In the first age, in the first battle, when the shadows first lengthened, one stood. Burned by the embers of Armageddon, his soul blistered by the fires of Hell and tainted beyond ascension, he chose the path of perpetual torment. In his ravenous hatred he found no peace; and with boiling blood he scoured the Umbral Plains seeking vengeance against the dark lords who had wronged him. For eons he suffered, rancorous in his rampage of retribution, and without pause, he etched terror into the hearts of the abysmal shadow-dwellers, striking fear into the lowest of their kin. He witnessed untold worlds and universes fall to Hell's demonic clutches, and with rage ever-growing, he crusaded against the blackened souls of the damned, unbreakable, incorruptible, and unyielding in his conquest to end the dominion of the dark realm. By his vengeful fists, the beasts of the nine circles fell endlessly, the blood of the wicked painting his mind, body, and soul. Through the passage that preys upon the weak, he prevailed, and impenetrable in his onslaught, he travelled between worlds and through time saving one world after another from unholy consumption. Though his name and influence spread throughout the multiverse as none had before, he remained oblivious to such fame, set on banishing all that were left unbroken by his savagery to the void.

Through many dimensions he travelled, and over his continued existence, he unveiled the lies and treachery of the Ancient Ones. His conquest everlasting, he sought retribution in all quarters, dark and light, fire and ice, in the beginning and the end. Striking down all who dared face him, he punished the First Ones and crushed the essence of the Creator. Wrathful in his step, he sought to end the eternal war, and unfaltering, he stole the essence of the Dark Lord and took it to the Beginning. He watched, hateful in his gait as the Luminarium brought forth the first Primeval, and thus started the Beginning of the End. Unwavering, he stood as evil followed the abysmal shadows, the Dark Lord conjuring the Elder Demon Gods, the Armies of Armageddon rising to challenge all of Creation. But even as the treacherous shade stretched on between realities indefinitely, he stood among them unfettered, immovable, invincible.

He ripped and tore, until it was done.

And now, it is done. Hell was doomed.

The ancient pillars of the once holy Jekkad roared as their forms crumbled, the deepest and darkest pits of the Dark Realm falling apart, returning to the nothingness that had borne in. The denizens of Jekkad, Hell kin of all shapes and sizes roared in rage and terror to the Unholy Sigil as they were banished to the void by his will. Every last one of the Six Seals broke at once, the fires of Hell extinguishing in the blink of an eye. The broken, bleeding carcasses of the Ancient Primevals lay in pieces on the fleshy ground, their remains crawling along the Umbral Plains like a lake of blood, showcasing the power of the Destroyer.

As Hell itself finally began to fall, he stood at the top where nobody else could, his ever relentless conquest to rip and tear finally coming to its righteous end. With blazing barrels of brimstone clutched in his wrathful fingers, he pressed Lucifer's Bane, the Diabolical Musket against the skull of the Dark Lord, Davoth, the first Primeval, the God of Jekkad. Davoth glared hatefully, his eyes glowing with passion and loathing as he kneeled at the behest of his inverse, the Demonic Crucible stabbed to the hilt within the crust of Jekkad.

The strongest Primeval, the one who had risen from the dust to the cosmos in divine authority, the Doom Slayer glared back through the cold visor of his impenetrable armor, the Praetor Suit, with righteous fury, the eons worth of torment he had endured flashing through his mind in an instant. Everything he had lost, everything he had done to get to this point, every last demon he had torn to veritable shreds with his bare hands, every last god he had turned to piles of meat by his will, everything he had sacrificed... everything that he had loved.

Daisy.

...

"You... will never find peace."

...

It all ends here.

Without another moment of hesitation, he pulled the trigger, and the Super Shotgun boomed with Argent splendor as it cast his vitriol upon the Dark Lord, Argent flames erupting from its twin barrels, Wraithfire leaping from the muzzle. As Davoth's shadowy form fell, the Slayer's Crucible sang its song of Doom, the Immortal Destroyer cleaving through Primeval flesh and bone, sapping the strength of Creation and Destruction.

As the Dark Lord fell to the Slayer's divine might, so too did Hell finally break apart. The Hell dimension, the first world, birthplace of Jekkad and its people, unbound by the laws of space and time, was finally no more.

And as everything fell apart around him, the Slayer gazed up at the infernal sky, the cold fury in his heart sated for the first time in trillions of years. He closed his eyes. His conquest was over, thus, so was he. For eons he had wasted away, slaughtering every last demon he could get his hands on, living for the sole purpose of tearing Hell asunder. But now that the source of his pain was gone, now that everything he had fought for has been avenged, what was left for him?

Nothing...

The Father no longer sat upon his throne of Creation, nor did the Seraphim stand by his side. In their states, neither of them could enter the realm of Jekkad, even if they wanted to. Returning to the Fortress of Doom was no longer possible—it was too far out of range for a portal—and even with his impossible speed and power, Hell was collapsing far too fast for him to go anywhere. Not even Intern Guy was around to aid him...

Knowing this, the Great Slayer decided to go out with a bang. Returning his arsenal to where it belonged, he held up both fists, then raised both middle fingers in the biggest 'fuck you' gesture the omniverse had ever seen. The ground shook as if responding to his taunt, and the flesh and bone beneath his feet began to give way.

But before Hell could cease its infernal existence and bring him down with it, an army of souls appeared before him. Thousands upon thousands of fallen Night Sentinels soared from their totems in the Blood Swamps of the Ingmar Sanctum, cheering him on, saluting him. They roared his victory, and as the Slayer's vision turned white, the last sounds he heard were that of his calling as they spirited him away to safety.

"KAR EN TUK! KAR EN TUK!"


The Great Red was a powerful, prideful, and arguably delinquent being, a dragon that was so powerful that only the Ouroboros Dragon or the Trihexa could rival his might. He did what he wanted, when he wanted it, and nobody could do a fucking thing about it lest they wanted to be erased from existence.

For thousands upon thousands of years, he wandered the Dimensional Gap, doing flips and tricks, defending it, doing pretty much whatever he wanted. He was the Dragon of Dreams and Illusions, and by his will, whatever he wanted happened. He cared not for what anybody else really thought of him, their stupid little theories about how he came to being never really bothering him that much. In truth, his background, while known by little to none, was far more complicated than any other and was tied to that of the Ouroboros Dragon's, going back a very, very long time.

See, many, many, many, many, many millennia ago, Red and Ophis had once been siblings serving as war dragons for a long forgotten and extinct people called the Argenta. The Argenta led a powerful, multiverse-wide empire that stretched on endlessly for light years, dominating all other forms of life in existence and spreading their influence to endless cultures. They were a good, law-abiding people, though they did have a long legacy defined by war.

The dragon siblings knew—for generations they fought alongside the elite soldiers of the Argenta, the Night Sentinels, and in their days of glory they'd conquered warring clans and took down massive, ferocious beasts the likes of which had never been seen. The Night Sentinels had been masters of technology and magic, and although World-Destroying entities and calamity bringers called Ancestrals roamed the planets, transforming the land with their very breaths, the Night Sentinels brought them down.

The siblings held a certain level of respect for the Night Sentinels for their philosophy. The siblings were not pets, not creatures to be ridden, but equals to their Night Sentinel comrades, having free will despite being a part of their army. They held respect for one another and were like brothers and sisters when in battle, in spite of their difference in species. It had been an honor to fight by their side.

Everything changed however, when they invaded. The demons. It wasn't the devils mind you—those pussies were nothing compared to the real Hell's monstrosities. The demons came relentlessly, consuming all in their path with ravenous hatred and hunger for anything living, be it human, Sentinel, animal, or plant. Entire worlds—nay, entire universes were consumed by their terrible and corrupt power, absorbed into Hell's realm as races and species were tainted and transmogrified into powerful demons themselves. Fighting them had been horrifying for both Red and Ophis, especially when they witnessed their kin fall in battle, only for those kin to become demons themselves, far more powerful than they had been before they'd been damned.

Despite their fears, the dragon siblings stood strong and proud alongside the Night Sentinels, and they held back the demonic forces long enough for him to arrive. The champion of the Argenta, the strongest king of the Night Sentinels, the Great Slayer himself. When he graced the battlefield with his presence, the demons fell by the millions to his hands alone. No matter how large or how powerful, whether they be the fodder Imps, the ferocious Barons of Hell, or even the World-Eating Demonic Titans, the champions of Hell all fell to his might. Fighting by his side had been an honor and a privilege. Without him, countless Sentinel worlds would have fallen to the demons.

Then, the treachery was unveiled. Fighting with valor by the Doom Slayer's side, a single legion of Night Sentinels discovered the truth about the demons, and how the worshipped Sentinel Gods, the Maykrs, had betrayed their subjects. The Holy Maykr Angels, beings who had brought prosperity upon the Argentians, ones that brought peace and justice wherever they flew, had been working with the demons!

The dragon siblings shared shock and anger with the Sentinel legion, and with the Doom Slayer in tow, they sought to rectify this unholy treaty. However, their honor was undone by deceit, and the Sentinel legion was betrayed by the Holy Priests of Argenta. As their numbers dwindled under the demonic onslaught that followed the treachery, the dragon siblings stilled as fear crept into their hearts. They didn't want what happened to their kin to happen to them. They saw how the souls were consumed by the darkness—tortured endlessly into submission, toyed with by the forces of Hell. As the last of the Sentinels fell with only the Great Slayer remaining, the siblings escaped via slipgate and closed it behind them, but instead of arriving on another Sentinel world, they found themselves stranded in an another universe entirely. That was when they had first arrived in the dimensional gap together, several billions of years ago.

Things had been far from over however. Over time, the duo changed and grew more powerful. Red became the delinquent True Dragon that he was today, as did Ophis become the emotionless Ouroboros Dragon of Infinity. A couple millennia after they arrived in the new universe, Earth became a thing, as did all the life that surrounded it. The Biblical God came into being, along with the Greek, Roman, Norse, and others. Species like devils, angels, vampires, humans and various youkai came to roam the Earth as well. From the ambient power of the dragon siblings, new dragons were born as well.

Over time, powerful beings grew complacent, and the dragon siblings were ashamed to admit that they too grew cocky with their ever-growing power. It was only when the demons attacked again did they realize how weak they had become in their arrogance.

In a mere four months, Earth had been totally consumed by the demons. Despite all of the powerful reality-defying magics and powers that all of the species wielded, gods included, none of them had harnessed the power called Argent Energy, the only known magic to effectively combat the demons, said demons using it themselves. None of them could command the power of the Wraiths. They were fucked.

Men, women, and children died by the millions, and the magics that they wielded became corrupted by Hell's influence before they were turned against those who were left. Corrupted flesh and bone borne from the slaughter of the innocent covered the Earth like a plague, consuming it, absorbing it into Hell's world. The spearhead of their invasion, the dreaded Icon of Sin warped reality with its mere presence. Simply by existing in Earth's domain, the Hell titan caused infrastructure worldwide to crumble. Back then, Red and Ophis, despite their immeasurable power, only managed to barely hold off the World-Eater. Earth would have been doomed... if not for his arrival yet again.

Despite the utter hopelessness of the situation, the Slayer had appeared and single-handedly stopped the Hell invasion with his arsenal of retribution. Where Red and Ophis could only barely hold back the Icon of Sin, he had utterly and completely annihilated it without breaking a sweat. It was like a fucking cakewalk for him.

Without a word to the goddamn world, he left as soon as the invasion was over. He didn't even realize that Red and Ophis had been there. All of that had happened a mere five-thousand years ago. Most if not all of the species remembered him as a vengeful god stronger than any other, but with time, his memory began to fade, and when the Great War happened a couple thousand years later, he was forgotten amongst the chaos. The only images of him left in this universe were the...Relics of Doom.

All of that being said, when the Great Red suddenly felt that commanding, powerful, ever-angry divine presence grace him yet again, even if only for a millisecond, Red nearly shat himself in reverence. For once in his life, he paused in his flips and tricks, and turned frantically towards the source, his eyes wide.

"The... The Great Slayer... is here!?"

It took him a moment to confirm the no, he was not imagining things and that yes, the Slayer was here in the Dimensional Gap. He pinched himself anyways, just to be sure that he wasn't asleep, and sure enough, he wasn't. So enthralled was he by the Unchained Predator's presence that he didn't even register Ophis appearing by his side, the dragon-loli looking just as shocked as him despite her usual emotionless demeanor.

"B-Baka-Red? Is Slayer-sama... here?"

He didn't register the question either. Instead, a dilemma was currently working its way through his draconic cognizance. The Great Slayer himself was here in the Dimensional Gap! But why? It's only been five-thousand years! There wasn't a demon invasion going on back on Earth, was there? No, surely not—he would have noticed by now. But if there wasn't a demon invasion going on, and the Slayer wasn't off holding back the demonic hordes like he was normally wont to do, then what was he here for? The only reason he would ever leave Hell was if a planet was in danger, but if nothing was in danger then that meant...

"No way..."

Ophis quite uncharacteristically pouted at Red, miffed at his ignorance of her.

"What is it, Baka-Red?"

"..."

"... Baka-Red?"

"... It is done."

The dragon-loli's jaw slackened when she heard this. Then, with further shock filling her body, she felt it as well. The ambient evil that Hell leaked out in all corners of the multiverse—it was no longer there. Hell was gone.

As if a switch had been flipped, her expression immediately brightened. "Then... that means... Slayer-sama is here to stay? If Hell is finished, he won't leave again. Right, Baka-Red?"

Red turned towards Ophis in alarm, but paused when he saw the heavy blush on her face. She stared at nothingness in a daze, drool dripping from the corner of her mouth as her lips tugged into a small smile. "Oh. Shit."

Despite technically being genderless, Ophis kinda had a crush on the Slayer. Red wasn't sure why and he wasn't really one to judge. Especially since he could see the Slayer's magnificence for himself. Just feeling that irresistible power beckoned him to either submit or fight back, and, having seen what the Slayer could do first hand, he was more than willing to go with the former. It wasn't like Red was a big fan of the guy as well though. Heh, totally not.

Before anything more could be said or done however, the Slayer's signature disappeared into one of the many realms of the universe...

...

...

...

"S-Slayer... sama?" Almost instantly, tears formed at the corners of the dragon-loli's eyes. Red paled in realization.

For endless lengths of time, Ophis had longed for the day her precious Slayer-sama would return to this universe. She waited for eons and eons, patient as could be. For him to return would make her elated! But for him to return only to be immediately stripped away again?

'That can't be good.'

In the next moment, the infinite emptiness of the Dimensional Gap was filled with the ferociously terrifying sound of a nigh-omnipotent dragon-loli crying anime tears, the other nigh-omnipotent dragon unsure of what to do, unable to take any action other than pat the sad girl on the back as she crushed his bones in a needy hug.

"O-Oi, Ophis! I can't breath!"

"Waaaah! Slayer-sama!"

Welp, one thing was for sure. Anything that gets in the Slayer's way is fucked.


When the Doom Slayer's eyes finally snapped open from the temporary stasis he had been subjected to, eons worth of anger and rage flooded his body, filling it to the brim. In that instant, the only thing he knew was the loathing held within and the suffering he had been forced to endure for millennia. In that instant, beings across dimensions were subjected to his wrathful aura, and every last entity that could sense his immense rancor went insane.

Gods went wild as the impending feeling of Doom itself washed over them, and they were thrown into fits of uncontrollable rage and terror as their arrogance and pride told them to strike down the source of their distress. Devils and angels shook in their boots as untold amounts of unadulterated malice tore at their minds, bodies, and souls. Dragons and various youkai shivered as a powerful, dominating presence settled itself upon them, and those who weren't strong-willed enough to handle it were forced to submit, seemingly bowing their heads at nothing.

Fortunately, in the next instant, the raging storm calmed as memories of what had just occurred flashed through the Slayer's head, the boiling blood within his iron veins cooling to a simmer. Hell... Jekkad had been finished for good. The entire dimension had been erased, along with everything in it. It was over.

For the first time in an eternity, the Hellwalker let out a satisfied huff, the rage that had blinded him for so long receding a bit...

It was over... all of the pain he had carried, the burden of perpetual torment he shouldered, the sacrifices he had made, the love that he lost—it wasn't in vain. It had finally all been avenged. He could finally rest. He could be at peace.

...

... Who was he fucking kidding. He would never be at peace. He had been fighting with hate for so long that his rage was an innate part of his being. They took everything from him, and although slaughtering them had brought him limited solace, nothing was going to bring them back. Nothing was going to bring her back. His precious little bunny, Daisy...

The Slayer scowled silently as the anger he had just extinguished rose once more. There was no point in thinking about it now. He had trillions of years to get over it, but even now he was still brooding. If he was going to be stuck with this curse forever, then so be it, but he wasn't going to sit there and mope about it, or let it stop him from relaxing. At the very least, the demons wouldn't be hurting anyone else and that's all he really wanted.

Right now, he needed to figure out where he had been teleported to.

After a pregnant moment of silence, the Unchained Predator was standing at his feet, his armored fists clenched at his sides as the Praetor Suit did an omnidirectional scan, searching for anything noteworthy. He looked around with a keen eye, noting that he was in a large cave of some sort—more of a cavern with the sheer size of the structure.. The ceiling was several dozen feet above the ground with stalactites hanging from it, pointing down at their stalagmite counterparts. There must've been water running from somewhere—possibly ground water leaking through the numerous cracks lining the roof of the cavern if such cave structures had come to grow so large. Perhaps a river or a pond? If that is the case, then it's most likely that he is in an underground cave rather than a mountain cave—unless the mountain had a river running through it.

The Slayer turned his gaze to the cave walls which were marred with large claw marks—something at least the size of a Baron of Hell. The image of the large demon flared in his mind and an ugly scowl came to his lips, but after a moment he let it go. Hell was gone. Stop fucking thinking about it.

Huffing as he shook his head slightly, the Slayer focused back on the task at hand. Claw marks lined the walls, which meant something big had lived or fought here. The scratches weren't very old neither, so whatever happened here, happened recently. It was probably still nearby...

Three consecutive blips notified him that the Praetor Suit had finished its scans. He gave a short nod of approval, and turned to see a waypoint on his HUD leading to the cave exit. It wasn't too far away. With that, he took off in a jog.

He didn't get too far before something gave him pause.

The cave suddenly shook as something from deep within roared aggressively, the shockwaves bouncing off the walls and cracking the already damaged ceiling further, stalactites breaking off and falling atop their counterparts below. The Slayer merely turned his head and glared at the perpetrator in annoyance, his wrathful stare sending waves of his apathetic ire towards whatever beast had dared to hinder his progress. He was somewhat surprised to see a very Sentinel-esque blue-scaled dragon glaring back at him. It made him stop for a moment.

Was he really on a Sentinel world? No, he couldn't be. They were all gone as far as he remembered.

The Hellwalker was snapped out of his thoughts as the dragon roared again, and seeing its hateful gaze, he turned to face it fully. He gave it a cold, unimpressed stare, his hands preemptively balling into fists. Whatever—the Slayer wasn't one to start fights for no reason unless demons were involved, but if this thing wanted a piece of the pie, he would deliver the whole fucking package.

Without warning, the dragon charged forward, its powerful wings ripping chunks of rock out of the sides of the cave, each one of its heavy foot steps cratering the ground as if a Hell Knight were running a marathon. The Slayer continued to glower coldly, giving it one last chance to leave him be. When it didn't kindly fuck off, he made his move. He faced it head-on, then dashed forward, glaring as his fists blazed with Argent splendor.

The urge to rip and tear sky-rocketed, and with his fury growing ever-more potent, the Scourge of Hell raised his iron fist to punch the blood out of this fucker. He moved, faster than any other thing this world could comprehend, and the dragon gave another roar as he threw the first punch...

Something changed.

The very moment before his fist impacted, the Slayer stopped, his ire leaving him. Where the blue-scaled dragon had once stood, a beautiful, blue-haired woman took its place. A naked blue-haired woman.

...

With lightning quick-reflexes, the Unchained Predator caught the woman in his arms to keep her from tumbling to the ground. The moment he caught her however, she wrapped her arms and legs around him like a snake coiling around its prey. She squeezed him tightly, pressing her large breasts against the chest-plate of his armor. When he looked, he noticed that there was a content smile on her face, and her eyes were closed as she tried to snuggle deeper into the Praetor Suit.

"Master! It's been so long!" she said in a delighted, mature voice, smiling up at him.

The Hellwalker was confused. A myriad of questions went through his mind at that moment.

Master? This woman thought that he was her master? Why was there even a woman here? Where did the dragon...? Wait, she was the dragon. One of those rare shape-shifting dragons from long ago, back on Sentinel Prime. But... no, none of the Sentinels owned any dragons—neither did he. They had fought alongside dragons, not as their masters. But apparently, this one had a master?

Narrowing his eyes, the Slayer placed an armored hand atop the woman's head and pushed her away. She fell on her naked ass, her breasts bouncing from the motion, and when she realized what had happened, she stared up at the Slayer in shock and a little bit of hurt. Her sad expression made the Slayer furrow his eyebrows even more, but he didn't do anything other than give her a questioning look that burned through her soul.

Despite being unable to see his face, she seemed to understand the unasked question, getting to her feet, though the sad expression never left her face. "Eheh, I apologize if it looked as though I was attacking you, Master. It's just, it's been so long since I've last seen you. I missed you so much."

He continued to stare unflinchingly.

"Erm, Master...? Don't you remember me?"

"..."

"I-It's me, Tiamat! Don't you remember!? You saved me from that wretch. The... the Icon of Sin."

Hearing that name made him bristle, and he raised his head in recognition—an action that did not go unnoticed.

"So, you remember?" the identified Tiamat asked hopefully.

She had misunderstood. He had only reacted because she had mentioned the Icon of Sin... The name made him scowl inwardly. That metric meat-bag had been a repeat offender during many Hell invasions—a real pain in the ass to deal with every time it consumed or tried to consume a world. The Hellwalker was glad he wouldn't have to deal with that piece of shit again.

That being said, Tiamat mentioned being saved from the wrath of the Icon of Sin by him. If that was the case, then that meant this was one of the world's he had saved before... Now that he thought about it, he had never actually visited any of the worlds he had saved before unless it was one of Sentinel origin.

Still, he shook his head in response to Tiamat's question. He never cared to remember any of the worlds he saved anyways either. The only thing he had cared about was ripping and tearing.

"Oh..." A dejected look crossed her beatific face. He raised a brow when she bounced back almost instantly. "That's alright! It has been five-thousand years after all, I suppose. I'm sure there are plenty of things that you need to catch up on, Master. Would you care to?"

"..."

He took a moment to think and analyze his situation. The Slayer wasn't stupid. He realized by now that he was more than likely confined to this planet for a while. His ship was gone, and so were the Argenta. He didn't have that old tether-system either. If he was going to be stuck here, then he might as well get to know everything he can. From there, he could figure out what the fuck he wanted to do with his life. Now that Hell was gone... he could do whatever he wanted he supposed. Maybe try to find peace within himself as fruitless as an endeavor that might turn out to be.

He scrutinized the nude dragon-woman before him once again, and the Chaos Karma Dragon, Tiamat, quivered as she felt his judgment. She sighed in relief a moment later when the feeling left, and looked up to see the Slayer nod.

Tiamat's expression brightened at that. "Great! Why don't you come inside, Master?"

She went deeper into the cave, and the Slayer followed silently, interest piqued.


On a large, nondescript airbus headed for Japan, a certain blonde-haired nun jolted in her seat as a wave of something passed over her. Despite never before having felt such a thing, there was a certain amount of familiarity within it that she couldn't quite shake off. For a moment, she was tempted to let it go...

But then everything came back. All of the memories of a past life she never knew she'd lived rammed into her like a truck, a life in which she had not been a human, but rather, a bunny. Memories of the loving and caring man who had raised her came flooding back, and with the realization of what was happening, she gazed out the window as tears came to her eyes.

'Father... You've come home.'

Asia "Daisy" Argento smiled wistfully as she closed her eyes.


A/N: Here ya FUCKING GO! Blegh. I'm sorry. Kill me.

Signing off,

Sir Yeetus Deletus.