Author notes: Apologies for the delay with this chapter, lots of stuff going on. Gonna be busy with exams and whatnot as of next week, so don't expect any updates for a while. This was a difficult chapter (yeah, I say that about most of them) for many reasons, both due to the content and my personal life. It ended up coming out very differently to what I had originally planned for it...but I stuck to it and I think this should work better for the rest of the story than what I had at first.
I do believe this will be the longest chapter yet...or at least very close to it. Lots of stuff going on here, took ages to write, but I pretty much did it in one sitting anyway (ignoring a quick break I took). Hopefully after about 2 weeks in development, it will have been worth the wait.

Chapter 21: Earthbound Hell

Bathed in seemingly divine light, the demon burned in Saxton's hand. Compressed hellfire so visible in the demon's eyes, his body no longer able to contain the most terrible force in the world: love. It was love for his former team, the members of RED, that had twisted the man once known as Isaac Howard into the Crimson Demon. It was love for his new team that made him stay behind to buy them time. But most of all, it was love for the world and all that existed within it that pushed him now, that drove him to face the impossible for even the slightest chance of saving it from the monsters he now found as his enemies.

Faced with this power coursing through the Engineer's veins, Hale yelped a most unmanly cry of surprise, leaping back and flinching, his hand releasing his former captive and spasming. Eyes wide in shock, the Australian slowly looked down at his large, hairy hand. The thick skin that was barely burned even from intensive and continued flamethrower usage against him was scorched and in pain, a horrible stinging causing him to grind his teeth. He took the time to concentrate and found that, as with every other thing that would have slowed or killed a normal man, he could ignore the pain and regain use of his hand. After a few seconds, a smile graced his features as he balled both hands into fists.

"HA! Now, where was that-"

WHAM! A gauntleted fist slammed into the Australian, sending the bulky man flying into the air. The few moments he had spent fighting past the pain had made him lose track of his prey, who currently stood still, head down and silent as the heavens cast him in an unearthly glow. Hale tried not to wince as he rubbed his jaw, the wind whistling past his ears not seeming to bother him in the slightest.

Backflipping casually, a frown formed on his features as he descended back down to earth as fast as gravity would allow. He wasn't much of a thinker and his eyesight was hardly his prime strength, but if he didn't know better, that glow almost seemed to be coming from the Engineer himself rather than being a trick of the light. And why was the man frozen still like a statue and not picking up his fallen shotgun?

No sooner than thinking this, Hale's eyes grew wide once again, mouth slowly opening as the Crimson Demon was there before him, falling at the same pace, madness etched into his features, the red glow emanating from his body becoming more apparent. Suddenly the sound of the rushing air vanished and the Australian found himself cold and the world became dark...sheer darkness for all except the figure cloaked in burning flames. For perhaps the first time in his entire life, Hale felt true fear course through his body, locking him up and clouding his mind.

Then he felt it. Outwards there was no change in appearance but that...demon had done something. A wave of hatred hit the Mann Co. CEO like a full storm compressed into a single explosion of emotion, drowning him in its intensity. Fear had frozen him and hate had its flames licking his very soul. Electricity running through him, the man was reduced to beast even further, operating on mere instinct as the question of fight or flight came to him. Even with terror gripping him, even with his mind gone and even when faced with the sight of Death himself, grinning beneath that helmet, Hale was not one to run.

With every ounce of his soul he gathered himself together. With every ounce of his strength he compressed the very essence of his being. With every ounce of desperation clearly visible on his face, the Australian balled his hand, drew back his fist and with a final primal roar, launched his might at the Texan.

Saxton opened his eyes, not realising that he had shut them and found himself staring at the burning light of Isaac's soul. Looking past those eyes he gulped. His fist had been caught easily in the mechanical arm of the Engineer and there appeared to be no effort exerted on the Demon's part as he struggled to escape his steel grasp. Looking back into the eyes that illuminated his very soul, he finally heard the Crimson Demon speak.

"Not enough."

And in that instant, Hale knew it to be true. He didn't have the inner strength, the same drive, the same will. He had drawn himself together and launched it at his foe, but it had not been enough. His essence had scattered before the open hand that had so easily halted his fist. The Australian had a roaring primal spirit like few others, but he had never been truly challenged, had never encountered something to bring him to his knees. He had not had his love been turned to hate. He had not lost everything and reinvented himself in steel and hellfire.

The man known as Saxton Hale was a savage beast, a terror amongst mortal men. But his opponent was more, his opponent was beyond mortal comprehension, his opponent would face the Gods themselves if he had to. Isaac Howard was the Crimson Demon, a man driven to the edge of despair, all odds and Fate herself against him. He was the Crimson Demon, a warrior who had been reborn anew and stepped forwards to face the world without hesitation. He was the Crimson Demon and the mere Beast he fought had brought pain to his team, to his friends, to his family.

The sound of wind returned to Hale's ears and the world around them rematerialised for one moment as he idly noticed his hand was free. Isaac had raised both arms before him into the air clasped together and with an almighty roar, the sight of his fists about to embed themselves into Saxton's skull was the last thing the Australian saw before his body was used to create a sizeable crater in the barren earth.

###

Elsewhere, away from Death, Nils and Dell bore witness to the invocation of Life.

Illuminated by the joyful light of the heavens, the wounded found themselves in the embrace of the Life Sparker, the aforementioned Medigun's beam having spread out into seven spiralling threads of energy. Each thread embedded itself into one of the fallen mercenaries, a strange light pulsing through the threads as a new glow bathed the members of Team Fortress, drawing them all, Nils and Dell include, into its warm embrace.

The aura of healing light grew, spreading over the vehicle and beyond into a blue-white orb, sparking and crackling gently as tendrils of blue energy danced throughout. An odd sense of calm befell the Medic and the Engineer as they watched breathlessly as the world beyond the orb they were in seemed to vanish into a white void, the only sound a steady and comforting hum. The threads continued to pulse and twist slightly as sparks danced over the motionless bodies of the other teammates.

Beyond words or conscious thought, fascinated and speechless, Nils dropped the experimental Medigun, the energy-carrying...no, life-carrying rays still flowing from the barrel as he walked into the centre, where the airborne sparks were most prominent. Dell simply stood there, slack-jawed, eyes unseen behind his goggles. The Medic found himself examining each body as wounds were healed at an incredible pace, as blood vanished, as the very clothes and armour and weapons became clean and shiny. He saw chests rise, he heard their breaths and somehow...even without touching them, he could feel their heartbeats. He could feel the life in his patient's bodies, could feel their recovery, the life in their chests stirring in all but one of them.

Slowly, still not aware of what he was doing, Nils approached the battered and inert form of the Scout. His body was lying there, the young boy looking serene and peaceful as the soft light licked at his face. Kevin's wounds had been healed, but his presence was not sensed. The Medic crouched at the boy's side, one gloved hand cautiously reaching out, searching for a pulse. How long Nils simply crouched there, searching for a life that was not present, he didn't know. Only the feel of Dell's Gunslinger in his shoulder brought the Medic back into the present.

He took one look at the Texan, who had removed his helmet and was looking sadly at the inert form of the runner. The German doctor looked away, turning his head back to their fallen comrade, bowing his head. He clumsily mumbled a few muffled strings of German in the boy's memory, choking back a sob as tears ran freely down his normally stoic or sadistic face. He had seen so many die, had treated so many of his patients with ill-disguised disdain and malice, putting countless wounded in considerable pain both before and during his enlistment in BLU.

The Medic had heartlessly let so many die and had even treated his teammates with the same utter disregard...at first. But slowly he had come to love the buffoons he worked with, a slight pain in his chest starting to form every time he had to abandon one to save his own skin and conserve his precious Übercharge, no matter how necessary it had been. But to think that even for all of this growth, that he'd be reduced to such a state over the death of a mere boy...in other times it would have been laughable.

Instead he simply cried, not noticing or caring when Dell joined in, wet streaks running down under his goggles, the man on his knees and spouting gibberish. Neither man was aware as time passed, surrounded by this orb and surrounded by bodies...

###

The Demon and the Beast continued to trade blows, their clashes echoing throughout the empty landscape, craters marking the results of airborne duels, rubble from thrown boulders littering the earth. A thunderous boom exploded out, causing both land and air alike to shake, the barrel of Vengeance emitting dark smoke as electricity sparked around the ominous shotgun. The Beast panted heavily, having only just dodged the maelstrom of charged buckshot that had dug long trenches and exploded railway track just behind and to one side of him.

Hale had been able to recover and strike out against the Engineer, satisfied to find that whilst any wounds inflicted vanished immediately, over time and with each successful strike, the damn Demon's aura grew a little smaller, a little weaker, a little less intense. Merely being in the presence of that raging fireball threatened to throw the Australian back into a panic or worse yet, paralysed by fear.

Still, even with his few minor victories, he knew his outcome did not look good. Already somewhat injured from the early attacks by the entirety of Team Fortress and unable to tap into his usual reserves of strength and rage, the Australian did what he could. The Crimson Demon had been hard enough to fight even without weapons and if the Engineer's weaponry had also been affected by his apparent transformation (as it appeared they had, if the shotgun was anything to go by)...well, he didn't like his odds.

As if to punctuate this fact, the Demon's left arm shifted, in an instant replaced with a gleaming chaingun. Wasting no time, he unleashed a hail of blazing bullets at the Beast, who snarled and leapt into the air, narrowly avoiding the incendiary rounds as they ploughed into ground and rubble alike with a scattering of brief flames. Not missing a moment, Isaac angled the chaingun up, easily tracking the Australian as he travelled in a predictable parabolic arc, his mind near-instantly predicting the trajectory and tagging the airborne CEO with his fire.

Landing with a pained grunt as fire licked at his scarred and bleeding flesh, his hat and shorts somehow intact, if tattered, the bulky man kicked up a cloud of dirt and dust before dashing to one direction into a roll. Vision temporarily obscured, the Crimson Demon unleashed another seconds worth of fire into the cloud before deactivating the chaingun and reforming his hand. Isaac spent a moment to look at his hands and then to glance into the distance where a blue-white orb could be seen, spotlighted by the Sun's rays. Teeth clenched, he formed two fists and vanished into a blur of motion, thrusters active and further shrapnel and dust kicked into the air as he sped off.

Hale put all the effort he could into the massive muscles that pumped his legs, allowing him to rush at breakneck pace to the orb of unusual light that he just knew contained the Demon's teammates. He hated to fight dirty like this, to use trickery and hostages rather than fight like a man, but he had to stall for time. It had stopped being a man-to-man fight as soon as the power of Death had been unleashed upon him and he had to find any edge he could against the Engineer.

A distraction, a way of passing the time...he knew that power couldn't be used indefinitely, and with the way the aura had looked last time he'd had a proper look at his foe, it couldn't be much longer. The intense desire to stay alive justified his actions in Saxton's mind and he was almost there, almost at where the rest of that bloody team had congregated together. He had seen that vehicle darting about in the distance, collecting their bodies. With any luck he could halt that mad Engineer here and put an end to them all for certain. And then he'd-

The Australian's limbs all jerked and snapped forward as his torso came to an abrupt stop as the rest of his momentum made itself known on his head, the sudden force of the stop almost knocking the man unconscious. Blinking weakly, he just barely felt some strange flame sear it's way through his flesh, into his chest, into his being. Slowly but surely he looked down and was met with the sight of the Crimson Demon standing there still as a statue, head down.

Hale croaked out and gasped as his blood trickled into a pool on the sodden earth below. Coughing, gobs of blood splattered onto the ground and the armour of the Engineer, who just stood there, both hands on the hilt of his infernal blade. Crimson liquid ever so slowly ran down the blade, the metal shining with a seemingly divine light as the last of the clouds parted and the hellish battlefield was brought into full view for anyone unfortunate enough to see the destruction.

A rushing came to his head and pain wracked his body, a dull thumping in his chest suddenly becoming very loud as it gratingly slowed and agonisingly squeezed. Saxton Hale had felt the sting of steel splice through is skin and muscle, of his blood splatting onto the ground, ever since a young age. He had felt his bones snap under blows that shook the very earth. He had felt his pain tolerance tested extensively through use of high voltage coursing through his body.

Hale had fought off the most dangerous animals the world had to offer with nothing more than his bare hands. He had laughed in the face of adventure, slaughtered countless innocents whilst laughing merrily, had made his living on selling weapons of war. He was less a human and more an indestructible beast, by adulthood able to shrug off bullets with little issue and leap through the air like some strange shirtless superhero. He had faced police and armies and fought his way into becoming the recently-crowned King of Australia, just because he could.

"But now..." Isaac thought to himself as he gritted his teeth, clinging onto the last of the Über-Overdrive while he still could, letting the rage at this man flow freely. Using all of his mental strength he held it in check, preventing the last dregs of raw power simply explode out of him or take over completely. He shut his eyes one last time, breathing deeply as he thought of his team, possibly beyond recovery even with the Medic working as best he could and even with the power of the Life Sparker. He thought of all that had suffered, directly or otherwise, from the actions of this uncontrollable Beast he had held impaled on his sword. He thought of the state of the world and all he had yet to do.

A final surge of energy was unleashed, the Crimson Demon's soul screaming with all its might for one last gift of strength from Death, for the body to go even further beyond its limits and allow this one act of retribution...and revenge. Overcome in a blazing sea of passion, of rage, of hate and of love, the Engineer screeched to the heavens, eyes snapping open as a roar started to rumble its way through his throat, rumbling through his entire being.

"...THERE SHALL BE NO MORE!"

Feet dug into the cratered and drowned Earth, the pool of blood still growing outwards as legs tensed, muscles bound and ready to release. An almighty tremor ran through the ground for an instant as blood and earth alike were scattered, the spot the Beast had been impaled upon by the demon vanishing into a deep crater and a cloud of dust and smoke and fire.

Screaming through the air like some agent from the gates of Hell, Demon and Beast flew madly into the skies above, roaring and rushing and whistling. Anger...blood...the sweeping winds...all were there, fused in the furnace of revenge, forged into one final act as they finally slowed, blissful silence hovering over them once more as they passed the clouds and seemed to halt there, suspended in mid-air. Isaac saw the Sun, he saw the dark clouds that were now so distant and seemed to be giving way to clear skies. He saw the vast expanse of blue, saw the scarred land beneath him, the far sight of civilisation on the horizon.

Hale, barely concious from the sudden acceleration and battering, saw the aura fade, only the burning eyes behind those pitch-black goggles still blazing with that terrible force. He idly wondered whether his life would flash before his eyes now as the sayings always said happened before he finally succumbed to the darkness.

The Crimson Demon casually flicked the fallen Beast off his sword as gravity seemed to catch a hold of them once more. Ignoring the countless red-line warnings on his goggles, he activated one last boost from his thrusters, readying his sword. Gaining on the falling body of Hale, Isaac felt sharp pains wreak havoc throughout his body, the acceleration and exhaustion threatening to knock him out. Nonetheless he withstood the g-forces and unleashed his ultimate declaration:

"From the heights of Heaven I shall send you to Hell! DESCENT OF THE ARCHANGEL!"

And so the Angel of Death struck the Beast again and again as they sped Earth-wards, falling faster and faster as blood and air and steel and flesh heated with friction. Perhaps the man known as Saxton Hale dreamt. Perhaps he saw what his life had amounted to. Perhaps he was allowed some final rest and respite from the hellfire that had been unleashed upon him.

Any room for speculation was driven away when the pair finally impacted as one, blade firmly embedded into Hale's chest once more immediately prior to landing. The world shook once more, the body driven deep into the ground as cracks and fissures cracked out and split apart, rubble and rail alike falling into the depths. The sky was blotted out with dust and dirt and smoke and shrapnel, covering the landscape of this Hell on Earth in darkness once more.

If one was to watch carefully through all the destruction and chaos, and if they were gifted in both sight and level ground in just the right position, one might notice a single dark shape flung away from the force of the impact, that one odd shape splitting into two before impacting the ground again.

###

Dell was saying something or other, possibly giving some tribute to the fallen runner, when Nils felt something stir. It was like with the others, he suddenly felt the presence of life and he held his breath. A moment later, he felt it: the first weak beat of a restarted heart. The beats slowly became faster and stronger, until it joined the harmony of heartbeats the Medic sensed around him. Ignoring the Engineer's words and presence, he felt for a pulse, desperately hoping he wasn't mistaken.

Ba-dum, ba-dum...

Nils suddenly exhaled a breath he wasn't aware he had been holding and fell to the floor. Dell rushed to his side.

"Doc! Y'alright? I know the loss is hard on ya, it is for me too, but we gotta keep our heads, it's what he would have wanted."

The German repressed the urge to start laughing and instead started crying, only this time with tears of joy as he smiled.

"Herr Conagher...ze boy...he is alive!"

The Texan looked as if he was about to try and console the clearly hysterical doctor when a spark jumped across Kevin's chest and the former-BLU Scout drew breath, eliciting attention from both men. No sooner than this apparent miracle had been observed did the first of their comrades rise to their feet. Unsurprisingly, it was the Soldier who rose to his feet, taking in the sight that surrounded him with wonder.

Jane glanced down at the thread of life that connected him to the Medigun, noting as it started to fade and shrink in size. One by one as other men stirred and rose to their feet, the threads faded and shrunk until only small tendrils still ran through them. Finally as the last of their number rose, the young boy weakly opening his eyes, the orb surrounding them became further and further transparent, the sparks ceasing to run across it as it turned completely white, shrunk and faded from existence.

At that instance, something stirred in the hearts of the mercenaries, similar to when they had felt their first Übercharge, which in itself had required surgery and heart transplants to achieve in the first place. Except unlike that time, they felt not a rush of energy and a sense of invulnerability. Instead, all of them, Dell and Nils included, felt a pleasant warmth and a strange sense of connection for an instant. Any past disagreements, any past confusion, any questions on the tip of their tongues were gone. For in that moment those nine became one and saw the souls of the men they'd march into Hell for.

They didn't know how long they stood there, basking in the sense of life, many suddenly realising just how close to death they had been. But alas, they felt a strange tugging, a warmth that was not any of those who had been within the range of effect of the Life-Sparker. Instead it was more like a distant inferno. If anyone had to describe it, they would have said it was comparable to the last ember in a fireplace trying to burst forth into one last blaze of heat and light before flickering away.

The heat was getting closer and as one, the nine mercenaries looked into the sky, barely making out a descending blur. All were silent apart from the Pyro, who's exact wording was lost underneath the mask, but regardless the spell was broken. A sudden hissing and cloud of smoke erupting from the fallen Medigun drew attention and it didn't take long for the team to scatter and run out of the way.

The Heavy and Demoman blinked twice, looking at their fleeing colleagues before putting "falling shape about to land nearby" and "overcharged device capable of saving their lives possibly about to blow up" together. The pair yelled, leapt off the vehicle and ran, the Scout and Medic already furthest away. The Engineer alone was probably the only one who pondered on why they hadn't just started the modified trailer up again and thrown the Medigun overboard. In the short span of time he had before the impact ended up shaking the world and throwing the team flying despite their distance from the landing site, Dell eventually decided that panic still got the worst of even the best of them.

And then the world vanished.

###

Nine of the world's finest mercenaries, tossed aside but mostly unharmed, together enjoy the gift of life and consider their own mortality once more in a world that wants them dead...

A Demon, now a mere man once more, lies in great pain on the edge of a deep hole, surrounded by fissures and cracks on all sides. His armour is dented, battered and has had large chunks scattered to the winds. His left arm lies by his side, just barely connected, wiring and gears strewn nearby. His right fares little better, twisted out of shape and soaking in a pile of blood. His legs are sprawled out, a bone sticking out of one quite visibly, as the LFD on his back sparks and sputters. A bloodied sword lies embedded blade-first in its own small crater nearby.

A Beast, surrounded by darkness and regret, can merely look on in shame and sorrow at the sight before him. It is her. She doesn't hold back her disgust, merely turns around and walks away, her voice echoing to the fallen man who was once on top of the world.

"I don't tolerate failures, Mr Hale. You have failed me for that last time."

As the Australian suffers in that darkness, long after she is out of sight, her words repeat in his mind forever. With that cruel voice crushing his spirit, he does what amounts to the ultimate admission of his failure, his surrender to circumstances, to endure this hellish limbo, this Earthbound Hell...

In the cover of shadows and death, Saxton Hale weeps.