Chapter 4: Second thoughts
As Moxxie walked down the tunnel, its very structure reinforced by a strong demonic curse, he stayed vigilant. Contrary to what he first expected, the tunnel was not just a straight corridor, but a series of twists and turns. Though a nuisance to anyone transporting goods, Moxxie did see the purpose of it. If anyone were to attack this place, it would be challenge for the aggressors.
Behind every corner could be a unit of guards, ready for the attackers to come and large concrete blocks positioned before every corner further cemented his theory. Walking past one, Moxxie looked down the way he came from. He could imagine how a single machine gun could pin down anyone coming his direction. Moxxie read a lot of books about warfare and fights in narrow spaces have always been to the defender's advantage. Even great numbers wouldn't help, as they could not be used to their full potential, like encircling the defenders. For any demon army it would be an uphill battle, but then Moxxie thought about a different threat.
What would happen, if the attackers could not be harmed?
If the angels were the ones attacking, it would be a very different story. There armor was impenetrable to regular firearms and even deploying large caliber weapons had its own issues. In practice, the best that could be done would be to slow them down for a while. But they would breach the defenses eventually. The armies of heaven are just on a whole different level.
After traversing the tunnels for a while now, with its dark magic faintly radiating a dark aura, Moxxie found a metal door to his right, with several warning signs on it. A lightning for high voltage, a crossed-out flame for no fires allowed, one for no unauthorized access and a simple sign above that read 'utility room'. To Moxxie's delight, the door was unlocked and inside were the things he would expect from a room like this. Inside were a generator, ventilation systems, and some water pumps, some of them running and creating a bit of noise in the process.
The machinery appeared to be rather old and outdated, at least in comparison to the ones he saw outside. Some of the pipes were leaking and were wrapped around with duck tape. Many metallic parts already began to rust and some of the wiring was exposed at some spots. The tools that were laying all over the place further made him realize, that this room had to undergo a lot of maintenance.
"Hey! What are you doing here?"
Moxxie jumped, as he heard this. Since the machinery around him drowned out all other noise, he did not hear the two hell sentinel approaching him. Said sentinels were standing in the doorway and waited for the surprised imp to respond. Moxxie stood there and wasn't sure what to say. As he tried to come up with an answer, he spotted a toolbox next to him on the ground. He remembered a few things that Blitzo has taught him about blending in in any given situation. The most important part was, to appear confident in what you were doing and your story being plausible. If done right, barely anyone will question the validity of your claims. The imp took a deep breath and tried to look as natural and professional as possible.
"I'm the technician," Moxxie stated, trying to give of the impression that he was being disturbed in his work. "One of the pipes is leaking…again."
"Pipes?" The sentinel asked as he inspected the various tubes and machines, before looking at Moxxie with suspicion, who grew more nervous.
"Why are you still hear? Didn't you get the message?"
Moxxie began to sweat a bit under his mask. "Eh what message?"
"The transmission?" The sentinel responded, holding up his radio. "Apparently there is something wrong with the guard outside. The colonel ordered all non-combatants back to base for now."
Moxxie checked his equipment. He did saw a radio transmitter on the sentinel's armor, when he took it, but he most likely lost it along with the rest of the stolen equipment. Seeing that the sentinel before him was getting impatient with Moxxie, he raised his hands a bit and acted innocent.
"Oh, I guess I forgot my radio. Sorry guys."
The sentinel shook his head in disapproval. "Fucking moron. Alright! Fuck it. Get your ass back to base. I'll give them a heads up."
Moxxie sighed in relief as he heard this. The imp quickly made his way past the sentinel, that questioned him, who kept his eye on the disguised imp and turned on his radio. The second sentinel was still standing near the door, armed with an assault rifle and the only thing separating him from his escape. Moxxie couldn't shake off the feeling, that the first sentinel was watching him, waiting to for the right moment to make a move and bust his disguise.
Then it happened.
"Hey! Wait a second!"
Moxxie felt as if he had a heart attack, as he stood still like a statue. If they caught him, they would certainly kill him. And once that happened, he would remanifest shortly after somewhere in hell, with entire armies of exterminators ready to erase his very existence from all of creation. It would be over for him. He turned around and thought about what he could do or say. But before he could do anything, the sentinel shoved something into Moxxie's hands and through his gloves he could fell that it was cold and heavy. It was a toolbox.
"I think you forgot something."
For a moment, Moxxie didn't know what to say, or what the meaning of this was. But then it finally clicked. He was the 'technician' after all. They must have thought that it belonged to him.
"Oh! Yeah, right." Moxxie replied and laughed a bit nervously. "Thanks."
"They should have sent you on guard duty instead." The sentinel muttered to himself, before gesturing to Moxxie to leave. "Now get lost, before you forget how to breath as well."
And so, without any further delay, the imp hastily made his way past the sentinel and left the utility room. Said sentinels left the room as well, making fun of Moxxie's perceived incompetence, before continuing with their patrol.
As Moxxie kept walking down the tunnel, he noticed that halfway through, the dark magic reinforcing its structure stopped. Probably because he had to be deep underground at this point and the angels would most likely not excavate half of the city for some random tunnel. So wasting such powerful energy on this would have been illogical.
At this point however he kept encountering more hell sentinels. The militiamen, dressed in gray combat gear and their pentagram masks, ignored him for the most part. The most attention he occasionally got was a short glance here and a harmless remark there. Moxxie simply walked past them and tried to act natural. With him still wearing the armor and mask, it was an easy task. While his face would have given away that he was on edge, he had the luxury that nobody could see it. With each guard he passed, the imp knew that he was getting closer to whatever was down there. The further he got the more frequent he walked into another group.
After having traveled these tunnels for like half a mile since he first entered it, the disguised imp reached its end.
Before him was a massive gateway, like the one he first came through. But unlike the outer gate, this one was made from regular steel and was at least three feet thick. However, for its lack of demonic magic, it was compensated with conventional means. The wide-open gate was guarded by no less than two dozen hell sentinels, three heavy machine guns positioned on either side of the walls and numerous claymores along the tunnel, while automated miniguns were mounted on the tunnel's ceiling.
While it reminded him a bit of the defenses back at the I.M.P. office, what caught Moxxie's attention the most, was the ammunition the machine guns were using. Since they were belt feed, he could see the glowing, silver bullets they were using.
They were made from angelic steel, enhanced with hellish energy.
Since the first guns were introduced to hell, the steel from the exterminator's weapons was melted down by skilled gunsmiths and repurposed for their firearms. While they still possessed the same ability to permanently kill a demon in hell as the original weapon they once were, the alchemists of hell found a way to further increase their lethality. By combining the holy essence within the steel with the sinful essence of hell, the projectile became unstable with these two conflicting energies. When exposed to extreme conditions, like being fired from a gun and hitting solid matter, the power inside would be released all at once in a violent fashion. It was comparable to being hit by a tank shell.
Moxxie took another glance at the heavy machine guns and thought what it would look like. He was fascinated by it and curious, he may not be as trigger happy as Blitzo, but even Moxxie wanted to see something like this in action. Though he could not see it, Moxxie wondered whether the sentinels were using angelic rounds in their small arms as well.
The guards standing at the gate eyed up the disguised imp, who didn't arouse any suspicion. At least from the outside of course. Underneath his armor Moxxie was fearing the worst at the moment. But fortunately for him, the guards just motioned him to get inside.
Though he could already see a bit from the outside what kind of place it may be, once he entered Moxxie as astonished by the sight before him.
Deep underground, save from all the dangers above, was a complex of gigantic proportions. Partially of natural origin and some parts excavated later on, this cave system stretched in all directions as far the eye could see. The ceiling was so high, that the light illuminating the ground could not reach it and was therefore plunged in darkness.
Everywhere he looked, Moxxie saw machines and production lines made from the most advanced technology that hell could offer. No matter where his gaze went the imp could see many workers, some sinners, some hell-born, operating them, while hell sentinels would patrol the perimeter.
None of the demons paid any attention to him and merely focused on their own tasks. He was safe. Moxxie looked around and saw a clock hanging on a wall nearby. It read 8:34 am.
The imp sighed. "Alright Moxxie," he told himself. "Just stay low and you can make it out alive."
Trying to determent what they were producing in this secretive place, Moxxie already realized that unlike the factory on the surface, they were not producing firearms, but more unconventional goods. At various points were massive blast furnaces being heated up by the dark flames of hellfire.
While imps were resistant to all kinds of fire, the hellfire that was used to melt whatever was inside the furnaces was so intense, that even from a couple hundred feet away it made him uncomfortable being even near it. If the machines weren't enchanted with hellish energy, everything would have melted down into a pool liquid metal or even vaporized.
Moxxie watched in awe as a cauldron the size of a small house was lifted out of one of the furnaces by an industrial crane and transported to another part of the factory. When it came to a halt, the cauldron was slowly tilted until the molten metal began pouring into a nearby tank. Though most of it was shielded by some partitions, the molten metal shined so bright that the imp felt like he was staring into the sun of earth and Moxxie felt something toxic, even hostile emitting from it, as if it was out to get him.
Further trying to find out the purpose of this place, Moxxie kept walking and analyzed his surroundings. The workers were all wearing blue jumpsuits and performed their work with pride and dedication. Many of the processes were automated and required little oversight.
Moxxie walked past an automatic workstation were a small object, somewhat resembling an incendiary grenade was carefully positioned on a pedestal. Once in position, mechanical arms emerged and began to further process the device with the precision only a machine was capable of. After doing so, it was moved onto an assembly line by another robotic arm and after that replaced by a new one before the cycle repeated.
The imp stopped, when he came across another strange machine. It was connected to the assembly line of one of the tanks with the molten metal and was resembled a large metal box with a window in its front. Inside it, Moxxie saw a single, silver bullet that was exposed to some kind of energy emitted by the machine. Said bullet began to glow the more it was irradiated, before it stopped and was moved out to be replaced by a fresh one.
Moxxie took another look back towards the massive cauldron.
"They're making bullets from angel steel." He concluded.
That explained why they needed something so extreme like hellfire for their blast furnaces. The metal made by heaven had many unique properties, one of which was its absurdly high melting point, melting it by regular means would have been a vain attempt. The ammunition made from this was a highly valuable commodity. Usually high ranking demons would buy these and give it to their subordinates whenever they needed someone gone for good, or simply to deter any possible threat.
Not wanting to arouse any suspicion, Moxxie continued to walk, but was stopped when he bumped into something huge. As the imp fell on his back the box he was carrying dropped as well, with all kinds of tools scattered over the factory floor. The disguised demon looked up to see what he bumped into and was left in shock.
Looking down on him was an imp dressed in gray sentinel armor like Moxxie, but this one was tall, even taller than Blitzo. He was buff and looked strong enough to grind Moxxie's bones to dust. But his most striking feature were his horns, that were snapped of his skull.
It was the same demon that mugged him, accompanied by his group.
The tall imp, who was not wearing a helmet unlike Moxxie, stared down at him with annoyance.
"Hey! Watch where you're going." He barked at him.
Moxxie held up his hands in defense. "I'm sorry," he said. "I wasn't paying attention."
The disguised imp quickly collected his belonging, while he felt how the buff demon looked down upon him. Moxxie felt rage boiling up within him. If it weren't for this damn imp and his goons, he wouldn't be in this mess to begin with and how having to apologize to the likes of him, just to not get caught simply added insult to injury. He wanted to make him pay, but he knew he could not win against all of them. And since they had Satan knows how many angelic rounds, his defeat would result in his eternal demise.
"Anyway, what's the situation outside?" Moxxie heard the tall imp question one of his subordinates, as he was still picking everything up.
A sentinel carrying a red pump-action shotgun turned to him. "All good colonel. I've sent two men to take a look, but they found nothing. After the guards outside investigated something strange, we've lost all contact to them for a while. After that, they gave the all-clear, though the tech guy said that there was something off about it."
Moxxie felt a shiver crawling down his spine as he heard this. Were they talking about him? And what about the exterminators? What if they realized that Moxxie was an intruder? He didn't want to stay any longer near this 'colonel' as they called him than necessary. The moment he was done picking his scattered tools, Moxxie took off and put up as much distance between him and the colonel's group as possible.
As he moved away, he could faintly hear the colonel ordering his men to increase the security around the gates, before being out of hearing range and off to another part of this factory.
After a while, Moxxie has left the main production hall and found himself in what appeared to be some kind of research and development section.
On his way he encountered all kinds of personal. From guards, to workers, even some that looked like scientists were walking past the disguised Moxxie. None of them were bothered by his presence, something he was grateful for. The less attention he was getting the better.
At some point Moxxie noticed a sign with the words 'firing range' written on it. Seeing a way to at least pass some time while being stuck down here, the imp proceeded to enter.
While other imps preferred to be more up and person in combat, Moxxie was always more inclined to use firearms. Not just from a practical standpoint, but the entire concept and history that led to the creation of such weapons has always fascinated him. Few things have changed warfare more than this and the technical aspect of it is almost like a science in of itself. He never understood how someone could not be as captivated about this as he was.
And one of the best ways for him to cope with stress or boredom were guns. Whether it was modifying them to his liking or simple target practice, with his know-how and accuracy he could get lost in his passion for hours. And having some distraction was something he desperately needed at the moment.
Extermination Day may be awful for everyone, but it was never that chaotic for him before. In all his years, he never had to actually deal with an exterminator before. The worst it has ever gotten, was to drive away one of them with a remotely controlled turret at the office, but that was it. The whole day he was being chased by either them, beasts or the one militiaman. His head felt like it was about to pop and his muscles were sore. If it weren't for that damn colonel and his men he would have been save by now. Out of all the demons in the pride ring, that good for nothing brute had to choose him as his victim and brought him into this mess, took his favorite rifle and…
As Moxxie opened the door to the firing range, he immediately ran into someone else. Like before he fell backwards on the floor and heard how his toolbox did the same, before its content was scattered once again across the ground. That was it. Enough was enough.
"Oh, you Motherfucker!"
Enraged, Moxxie grabbed the empty metal box. He didn't even saw who it was and frankly, he didn't give a fuck. He was pissed and have had it with all of this. All he wanted to do was to make someone else suffer for once and this someone was right in front of him. Having his eyes closed in blind rage, he threw the toolbox and shortly after he heard how it hit something, followed by a painful moan.
Opening his eyes, he turned his gaze towards his victim and his enraged expression turned surprise, before being replaced by hatred and disgust.
Lying on the ground before him, covering its hurt face with its hands, was an angel.
Generally speaking, there were three kinds of angels one could encounter in hell.
First were the exterminators. These heavenly soldiers were among the most feared creatures in the nine cycles. Despite having no magical abilities themselves, they compensated this with their state of the arc technology and brutality. Their masks became the symbol of heavens relentless and unforgiving nature. They were responsible for the demise of hundreds of millions, if not billions of souls.
Second, were the high-ranking nobles that fell along with Lucifer after their failed rebellion against God. Though most of them did not possessed the same powers as the current ruler of hell, many were still as powerful as most of hell's nobility at the time. Ever since they were ruling alongside them and forged their plans against God and his kingdom.
The third and last group, were the fallen angels that have been banished by heaven for various reasons. But unlike the fallen rebels, heaven didn't want to repeat the same mistake and therefore stripped them of their divine powers, to ensure that they would not pose a threat against them ever again. With nobody on their side, they became one of the most hated beings in existence. Despised by both the denizens of heaven and hell.
And Moxxie as well.
As long as he could think, these so-called 'embodiments of virtue' have caused nothing but suffering to him and those he held dear. Too many times had he lost friends and family during the exterminations, many of them were better people than most humans. Too many times had all of hell suffered at the hands of heaven and its judgmental, arrogant people. Who viewed his kind with abhorrence and as a stain, that deserved to be removed from creation. Who did nothing but pose their own view of justice and virtue onto others, and punishing any minor offence without mercy, all while telling others to be kind and forgiving your neighbor. Except those down below of course, whether they ended up here because of their sins or for committed the crime of being born in the wrong realm.
And now, watching one these hypocritical beings residing here in hell with him made him fell nothing but disgust.
The angel, a male humanoid with light gray skin, white hair, a broken halo and messed up white wings, was still sitting on the ground and pressed a hand against his forehead. Blood was dripping down his face and dropped onto his orange jumpsuit.
Moxxie huffed at the sight. "Serves you right." He spoke.
The angel looked at the imp in gray combat gear and concealed face with a mixture of anger and defeat, before lowering his head.
"I'm sorry." He said silently.
The imp didn't respond. He just watched as the angel slowly got off the floor and started gathering the scattered items Moxxie dropped, his head hanging low the whole time. After everything he has been through today, seeing an angel like this was a highlight for him. One of these pure and mighty beings, that offered his kind nothing but oppression and terror, now kneeling before an imp and at his mercy. All of his divinity and where did it get him in the end?
"Say, how did someone so pure and innocent like you even ended up here?" Moxxie asked in a mocking tone.
That was mean and he knew it. But how often did he get a chance like this? An imp making fun of an angel? Said angel just kept picking everything up and putting it back into the box, that hit him on his head. However, it was more than obvious that he was not happy with his situation.
"Did you had more fun than they would allow you up there?", Moxxie continued. "Did you take your preciouses lord's name in vain? Or did you forgot to say 'bless you' when someone sneezed?"
Underneath his mask, Moxxie began to laugh maliciously. It may not make anything better, but for once being the one picking on someone felt just too good in the moment. Especially if it was someone he hated so much like an angel. The angel stopped what he was doing. His whole body was shivering in sorrow and anger. And just barely loud enough to be registered by the imp, Moxxie heard how the angel said something, but was too quiet to actually understand him.
"What was that?" Moxxie asked, expecting some kind excuse about how he didn't deserve this and the imp was the bad guy in the end.
But much to his surprise, the angel grabbed the toolbox and slammed it on the floor before he turned to the imp with tears in his eyes and yelled at him.
"I stood up for you! That's what I did!"
Moxxie stood there and was in loss of words. He must have heard something wrong. Anything else wouldn't make any sense…right?
"What? What do you mean?"
The angel lowered his head again sobbed for a moment.
"You think we all want you demons dead, don't you? That we want to get rid of you?"
For a moment Moxxie tried to come up with a response, but he was still too surprised. As the angel looked at Moxxie again, his face was wet from his own tears and blood.
"Well, we don't! Quite a few of us are against all of this. In heaven, they call this day 'the great cleanse' and they call the soldiers they send 'exorcists'. They say that they are the ones who protect us, by cleansing the afterlife of all the evil that resides in it. But many of us know, that that's a lie…or at least not the whole story their telling us."
Moxxie felt how his hatred was gone as the angel kept weeping before him. There was not a lot of information about what was going on in heaven, that was available to the masses. The demon took a deep breath and asked another question. This time with sincerity.
"And how did you end up here?"
Wiping his face, the angel looked at Moxxie and his face turned serious.
"I stood before a council and told them what I thought about this. I told them how this was wrong. That it goes against everything heaven thought us. And these 'exorcists' are in no way better than the 'evil' they are supposedly slaying. And that I would not stand up for this."
He said these words with pride and honor, as if he still firmly held onto his morals. But then his expression darkened and he looked back towards the ground in shame.
"They were not pleased by this. The called me a sinner. A deviant, whose soul could not be saved if don't repent for my impure thoughts. They demanded that I never speak out against the lord's will ever again. But I couldn't. And so, the banished me. Separated me from my family and friends, and now I am here. Then, I heard about the hell sentinels and what they were doing. I wanted to join them, not to fight against heaven, but to protect the innocent."
As Moxxie was about to say something, the fallen angel smashed his fist on the ground in rage.
"But what did they do? When that colonel heard of me, he ordered his men to beat me up until I was on the verge of death. After that, they sent me down here, treat me like a slave and told me to be thankful for letting me live."
The angel picked up the toolbox and gave it to Moxxie, who took it without saying a word.
"All I wanted…was to help your people."
With that being said, the heavenly being walked out the door and Moxxie was left alone at the firing range. For minutes he stood there motionless, unable to form a single thought in his mind. He then put the toolbox he was carrying for far too long now away and walked towards a nearby mirror.
Instead of his own familiar reflection, all he saw was a hateful and heartless being dressed in gray like an exterminator. Instead of his face, he saw a gray mask with the hell sentinel's pentagram on it. Expressing nothing but ruthlessness and hatred.
All his live he had seen angels as these snobbish, elitist monsters, that would not hesitate to wipe out all of his kind with pleasure. Hell was a place filled to the brim with awful people, no one was denying that. But even among this cesspool he called his home, there were those that differed from the norm.
There are many demons, sinners and hell-born alike, that were overall good people and simply had no choice but to be just as terrible as the rest, merely to survive in this cruel and horrible realm. And even among those that were more in a moral gray zone, they often displayed traits that heaven would call virtues.
Blitzo was despite all his flaws still an imp that cared about those he held dear. Millie was his angel of death, but she was the sweetest and most wonderful woman he had ever met. Even total stranger like Jamie had helped him, when no one else did. And in the eyes of heaven and its people, all of them deserved to be erased from existence, indiscriminately exterminated like vermin and not wasting as single thought whether these creatures even deserved the befit of the doubt. How could he not despise an angel for all of this?
But now, he wasn't so sure anymore. The idea of an angel showing empathy towards his kind, even sacrificing his place in heaven for it, was unthinkable for Moxxie. If a demon would have told him that, he would have thought it to be a joke.
But this was no joke.
Moxxie tried to tell himself that this angel was lying, making it up for some reason. Yet no matter how much he tried to believe that, deep down he knew that he had told him the truth and that his words were spoken with sincerity. That he really did stood up against the suffering of the demons.
And how did Moxxie treat him for it?
He wanted to take his helmet off, just to breath freely for a moment. But he could not bring himself to do it. He just could not look into his own face. Once again, he felt nothing but hatred and disgust. This time however, it was towards himself.
His thoughts were interrupted when the room was engulfed in a deep red light and a loud siren was howling throughout the entire facility.
For a moment Moxxie had no idea what was going, until a voice was heard through the intercom and his blood froze upon hearing it.
"Attention all personal! Exterminators have breached the outer gate! All combat personal are to gather at the inner gate immediately! This is not a drill! Repeat! This not a drill!"