Danmachi fanfic, taking place right after volume 11. You may not be familiar with some of the characters but they aren't the focal point. This takes major inspiration from World War's 1 and 2, so yeah, enjoy!
Chapter 1: The Night Of Broken Glass
Orario, in the dead of night.
Lights illuminating the empty streets, and shadows moved unseen. The denizens of Orario were about to live through six hours of unbelievable hell.
Unbeknownst to them, the Remnants of Evilus were lurking in the shadows, preparing a surprise offensive.
As the screams resounded through the labyrinth city, and the flames grew thick, every adventurer could feel the ominous aura that had befallen Orario...
-(Finn's Perspective)-
"FINN!!!" A voice shouted from below.
"THE CITY IS UNDER ATTACK!!!"
"Rally our familia members and get to the epicenter!" I yelled back.
I knew something was wrong. My instincts barely ever let me down before. It felt like lightning was coursing through my veins every passing moment.
Without a second thought, I rushed downstairs, fully equipped to deal with any threat. My spear ready to take out any threat, or so I thought.
As I kicked the doors open, a repugnant smell hit me. The vile stench of burning flesh mixed with smoke and ashes filled the air.
What I saw shocked me to the core.
Nearly half of Orario was in flames, screaming and wailing coming from every direction. What happened?
For the first time in years since I became an adventurer, my brain wouldn't function correctly. Maybe it was the heavy grey smoke or the disorienting screams.
I rushed as fast as possible to priority locations, places with innocent men, women, and children.
The civilians.
What I saw mortified me.
From my blurred vision, I could see a countless number of bodies, charred black, strewn about the street. Even... even the children, still being cradled by the corpses of their parents. In my mind, I could not believe that it was man that committed this atrocity. Who could be so cruel and cold hearted?
Out of the corner of my eye, something moved. I prayed it was a survivor as I swallowed my vomit and charged forward. Instead, what greeted me was a tall man wearing an oh so familiar white robe. The head of a child in one hand and a magic sword in the other.
The Remnants of Evilus.
And in that moment, all the sadness and grief I had evaporated. Only one emotion had remained.
Fury.
My gaze went cold and my heart froze over. In the blink of an eye, my spear tore through him like a sheet of paper. The blood dripping down my spear and congealing on my hand.
Fucking abominations...
Yeah so this is a super dark take on Danmachi, with multiple perspectives. Please criticize me if the image painted was too... gory.
Ya boi, GiantAsianSticker, over and out.