions tore through them like a whirlwind.

As with on the ground, the air forces were slowly turning the tide as well. Stefan had been able to organize a few regiments into ground-to-air sharpshooters with their enchanted bows and arrows, offering much needed aid to the outnumbered reindeer pilots above.

Looking now, Stefan could see that Krampus's forces were now diminishing rapidly, and that the armies of the North Pole were no longer fighting back from the brink of utter defeat. It was time to complete the mission they had come here for.

"Battalions three and six, reform our offensive line and continue our assault against the main force! All other units, regroup and begin clearing the streets! All yeti and cavalry units provide additional support! Don't let any Krampus-kin escape!"

Stefan's voice was carried and amplified by an amulet imbued with Nicholas's magic, and the entire army of the North Pole heard him as clearly as if he were speaking directly into their ears. A battle cry went up from all of their forces, and Stefan looked on with pride as the army immediately reorganized itself to comply with the orders he had given.

The only unknown remaining was that of the armored stranger, or "Doom Slayer", as Nicholas had said his name was. Stefan had consciously refrained from directly giving the armored man any orders, as not only was Stefan doubtful that the Doom Slayer would follow them, but he also had an inkling that given the seemingly bottomless wealth of combat experience that the armored human possessed, he would automatically position himself were he was most effective, and therefore not require any orders at all.

Stefan's hunch was proven correct as the Slayer and his canine companion swiftly moved to flank the remaining bulk of Krampus's forces from behind. Together, the two of them fought with the strength of armies, and their forceful advance drove back Krampus's forces with ease…and directly towards the offensive line of Nicholas's army.

Sandwiched between the two forces, Stefan watched as the enemies of Christmas began to drop like snowflakes in a thick winter storm. Piles of bodies and metal and wood all began to amass as they were cut down in swathes, staining the thick blanket of snow on the street a deep red.

They were winning.

The thought filled Stefan with hope of indescribable proportions. Victory had been snatched from the very jaws of defeat on this night, and though Stefan knew that it was largely in part due to the arrival of the Doom Slayer, he still felt overwhelming pride in the vigor and training that had allowed the armies of Christmas to last long enough until the Slayer and hellhound had appeared. They had been prepared to fight to the last, and Stefan looked on with a genuine smile on his face as a trio of elfish soldiers fended off a small swarm of monstrous stuffed animals with razor sharp teeth and beady eyes. The cruel imitations of the toys made in Nicholas's workshop were feral and many, but the elves fought precisely and determinedly, saving the life of the downed polar bear mount that the abominations had begun to tear their claws and teeth into. Stefan's gratification soared as the bear was helped to its feet once the immediate threat was passed, and the back of his mind, he felt a twinge of disappointment that Nicholas was not there to witness the sheer grandeur of his army in this moment.

Nicholas.

With a cold jolt, Stefan remembered exactly why Nicholas was not there to witness this moment. Whirling around, Stefan looked to the direction he felt Krampus's evil aura emanating from. It was as twisted and cold as ever to feel Krampus so close, but unlike when they had first arrived in the town, it now pulsed and ebbed with the edge of rage, indicating that Krampus was embattled against something…or someone.

Nicholas.

Stefan set his jaw, remembering the strict orders he had been given to bar any advance of Krampus's forces should they attempt to follow Nicholas in his attempt to face their master. And he unfortunately remembered that he was to halt any attempt by the armies of the North Pole to follow as well. Stefan knew that Nicholas had given those orders with the express intent to protect them from Krampus's wrath, but with the demon's entire army almost defeated, Stefan couldn't just sit here and wait while Nicholas faced the nightmare of Krampus on his own. Despite how powerful Father Christmas was, Stefan was not blind to the fact that his magic was weakened this year. And Krampus was without a doubt far stronger than he had been for a long time.

Stefan's heart wrenched in his chest, partly in anger at Nicholas at ordering them all to remain behind while he foolishly challenged Krampus himself. This victory meant nothing if Nicholas died tonight, and Stefan felt his loyalties clash within him as he struggled. His desire to protect one of his oldest friends warred with his steadfast determination to respect the orders he'd been given, for despite the dismal odds of survival Nicholas possessed against Krampus, Stefan knew that the odds of himself surviving were even worse, even with an entire regiment of elves and yeti at his back. Additionally, though Nicholas would never admit it to any of them, attempting to face Krampus with a unit of elves to support him would only serve as a distraction, as he would have to divide his attention between battling Krampus and protecting his support.

Stefan ground his teeth at the thought, and he cursed himself for not being better so that Nicholas would not have to watch out for him if he joined him in his battle. If only they had…

Stefan's eyes snapped to the Doom Slayer in the next moment, and before he knew what he was doing, he charged into the remaining hordes of Krampus-kin, swinging his blade in broad strokes to clear a path to the Slayer. At first, his advance was quick and aggressive, but he had acted without thinking, and soon realized that he had separated himself from the main force, and was now entirely surrounded by dark elves and mechanical abominations.

In a second, Stefan was forced onto the defensive as dark creatures pressed in on him from all sides, recognizing him as the commander of the North Pole army. They knew despite their imminent oblivion that killing him would at least demoralize the North Pole army, and at most it would cause them to falter, opening up the opportunity for a counter attack. Stefan had been so blinded by his desire to reach the Slayer that he had not been thinking rationally, and such a mistake would now likely cost him his life.

The moment was averted, however, by the sudden arrival of the hellhound in a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder, far louder and brighter than any of the lightning that arced through the sky above. The light heralding its arrival had barely disappeared before the creature fell upon the nearest enemies, tearing their limbs from their bodies with its powerful jaws and crushing their bones with the weight behind its forceful tackles. Before Stefan could recover and help the creature, however, the hound turned its attention back to him and leapt to his side, clamping its jaws firmly around his wrist before teleporting them both away with another flash of light.

Stefan screwed his eyes shut at the sudden brilliance, then blinked rapidly as he emerged back onto the battlefield once more, though this time at the edge of the remaining forces of Krampus instead of in the center. His head felt dizzy, and he struggled for a moment to keep his balance as the world seemed to tilt ever so slightly.

Thankfully, the disorientation cleared up quickly, and Stefan met the hound's impatient gaze for a moment before nodding his thanks. The canine snorted once before returning to the fray, and Stefan made to join as well when he saw the Doom Slayer just a few meters away, the automatic rifle in his hands cutting down numerous Krampus-kin in a hail of gunfire.

"Doom Slayer!" Stefan called, running up beside him with his blade already in motion to strike at the nearest enemies. "Saint Nicholas cannot fight and win against Krampus alone! We have the situation here under control now! You've got to help him!"

The Slayer did not turn his head away from the carnage, but Stefan was sure that the armored man had heard him all the same. Within the Slayer's armor, a metallically cordial voice spoke up.

"It was the request of Saint Nicholas that neither his nor Krampus's forces be allowed to follow him," it said, the voice calm and collected and not at all what Stefan had expected the Slayer to sound like. And before Stefan could open his mouth to rebut, the voice continued.

"We, however, are not members of either side."

There was a beat of silence, then the Doom Slayer turned and gave Stefan a nod, signifying that they were in agreement. Stefan set his jaw and nodded in return, as there were no words to properly convey the gratitude he felt in that moment.

"We will depart immediately."

Then, before Stefan had any further chance to act, the hound had once again taken hold of him in its teeth. Lightning flashed in his face once again, and this time, Stefan had barely emerged from the teleportation before he collapsed onto one knee, the feeling of teleporting twice in such a short amount of time causing his head to spin rapidly now. Stefan fought back the urge to vomit as lightning struck once more with a loud boom, though he remained where he was this time.

A few seconds more, and Stefan felt well enough to stand once again, assisted by a few nearby elfish soldiers who had seen him arrive. As his vision cleared, Stefan looked around to catch sight of the hound, but saw no sign. It was likely that the second flash and boom had been the flaming canine leaving him behind.

"Commander!" came the voice of Helga, lieutenant of the third battalion. "The armored human is breaking off his engagement, and the demonic wolf has gone with him. Do we continue to press the attack?"

Stefan's bearing as a commander took over as he righted himself completely.

"Press forward!" he commanded. "The Slayer is moving to assist Saint Nicholas. Make sure no forces of Krampus follow him! Cut off their retreat!"

Taking up his sword yet again, Stefan let out a battle cry and led their charge anew against the broken line of Krampus-kin, determined not to let a single one escape their wrath tonight.

…

Nicholas skidded backwards, the snow and ice providing little traction as he struggled to remain upright. His momentum finally stopped when his back crashed hard against a large minivan, and the older man grunted in pain but refused to stop even for a moment, for if he did, he was dead.

The battle with Krampus had quickly outgrown the house they had first faced off in. The power shared between the two of them was so great that such a small space only served to confine them from using the full extent of their abilities. Though in hindsight, the house did not really do anything to "confine" them, as their battle had caused the building to collapse mere minutes after their battle began.

Out in the open, the two opposing entities were free to use as much of their power as they saw fit without restraint, and Nicholas was now witnessing firsthand just how much power Krampus truly possessed.

The holiday demon outclassed Nicholas in both strength and speed, and Nicholas now sported a few glancing injuries thanks to his underestimation of both of those characteristics. The hook, bell, and chain that Krampus was using as his main weapon often could only be seen as a blur for how fast it swung through the air, leaving Nicholas mostly reliant on his combat experience to guess where the weapon landed rather than react to it. In truth, it was Nicholas's superior usage of his weapon and his surroundings that had kept him alive thus far, as despite Krampus's physical might, the beast still lacked discipline and finesse with his weapon and style of fighting.

His movements were fast, but they were clunky and imprecise, and Krampus's lack of experience fighting enemies of his caliber made itself known in how he conducted himself in one on one combat. Movements were telegraphed, advantages were unknowingly given up, and usage of the terrain and environment were next to none when it came to Krampus. And it was thanks to these specific flaws that Nicholas had even managed to land a few blows of his own against the vile monster.

Some sort of blackish blood dripped from a wound that Nicholas imparted on Krampus's right shoulder, Rudolph striking true and cutting deep into the beast's flesh. The howl it had unleashed when wounded had been almost deafening to Nicholas, and unfortunately, Krampus had retaliated before he had gotten clear. A large claw wrapped in chains had struck Nicholas forcefully, jarring his body and sending him flying through the air, his form landing hard on the ice after crashing through the wall of another house.

The blow had cracked quite a few of Nicholas's ribs, making it painful to breathe, but Nicholas rose even still, his conviction to save Christmas making him forget his wounds.

Nicholas dodged to the left, just in time as the heavy iron bell at the end of Krampus's chain came down hard onto the minivan he had been leaning up against. The metal chassis screamed and caved in almost too eagerly to the force behind the attack, and the vehicle slumped and fell inward as the weapon crushed it completely.

It was hardly another moment before Krampus swung again, and this time, Nicholas had no choice but to deflect the blow with Rudolph, as the attack came too quickly for him to dodge. His body shuddered as the heavy bell clanged off the axehead, but Nicholas pressed forward as Krampus swung the bell for another strike. This time, Nicholas had ample time to duck under the attack, and he gripped Rudolph in two hands before raising it above his head to bring it down hard onto Krampus's form.

His axe blade met the cold iron of Krampus's hook as the demon blocked the attack, and the burst of power that resulted from the two weapons colliding blasted outward, kicking up snow and ice as though it had been blown by an incredibly strong tempest.

Nicholas grunted as his swing was halted, and in their sudden proximity, he could clearly see the goat-like eyes glowing behind Krampus's mask, which was in cruel imitation of Nicholas's own visage. Anger flared through him, and Nicholas broke the lock before spinning to gain momentum to strike again.

His anger giving him a burst of speed, Nicholas feinted a strike from the side, and Krampus took the bait, raising his hook in preparation for another block. At the last moment, Nicholas changed the direction of the swing, instead swinging widely from underneath with enough force to split Krampus's head open from the chin up if it landed.

The demon's speed saved it from certain death, and Krampus jerked his head back just in time to dodge the strike. The blade missed the monster's face by barely an inch, but it did not miss his mask, and Nicholas watched as the false face split in two from Rudolph's enhanced blade. The two halves sailed into the air in opposite directions, and Krampus howled and staggered back a step, clutching his face with one of its chain-wrapped claws.

Nicholas knew that now would be the time to press the advantage while the monster was distracted, but something held him in place. Whether it was shock or anger or curiosity, he would never know, but it compelled Nicholas to wait as Krampus slowly lowered the gnarled fingers that had clutched at his face.

Nicholas's heart almost seized with dread as he gazed upon the true face of the enemy of Christmas for the first time. It was a description he could not put into words, as to try and give form to the horror that had been revealed was an impossible task.

Wrong.

That was the word that Nicholas decided was the best description of what he saw before him. Everything about it was wrong. It shouldn't have existed, for it was so much more cruel and so much more malignant than anything else that existed on this Earth.

Nicholas did not have a chance to think more on the subject before Krampus bellowed and charged, swinging the hook and bell simultaneously now in its own fit of rage. In a flash, both ends of the chain were on a direct path to Nicholas's head, and by sheer instinct alone, Nicholas raised Rudolph and stopped their advance. Both the bell and hook wrapped tightly around the haft, and though Nicholas held on as tightly as he could, Krampus's strength prevailed, and Rudolph was wrenched from his grasp. With a triumphant howl, the beast flung the axe away, the deep red glow fading and then disappearing entirely as the veil of the blizzard enshrouded it.

Nicholas tried to move away, but Krampus charged once more, driving headfirst into Nicholas's midsection with an incredibly powerful headbutt. The hard and scored surface of Krampus's horns broke whatever ribs of Nicholas's that had already been cracked, and the breath was forced from his lungs as he flew backward from the force of the blow.

For numerous seconds, Nicholas experienced weightlessness as the wind whistled in his ears, and then he gave an agonized shout as his back slammed hard into the side of a snowplow. His wounds exploded in blossoms of anguish as he tumbled to the icy ground. The snowplow, despite being made of reinforced steel and designed to withstand the harshness of the winter environment, caved inward from the force of Nicholas's impact. Its designers had neglected to reinforce it against a possible strike from Santa Claus himself, and it was nearly wrenched in two as Father Christmas crumpled the chassis with his own body.

Nicholas's vision swam in excruciating pain as he hissed and struggled to breathe without making his pain worse. One of his arms might've been broken, but pain was coming in from every part of his body right now, and it was difficult to discern to what extent his body had been damaged.

Nicholas had managed to land propped up on his back against the snowplow that had been rendered into scrap metal behind him. And despite the sound of the wind and the searing agony, everything seemed to fade into the background as he heard the sound of chains clinking and clattering. Lifting his head slowly and looking upward, Nicholas watched with trepidation as the silhouette of Krampus lumbered slowly out of the snowfall. The hooked end of the chain whistled menacingly as it was swung in a lazy vertical circle, its tip periodically scrapping the snow off the ground as it whizzed past.

Nicholas struggled to his feet as Krampus nonchalantly drew closer, the two of them both knowing that the outcome had been all but decided. Without his weapon, Nicholas had no choice but to continue the fight with his bare fists. Up against Krampus's physical might, it would no doubt prove minimally effective.

Nicholas's breath came in short rasps as he struggled with the pain in his chest, and he used as much magic as he could muster to heal his body. Slowly, his ribs began to realign themselves, and his right arm, which he finally found to be fractured, began the accelerated process of healing, its pain growing as a result of the quickened pace.

By Nicholas's estimate, it would take his body only a minute or so to heal completely, but he doubted Krampus would let him have that. And even if the demon waited until his body was restored, Nicholas would still be exhausted, as such use of his magic was extremely taxing.

Even so, Nicholas raised his fists in a combative stance, ready to muster what little defense he could when Krampus chose to strike again. The monster rumbled again with a slow laughter at his effort, and now that Nicholas could see his face entirely, hearing the sound made for an even more odious experience.

The hooked chain began to spin faster as Krampus wound up for another blow, and with dismay, Nicholas realized that there was nothing he could do against it. He couldn't dodge, he couldn't block, he couldn't even find cover, for there was no time to duck behind the remnants of the large snow plow behind him.

Krampus seemed to know that as well, and the whistling grew in pitch and loudness as the chain swung faster and faster, its speed making its appearance closer to that of the blades of a propeller with the rate of its spin.

Over Krampus's shoulder, a faint red light suddenly appeared against the black wall of snow and ice, and Nicholas frowned at its sudden and anomalous appearance despite the fatal danger in front of him.

The light suddenly grew brighter, and in the next moment, Rudolph soared back into view, spinning end over end rapidly and in a straight line towards Krampus. Nicholas's eyes widened at the sight, the axe's rate of spin fast enough that the glowing red axe head took on the appearance of a glowing red disk.

With the momentum of a truck, the axe crashed into Krampus's exposed flank, and the monster stumbled forward as the weight of the throw threw him off balance. He howled in indignation and pain as Rudolph dug deep into his back, and then, following the axe, the Doom Slayer appeared, grabbing hold of the long haft and pulling with his herculean strength. Krampus roared as the axe kept its hold deep in his back, and with a great heave, the Slayer swung Krampus off his hooves and threw him down the street and away from Nicholas, wrenching Rudolph from the monster's back in a bloody exit as he did so.

The demon landed hard, and though he possessed the ability to heal with his magic like Nicholas, it would take at least a few minutes to fully heal from a wound as severe as the one the Slayer had just imparted upon him. It was now Krampus's turn to take his time to rise, and the Doom Slayer made good use of the time by approaching Nicholas where he stood slightly hunched over, holding Rudolph in an easy grip.

"It seems my debt to you only grows as this night continues," Nicholas croaked as he concentrated on healing his remaining wounds.

The Doom Slayer said nothing, only depositing Rudolph into Nicholas's hands before turning to face Krampus once more, readying a formidable-looking double barreled shotgun as he did so.

"No," Nicholas said, standing up straight now that his wounds were almost fully healed. "Krampus is my fight. I will not and cannot ask you to fight my battles for me, no matter your strength."

There was a meaning behind Nicholas's words that went unspoken, but as the Doom Slayer turned back to look at him, Nicholas knew somehow that he understood.

Krampus and Nicholas, despite being exact opposites in their ideals and what they stood for, were both given their strength by the same kind of magic. It was the magic that flowed from all living creatures and was given shape and purpose by the souls and emotions that they experienced. Nicholas represented the culmination of the kindness and wonder that humans shared amongst themselves in their greatest moments, and Krampus represented their bitterness and animosity; what humans were in their darkest of days.

Tonight, the two of them had directly opposed each other for the first time, and the resulting buildup of both of their magics had created a volatile bubble that threatened to pop at any outside interference. It was a culmination that Nicholas had not seen at first, but as their battle had continued, it had grown to incredible proportions, saturating the very air around them and feeding the ferocious storm that howled above.

Should one of them slay the other, the magical buildup would default to the victor, allowing them to harness the power of their defeated foe as well as their own and turn it to their own whim. If Nicholas were victorious, he could use the magic to right the wrongs Krampus had created on this night, and help foster the return of the Christmas Spirit into the hearts of all. If Krampus was victorious…

…Nicholas refused to think about what might occur.

Should one of them fall to an outside entity from beyond this world, however, then all of their magic would "explode", as the victor would be a being that was not inherently part of the magical ecosystem that existed in this world, and therefore incompatible with the magic that existed within it. Unable to be harnessed by anyone, the magic would break free in an uncontrollable torrent that would wreak havoc worldwide. The magic would overflow into living beings that were not equipped to handle such a high amount, and the results would be catastrophic. Horrible mutations, natural disasters, diseases of extreme potency, all life would undergo an extreme shift in reality.

Though the Doom Slayer was without a doubt capable of killing Krampus, his doing so would do more harm than good, and though the Slayer was not of this world, and therefore not capable of producing or harnessing the magic that existed, Nicholas knew that the Slayer could still sense it somehow. Both he and VEGA seemed to possess a keen sort of insight into the tangible and intangible, and though he may not have known the details, the Slayer could read Nicholas well enough that there was more at stake than simply placing himself in harm's way.

The Slayer lowered his shotgun, the motion done with a slight degree of stiffness due to the fact that the being he intended to use it on was still alive. A glance over Nicholas's form seemed to create another conclusion in the Slayer's mind, and he then produced a glass soda bottle filled with a bright green liquid. The label, which was of a similar green to the soda itself, read: "Speed Cola."

"If you are unable to utilize the Slayer's direct assistance," VEGA's voice began. "then please accept what assistance we can provide, as I am not confident that you will be successful without it."

Those words coming from anyone else would have carried the morbidity of Nicholas's obvious disadvantage against Krampus, but from VEGA, they only portrayed a genuine desire to assist, and Nicholas almost found them comforting as he accepted the bottle. His magic whispered to him as he opened the bottle with a soft popping noise, speaking again of the ancient and exceedingly powerful nature of the Doom Slayer. There were even quieter whispers among them this time, however, and though he could only barely hear them, he could have sworn he heard the word, "Father" sprinkled among their phrases. It was stranger still that the whispers spoke with a different and more melancholy tone, as if they were not speaking of the Slayer…

The whispers quieted as the hellhound arrived on the scene, trotting around the wreckage of the snowplow instead of teleporting directly to the two of them.

The flaming canine fixed its glowing eyes on Krampus's slowly rising form, then bared its teeth and growled in anticipation. The Slayer looked down at the creature, then looked back to Nicholas pointedly, and though not a word was spoken, Nicholas knew that the Slayer was prompting him to allow the hellhound to fight at his side.

Nicholas's first reaction was to refuse, as the hound was also not of this world, and would therefore cause a similar magical calamity were it to be the one to kill Krampus. Then his tactical mind spoke next, reminding him that the hellhound was intelligent, meaning that it could also understand why Nicholas would need to be the one to slay Krampus. He was also reminded of the extreme agility the creature possessed, and how it was formidable enough to hold its own in combat without needing to be looked after. This was even before one took into account its teleportation abilities.

The hellhound watched intently as the Doom Slayer gestured to Nicholas, then shook its fur in understanding, a few embers shaking loose and landing like fiery snowflakes on the icy street. Maneuvering to stand next to Nicholas, the hound looked up at him expectantly, conveying the message that it would follow his lead.

Nicholas looked between the two of them for a moment, then back to Krampus, who had finally risen back to his full height once again. Their gazes locked, and for the first time, Nicholas didn't feel the same frightening dread he had felt before when gazing upon the face of his enemy. Instead, anticipation took its place, and Nicholas set his jaw before downing the contents of the green soda bottle.

The cola had an oddly spiced flavor, but Nicholas paid it no mind as he put the bottle aside and stepped forward, the hellhound mirroring his movements.

Krampus started forward as well, his demonic eyes taking note of the fact that the hellhound was at Nicholas's side while the Slayer stayed behind. The vile eyes narrowed and lingered at the sight of the armored human, and Nicholas had no doubt that Krampus's magic was whispering to him as well, speaking of the Slayer and the power he wielded just as it had to Nicholas. Something else flashed behind the demon's eyes as well, but it was gone before Nicholas could look further.

Krampus returned his focus to Nicholas soon enough, and with a low growl, the chain in his gnarled claws began to swing once again, and this time Nicholas noticed something. Though the chain was once again swinging at an extreme speed thanks to Krampus's strength, it felt slower than before for some reason. Nicholas noticed that his eyes were still able to track the chain's movement as it whirled through the air, and after a moment, he realized that it wasn't just the chain that had appeared to be slower. The very snowfall around them seemed to be less chaotic and easier to see through, and Nicholas suddenly found himself much more capable of making out details and subtle changes in the world as they occurred in real time.

Nicholas then remembered the green soda he had consumed moments ago, and he realized that it was not the world around him that had changed. Whatever it was that he drank had sharpened his senses, allowing him to easily focus on the finer details of the world and process them at greater speed within his mind. His focus, his coordination, his reflexes…all were heightened beyond their maximum, and with his newfound perception, Nicholas felt his anticipation give way to steadfast confidence. The hellhound echoed his sentiment, the fire on its back growing brighter and hotter as they drew closer to their foe.

There was the slightest twitch in Krampus's wrist, then the heavy iron hook whipped forward, the sharpened point greedy for purchase somewhere in Nicholas's flesh. It was fast, so fast that Nicholas would have only been able to block the strike before. But now? Now he had known the blow was coming before the hook had even started its trajectory, and Nicholas was in motion long before the hook cut through the air he'd been standing in mere moments before.

Bringing Rudolph to bear, Nicholas summoned his will and filled the axehead with it, red running brightly through the runed surface. The cola had the additional effect of increasing his confidence with the weapon, and so much stronger was their bond that Nicholas could hear the wisps of intelligent thought as words in his mind as the red energy culminated at last.

Strike.

No movement was wasted. It was as though his will was one with that of his weapon, and together, they cleaved through the long stretch of chain in the monster's fingers, cutting directly through the links and causing the hooked end to come free. The hook, as well as nearly two meters of the vile chain, flew through the air and out of sight, the point of their severance glowing white hot from the heat where Rudolph had cleaved through.

Nicholas followed through with the swing and spun with the momentum, gaining speed for a follow up strike on the other end of the chain. Krampus, still possessing greater speed than he, reached out with his claws bared to stop him, but the hellhound warped forward and clamped its jaws down hard, disrupting the attack and throwing Krampus off balance. The demon's indignant cry was cut off as Nicholas severed the other end of the chain weapon as well, the heavy bell thudding to the ground with a dull clang.

Krampus had little time to mourn the loss of his weapon, as Nicholas and the hound pressed the attack with a coordination that could only be seen between two experienced warriors. Nicholas, with his newfound reflexes and attention to detail, made precision strikes with Rudolph that grew more potent with every swing. Attacks were all deliberately aimed at weak points, and blocks and deflections were calculated with such timing that they almost seemed to happen by accident. Many times, Nicholas found the foresight to swing for an attack while perfectly timing the position of Rudolph so as to interrupt Krampus's own attacks mid-swing. It was a clarity that Nicholas had never experienced in battle before, and every motion he made felt natural, expected even, like a sunrise or the falling of leaves in autumn. Despite fighting for the very existence of Christmas itself, Nicholas felt unexpectedly peaceful for the first time that night.

All this was accentuated by the presence of the hellhound, who moved in tandem to balance or strengthen Nicholas's assault as the situation changed. The canine seemed wholly aware of the power and speed that Krampus possessed, and the four-legged creature utilized its abilities accordingly, careful not to overextend its own attacks lest it be struck by hoof or claw. And yet, its impact on the fight was immense, as it provided Nicholas with plenty of openings to rend his foe…

…and Nicholas capitalized on every single one.

Hardly minutes had passed before Krampus became desperate. Nicholas had just removed one of the demon's horns from its head with a clean swing of his axe when Krampus bellowed and forced the two of them back with a forceful push of his own vile magic. Nicholas crossed his arms in protection and was hardly buffeted at all by the attack, though he knew that the attack had the primary purpose of pushing him away versus wounding him.

Skidding backward a few meters, Nicholas met Krampus's gaze once more to see that the demon was drawing upon its last reserves, exhausting whatever stamina remained in favor of utilizing some of its most powerful magical attacks.

Contrary to the warm red of Nicholas's own magic, Krampus's magic wreathed through his claws in a dark, deep blue that was tinted with black. The air grew colder still as Krampus's inner power manifested itself physically, but Nicholas did not shiver. A look over Krampus's wounded and heaving form told him that this battle was nearing its end. Yes, Krampus had just drastically increased in lethality, but in doing so, the monster was burning through the last of his magical power. It showed just how much the demon's back was against the wall, and it had favored one final powerful push instead of pacing himself to reserve his stamina.

Standing to meet the challenge, Nicholas held out a halting arm to the hellhound, who seemed annoyed for the briefest of moments, then finally relented with a soft grunt, stepping back and disengaging from the encounter. From here on out, this fight was Nicholas's and Nicholas's alone.

Summoning his will, Nicholas pulled deeply from his magic, channeling it not just through Rudolph, but through his entire body as well. His form illuminated brightly with a strong red glow, and Nicholas felt the power surge through his muscles and skin, granting additional power everywhere it reached.

Using his magic in this way was extremely taxing, but Nicholas would need it to face Krampus now, as the beast had done the same with his own magic. As of this moment, the chips were down. It was time to end this.

Nicholas charged, his now-enhanced speed complimenting the benefits he had received from the cola, and though Krampus's speed still outmatched his own, it gave no advantage against Nicholas's skill.

Sparks crackled each time the two clashed, the air constantly charged by the similar yet conflicting energies the two of them possessed. Rudolph's powerful hum had risen to that of a hiss as it seared with power, and Nicholas shared in its stoic excitement as he traded blows with Krampus once more. Above them, the storm reached its climax as well, lighting and thunder dominating the blizzard as the heavens split apart above them all.

Nicholas's brow furrowed as he parried and struck, his calculating eyes searching for the opening he needed to end this once and for all. Flurries of snow and ice encircled the two as they continued to fight, the very earth itself invested in the outcome of their conflict.

There.

Nicholas heard Rudolph in his mind, and in a split second, he saw it. Krampus was almost on fumes now, and the monster was growing more bold in his movements, attempting to land a decisive hit on Nicholas before his power was exhausted completely. He was on the verge of overextending himself.

In the next moment, he did. Krampus roared and swung his claw in a powerful but extremely sluggish and telegraphed blow. With Nicholas's newfound reflexes, the monster may as well have told him that the attack was coming. Nicholas ducked with time to spare as Krampus's claw sailed harmlessly over his head, and spinning the axe, Nicholas struck the back of Krampus's swinging arm with the flat of the blade, imparting additional momentum to the swing and causing Krampus to stumble.

The axe never stopped moving, and as Krampus struggled to regain his balance, Nicholas buried Rudolph deep into the back of the demon's exposed knee, eliciting a deep roar from Krampus and causing the limb to crumple.

There was no hesitation as Nicholas wrenched the axe free and moved to the other side, sweeping wide to build up his speed before swinging for the back of Krampus's other knee, this time with such force that the limb was sliced through completely, severing Krampus's leg at the base of the knee and causing his lumbering form to topple completely.

Nicholas rushed back to Krampus's front, the two of them almost eye level now that the beast had fallen onto his knees, or rather, what was left of them. The monster roared and swung at him again despite its wounds, but the movement was slow and weak, and Nicholas severed the arm that reached for him, locking eyes with Krampus for the briefest of moments. Hatred and anger was all that glowed behind the sockets, and the two entities regarded each other with one last glance before Nicholas swung Rudolph high, separating Krampus's head from his shoulders.

As if turned off by a switch, the wind suddenly ceased, snowfall suddenly slowing to the pace of dripping molasses as the lighting and the thunder disappeared as well.

All was eerily still.

Not a creature dared to stir, not even a mouse.

And then, as if delayed by surprise, the buildup of magic that had gathered in this town all fell inward, recognizing Nicholas as the victor and falling under his command. Nicholas drew in a sharp breath at the overwhelming surge he felt through his being as he commanded the might of Krampus's magic in tandem with his own. The cold prickle of Krampus's power was purified as Nicholas shaped it to his will, and once he had a chance to adjust, Nicholas raised Rudolph high into the air, a sharp red beam of light bursting from the axe and straight upward into the night sky. The harsh blizzard immediately abated, the might of Nicholas's newfound power banishing the storm entirely, replacing the thunder and lightning with a gentle snowfall all throughout the town.

Lowering his axe at last, Nicholas turned to the sounds of footsteps approaching through the snow. His eyes fell upon the Doom Slayer and the hellhound as they approached, both leaving behind a sizable pile of corpses behind them. It seemed that Krampus had left some of his force as a reserve contingency to ambush Nicholas should he appear to gain the upper hand, and they had both encountered the Slayer and the hound in their mission to aid their master. The results spoke for themselves.

Nicholas gave a nod to them both as they approached, then turned to see a large contingent of his own army arriving as well, Stefan at the head of the formation.

"Sir!" his commander called, his eyes wide as he took in Nicholas's ambient glow and Krampus's headless form laying nearby.

"Wha–?"

"Explanations will have to wait, commander…" Nicholas said, striding forward. "...for Christmas is almost upon us, and there is much left to do."

…

Nicholas stood stoically on a hill, the same one he had stood atop mere hours ago. Though his eyes were once again surveying the town below, they were doing so with pride and appreciation for his forces, as their efforts had almost erased any sign that Krampus had been there that night.

After gathering the army of the North Pole, Nicholas had dispatched many back to their rescue efforts, and others still to the process of gathering the dead and clearing the signs of carnage from the streets. In this manner, Nicholas also lent his newfound abilities, using the abundance of magic he possessed to remove the corpses and carrion from the town. He also utilized the magic to repair the damage that had been done to the infrastructure as well, his power potent enough to repair houses and vehicles in the blink of an eye.

All was done with a somber tone, however, as their victory on this night had not come without great sacrifice. Numerous elves had fallen to the hordes of Krampus, and their losses here were bolstered further by many yeti, polar bears, and reindeer, and Nicholas felt guilt grip his conscience as he assisted in the proper removal and care of their fallen comrades.

To add even more sorrow, Nicholas soon discovered that their losses extended beyond that of their own forces as well, as it quickly became known that a great number of residents of the town had been taken by Krampus before Nicholas's arrival. Just as he had before, the holiday demon had whisked away as many denizens of the town as he could, and just as before, Nicholas had no way of knowing where they had gone. There was no trace, no signs, no—

Nicholas stopped his train of thought as his magic began to whisper to him again. It spoke of a place where Krampus's magic still lingered, a hidden location that the monster retreated to when the holiday season ended. Alike and yet still opposite to Nicholas, Krampus had his own workshop where he crafted his cruel and vile imitations of Nicholas's toys and gifts, and with a start, Nicholas realized that those that had gone missing might be found there, and with not a second to waste, Nicholas left the town in Stefan's capable hands and took to the skies, pausing only to bring the Doom Slayer and VEGA with him.

The speed of Nicholas's flying sleigh was unmatched by any vessel crafted by humanity, and within no time at all, they had arrived at the location his magic had spoken of: the Antarctic.

The magic led them to a cave deeply nested in the ice-covered mountains, and it was there that Nicholas finally laid eyes on Krampus's nightmare workshop. Huge machines churned out black smoke and gave form to the hellacious nightmares that Krampus used in his plight, and though the workshop was nearly empty, Nicholas and the Doom Slayer encountered a skeleton guard of dark elves and golems, which were dealt with swiftly.

It was when they finally made their way to the rear of the cave that Nicholas found what it was he'd been looking for, though unfortunately, he was unprepared for the horror that he discovered.

The first thing that both he and the Slayer encountered was a dark room filled with snow globes, each one a window into the lives and souls of families found throughout the world. Krampus, in his twisted mind, had crafted each snowglobe as a means to find and sow discord and sorrow into the hearts of humanity, and looking at each globe gave Nicholas a pang in his chest as he recognized each and every family that had been placed under Krampus's watchful eye.

As horrid as the discovery was, it paled in comparison to what they discovered next. The Doom Slayer uncovered it through a hidden door in the back of the room full of snow globes, and there, behind the rock and stone, Nicholas uncovered the truth behind the disappearances.

There, hung on the walls and spread across the cavern they found, were texts and scrolls thousands of years older than Nicholas himself. Written in a dialogue that predated this planet, the strange documents held both descriptions and depictions of an ancient technique, one that Nicholas saw to be cruel and spiteful based on the pictures he saw. Images of humans being tortured and enslaved by demonic creatures were spread all across the tablets, and after careful examination, Nicholas realized with horror what became of those humans that Krampus stole.

Nicholas could not understand the details, but nor did he want to, for the process laid out in these ancient documents was despicable beyond measure. From what Nicholas understood, the procedure facilitated the removal of the human soul from the body by way of hellacious torture.

The body, devoid of its aura, became subject to the molding of its form, and with a grim realization, Nicholas remembered that a few of the machines that churned within this nightmare workshop matched the ones in the depiction.

The aura, devoid of its body, was also capable of becoming corrupted, and with no small amount of torture and conditioning, could be repurposed to the will of its evulsor, and implemented into another form, organic or inorganic.

The dark elves…the golems…all of those abominations that had walked the battlefield tonight…

Nicholas felt hollow as everything was suddenly made clear. Krampus's entire workshop, every machine and worker, all existed for the purpose of increasing his hordes of the damned. For millennia, the holiday demon had captured humans for their souls and bodies, corrupting the latter into the forms of his dark elves, and twisting the former into the life forces that powered his evil toys and automatons. And these…these texts all older than perhaps even Krampus…were the blueprints that made it so.

Nicholas spared a glance to the Doom slayer, and was taken aback when he saw angered recognition in the armored man's movements. The human clenched his hands in rage at the texts he saw before him, and Nicholas's eyes unthinkingly flitted between the documents and the mark etched on the Slayers helm. That symbol was a direct match to a few others that could be found on the scrolls.

"These texts…do you recognize them?" Nicholas asked gravely.

"I cannot speak for the Doom Slayer," VEGA replied. "However, many of these documents are similar in format and lexicon to that of relics recovered from the Hell of our home dimension."

"That would mean…" Nicholas said almost in a whisper. "...that Krampus was…"

"I do not possess enough evidence to make a conclusive statement on the origins of Krampus," VEGA continued. "But the presence of these documents does strongly suggest that he was a demon from our Hell. There exist many flaws to this theory, however."

"How do you mean?"

"While Krampus did indeed possess similar traits to the demons we are familiar with," VEGA began. "There were still many irregularities to his form, though this does not mean that he did not originate from our Hell, as there are still many subspecies of demon yet to be discovered."

Nicholas's brow furrowed as the A.I. continued.

"The largest flaw in the theory is that the circumstances do not match the typical behavior of the demons from our dimension's Hell. Typical Hell invasions are large in scale, and are not done clandestinely by a single demon. This inconsistency also does not disprove the theory, however, as the demon may have somehow arrived here by accident. And it does little to help us understand how it obtained documents with the seal of the Night Sentinels."

The name "Night Sentinels" meant nothing to Nicholas, but before he could inquire further, the Doom Slayer knelt down and picked up one smaller scroll that had been discarded and cast into the corner of the room, obviously found to be worthless by Krampus when it had been in his possession.

Moving closer to inspect the scroll as well, Nicholas squinted in the dim candlelight to see that it was also a sort of blueprint like the others, though this one was for something far smaller in scale, and though Nicholas still could not read the text associated with the depictions, he had spent the equivalent of countless human lifetimes learning and perfecting his trade as Santa Claus, and he was smart enough to know the design of a weapon when he saw one.

A glance at how the Slayer regarded this smaller scroll was enough for Nicholas to make up his mind, and though it was difficult to find something to smile about in this wretched place, Nicholas felt the beginnings of one pull at his lips at the idea that began to form in his mind.

"Come with me, Slayer. Let us leave this place in flames and be off. Christmas is almost upon us, and there is still much left to be done."

…

It was short and eager work for the Doom Slayer and Nicholas to destroy Krampus's odious workshop, and in the process, they had discovered with great relief that the most recent batch of humans that Krampus had captured were still alive, and using the full extent of Nicholas's magic, they were whisked away from that awful place and returned to their homes. That night, Nicholas cast a deep and powerful sleep over all the town's residents, and with that deep slumber, Nicholas eased their tortured memories from their minds, erasing all thoughts of Krampus and what had almost become of them had the demon been successful on that fateful Christmas Eve.

His work had finished just minutes short of midnight, and though exhaustion was felt by all members of his army, there was no time to rest, as it was once again time for Nicholas to deliver his gifts across the globe. His sleigh was loaded in record time with the assistance of the yeti and the Slayer, and shortly, Nicholas was airborne, the grand feeling of once again delivering gifts to the world warmed his heart like no other.

The sense of familiarity pushed the thoughts of the night's battle from Nicholas's mind, and it wasn't until it was time to deliver his gifts to the town where the battle had occurred that they returned. Unconsciously, Nicholas had left this specific neighborhood for last, and the only gifts that remained in his sleigh were for the residents below as he flew over the site.

Looking down, Nicholas was pleased to see that not a trace remained of their battle, and he took comfort in the fact that the residents of the town would not have to live with the grim memory for the rest of their lives. Despite the ill will and darkness within their hearts that had fostered Krampus's arrival in the first place, they still did not deserve the horrid fate that Krampus had planned for them. It was with this in mind that Nicholas took extra care to move silently throughout each house, taking extra care to ensure that he did not disturb the deep slumber he had induced in each and every one of them. Undisturbed, they would all remain sound asleep until the sun rose on Christmas Day. Thankfully, Nicholas was certain that the greatest of disturbances that could be found on this night had been soundly defeated. And with a sense of satisfaction, Nicholas shimmied easily down the final chimney, the last of the gifts safely secured in his sack. With hardly a sound, Nicholas's boots landed on the brickwork that constituted the bottom of the hearth, and though the overhand was low, Nicholas effortlessly ducked his head and stepped into the living room of the last house on the block.

Nicholas was stunned for a moment, as this was the exact same room where he'd first come face to face with Krampus mere hours ago. The room had been restored to the polished feeling it had once held before Krampus's arrival, soft and colorful stockings were hung from the mantlepiece, complimented by a beautifully decorated wreath acting as the centerpiece of the chimney decor, though the large ornament was by no means the centerpiece of the entire room. That honor was reserved for the tree, bright and prominent among all other Christmas decorations in the room. Nicholas admired the tree for a moment, relishing in taking a moment alone to—

Nicholas froze. He wasn't alone.

Someone was in the room with him.

Someone was looking at him.

Slowly, Nicholas turned, and all the anticipation he had felt up until that moment dissipated completely when he saw none other than Omi's own kind eyes on his own from where she stood in front of the couch by the fire.

For a brief second, Nicholas wondered how his magic had overlooked her and not sent her into a deep sleep like the rest of her family upstairs. But he then remembered, his magic had been used to erase the memories of Krampus only on this night, and Krampus, as Nicholas knew all too well, had visited Omi once before…

…

Nicholas felt a weight on his shoulders like he never had before, a weight that dragged his heart to the depths of cold and ice as he bore witness to the destruction before him. It had been a wonderful Christmas, just like any other, and he had been on his usual route delivering gifts. He had felt happy, excited even, as he neared the next village. But as he drew closer, Nicholas felt a chill like an icicle drive into his chest as he felt the magic in the air. Magic that was never a good sign.

Krampus.

Nicholas's worst fears were confirmed as he flew above the town, the already war-torn village reduced to even further until very few structures remained intact. The air tasted of a blizzard that was abating at last, and Nicholas knew that the blizzard had not come by natural means. Krampus had been here, and recently.

But that should have been impossible. Nicholas had dispatched two elfish informants to this village when it was first founded nearly two-hundred years ago. Karl and Ilse, two well-trained and motivated operatives, should have immediately sounded the alarm upon learning that the demon had come. And yet, the North Pole had heard nothing but reports of good tidings from the village, the messages telling of how the Spirit of Christmas was still alive and well within the community.

Such reports did not match the sight that greeted Nicholas below, and reinforcements were called for at once.

Stefan and a small company of elves were on the scene within minutes, and together, Nicholas worked with them to sweep through the town, visiting the ruined buildings to search for any survivors and the fate of the elves stationed here.

The elves were found rather quickly, though that had been by design. As it were, Krampus had wanted Santa and his elves to find their missing helpers, and Nicholas was stricken with grief and anger when they discovered their bodies.

Dressed in fake white beards and bright red stocking caps as a mockery to Nicholas, both Karl and Ilse were discovered within the town square, their bodies swinging from cages that were hoisted from the destroyed church with barbed chains. A few of the elfish troops became physically ill at the sight, and Nicholas did not blame them. Such desecration was beneath that of even the most detestable of humans, but for Krampus, it was all just some sick game. The demon had known that Nicholas would arrive in this village eventually, and he had left behind as much trauma as he could to remind Nicholas and his elves just how dangerous he could be. His humor was also cruel and wicked, and he could not resist toying with his victims as well as his enemies.

Nicholas cleaned up the bodies using his magic, taking extra care to treat them with reverence. They continued their search for survivors, but their spirit had diminished greatly, the reality of the situation settling heavily upon all of them.

Nicholas walked in a haze, his mind awash with guilt as he struggled to consider what he could have done differently. How could he have let this village grow so cold? How could he have better trained his informants so that they wouldn't be discovered by Krampus? What could prevent such a dark fate from befalling the other villages as well?

Nicholas was pulled from his thoughts as he heard a muffled crying from the house he was walking past, and away to the source he flew like a flash.

There, curled up with tears streaming down her cheeks, sat a little girl within the remnants of a once joyful Christmas household. In front of the tarnished chimney, the girl sat, her eyes periodically looking up to the destroyed flue in fear that something would come through at any moment.

She was just over seven years old, and Nicholas knew her name, the names of her parents, and the names of her grandparents as well. He knew almost everything about the little girl, though on this night, it was a burden more than a blessing. A piece of lingering magic spoke to Nicholas as he watched her for a moment, speaking of the ill-will that had been sown into the hearts of all on that Christmas season, the girl's own young heart included. Whether fostered by Krampus's own meddling or without, Nicholas knew that in the end, it was humanity that was always the best defense against Krampus. In darkened times, hope and cheer was something that could always be given to others, and it only took a spark, one small flame against the gloom, to fan the embers of good will that always resided within the world.

Nicholas sensed that spark within this young girl, and though it had been snuffed out by those around her this Christmas season, Nicholas still felt his heart go out to her, as it was hearts like hers that had the greatest capacity to spread cheer and joy.

Nicholas spoke softly to the young girl, careful not to startle her as she turned her tearstained features toward him. Noting her to be dressed only in a nightgown, Nicholas shouldered off his heavy red coat and offered it to her. At first, the girl was hesitant and distrustful of Nicholas, as she certainly had every right to be, but the prospect of warmth against the cold that gripped her body and soul enticed her forward, and through his magic, Nicholas shrank the coat down in size so that it fit her perfectly.

The girl was obviously warmed by the magical garment, but she was still skeptical of Nicholas, and as he slowly worked to ease her fears and make her feel safe, Nicholas took note of the small bauble that she held tightly in her hands. He recognized it immediately.

It was a small, iron bell, a calling card that Nicholas had seen many times before when Christmas was forsaken and belief was forgotten. Krampus left them behind as a reminder, much like he had done with the elves outside, that he was still there and waiting, for Krampus drank deeply off of the fear of those that believed in him.

Nicholas made no move to separate the young girl from the bell, though his brow furrowed for the briefest of moments as he read Krampus's name etched along the side.

The girl, at last getting over her initial shock at seeing Nicholas, began to cry once more, the loss of her mother and father fresh on her mind and eliciting trauma that no child should ever have had to bear.

Nicholas's heart went out to her, and he soothed her as best as he knew how with his words while simultaneously lulling the young girl into a deep sleep with his magic. This tortured house was no place for her to remain, and soon enough, the young girl cried herself out, her eyelids drooping heavily as Nicholas's magic took effect.

With gentle urging, Nicholas took the girl's small hand in his own and led her outside, carefully exiting through the rear entrance of the home so that she could not see the devastation that extended beyond her own front door.

He helped her climb carefully into his sleigh, and it was not long before she sat down that she had curled up and fell into a deep slumber, Nicholas's coat protecting her from the cold wind that still lingered in this dark place.

Nicholas left her side only for the briefest moments to give lasting orders to Stefan and the rest, then took to the skies, making his way to the nearby village where relatives of the young girl lived. He would leave her with them, and though she would likely dismiss the image of Nicholas as a dream in the upcoming days, the memory of Krampus would always be seared into her mind, the small bell still clutched in her fingers a constant reminder of his wrath. Krampus himself had even gone so far as to use his own magic on her to ensure that this night would never be forgotten, leaving Nicholas helpless to help alleviate her pain.

The best he could hope for was that the girl would turn her pain into strength, and would use that spark he knew she possessed to stir the hearts of others in the future. Perhaps, with the help of her and those like her, Nicholas could prevent the tragedy of this Christmas from ever repeating itself.

…

And now, standing before Omi all of those years later, Nicholas knew that Omi had seen far too much to forget what Krampus had been, but she also remembered Nicholas now too, and with her hands folded reverently in front of her, Omi spoke.

"I always thought that I had dreamed you up, Weihnachtsmann," Omi said, speaking entirely in her native language. "That you were nothing more than a trick of my mind to explain how I was delivered from my village that night."

"Perhaps it is better that you think of me as an apparition now as well," Nicholas said with a smile. "I am afraid the years have not been kind to my appearance."

In truth, Nicholas's appearance had changed very little for a few thousand years now, and the joke earned a genuine smile from Omi.

"You are just how I remembered you, though it was the warmth I remember above all else."

Omi gestured to Nicholas's coat which she still wore around her shoulders from when Nicholas had given it to her a few hours before. It was the same coat that had given her warmth the night Krampus had taken her village all those years ago. She made to return the coat to him now, but Nicholas stopped her with a gentle raise of his hand.

"A gift," he said simply. "I left nothing to remember me by when you were young, so let me leave you something now."

Omi smiled gratefully, but then her gaze turned somber as she fished a small object from her pocket. Nicholas knew what it was before she revealed it, and it was no surprise to him as he laid eyes once again on the small bell that Omi had held onto for all these years. Yet now, the bell had changed. A long crack split the metal right over where Krampus's name was etched into the darkened iron, perhaps generated the moment the beast fell.

Omi looked from the bell to him, her eyes searching for an answer, and after a moment, Nicholas nodded.

"Krampus is gone," he said. "For the time being, he is defeated."

Omi understood more than anyone else what Nicholas meant. She did not understand the nature of the magic of this world, but she did understand humanity. Krampus, while indeed dead on this night at the hands of Nicholas, was not the ultimate source of suffering any more than Nicholas was the ultimate source of joy and holiday cheer. The two of them were simply avatars, vessels that reflected what laid beneath the skin of humanity. All Nicholas had done was simply destroy the personification of what still remained. And while humanity could indeed breathe easy for a while now that Krampus was gone, Nicholas knew that eventually, a replacement would make themselves known. It was not likely to be a demon, as it had been before, but likely a human like Nicholas had once been, empowered by the dark and twisted nature of humanity and rising up to oppose Nicholas like its predecessor had done before.

No, to truly be rid of Krampus, people like Omi were needed, people who understood the meaning of giving and self-sacrifice, and just how much more potent those things were than selfishness and greed. They were the true keepers of the Spirit of Christmas, and though Nicholas would always be there to foster their joy in what ways he knew how, it was ultimately up to them to keep the magic flowing.

Omi knew this, as she had twice now seen firsthand what became of those that succumbed to the darkness. Without them, humanity was lost, doomed to wallow in a cycle of self-destruction and pain, but with them, they flourished, amplifying their strengths and overcoming their weaknesses in ways that astounded Nicholas to this day.

"My grandson still believes in you," Omi said, pulling out another object from her pocket. This time, it was a small envelope, and she handed it to Nicholas carefully, obviously believing the contents to be of great importance.

Nicholas smiled again, as he already knew what was within, and he broke the seal and opened the envelope, revealing a collection of paper scraps within. The paper scraps were covered with hand-written words, and Nicholas summoned his will and used his magic to coax the paper scraps from the envelope. The fluttering pieces billowed about as though they were leaves floating on the breeze, and as the fire crackled within the hearth, Nicholas willed the scraps back together, this time reassembling into the one whole sheet they had once been.

It was a letter.

But it was not just any letter. No, this letter was addressed to Nicholas himself from a young boy that he knew quite well.

Max was his name, and though he was subject to mischief and careless curiosity like so many other children his age, Nicholas had always found him to be pure of heart, and that thought was only proven correct as Nicholas read the letter in its entirety. The letter, like so many others addressed to Nicholas during this time of year, spoke of hardship. But Max's was different, as it spoke of not only his own, but that of his family's, and it went on to beseech Nicholas for his help for not just Max, but for his family and relatives as well. He, just like Omi, possessed the spark that the world so desperately needed.

"Well now, this is quite the wishlist," Nicholas said. Omi gave a somber nod, knowing that all that Max had wished for was for his family to be happy again.

"It seems, however, that young Max has asked me to give that which he has more than enough capacity to give for himself."

Omi's smile returned as Nicholas spoke, as she understood wholeheartedly in a way that Nicholas knew that she would. These things that Max desired…for his parents to love each other once again…for him and his sister to get along better…for help with his aunt and uncle and cousins…all of these wishes were things that were not Nicholas's to give. It was up to Max, and his growing spark of goodwill and belief, to foster the peace and love he wished to see in others…

…but that didn't mean that Nicholas could lend a helping hand.

With a knowing smile, Nicholas turned without a word and went straight to his work, removing the last of his presents from his sack and tucking them safely under the tree to be opened on Christmas morning by Omi's family. Once they all rested comfortably under the lighted branches, Nicholas turned back to Omi, and with a flick of his wrist, produced a paper and quill of his own, penning down a letter addressed to Max and Max alone. Nicholas spoke of the Spirit of Christmas, and that the true gifts of the season did not come from Nicholas, but rather, from those that you cared for, and more often than not, true giving did not come in the form of something you could wrap up in a package. Though the boy was still young and learning the ways of the world, Nicholas did not doubt that he would understand.

With his letter complete, Nicholas produced a wax seal and stamped the letter right next to his signature, and once it was enveloped and sealed, carefully gave it to Omi.

"Let's hope they still teach cursive in schools…" Nicholas joked with a wink as Omi gratefully accepted the letter. "Otherwise, it might be New Year's before he reads all the way through it."

Omi's laugh was genuine, and before Nicholas could turn to leave, she embraced him and squeezed him tight with a strength that defied her years. Nicholas was gentle in returning her hug, and he smiled as the wide eyed little girl from all those years ago resurfaced, her belief in Christmas and miracles shining brightly from the depths of her soul.

He held her for a long moment, then slowly released her, wishing her one last Merry Christmas before shimming back up the chimney and starting for home. To the east, the sky was just beginning to illuminate with the light of Christmas Morning, and though his route had been completed, Nicholas still had one more gift to give before he could rest.

…

Upon his return to the North Pole, Nicholas was immediately greeted by Stefan, who rushed out to greet him before he entered the workshop proper.

"Santa! I'm sorry! I tried to…They just took over!"

Nicholas was confused by Stefan's urgent and nervous tone, and only upon entering his workshop did he fully understand.

It seemed that during Nicholas's absence, their guests had decided to make themselves at home.

The first thing Nicholas noticed was the hellhound, which was currently mingling and getting to know the magical wolverines that existed in the vicinity of the workshop. Usually reclusive, the larger-than-normal canines had been drawn in by the strange presence of the demon dog, and funnily enough, the two species of supernatural creatures seemed to be getting along well, even playing and roughhousing in the snowy courtyard outside the main workshop. The stark white fur of the creatures was in deep contrast to the jet black and fiery hide that the hellhound possessed, and that was just the tip of the iceberg when comparing their physical differences.

Despite all of this, however, Nicholas was relatively unperturbed until he stepped through the large doors that marked the entrance to the toy-making facility.

VEGA, in his ever-present desire to assist, had seen fit to revolutionize Nicholas's entire operation. There, on a massive screen that constituted the main announcement board above the workbenches and machines, VEGA had awed the elves with figures and statistics that promised to double or even triple their outputs with almost half the materials. As a result, the entire workshop was now unrecognizable, as VEGA's ideas had been taken immediately to heart by the elves, and they had enthusiastically rearranged the layout of the floor and had also begun work on new tools and fabrication methods that promised far greater quality of toys and gifts.

"I tried to speak up," Stefan said, an uncharacteristic nervousness seeping into the voice of Nicholas's second in command. "But, I must admit that he had some pretty good ideas."

Nicholas had not yet spoken, for even he felt a bit sheepish at what VEGA had accomplished in such a short amount of time. The A.I. was certainly practical if nothing else, and Nicholas was quickly given an opportunity to thank him as VEGA suddenly spoke up from a speaker nearby.

"Hello, Saint Nicholas. I trust your delivery route was a success."

"Indeed, it was, VEGA," Nicholas said good naturedly, his gaze wandering over the elves as they all excitedly continued with their upgrades. "Though it seems that I was not the only one that was busy last night."

"It is my hope that you do not think I coerced your workforce into the changes you see before you," VEGA replied, his voice remaining as pleasant as it always had been. "I merely offered suggestions to improve the already extremely efficient operations that are conducted here. The elves saw fit to implement them right away with the notion that you would approve."

"Did they now?" Nicholas said, raising an eyebrow down to Stefan, who avoided his gaze and suddenly became very interested in a spot on the floor.

"I have also drafted a few designs for future expansion and products, to be reviewed at your leisure, Saint Nicholas."

Nicholas was nearly overwhelmed by VEGA's generosity. Thankfully, he was saved by something he noticed while watching the elves eagerly work.

"It seems a large portion of my workforce is not here," he noted curiously.

"They are currently with the Doom Slayer, who is working at bench one-hundred thirty-seven," VEGA replied cordially before Stefan could speak up.

This also piqued Nicholas's curiosity, as he'd only borne witness to the Slayer's combative abilities, and if his capacity to create was on par with his capacity to destroy…

A trip to bench one-hundred thirty-seven showed a large crowd of elves gathered around the workbench, their short stature easily revealing the few yeti that were also gathered around and that of the Slayer himself.

Working intently, the Slayer seemed to be designing a compact device of sorts, and from what Nicholas could see, he deduced that it was some sort of bladed weapon designed to deploy and retract upon command. The device was currently sheathed within its housing, and the Slayer was tightening a few miniature screws on the device itself.

All parties present held their breath as the Slayer finished up, and with the flick of a small switch on the housing itself, the blade sprung forth with a metallic hiss, locking into place and extending about a foot beyond the sheath.

While the device itself was relatively simple, Nicholas's trained eye told him that the blade was incredibly heavy and dense for its size, which meant that the interior design was quite intricate given how small the housing of the blade actually was. The portions of the blade that collapsed to allow it to fit into its sheath were also seamless, flawless even, and it was only thanks to Nicholas's millennia of experience crafting such weapons that he could tell where one segment ended and another began.

The elves gasped and looked to one another excitedly at such a fine display of craftsmanship, and though Nicholas could still see a few design flaws that would need to be corrected if the blade were to be utilized in serious combat, a look at the Doom Slayer showed that he was aware of those flaws as well, though the armored man seemed to be only tinkering around with an idea of his rather than seriously attempting to fashion the blade for immediate use. While the Slayer examined the blade thoughtfully, Nicholas took the opportunity to approach.

"Your work is commendable, Slayer," Nicholas said. "I think you'll have superior results if you add additional weight to the chassis, however. The balance of the weight will help stabilize the blade in a combat scenario."

It was a small suggestion, and though Nicholas was certain that the armored human would have come to the same conclusion given time, Nicholas felt that he would still offer it nonetheless. The Doom Slayer seemed to take Nicholas's suggestion into consideration, and he gave a small nod with his head in thanks.

"Now," Nicholas said with finality. "I'm sure you're wondering as to why I have asked you to remain with us for just a little bit longer. Or perhaps you figured it out already?"

"I initially did not understand why you requested that we remain in this dimension, Saint Nicholas," VEGA confirmed from where he was listening. "But I believe I understand your intentions now."

The Doom Slayer said nothing, but he pulled out the small scroll they had recovered from Krampus's workshop and held it easily, standing up from the workbench as he did so. Wordlessly, the juggernaut passed the scroll to Nicholas, his movements indicating that he regarded the scroll, and by extension the weapon described within, with great reverence.

"Indeed," Nicholas said, turning and leading the way to his private office, where his own specialized workbench sat.

Each of the workstations in the main production floor possessed high quality tools and equipment for whatever fabrication technique the elves required, but Nicholas's bench was the pinnacle of pinnacles when it came to crafting. Tools of legendary status had been acquired and added to his collection over the years, and slowly, the bench had been modified to Nicholas's exact specifications for when he needed to test experimental toys or crafts. Even to an untrained eye, one would immediately know that there existed no finer place on the planet for crafting and building if they laid eyes on it.

In addition, much of Nicholas's magic had been infused with his personal tools, enhancing them many times over and making the quality of his creations unparalleled throughout the planet. Nicholas was never prideful to the point of being arrogant, but he knew that even though the Slayer had visited multiple realms and worlds throughout his quest, he would be hard pressed to find anyone more fit to smith this weapon.

Together, with the Slayer's knowledge and VEGA's keen eye, Nicholas selected only the most robust materials and set about his work, beginning to shape and craft the weapon with a practiced eye that had been honed through thousands of years of smithing and forging.

The process described in the scroll utilized similar smithing techniques to those that Nicholas knew, and the Doom Slayer was fortunate that they had discovered the scroll here, as there were not many on this planet that were proficient enough to utilize them, and even fewer that could consider themselves a master in such arts.

Slowly, the weapon was given form, and after a few hours of meticulous and precise work, Nicholas picked up the weapon and inspected it with the eye of a master smith. He looked for any inconsistencies or flaws in the object that he held in his hand, and despite his supernatural attention to detail, he could find not a single blemish along the metal object he had created with the help of his guests.

Wordlessly, Nicholas held the small object out to the Slayer, who inspected it as well, his eye likely no worse than Nicholas's in his analysis. After a few moments, the Doom Slayer looked back to Nicholas and gave a resolute nod with his head, communicating his approval of Nicholas's work.

"Your crafting technique and precision is superb, Saint Nicholas," VEGA said politely, his compliment bringing a small smile to his face. "There are few other beings that I am aware of that would be even remotely capable of replicating the quality of work you just displayed."

"Don't butter me up just yet, VEGA," Nicholas said with a chuckle. "We still have a few very important steps to complete."

Turning back to the Doom Slayer, Nicholas held the object out in one hand such that there was room for the Slayer to grab hold of it as well. Instructing him to concentrate his will, Nicholas closed his eyes and did the same. Honing his power, Nicholas felt his magic surge and channel into the object, flowing quickly and easily into the metal and imbuing it with power.

At the same time, Nicholas reached out to the Slayer's personal aura through the medium of the object, politely coaxing it out with the armored figure's concurrence and mixing it with his own inside the object itself. Nicholas had said before that the Slayer, being not of this world, was incompatible with the magic that flowed throughout it, and while that was still true, there were still ways for his life force to interact and alter the reality around him, and through this weapon, Nicholas was able to act as a catalyst for them both to imbue the weapon with their energy.

Their combined might filled the object in a matter of seconds, but Nicholas furrowed his brow and willed even more energy into the object, condensing the power and allowing more and more to funnel in.

A small whirlwind began to blow within Nicholas's private workshop, and the lights around them flickered from the interference generated by both of their power. Despite this, Nicholas kept his focus and forced even more magic into the weapon, drawing upon the reserves he had gained the night before upon Krampus's defeat.

A few moments more, and Nicholas released, sealing the power imbued by both him and the Doom Slayer into the weapon and opening his eyes at last. There was a metallic impact, and a low hum pulsed throughout the room for the briefest moments before dissipating. With a slightly winded motion, Nicholas released his grip on the weapon, allowing the Slayer to take full control of it for the first time. As the armored man inspected it once more, Nicholas took notice of the fact that a portion of the object was now glowing a vibrant red. More specifically, it was the symbol that Nicholas had carefully emulated from the depiction of the weapon found in the scroll, the same symbol that was displayed on the upper brow of the Slayer's helm. In addition, two metallic portions of the weapon had opened wide from their original upright positions, thrusting outward and giving it a resemblance to the letter "T".

As he took in the sight, Nicholas thought back to the last weapon that he had fed that much of his power to, and his eyes drifted to Rudolph, which was displayed above the workbench on the wall of his private office. Though the weapon had quieted and gone dormant after Krampus's defeat, Nicholas could feel the axe stir even from where he stood a few meters away. It had been slightly awakened by the creation of another powerful weapon, and Nicholas heard it hum anticipatedly as it curiously felt out the combination of Nicholas's and the Slayer's power that permeated the design.

Nicholas soothed the axe with his magic, slowly coaxing it back to its dormant state, though as the axe quieted, Nicholas turned back to the Doom Slayer and spoke intently about the weapon they had just created.

"I'm sure you are aware," Nicholas began. "But that weapon has been imbued with a substantial amount of both of our power. So much, in fact, that it no doubt has been given a will of its own."

Nicholas could feel it, even almost see it in the air. The weapon was alive, and it was incredibly powerful, more so than even Rudolph had been upon its creation. As a result, its level of consciousness was undoubtedly higher than its predecessor, and in this territory, Nicholas was woefully unfamiliar. Never before had so much of his magical power been fused into a weapon, and though Nicholas was confident that the Doom Slayer was capable of keeping control over such a potent device, it still gave Nicholas the smallest feeling of apprehension of what they had created.

"I am indeed aware of the aura that flows throughout this object," VEGA replied. "I am also greatly intrigued by it, as its life force, while similar to that of yourself and the Doom Slayer, has taken on a unique signature of its own."

"And it will continue to do so," Nicholas confirmed with a nod. "Its consciousness will be rudimentary in comparison to us, but it is still powerful and will continue to shape itself as it continues to exist."

"Intriguing," VEGA replied.

There was a pause in the next moment, and though it was brief, Nicholas could not help but feel some sort of unspoken charge in the air, leading him to believe that there was more to this topic than he was aware of.

The moment passed quickly, however, and Nicholas offered the Slayer a small smile before beckoning him to follow as he exited his workshop.

"Well then Slayer, how about we place the finishing touches on that weapon? After all, what use is a hilt without a blade?"

…

Nicholas returned to the main workshop to see Stefan and the others just finishing up. Per Nicholas's instructions, they had constructed a large basin in the center of the room. The dimensions of which were about a meter in diameter and half as deep. The basin, crafted with the most robust of metals, was filled nearly to the brim with bright red molten energy, courtesy of Nicholas himself.

Very seldom was Nicholas's magic required to be purified into a form such as this, as distilling the power into a liquid form only degraded any weapon that was inserted into it. The physical form of the weapon clashed with the physical form of the energy, decaying it rapidly. It was because of this that Nicholas imbued his tools and weapons with his magic directly, like he had just done so for the Doom Slayer's new weapon. If the weapon was constituted solely of energy however…

"Just in time, Santa," Stefan reported, gesturing to the lava-like energy that simmered within the basin. "We are ready."

Nicholas gave a thankful nod to his comrade, then stepped aside as the Doom Slayer strode forward, already knowing what came next.

"Whenever you are ready."

The Slayer gave a nod of his own to Nicholas, then gave a sweep of the room with his helmeted gaze. The entire elfish workforce had gathered to see this moment, the yeti and the hellhound arriving to witness the spectacle as well, the latter having concluded its meeting with the arctic wolves outside.

The Slayer stepped forward to the basin, and without hesitation, the armored man inserted the upper portion of the weapon into the molten energy, the liquid power immediately reacting and arcing upward onto the hilt with small bolts of red lightning. The Slayer held the hilt steady for a moment as the energy writhed and thrashed, then slowly lifted it upward and out of the basin. As he did so, however, much of the molten energy followed, solidifying and taking the form of a large red blade that protruded from the end of the hilt. The blade itself was composed entirely of energy, and as the Slayer removed it further, Nicholas could see numerous symbols etched upon the hardened light. Some of the symbols were like those depicted on the scrolls they had seen on that night. These symbols still meant nothing to Nicholas, but his eyes widened when he saw a few symbols he did recognize.

Some of the ancient runes that Nicholas had first used to facilitate his magical power were displayed as prominently as the others, and indeed, many of these runes could also be seen on Rudolph's axe blade, their presence an indicator that Nicholas's power flowed through the blade as well as the Slayer's.

A few lingering arcs of lightning jumped from the basin to the blade as the Slayer removed it completely, and a collective gasp went through the crowd of gathered elves and yeti as he held it high for all to see.

Even Nicholas himself marveled at the blade, his own craftsmanship perfectly acting as a vessel to shape and give life to the combined energy that constituted this new weapon. Faint whispers reached his ears as his magic spoke to him again, uttering one word in reverence of the powerful device that the Slayer held in his hands.

Crucible.

…

It took less than a day for Nicholas to review the ideas and potential blueprints that VEGA had left him, and less than a week for the elves to implement almost all of them into the day-to-day operations in the workshop. As a result, the shop was running with unrivaled efficiency by New Year's Day, and Nicholas allowed himself a small chuckle and a shake of his head as he tinkered on his workbench, his elves already well ahead of schedule for next Christmas's workload.

The Doom Slayer, VEGA, and the hellhound had all departed in a flash of blue light shortly after thanking Nicholas for his help, though the Father of Christmas insisted that he should have been the one thanking them. They had helped save not only Christmas on that night, but all Christmases to come, as Krampus's victory would have been all but assured without their timely arrival.

It was for that reason that Nicholas was grateful that he had been given the opportunity to give a gift to the Doom Slayer in the spirit of the season, and though Nicholas had prepared something for VEGA as well, the A.I. politely refused his gift, insisting ever so kindly that the knowledge of his workshop and crafting tactics was more than sufficient, as the A.I. seemed to hold knowledge in high esteem above a great many things.

The hellhound, in contrast, eagerly accepted the gift Nicholas offered to it, which came in the form of spiced meats and food from his pantries. As with the yeti, the demonic canine took quite a liking to the exquisite sustinence, the premium choices obviously satisfying the creature's palette. And it was with a full belly and fresh armament that the trio departed, but not without the Doom Slayer providing Nicholas with one final gift of his own.

That gift was now standing proudly on the corner of Nicholas's desk, and it took the form of a toy version of the Doom Slayer, which sported slightly more cartoonish proportions in the form of a slightly larger head atop the body. The colors of the toy differed slightly from the armor they were based upon, with the most obvious differences being that the helmet and visor possessed a darker gray color instead of green. Despite that, Nicholas looked at the toy rather fondly, knowing that the gift would always serve as a reminder of what transpired that fateful Christmas. It also served as a warning of sorts, a warning to always stand ready should a threat like this arise again. Krampus may have been defeated, but as sure as the North Pole was cold, another would arise to eventually take his place. It might be centuries before such an evil arose again, but it would still come all the same.

And yet, Nicholas did not fear its arrival. For some reason, the Slayer toy instilled in him the will to stand against Krampus should he ever arise again. And though Nicholas may never be as strong or as powerful as the Doom Slayer, he knew that if Krampus ever returned, he would be there, ready to protect humanity once more.

Notes:

A/N: Boom! There it is folks! After over four years, this story finally has its very own holiday special! I don't really count the Jack Reacher chapter at this point due to the lack of a holiday-based issue for our friends to solve, so I will mark this as the first one! Embarassing as this is to admit, I actually began writing this chapter over a year ago, but didn't finish it until now. Oh well, better late than never.

I also must admit, when I was thinking of how to depict Santa in this chapter, I found myself heavily drawn to how he looks in "A Christmas Horror Story". It was really his battle in the movie that sealed the deal for me, though I encourage everyone to stick to however they had imagined him as they read through this chapter. With that in mind, please do not hesitate to let me know how you thought of this chapter, whether it be the tone, pacing, characterization, the incredibly large exposition bomb at the end...All good and bad thoughts are welcome! Until next time!

-ImpulsiveWeaver

Chapter 42: Borderlands

Notes:

A/N: Enjoy! I own nothing! Please stick around for more notes at the end!

VEGA immediately noted upon their arrival in this new dimension that the current gravity was negligible. It seemed that this time, the tether system had chosen to deposit both the Slayer and the hellhound in the vast vacuum of space, as it had done so many times before. As the hellhound spun freely and attempted to cease its motion, VEGA turned the sensors of the Praetor Suit to the starry ambience, scanning or any possible match to determine their current location.

His results were inconclusive, even with the vast expanse of star charts he himself had generated from their multiple visits to alternate dimensions and universes. As a result, VEGA concluded that they had not arrived in any region of space that could be considered an alternate version of a universe they’d visited before, and his hypothesis was proven correct as he noted the closest celestial body to their current location was a planet, though it was over 400,000 kilometers away. From what VEGA could discern from visual scans alone, he could see that the planet possessed quite a few different climate zones, and a few other scans returned to find that life most likely existed upon its surface. Further examination discovered that a single moon remained in close orbit to the planet itself, and despite the distance from the moon, VEGA could tell based on its orbital path that it was relatively small compared to the moon of the earth that he and the Slayer originated from.

Even further still, VEGA noted with curiosity that a large space station sat in orbit of the moon itself, the man-made structure taking the shape of a large “H” from what VEGA could see.

Despite all that VEGA was able to discern about the planet and its moon, he was still unable to perform any deeper scans beyond what he could visually see, meaning that if there were anything unnatural occurring on its surface, he would never know. Attempting to reach the planet in a timely fashion in order to more thoroughly examine it was impossible without some kind of outside assistance, as the fastest method they could utilize would be the Slayer firing one of his weapons continuously in the direction opposite to the planet, which would effectively case him to build up speed until he entered the planet’s atmosphere.

Running calculations at a speed that only VEGA was capable, the A.I. deduced that to achieve the fastest results, the gauss cannon would be the weapon of choice, though even if the Slayer continuously fired the weapon up until the point he entered the planet’s atmosphere, the duration of the journey would still approximate to almost a week of travel.

Running risk calculations next, VEGA weighed the possibility of the planet undergoing some form of calamity that would require the Slayer’s assistance against the time it would take to arrive, and despite running numerous scenarios and trials, the A.I. continued to arrive at the conclusion that the time they would lose did not merit further investigation of the world. It was with that that VEGA finally spoke to the Doom Slayer, who was also investigating the far away planet.

“The planet you see before you is approximately 432,512 kilometers away. Though I am unable to accurately investigate for anomalies, it is my belief that we move on to the next dimension, as the amount of time required to journey close and accurately scan the world decreases the possibility of arriving in another dimension in time to render aid before it is too late.”

The Slayer considered VEGA’s words, then nodded once in agreement, gesturing to the hellhound as he did so.

The hound immediately understood and warped close enough for the Slayer to make contact with its fur, and as soon as the armored man grabbed hold, he raised his right gauntlet and activated the tether.

There was a flash of blue light, but there was no loud bang due to the vacuum of space. In total, the trio spent less than one minute in the dimension before warping away, never to return.

NEVER.

Notes:

A/N: And scene! Whew! At long last, the long awaited Borderlands chapter is here! I know you guys were super excited for this one, and I can only hope that I delivered everything you asked for and more! Be sure to leave me a review letting me know what your favorite/most hated part of the chapter was, as I always look forward to hearing from you all! Until next time!

OK! OK! I'm sorry, but I really really REALLY couldn't resist having a little fun with this one. For those who stuck around this far and haven't sent me death threats yet, this chapter is NOT CANON, I REPEAT NOT CANON to Universal DOOM, and is only a joke chapter. The real Borderlands chapter exists in the form of its own story titled: "Hell in a Box", so please go and read that before you track my IP and strangle me!

-ImpulsiveWeaver