The team of people, drifters, an ex-drifter, a small child, and a demon all burst into the giant chamber from a long and winding pathway, being led by a sniper that was practically stepping over his own feet in exhaustion. He set down the little girl he had been carrying and ushered them away from the great walls around them, shaking under the stress of the repeated thudding movements. He had led them further into the cave rather than out of it, because Clive had a pretty good idea of the source of the noise. It was the only loose end he had left to tie up, and it would probably become the most difficult.
"Arm yourselves, everyone!" He called in such a commanding tone, that the others didn't even dare to disobey him. Silently, Catherine passed Clive back his gun, who accepted it with a fond nod. She noticed this only gradually, but whenever Clive had raised his voice lately, it sounded different, like the voice of somebody else. Though she did not know it, Catherine was recognizing the voice of Boomerang, creeping into Clive's identity. Kaitlyn took her mother's hand and also stayed quiet, though she had a thousand questions set aside to ask. She also noticed this change too. The metal demon raised a hand, and pointed into the shadows at the far end of the room, where the deep ambient sounds were radiating from. The three other members of the Maxwell Gang obligingly pointed their weapons at the darkness, waiting to see what would happen next. Clive lowered his voice, and did not know where his next few words came from.
"…Pathetic fool, seeking the dreams of the sleeping souls and lost ones…" He hissed, "Come out of your hiding, damned raven. Come out and face the light." Virginia and Catherine looked uncertainly at Clive, but the weak light shining off his glasses did not show them their true colour. Clive's hand came to rest by his sides, just after slinging Gungnir over his shoulder. It almost seemed like he was going to make a grab for an item that he expected to be there, but wasn't.
Thud. Thud.
He emerged almost like it was on Clive's command, or else, it must have been impeccable timing. The shadows, nearly solid at the very back end of the great chamber, parted way to allow a great form space, it's armored feet crushing rock and stone underfoot. Blood red metal plating moved with tremendous effort, a low rumble of a huge engine powering the great beast onwards. Most of the colour drained from the human's faces as they saw this monster, plodding, at a pace of near eternity, over to the weak bodies, puny and flimsy in comparison. Comparing themselves to this giant would be like comparing an ant to a fully grown horse, and it felt the same, too. They all got the feelings that as they lived through their lives and died, that this creature would survive the impact of the ages, and live on forever. Gallows dropped his gun while he gaped, Virginia lowered her arms, unsure of whether to be impressed, or frightened. Jet looked stoic, but he was gripping his gun more tightly than usual, his face drawn and tight.
A long time passed, and then strangely ceremoniously, Diablo raised it's arms and held the great limbs out in front of it's body, not vertically, but with it's elbows bent, in a horizontal 'C' shape, leaving room between it's hands with it's stubby fingers splayed out and still. The giant groaned, lowering it's head, bowing it, like it was in some kind of prayer. For now, it had made no moves to attack the drifters in front of it, yet. A figure emerged, appearing in a slow hazing motion, right in the center of the golem's bent arms. It floated like it was suspended in zero gravity, seemingly asleep, standing straight, but with it's head tilted back so that it would be looking at the ceiling, had it's eyes been open. The figure glowed faintly, surrounded by a silver aura. They all recognized this figure instantly, it was definitely Ravendor.
He opened his eyes suddenly, like a machine being switched on, and lent forward, with the motion of somebody getting used to an old body again. That was exactly what he was doing. Diablo shut itself down, for the time being. Ravendor looked over the motley team of people assembled in front of him, and fixed his gaze specifically on Clive. How different the drifter looked now, less cheerful, less childlike. So serious, so careworn. However, there were others in the group that also had his personal attention. "A pleasure to see you all again, truly." He said mildly, though hidden poison dripped off each syllable. "Milady Maxwell, Jet, and my dear friend Clive, how are you all doing?"
The demon's grip on the strap of his ARM tightened considerably, but so also did Catherine's grip on his other hand, calming him down. She looked at him worriedly, but Clive made no other motion than that. Jet was scowling at the dark-haired man, and it seemed that his trigger finger was getting awfully itchy, but, out of all of them, it was Virginia who cracked first, with hardly any provocation at all. "Don't you dare call me that!" She said darkly, aiming her pistols straight at his heart. "How dare you! How dare you mess around with people's families like that?! Have you no conscience at all?!"
The bandit leader smiled. "Yes, I see the resemblance now." He said softly, in almost a soothing voice. "I was puzzled at first, because you looked so much like your mother, but now I can see that part of Werner in you, it is almost like a fire flickering in the darkness. You are his daughter, little Virginia, correct? I remember once, he showed me a few of his photos. You seem to have grown up in his moral image." He appeared to be satisfied at her reaction to his words, which was blatant shock. He nodded once. "Yes, I understand, but it puzzles me. I have always considered Werner stone dead, since ten years ago." Ravendor spread his arms. "But here he is! Back in flesh and blood. His daughter. Will you continue the family business, I wonder?"
Jet pushed Virginia back, as if to shield the girl from Ravendor's words. "Shut the fuck up!" He yelled, the knuckles on his hands growing white from the lack of blood, as he pressed his fingers against the airget-lamh's surface. "Don't you say nothin' to her! You gotta get through to me, first!" He raised his weapon, but something held him back from firing. Ravendor knew exactly what it was. The boy took a step back as Ravendor let his arms settle by his sides, and he cocked his head in curiosity.
"Jet Enduro? I did have something important that I wish to say to you… Hmm… Let me think…" Ravendor put a hand on his chin, while the other supported his elbow, looking to be in mock thought while he obviously already knew what he was going to say. Throughout all of this he kept a small, patronizing smile. "Ah yes! I remember now." Ravendor pointed to his face, drawing attention to his bright green eyes. He did this so that Jet would recognize the colour of his own lavender eyes. "Jet Enduro had dark brown eyes, almost black in colour, as I recall. Elliot tried his best to make you exactly like his long dead son, but that was one aspect of your anatomy that we simply could not change. It does not matter," He said, shrugging, "Because you are not Jet Enduro, you are Adam Kadmon, correct?"
Jet's fist was clutched so tightly that he probably could have squeezed blood from a stone. "You knew?!" He exclaimed. "I was followin' you around for a godfucking year wondering who the fuck I was, and you knew?!"
"Of course." Ravendor replied calmly. "I was there, Kadmon. I was there on the day you were born, did you know that? I was the one who broke open your glass birthchamber and delivered you into the world." His smile did not waver. "Why else would I have allowed you to become my apprentice for so long? Would I have left such great promise, such hard work go to waste? Had you died, so too would the hope that Filgaia had been given. I would never have let that happen. Adam Kadmon, Elliot and Werner's greatest hope. I owed them both a favor, it was the least that I could do."
The silver-haired android dropped his weapon to the ground, and sat down heavily afterwards, bowing his head. Virginia knelt, and put an arm around his back. Jet shook his head and said a few illegible words, the only recognizable sound being; "…lying…"
Finally, Ravendor turned his attention onto Clive, his smile momentarily fading. They both exchanged very serious looks. Then, Ravendor glanced at Catherine. She blushed and buried her face in Clive's shoulder. Clive put an arm around her waist, in a slightly protective motion. He stayed silent, though he still bore a lingering desire from his previous curse to growl deeply at the dark-haired man and attack him. Ravendor hid his emotions well. "…You… look older…" He said, "Peculiar… I never would have imagined you with glasses before…"
"…Yes…" Clive agreed, now that they had finally met up, he didn't know what he should say. It felt exactly like that night seventeen years ago, when Ravendor had tried to kill himself. Now, it was very different. There was a chance that he might just kill him. "I never would have imagined… That you would kidnap my daughter in exchange for the deaths of my team and I."
His voice was cold. "I care not for the lives of any of your teammates. Let them live, if that is what you truly want. But Clive, dear Clive, it is you that I want dead. Kadmon no longer has a purpose for the world except for his own, and the Maxwell child obviously has taken her own path. I do not give a damn about the priest." His smile came back. "No, wait. I have thought of something. He may be allowed to bury you, how does that sound?"
"If he is to bury any of us, it will be you." Clive answered in a deadly tone.
This statement was ignored. Ravendor leaned forward and looked at Clive like he was enjoying a private joke, chuckling a little. "I have just realized something, Clive!" He said jovially. "You have dropped your Little Twister accent! But it was so novel before! Did my lessons actually work now? That is a comforting thought. However, now I can no longer tell precisely who you are the product of! I seem to recall… yes… Was your mother not a two-gella-whore and your father one of her boundless clients?"
Virginia stood up, fed off the hurtful statement directed at her friend, and fired her twin pistols with perfect aim at Ravendor's heart. She was brash, yes, over-emotional, that was also true, but she would not let a close friend take that kind of abuse!
Ravendor flickered out of sight like a computer monitor fuzzing in and out, and the two fired bullets passed though him with no effort whatsoever, hitting the metal-plated stomach of the golem and leaving not a scratch. The bandit leader reappeared with minimal distortion and slowly folded his arms, shaking his head like he was reprimanding a disobedient child. His expression was that of smug condescension, the kind of look that would want to make a person hit somebody for absolutely no reason at all. "Do you not all understand," He said smoothly and softly, "The difference between a true physical body and that of a hologram? How sad." Virginia glowered and lowered her weapons, incapable of dealing damage.
The bandit leader smiled at her frustration. "I apologise for this awkward meeting, but I am unable to speak with you in my actual form. My transformative process has yet to be completed, and existing in a quasi-electrical state is my only method of visual and vocal interaction." Clive narrowed his eyes when he heard this. Quasi-electrical? It sounded remarkably similar to the composition of a dream-demon. Was that how he was manipulating the golem to his will? Ravendor merely continued without obstruction. "However, I hope you find entertainment in this particular incarnation." His hologram became slightly translucent, and Diablo seemingly spread his arms on a silent command, steam and smoke rising from the blood red armor. Ravendor lowered his hands to his sides, and as his image faded, it left with a conceit-filled proclamation. "I am Diablo, the Crimson Hellstorm!"
The golem exploded into life, letting out a bellow that would have frozen armies back during the great wars that had plagued Filgaia. The four humans and one demon all reached for their weapons, grabbing for their only defense against such a foe, the sounds of safety catches coming off and the incredibly familiar sound of a pistol being reloaded. Clive found that he had no viable weapon and powered up for an arcana attack instead, a slight aura appearing around his body. Then, both he and Catherine remembered Kaitlyn at exactly the same time and rushed over to her, making sure to hide the girl carefully behind a fairly large stone. She did not question either of them, and curled up tightly, covering her eyes. She did not want to see this, none of it at all.
Jet reacted first. Out of all the Maxwell Gang besides Clive, he seemed to have the least amount of love lost between himself and the dark-haired man. Growling, he whipped his airget-lamh out of his sling and used his dislocated arm like a steadying stand, firing a volley of bullets into the belly of the great golem. They rung like they were striking a hollow surface when the volley made their impact, but no visual damage was made. Diablo didn't even appear to notice that he had been attacked. But, he did retaliate. The golem flexed his fingers and flames poured from out of his palms, intensely burning, punishing, and directed straight for the humans in front of him.
"Fuck, duck!" Gallows cried, hitting the dirt and unaware that he had just rhymed perfectly, hands over his head. Virginia gasped and hauled Jet to the ground, accidentally jarring his injured arm. He grunted in pain, but instinctively spread his body over hers, to shield the girl from the fire. Clive did likewise with Catherine, fearing only for her safety, because he was protected by his fire medium and a fully functioning fire ward. Flames poured over their heads, like a floating river of fire, just missing their frail human bodies. Smoke was minimal, left out for some kind of plot by the human within the golem's shell. That was just a practice shot, a test to see Diablo's true abilities.
Catherine shook underneath Clive's body, uttering a short gasp of fear. When the flames had finally receded, he got off her and sniffed the air. This fire smelt different to regular fire, it wasn't made the same, out of the proper chemicals. Clive sensed that the fire probably wouldn't be enough to put the inferno out. "Catherine," He said softly, "Do not worry. I do not think he will harm you personally, as long as you stay out of the way. Please, go back and protect Kaitlyn. Please." Two 'pleases'. He must have been incredibly serious. Nodding, the ex-drifter got up and ran to Kaitlyn's side, hiding with her behind the rock that had acted like a shield against the flame attack. Clive took special note that Ravendor did not move to attack her when he easily had the chance, but let her go instead. He could not see through the thick armor to the person underneath, but he knew that there was definitely somebody inside.
Diablo roared again and put his metal-plated fist through the wall, just above where Clive was lying. The metal demon only had barely enough time to get up and avoid the falling rain of rocks that clattered around him, skidding out of the area and making a grab for his Gungnir ARM lying unheeded on the ground. It felt wonderful again to touch the weapon he had been brought up to fight with, it somehow rooted him more firmly to his convictions, to his courage. He stood up with the weapon in both hands, gently squeezing it as he looked upon the giant monster looming above his comrades. In the back of his mind, something felt a little wrong, a little missing, but he was barely in the proper frame of mind to think about such things.
Gallows chanted an arcane verse and raised his hands, feeling an amount of cooling air battle it's way into existence with the superheated atmosphere that the golem was creating. Slowly, the air condensed itself with a few faint pinpoints of light, glowing and fading into nothingness, and a shape appeared, that of a deadly and jagged shard of ice. Though composed of frozen water, nothing aqueous existed in this item, it was made purely for one magical purpose. Gallows grabbed a hold of it and tensed his arms, getting ready. Vocalizing his exertion with a loud grunt, he hurled the piece of ice straight at the monster. Cold against heat, He thought, This'll 'prolly slow it down…
It smashed upon the armor like waves upon a cliff-side, making absolutely no markings whatsoever. Diablo, withdrew it's fist from the shattered wall, and leant back, steam being expelled from vents in it's side because of the energy taken. Gallows cursed and moved out of the way, getting his Coyote ARM ready to fire. "Magic don't work, and bullets don't work either! What the hell is this thing?!" He yelled to the others, narrowly missing another wave of fire being spread around the room. Gallows felt a burn and checked his arm, pouring blood from a sharp rock falling from the ceiling. Taking a few precious seconds of his time, he cast a heal over it and ran to Jet and Virginia, being helped to their feet by Clive. "What should we do?!" He pressed, alarmed.
"This… thing was one of the main weapons that the humans used to battle the demon race thousands of years ago." Clive said, stretching Virginia's arm across his shoulders so she could properly stand. Part of her purple dress had been burnt, she must have been scorched somehow. "This is not just a recent copy or composition, like Asgard, but an actual specimen from all those eons past. Diablo… I studied it once… The lord of fire, the guardian of Hell…" He raised a hand to his mouth to seal off a cough, sensing the smoke in the air more than the others. "I do not know how, but Ravendor has found a way to control it. This is bad, that golem has the potential to destroy us all…"
The floor shook as the monster lumbered towards them, it's fists glowing red hot with a molten charge. Jet, the quickest of them all, had the right idea to shout out 'Scatter!', before heading for cover, ripping Virginia away from Clive and running to safety. Clive and Gallows both found safety by leaping over and ducking behind a moderately high rock formation, hearing an explosion tear away some of the other defenses that they could have used. Thankfully, the one they were under held, for now. They could only pray that Jet and Virginia were experiencing the same kind of luck.
"Clive, I dunno if you noticed, but-" Gallows was cut off as Clive slapped a hand over his mouth and made a 'Shut the hell up!', motion with his other. Then, he let go and the Baskar obediently went silent, albeit a little bit sulkily. The sniper gradually stood up high enough to see over their barrier, and became slightly confused when the golem was now just sitting there, seemingly inanimate. It wasn't moving anymore. He crouched back down and focussed his attention back onto Gallows, making a hand-movement that it was okay to speak aloud now. The priest snorted, but continued. "I dunno if you noticed, but can't you feel that the aura in that golem is changing? Look, feel with your mediums, it doesn't seem right…"
All the demon had to do was concentrate, he didn't need his mediums for it anymore. Clive closed his eyes and felt out with his mind, stumbling a little because this kind of thing was not his actual forte, and felt, very weakly, from the heart of Diablo's body, Ravendor's energy signature. Gallows was correct, it wasn't right at all. He barely noticed when Jet and Virginia joined them behind the barrier of solid stone, crouching down around them. Jet had a bump on his head, he must've been hit pretty hard by something. Virginia looked more or less okay. Clive opened his eyes. "It's like… like his aura's changing shape, colour, opacity, charge…" He wiped his cheek, and some black blood came off, staining his hand. This gave him an idea, or a kick in the right train of thought.
…What has happened? …What have I missed? Why are my senses telling me that he is not human? He must be human, he has no reason not to be so. He was never involved in anything, not like me, why am I sensing, and why are the mediums telling me that there is a second demon in this area?
"I feel it too." Virginia said, checking the clips on her twin pistols. "It's just like back in Claiborne, with you, Clive. At first, the mediums weren't really sure, and we were too, but then it became obvious, what you are. It's the same thing." She sighed. "Okay, so there's two demons now. Clive and Ravendor." She looked over to Clive, trying to read on his face if he had offended him in any way. He looked liked he was deeply thinking. Virginia continued to rationalize things, seeing that Clive was unable to do it himself. "We don't know what turned Clive into a demon, though we have a clear view about the lycan curse and what it did. If these are separate, then maybe the same thing has got this bandit leader in it's clutches as well."
"No!" Clive argued, a little more vehemently than he should have. "That is not true! He is not the same as I am!" He paused for a second to gather his thoughts, shakily adjusting his glasses. "It's different." He said, "Like me, and like Janus. Do you remember Janus Cascade?" Everybody nodded, and Virginia sniffed and looked away at the mention of the name. Clive nodded, this was a good basis for a comparison. "I- uh… well, I smelt Ravendor's blood a little while ago," He admitted, "And there was something wrong. He is not like me, it's different, like-"
For once, Gallows got the gist of what Clive was saying. His face brightened with realization, making conclusions of his own. "It's like Diablo is kinda like the eggshell, while the guy within is like the stuff inside the egg. Developing… growing… I get it!" He declared, grinning. "So, all we have to do is break open the armor and knock off that Ravendor bloke inside! That'll kill off both the golem and the controller!" He became a little more sober in his wording. "…But that's gonna be the hard part, I guess."
He didn't get much of a chance to ponder over this, for at that very exact moment, Diablo grabbed a fistful of their barrier rock in one hand and tore it away, the sedimentary stone crumbling to a fine dust. With a path cleared to his enemies, the golem bellowed and belched out a burst of flame from his mouth, shaped into a perfect ball and hurtling straight towards them. Clive acted entirely on reflex. Gravity lightened around him and his clothing started to billow, a faint aura outlining his shape. The sniper raised one arm and summoned an oppressive force in the form of a widespread eliminate scanner, using invisible compression waves to push the fireball away. His mind ached under the pressure, but the attack eventually succeeded, sent hurtling back to Diablo's form. They hit the armor and made it glow with an intense red heat, illuminating the dark cavern even more.
Clive took some deep breaths to get the feeling back into his body, gravity slowly returning to normal. He shouldn't really do that too often, but at least he didn't faint, this time. The rest of the Maxwell Gang staggered to their feet, after being knocked aside by the lashback force of Clive's retaliation attack. The sniper shrugged off his sniper rifle that was hanging at his back by it's leather strap, checking carefully that the weapon was loaded. It was, with silver bullets. This somehow made Clive smile. So Catherine had been prepared to do her duty to the very end. That was the Aegis he remembered, down to the last detail. But this was not the time to be reminiscing. He had to fight. However, he still felt that tiny degree of wrongness in the feel of his weapon. No, he could not let that bother him now!
Diablo loomed over him, pulsing in it's red hot power, pure, raw, primal energy. Clive made some speedy adjustments to his night-vision scope and snapped his clip back into place, not bothering to remove the silver ammunition. How ironic, He thought, That a former lycanthrope will so eagerly use a weapon built for their own destruction. Clive blinked, discovering something amusing. Just like the human race, I guess. He held the weapon up, triggering his inborn lock-on talent, and expelled a soft breath, trying to make himself as still as possible. Clive absently wondered if Ravendor could see him though Diablo's vision, and if so, did this frighten him? Did Ravendor know of Clive's true form? If a regular bullet could not pierce through the armor, then a precision assault should at least do some kind of damage. Smirking in mirth, and focussing his spirit, he pulled the trigger.
Click, click, click.
Click, click, click.
Nothing happened, just the hollow sound of his treasured weapon echoing a row of misfires. Clive lowered the gun and stared at it in horror, a hideous feeling crawling down his body like a legion of spiders. "...It's not working! Why?!" He exclaimed. Gungnir was ignoring his spirit, and had shut down the connection to make the weapon work. He had lost the synchronization with his only means of survival. Horror gripped his heart, and he suddenly understood the reason why. Gungnir was built to understand Clive Winslett's spirit, and no other. But, he was Clive Winslett no longer. He had changed, his spirit had changed. Clive would have just as much luck operating this machine as he would Virginia's pistols, or Jet's airget-lamh. He was worthless. He was a sniper no longer.
Then, what was he?
His arms shook as he dropped the weapon, looking up into the golem's face. What was it waiting for? Why had it not attacked him yet? What kind of game was Ravendor playing? How could he protect anyone now? Clive felt that if he were to try another magic or demonic attack like he had just used before, that the effort would probably destroy him. He wasn't ready for such a fight just yet, he was too weak, too insecure. He didn't even know what to do. Catherine, against all common sense, stood up from her hiding place and watched from out in the open, transfixed. The world seemed frozen, like a church painting depicting one of the seven hells, her weaponless husband looking up into the face of the Devil himself, while the slowly recovering bodies of his friends lay scattered all around him. What could, what would happen next?
Wake up!
Clive paused in a mid-step forwards, his breath suddenly catching in his throat. Slowly, his hand moved up to clutch at the area precisely where his heart was, trying to gulp down the amount of air that he had lost. What was that he had felt? An irregular heartbeat? A pressure on his heart, he could feel it pressing down on the organ that was powering his body onwards. Shaking, the metal demon dropped to one knee and panted, wondering what the heck was going on. It felt like, it wasn't, this couldn't be a heart attack, could it? No, not now…
We have put this aside for too long, We can wait no longer… No Clive, this is not what you think it is… Just a wake-up call… It is time… Time for you to know the truth… Come back to the heart of your past… Come back to the events you have forgotten… Wake up…
"…Know that voice… voices…" He rasped, digging his nails into his shirt and chest. "…Know you both… Boomerang… and Luceid…" Sweat broke out all over his face, and he struggled to keep himself awake, feeling a pulling on his soul that was far too similar to when he was yanked out of Boomerang's body in his dream, except now, he was being removed from his own. Catherine turned just in time to watch Clive fall, the demon's cold blue eyes glazing over as he slowly fell, and at the very last second before they became vacant entirely, they switched for the duration of a heartbeat into a dark, shadowy red. He landed on his stomach and flopped forward like an inanimate doll, and ironically, he practically was. His soul had gone elsewhere.
"Clive!" She cried, running to him.
His soul had gone back, to understand the truth.