Dim, red light seeped into the office with the lifting of armored curtains protecting the windows. Considering what has taken place recently, such defense measures were very much warranted, but Doctor Hayden enjoyed thinking the most in well lit areas. The 3 meter tall cyborg sat in his giant chair and gazed into the Martian Sun. One of the wealthiest and migthiest people in the whole solar system, the director of two most influential organisations in the world - the Global Science Council and the Union Aerospace Corporation, was now sitting solemn and humbled. His cybernetic eye hidden behind a distinctly inhuman, vertical slit that spanned most of his otherwise featureless facial plate allowed him to witness this celestial body in all it's glory. Meek, ordinary humans had to avert their eyes from it, but he transcended their limitations. He could look straight into the Sun's face, like an equal to an equal. If only more people were ready to improve upon their weak, natural bodies like he did…

But in that moment, he could not feel any pride of his superiority over ordinary humans. He had failed mankind for the first time. He allowed demons from hell, biblical hell, to destroy his greatest gift to humanity, and thus deprive it of it the limitless energy he stole from the devils.

It annoyed him slightly that it wasn't his own transhuman self that ended the invasion, but that single minded brute. Of course, he unearthed him from his imprisonment in hell for this very ocassion, even if at the time he thought this was a largely redundant precaution. That man was a brutal monster, a killer without mercy or remorse, a primitive being. But in the end, what did it matter? Without Hayden, the Slayer of demons would still be imprisoned in Hell, and without the Slayer, Samuel would most likely be dead. Mutual assistance and gain is something that's always favorable, and it's not like the warrior is exactly an ordinary human either. Originating in a different timeline, wearing superior quality powered armor, possessing utterly superhuman agility and reflexes… Yes, he was a transhuman as well, he just chose to hone his brutal nature instead of his mental faculties. And despite this, he must have retained at least some higher cognitive functions if he really was the leader of the Sentinels. The demon-slaying warriors of D'nur followed him into the depths of hell, if the stone tablets were to be believed. It still perplexed Hayden just how did he become such a monstrous war machine. Argent D'nur was technologically advanced, but Sentinels' armor was nothing in comparison to the Slayer's praetor suit, and there are no known historical records of the Sentinels ever being as feared and unstoppable as the Slayer. Supposedly, he was blessed by the Seraphim with speed and strength, but he has never seen any evidence suggesting they even exist. In the end, no matter what Samuel thought of him and his strong drive for wanton destruction, he was grateful for his help.

Unfortunately, he couldn't bask in the sublime light and ponder on various irrelevant quandries any longer. Just a few hours ago, the demonic invasion was ended, and he needed to deal with the aftermath. Doubly so since he was the last living being on the planet and he no longer had subordinates to do the grunt work for him. Not even VEGA. Thinking about the AI has killed any remains of his somewhat positive mood.

VEGA was his second greatest creation, the most loyal and competent servant imaginable – and he was now dead. The fact that he volunteered to sacrifice himself and that it was not in vain did not help much. The AI was the closest thing to a friend that he had ever had and one of the greatest achievements of humankind, a next step in its technological evolution. He understandably felt mournful. But what was done, was done. There was no point in brooding any longer, as much as he wanted to indulge himself in it. He still had an utter disaster to deal with. Tens of thousands of employees dead, their souls trapped in hell, most facilities in utter ruin, argent tower demolished beyond repair…

He realized that for some reason, the destruction of property hit him harder that the death of his employees. For a moment, he felt a chill as he realized he might be losing his humanity and empathy, his only fear that he ever had before embarking on his journey to transcending humanity. But then rationalized that it's a fairly normal emotional response considering that most of them were insane demon cultists that betrayed him. Including Olivia.

Her betrayal hurt him the most and put the most shame on him. He was most likely the one to blame for her descent into madness. He put so much faith in her, sponsored her education, personally guided her through her first steps in the world of business and science, and in the end that one artefact he sent her, the one that made her join the UAC and his research institute, sparked her obsession with hell and demons, lead to her insanity. Olivia was the first protégé of his foundation and his favorite student, yet in the end she was his greatest failure and disappointment, one he would remember until the end of his days.

That was hardly the end of misery that met him. He had to deal with various authorities soon. It wouldn't be long before somebody noticed that any and all communications from Mars had ceased. Somebody would demand answers, and he was the last man alive that could be held responsible.

The cyborg stood from his chair and started pacing around the room, his mostly artificial brain kicked into overdrive and let low level habits take control of his body to leave more computational power to problem solving.

He wasn't really afraid of any consequences. He was one of UACs directors, as well as the general director of the Global Science Council. He had more power than any single government in his palms. But it still put his influence within those organizations in question. Could he be forced to sign his own resignation? Would numerous factions opposing him gain any real traction?

He did still have his wild card. The Crucible. That sword had access to a near endless ocean of energy. He wasn't sure if it was due to some form of transdimensional connection to the otherwise sealed Well, or if the artefact held that power within itself, perhaps warping space and time to achieve otherwise impossible energy densities. Regardless of its exact mechanism of action, it could be used as an alternative to the now defunct argent tower. Perhaps also as a means to easier extrauniversal travel. He could spin this whole debacle as a victory with it. He could convince the board of directors that the Crucible is worth the sacrifice of Martian facilities, that he intentionally sent the Doom Slayer into Hell to retrieve it, that the demonic invasion was just an unforeseen counter attack. That humanity would gain something precious despite the chaos that engulfed Mars. He could easily hide the fact that it was his most trusted subordinate that opened the gates of Hell. Yes, that seemed like a good course of action, but he would need a proof of concept, something to prove that the Crucible was as powerful as he suspects.

An hour later, Samuel Hayden was standing in front of a jury-rigged device. It was a makeshift, small scale copy of the argent tower's energy transmission device he made from salvage lying around the argent facility. One of the advantages of having a cybernetic brain was the ability to quickly design machinery, and he put that one to good use here.

Samuel cradled the Crucible in his hand. He wasn't sure if his method of harvesting its energy was particularly efficient or even possible, but it was a very educated guess. He would expand the energy blade and thrust it into the magnetized chamber of the machine, which would siphon the blade's energy. Hopefully the Crucible would then replenish it to keep the blade's integrity. Not the most sophisticated or elegant approach, but doctor Hayden was not a man to scoff at compromises.

UAC's expeditionary forces would be here in an hour, maybe less. He desperately needed his proof of concept generator operational by then. It would provide power to the remaining facilities and lessen the impression of complete destruction that the base was making at the moment. It would provide proof that he achieved something worthwhile in this whole sorry debacle.

With a shake of his left hand, he activated the demonic sword. The teeth at its tip moved outwardsto form a cross guard, while a short blade made of an as of yet unidentified black stone sprung forward. Split of a second later, the black stone unleashed a torrent of red plasma that quickly formed itself into the shape of a giant blade ended with a hook. Soon after, inscriptions in a demonic language appeared upon the side of the blade. That was the one thing that worried him out about the artefact – those letters did not appear on any sensors other than visual. For all intents and purposes, they were not there, only some sort of an exotic optical illusion – except there was absolutely nothing to make that illusion present. But that didn't matter right now. A mystery for another time.

With a precise movement that could only be achieved by a mechanical arm, he thrust the sword into the chamber. Tendrils of red energy reached out of it, touching his armored hand and searing off the white paint on it. If he had a face, he would have scowled. That wasn't supposed to happen, all energy was supposed to be contained within the magnetic trap. Did the sword somehow increase its power output?

He did not have time to ponder on this question any more, as a flash of red-white light erupted from the chamber and consumed him whole. Moments later, his body was flying at high speeds through a hellscape, Crucible still in his palm. He quickly approached ground, on a collision course with a very confused knight of Hell. The moment the two collided, another bright flash of light erupted from the demonic sword, and darkness engulfed Samuel's mind.

He woke up lying stretched on the ground, in a puddle of blood and meat. Slowly, he raised his head to scan his surroundings. What he saw short circuited his brain for a moment.

He and the demon he pulverized were in the middle of a city, on what appeared to be Earth. For the first time since the invasion of Mars begun, Samuel panicked. If the gates of hell were to open on humankind's homeworld, it would be a massacre on a scale far surpassing the terrifying things he had already witnessed recently. As far as he knew, only the summoner species of demons could open dimensional portals on their own, and they were very limited in scope at that. If his action somehow broke the divide between the worlds…

His horror only intensified when he noticed that not only was he buried up to his ankles in a dead hell knight, but a group of imps prowled around, scaling buildings and breaking in through windows. He lost any remaining control of himself and he let out a mortified scream, which due to his voice synthesizer sounded more like a blood curdling war horn. A few of the demons turned their heads his way and scrambled to surround him while throwing balls of plasma at him.

Samuel transferred more power to his actuators and sprung into action, but despite his superhuman reflexes and agility his giant stature made him suffer a few hits. Balls of argent-generated plasma splashed upon his metal skin, searing off its white paint and threatening the integrity of his outer armor. It was dark, but neither he nor the demons had any problems seeing. He had his cybernetic enhancements to help with that, but what granted them their low light sight? They were such a beautiful conundrum of biology. Living, organic beings whose very cells could manipulate and utilize pure argent energy. It was a damn shame he would have to kill those present here in self defense.

Before any more attacks could be thrown his way, he caught up to the nearest imp, ripped his torso from his legs and launched the now limp body parts at two other imps scaling a wall. One managed to dodge, but the other was struck by the torso, lost his grip and fell two stories down. The demon survived the fall, but Samuel was already there, waiting for him. He gripped the monster's head and tore it off it's neck. Another fireball hit him in the shoulder, this time managing to slightly impede the proper functioning of one of his actuators. Before any more could contact, he swiftly crouched with one hand firmly planted against the ground and then lunged forward at another imp, impaling it's chest on his metallic fingers, which clasped at the beast's heart and crushed it in their grip. Before a second passed, Samuel was already moving towards his next target. An unusually fast ball of particularly hot plasma impacted his leg and violently jerked it away mid-step, causing him to trip. Samuel managed to regain control of his momentum by moving into a roll, but prolonged movement along a single axis caused him to suffer another hit. Imps proved more annoying and accurate than he ever thought they could be.

"Maybe he was right in the end. Maybe all of you really do need to die." His robotic voice did not betray any emotion, but the very fact that he decided to speak to beings completely unable to comprehend his words, and to – what's even more unthinkable – start to be inclined towards agreeing with the slayer of demons, was the manifestation of his growing anger and annoyance.

"Is this your vain attempt at revenge, or are you just after the Crucible? I denied the death sentence he put on your whole species, and this is how you repay my mercy?" He spoke, still in the eerily calm tone, after being simultaneously hit by four fireballs launched from four different windows by imps hiding in buildings. It was obvious that they were intelligent and sentient, and he did feel remorse at their deaths because of that. But he could not help but resent them for their unwarranted aggression, their invasion, and now – their attempts at killing him and attacking Earth itself. He really did regret having to kill. But right now, he understood the Slayer a little bit.

Another imp fell limp to the ground, the last one outside. Samuel started running and smashed through one of the lower windows and the surrounding wall to reach an imp that was hiding there before, but somebody beat him to it.

A tall individual clad in blue powered armor stood in the unlit room holding an imp off the ground by the back of it's neck. He visibly changed his posture after catching sight of Samuel. He quickly moved into a combat stance, facing the cyborg on slightly bend legs, with his right one put forward, the kicking imp dangling in front of him as a form of a meat shield. The man's lower face was not hidden by his helmet, but his expression hardly displayed anything but absolute focus.

"Mannequin"