Beta Read by: KobeNiku

-DOOM-

Her nightmare started the same, in her home village as it burned. The ground was littered and stained by the bodies and the carnage. Her dead parents stood before her.

"We trusted you! We gave you a simple task! And you couldn't even do that!"

"You're a failure, we all died because of you!"

She sobbed and covered her raccoon ears. Months of pain, of starvation, all for nothing. She'd tried to help, tried to restore what was broken. She couldn't do it.

"Look at us now."

"We all burn."

The sky torn open as Hell itself rained down. She curled up, crying, burying her head in her knees. The screams of the dying villagers were overshadowed only by the laughter of the vicious demons that were attacking them. The flames rose up to the sky as blood flowed like a river around her.

"We're ashamed to call you our daughter, you little rat."

"Die off, and take your place in HELL with us."

"... I-I'm sorry. Please f-forgive me." she sobbed.

The last thing she saw in her nightmare, was the three headed hellhound that destroyed her world as it bit down on her small body.

-DOOM-

DOOM: Waves of Armageddon

-Summoning II: Raphtalia-

She awoke crying. Her eyes shut tight as she sobbed into the warm blanket…

Wait, blanket?

The little girl realized suddenly that she wasn't lying on the cold rusted floor of a cage, or in the dirt of the cult's prison cave. Instead, she was wrapped in an old blanket, resting in an armchair. She felt her breath hitch in her throat as she looked around the room she was in. On her immediate right was a shelf of books that sat next to an even larger shelf of toys. Each toy seemingly a representation of a strange monster, none of which she recognized. With the exception of the first one, which appeared to be of…

...him. The green man who attacked the cultist who wanted to kill her. She vaguely recalled how the fight started before she passed out. The cultist had a shortsword empowered by dark magic, and the green armored man had drawn a strange sword that had roared like a monster and generated sparks whenever it clashed with something metal.

She took an uncertain step on the carpet just below the chair and stood up. She unwrapped the blanket from herself, placing it on the chair. Her legs felt weak from the last few months of being enslaved by a viciously cruel noble and the cult. Each small step caused phantom pain from the noble's whip.

She placed a hand on the shelf to maintain her balance as her legs trembled from the musculature atrophy she had experienced. She took another good look at the toys on the shelf. There were little name tags under each, all written in a language she couldn't read. Compelled by curiosity, her other hand reached towards the one in front of her, only stopping when she noticed that the shackles that were on her wrists had been removed. She looked down at her ankles, the anklet shackles had also been removed. She gently put a hand to her neck, and found that the steel slave collar had also been removed.

...

She'd forgotten what it was like to not be chained and treated like less than nothing.

She turned to the left and slowly past a barrel of swords and down a short flight of stairs towards a wall that had the three strangest guitars hanging from it she'd ever seen. One even appeared to be made from monster flesh, she quickly averted her gaze gagging in her throat a little.

She turned around to face a workbench with the scattered parts of some strange armor around it. At the center of the bench hung the armor's torso in a dismantled state. Just below that sat her shackles, dumped in a graceless heap on the floor like a spare piece of junk, the braces that went around her limbs broken open.

...

Did the green man do that?

She turned around towards another desk, this one had another chair and three mirror-like objects on top. She didn't focus too long on them however, as her attention was pulled to the window. She squeezed into a spot between the left of the desk and a random pillar of stone. She put her face up to the window tinted with blue energy.

…!

Her feeling of despair melted away as she was greeted with a sight she knew no other could see. Wherever she was, whatever this place is, it sat above the world itself! The view of the planet below was spectacular! She was floating in the heavens.

… Floating in the heavens.

...The heavens.

The heavens!

Her eyes suddenly went wide as a million different thoughts flew through her mind. Wonder gave away to terror as the realization that she might be dead descended upon her.

'Am I dead? Is this where you go when you die? Are mama and papa here? Are they going to punish me for letting everyone die? Are they gonna take me to Hell?!'

She began to hyperventilate again. Breathing rapidly, she stumbled back as a strong wave of nausea hit them.

"Take a deep breath and hold it for four to seven seconds."

The girl shrieked, falling backwards. She immediately scrambled backwards around a white box until she was tucked under the armor workbench. Where she promptly curled up again in the hopes that whoever that sudden voice belonged to wouldn't see them, and therefore, wouldn't make any attempts to hurt her.

The room went silent for a few seconds before the voice spoke again. "I apologize if I frightened you. Not introducing myself earlier was... rude of me."

She poked her head out from under the table and tried to figure out where the voice was coming from. When she saw nothing she wondered if they were behind the workbench, and if they'd seen her hide where she was now. The whole situation hadn't helped them calm down in any capacity.

"My name is Dr. Samuel Hayden, I'm here to assist. Could you tell me your name?"

She didn't budge, but it was obvious he knew where she was hiding. Maybe Dr. Hayden didn't want to hurt her? She was still breathing heavily. She meekly said: "R-R-Raphtalia. M-my name is Raphtalia."

"Well then, Raphtalia, I assume you have some… questions?"

Raphtalia wasn't sure what to do. Of course she had questions, but was Dr. Hayden really here to help? Her scatter-brained line of paranoid and fear-driven thought was then loudly interrupted by the growling of her stomach.

Raphtalia clutched her stomach, she'd also forgotten the last time she'd been given food to eat. Or at least, something other than a criminally small portion of stew made from street rats, rotten veggies, foul broth, and dirt.

"From the state we found you in, we assume the people who previously held you captive rarely fed you. The Slayer left you something for you to eat next to the armchair you woke up in."

'Slayer? Is he talking about the green man?'

The prospect of food was tempting. The hunger pains she felt from months of being starved told her to go look. But what if there wasn't any food? What if Hayden was trying to trick her? What did he really want? But what if there was food, did this mean that the green man and Hayden didn't want to hurt her? Did they truly want to help?

Raphtalia's mind was plagued by the toll of all the torture, malnourishment, and sickness she'd been afflicted with over the last few months. In the end, the hunger won her over, and she slowly left her spot under the workbench. She moved back around past the wall of strange guitars, and up the stairs back to the armchair.

She hadn't noticed it the first time, but there was a relatively flat box sitting on the ground next to the armchair she'd awoken on. Atop the box was the printed image of a man with a black short-trim beard and a chef's hat. Below the smiling face was another inscription Raphtalia couldn't read. She instinctively knew this was the food.

She reached for the box, whatever was in it, it was still warm. Opening the lid, she found three triangular cut pieces of thin bread, topped with thick tomato sauce, melted cheese, and vegetables that weren't rotten for a change. Raphtalia could only stare wide eyed at pizza the Slayer had left for them.

There really is food for me. She thought to herself.

-DOOM-

(Meanwhile Planetside...)

"Your guest has woken up, I've directed them to the leftover pizza you left them." Dr. Hayden stated into the Slayer's ear.

The Slayer grunted in acknowledgement. "Expectantly, they are cautiously slow to trust us. The psychological damage from the cult and possible previous slave owners has indeed taken a huge toll on them."

The Slayer made his way through a bush towards another pack of annoying orange balloon monsters.

"They've also informed me that their name is Raphtalia." Hayden switched topics, "I would recommend you acquire some resources from the monsters while you're there. I can use them to modify the shield further."

A balloon jumped up and bit on the Slayer's left bicep in an effort to hurt him. The hapless creature broke a tooth failing to scratch his bare skin.

'In comparison to the cult from two days ago, why do people find these little bastards threatening?'

With no other energy signature to see, it was by Dr. Hayden's suggestion that the Slayer was now in the forest immediately surrounding the capital, and also by his suggestion, the Slayer had brought the shield with him as well.

Apparently, there was a whole load of skills and abilities on the shield that the Slayer could find useful. The problem even Hayden couldn't work around was that these abilities required a certain level of power, combined with specific materials that the shield would absorb in order to work. In a scenario where the user could use only the shield, neither the Slayer or Hayden could imagine what the user could do in order to level up on their own.

'In retrospect, that might have been the reason the king wanted me to stay. Still don't trust him though.'

That of course didn't matter in both the short term and the long run, as Hayden had seen fit to remove the shield's ability to stop the Slayer from using other weapons. Now, as long as the Slayer kept it tucked away in his warp pack, it would passively level up as the Slayer fought.

In essence, the shield had even less power over the Slayer now than it did starting off.

Now, all the Slayer had to do was collect random objects ranging from parts of dead monsters to complete junk to unlock abilities that would actually be useful. Considering he spent a lot of his downtime collecting and salvaging junk anyways, the shield was effectively reduced to a seemingly pointless afterthought.

The Slayer inspected the shield once more as the balloon continued to do no damage to him.

"Hey Slayer! Where've you been?"

The Slayer felt his eye twitch as he heard the voice of Motoyasu, the Spear Hero. He turned around and sure enough, he was casually walking up to him, the Legendary Spear slung over his shoulder, and a friendly smile plastered on his face. He wore white with gold trim gauntlets, greaves, and pauldrons over a red tunic with white overlay and blood red cape. He had no armor to cover his chest, back, or abdomen, leaving all his vital organs vulnerable.

"You missed out this morning, a whole bunch of adventurers came to the castle, and we all got our own adventurer parties. Check out my team!" He explained as he excitedly pointed over his shoulder to his party.

His party consisted entirely of young human women, all around his age, all of them were physically attractive, and a few wore slightly revealing outfits. They all smiled and waved at the Slayer politely.

'Three guesses as to what he thinks with. Sort your priorities!'

A red headed woman with emerald green eyes, came up to the spear hero's side. Of the small party, this woman was the only other one besides Motoyasu who wore armor. Like Motoyasu, she had greaves and gauntlets, however she'd made the smarter decision to also wear a breastplate decorated with three blood red gemstones, albeit it left her chest and a fair amount of cleavage open. From the way she was pressing up against Motoyasu seductively, the Slayer concluded that this was an intentional choice.

'Dumbass. Demons and monsters won't be distracted like that.'

Aside from the mildly infuriating armor choices, the red head wore a purple skirt over a black skirt with thigh high black stockings and a gold trimmed white cape. Her crimson hair was tied back and held in place with a gold hair band.

What made the Slayer wary however was the fact he recognized her from yesterday. She was the red-haired princess from the royal portrait just outside the throne room.

People of power were never easy to trust, and very easy for demons to corrupt. This was a lesson that had been cemented in the Slayer's mind over many millennia.

"Oh, sir Motoyasu," she said in an annoyingly sing-song voice, "why don't you introduce us to your friend here."

"Oh! Right! Slayer, this is Malty, or Myne. Myne, this is the Slayer, he was summoned as the Shield Hero, but left immediately after to prepare."

There was the faintest of twitches in the now named Malty or Myne's eye. A twitch that the Slayer noticed.

"Oh, he's the Shield Hero? He looks so… so.."

"The word you're looking for is awesome!" Motoyasu exclaimed.

Myne's eye twitched again, almost as if any positive mention of the 'Shield Hero' caused her pain. The Slayer narrowed his eyes at this.

Malty recomposed herself, pushing herself off Motoyasu. "Well Shield Hero," she said, brushing up against the Slayer in the same manner she did the Spear Hero, placing a hand on the Praetor Suit's chestplate, "it's so nice to meet you. Why don't you come join us, so you can tell us about yourself, like where you got this strange armor?" she said in a seductive voice.

Hayden interjected through the private channel, "Malty S. Melromarc is the king's daughter. Her egregious personality is so well known... that the VEGA drones learned of it in passing, on accident. "

'Called it! Get out while you still can, kid.'

The Slayer casually brushed Myne away, scowling as she donned a faux pout in an effort to guilt him. He began to turn and walk away, until…

"Actually, the king did mention he wanted us to bring you back to the castle if we saw you again. Apparently it's very important that you come back. But, ya know, no rush?" Motoyasu said awkwardly whilst twiddling his fingers.

The Slayer paused before taking notice once more of the balloon failing to scratch his bicep. He reached for it as Hayden finally decided to address the group.

"Tell the king, we said this:"

Motoyasu smiled again, "Oh, hi Mr. Hayden!"

Unperturbed, Dr. Hayden continued, "You have our support…"

The Slayer pulled the balloon off his arm, and popped it by clenching his fist.

"But we will NOT play by your rules."

The Slayer flicked the rubbery skin of the balloon at Motoyasu. His party watched as it comedically slapped into his face, yet his expression didn't change. A portal opened up behind the Slayer and he turned and went through it. The portal closed not even a second after the Slayer went through.

Malty dropped her act for a second and scowled before recollecting herself and slipping back into her adventurer persona and moving back to Motoyasu's side.

"Well," she whined, "he's rude."

Motoyasu was silent for a second before he finally muttered, "He's so badass."

Malty was stunned. She turned back to her other party members and found that they all had expressions that were caught somewhere between apprehension and attraction.

Malty's eye twitched once more as it became abundantly clear who the popular one was.

-DOOM-

The Slayer strode down to the command platform of the Fortress of Doom's bridge silently fuming, as the already small chances the other three had of survival had just dropped greatly.

Especially if Motoyasu was any indicator to how everybody in Melromarc was treating the threat, like a game that could be dropped on four random people from some corner of creation.

Three of whom didn't even have basic combat training, and probably viewed this planet as a game and its inhabitants as NPCs to use.

'They need a reality check, but I don't know how to do that.

The Slayer slammed the shield next to a monitor in frustration. It would not surprise him in the slightest if the other three managed to hurt themselves severely before the next wave even hit.

"I've made a point of creating profiles of all persons of interest, including Ren Amaki and Itsuki Kawasumi. I'm currently updating Motoyasu Kitamura's profile and I am conducting research for Malty S. Melromarc's profile."

Hayden paused for a second. "I've also created a file of young Raphtalia. I would highly recommend you read it." His tone shifted from moderately bored to darkly serious with that sentence.

Hearing that tone from the normally cold and calm Dr. Hayden unnerved the Slayer slightly. The Slayer braced himself and looked to the monitor as Hayden pulled up Raphtalia's profile and began reading.

'My instinct tells me that I'll be questioning why I'll defend this damn kingdom in the near future.'

-DOOM-

Having finished the pizza left for her, Raphtalia had taken to simply sitting in the armchair with a book she'd found on the shelf to the right. The book itself told its narrative through pictures with only character dialogue to supplement it. She couldn't actually read the words, any of the words, they were written in an unknown language, but she could still follow the story.

From the way it was set up, it appeared to be about a group of people who were racing to defeat a monster powerful enough to end the world.

At least, she thought that was what it was about. She was guessing based on the graphic novel's artwork. She actually kind of liked the artwork.

Despite this, she wished she could read the words. She'd never actually gone to school, her parents had taught her themselves. She knew some reading, back when her parents…

Nope! Nope! Absolutely nope! Not gonna think about that! She thought suddenly.

Raphtalia tensed at the memory of her parents death. And at the memory of the numerous nightmares that came after.

The night her dreams had become much worse began to surface, and despite her efforts to clamp down on the memory, she felt tears in her eyes as the night she finally shattered flooded the forefront of her mind.

"Look here, you little demi-human rat."

Raphtalia looked down.

"I SAID LOOK HERE!"

CRACK!

The fat noble's whip forced her to look up. The fat noble smiled sadistically as she stared into a crystal ball.

"Isn't this your village? What's left of it, that is."

Raphtalia's breath hitched in her throat.

"I heard you tried to take charge, to help your people. Well, your people are dead. Rifana's almost dead, and Keel is next. And it's all your fault. You hear me you little tanuki bitch! This. Is. All. Your. FAULT!"

The image on the crystal ball focused on the flag of her home village. The one she promised would remain flying. Now it was ripped apart and thrown into the dirt.

And with that image and the fat noble's cruel words, for the first time in months Raphtalia began to cry. The fat noble's smile threatened to split his face.

"That's right. Cry. Cry loud you rat. Because no one will ever save you. And when you die, your family and friends will be there to take you to Hell where you belong."

The mere act of remembering this night caused her to cry. It was only a single day after this that the fat noble had sold her over to the cult, and the words 'no one will ever save you' finally sank in.

And there she sat, for days on end as other slaves were taken elsewhere, never to return. Until she was alone in a cage in a dark cave, counting down the seconds until it was her turn to die.

And when that time ran out, someone did save her. And here she was now, on a fortress in the stars.

She didn't cry for long over the memory, as the door to the room opened up, and although she couldn't see him, she could feel his presence. Which notably, had gone from pure hatred to tranquil fury. It still caused Raphtalia to freeze.

Slow and heavy footsteps entered the room. The Slayer moved past his armchair and towards the workbench. Raphtalia watched him silently although she couldn't see what he was doing.

The Slayer placed down the Legendary Shield on the table next to the disassembled armor. After which point he moved back up to the armchair to address Raphtalia.

Raphtalia was silent, the Slayer's piercing gaze from behind his helmet bore into her soul. It honestly scared her, but not as much as it did in the cave.

Dr. Hayden spoke, "Now that we're all in one place, we'd like to discuss what's going to happen over the next few months."

Raphtalia swallowed, nervous about what they wanted.

"Myself and the Slayer have been tasked with defending this world from the waves of calamity. We have reason to believe these waves exist on a scale that no single mortal on your world can comprehend, as such we cannot in good faith allow you to join us for the duration of this conflict."

Raphtalia's breathing sped up as she looked down, fear of abandonment sinking in. Her fear was alleviated however, when the Slayer suddenly addressed them by putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. She looked back up at the Slayer, who's gaze had softened ever so slightly. Not by much though, he still looked ice cold.

"The Slayer's plan as it stands, is to find a family who can safely take care of you. However, Melromarc's social hierarchy, combined with the fact that our Slipgate travel network is currently confined in and around the capital city of Castle Town makes this task… impossible."

The Slayer stood back up, and Raphtalia also followed suit as he walked towards the workbench.

"As such, the safest place for you is either by the Slayer's side, or here on the Fortress of Doom."

The Slayer picked up a scrap of paper from his computer desk, on it was a short list he compiled to help Raphtalia get acclimated to the environment of the Fortress, as well as what they'd need going forward.

"It will take a few months before we have a way into the heart of friendlier kingdoms, and with the waves set fairly far apart, here is what's going to happen: In between the waves, the Slayer is going to teach you self defense, combat against monsters, and if absolutely necessary, combat against demons as well."

The Slayer stored the list in an empty pocket on the Praetor Suit as he moved back to the workbench, Reaphtalia following his movements curiously. He picked up a device no bigger than a penny.

"Firstly, before any of that, everything written within the Fortress that is of relevance is in a language known as english. The device in the Slayer's hand is a means to allow you to read and speak this language. Take the device, and simply press it into the back of your neck."

The Slayer held out the device to Raphtalia. She tentatively took hold of it, and followed the instructions.

Bzzt.

She flinched at the sudden sensation. "Eek!"

The Slayer held up another piece of paper. "Now then, please read the note." Dr. Hayden asked. The note read:

Set a fire in your heart.

Raphtalia blinked a few times. The note was written in the same language as the book, except now she could read it. Raphtalia responded to Hayden's request stammering a little. "S-set a fire in your heart. I-it reads, Set a fire in your heart."

The Slayer nodded, putting the paper back on the workbench. Dr. Hayden then specified the next item of business. "Well then, next we shall need to give you a weapon, while the Slayer possesses plenty of broadswords and battle axes... he doesn't own any shortswords or combat knives."

'An embarrassing oversight on my part, now that I think about it.'

Raphtalia shivered. The idea of bloodshed freaked her out somewhat. "So, what'll you do?" she asked.

Hayden already had coordinates locked, "I've set a waypoint for a blacksmith shop in the capital. We managed to accumulate some of the local currency from the cult's personal ill-gotten treasure trove. Using it, we can acquire both a weapon for you and a spare set of clothes. I doubt you'd want to go around in rags."

Raphtalia looked down at herself. She couldn't remember what her outfit looked like before being enslaved, now it was nothing more than dirty cloth held together by threads.

'Since they're not gonna need that cash anymore, might as well use it for our own ends.'

The Slayer walked towards the door, motioning for Raphtalia to follow. The door slid open and the two exited the room. As they walked to the bridge, Raphtalia looked around and took in the architecture of the Fortress of Doom.

She walked a lot slower than the Slayer, still trying to re-teach herself to walk. The Slayer stopped whenever she stumbled, until she regained her balance and continued to walk. The stairs were a particularly tough challenge for her.

Eventually, they reached the bridge, Raphtalia went wide eyed again at the view of the world below. This time from the much larger viewport from the command platform. The Slayer stood behind Raphtalia, smirking slightly at how his home impressed her.

Dr. Hayden then interrupted the moment, "I have the coordinates plugged in already, you may activate the portal when you both are ready."

The Slayer moved past Raphtalia and pressed the Slipgate's activation stone. Raphtalia's attention was pulled by the mechanical motions of the Slipgate while it activated. Her eyes couldn't go any wider if she tried.

The Slayer walked towards the portal, Raphtalia on his heels, both stopping just shy of the blue vortex through space/time. Raphtalia shivered slightly, nervous to enter. The Slayer casually looked down at them, and stepped through. Raphtalia stood in shaky silence.

"I can assure you, Raphtalia, the portal is quite safe." Dr. Hayden encouraged her.

Raphtalia swallowed, closed her eyes, and jumped forward...

...and after feeling a rush of energy, ran face first into the Slayer's side, falling flat on her back. She opened her eyes and was met with the Slayer looking down at her with mild amusement.

Raphtalia jumped to her feet like an industrial spring under tension. She dusted herself off and stood up next to the Slayer, the tip of her head reaching a third of the Praetor Suit's abdominal plating. With the portal closed, the Doom Slayer and the little tanuki demi-human walked around from the backstreet to the main street, and into the blacksmith shop.

The inside of the shop was everything the Slayer had expected. Display mannequins with armor on them, racks on racks with every type of sword there was.

'I think I own at least one of each of these, except the armors, shortswords, and knives, of course.'

They heard the footfalls of the shop owner coming into the room. A bald man with a short trim greying beard and a heavy apron entered the room, taking off his blacksmithing gloves. He stopped midway through when he laid eyes on the Slayer and Raphtalia. His expression was stunned, likely thanks in no small part to the fact that a behemoth in green armor and a sickly little girl in rags was an odd sight to behold.

"We require a combat knife for the child." Dr. Hayden spoke right to the point, "And directions to a seamstress shop would also be appreciated."

The blacksmith blinked a couple of times. Processing the fact that this strange warrior was here to buy something. He finally managed to get out: "Right, uh… my name is Erhard. Is there a specific type of combat knife you'd like?"

The Slayer looked down at Raphtalia, who was still a little tense from his presence, before looking back at Erhard. "What would you recommend for her?"

Erhard then looked to Raphtalia himself. A combat knife for a kid? No, a self defense weapon for a demi-human. Who lived in Melromarc. Who was in the care of an adventurer, at least he thought he was an adventurer. Yeah, Erhard could understand this request. If there was one thing he hated about Melromarc, it was that despite outwardly appearances, the kingdom itself was sunk in amoral practices.

"I'll get you some options. Let's let the kid see what she's comfortable with." He said as he navigated around the shop, creating an array of knives and daggers for Raphtalia to choose from on a table in the center of the room.

Erhard moved back behind the counter as Raphtalia examined the various knives. Scratching his beard, he leaned towards the Slayer, "So, where did you find this kid?"

The Slayer did nothing for a second, he then reached into his back pouch and retrieved a small communications device and handed it to Erhard, gesturing to his ear as he did. Erhard was confused, but held the device to his ear anyway.

He was met with Hayden's voice, "Before you can ask, the individual you are looking at is mute, as such, I speak for him. My name is Dr. Samuel Hayden."

Erhard was taken aback for a second, he calmly then collected himself, and replied, "If you can speak through his armor, why bug with this thing?"

"Because based on your tone, you wish to have a private conversation. The Praetor Suit's external speakers do not allow for volume control, as such, the Slayer has given you this device to use."

Slayer? Erhard thought to himself, staring at the Praetor Suit in awe. He cleared his throat, "Right. Anyways, what's the deal with the kid? Is she a slave or something?"

'Oh, I hope you're not accusing me of enslaving a child!'

The clear aura of arger that came off the Slayer at that question answered the question for Erhard, Dr. Hayden elaborated:

"We rescued them from a doomsday cult two days prior. As there doesn't seem to be any place within Melromarc willing to safeguard her, we've decided to keep her in our care... for the time being at least."

Erhard's eyes widened, "Doomsday cult? You mean the rumors were true?"

The Slayer diverted his full attention to Erhard and Dr. Hayden voiced his confusion. "Pardon us, but we are still new to this kingdom, to what rumors are you referring to?"

Erhard leaned towards the Slayer, "Well, you see, I get customers from all over the kingdom, so I tend to hear a lot of things. One thing I've heard from a disturbingly large number of people are mentions of a doomsday cult that worship some 'dark god' that's hypothetically connected to the waves of calamity and operate all over the kingdom."

The Slayer nodded. "What do these rumors entail?" Dr. Hayden inquired.

Erhard rubbed the back of his bald head, "Let's see, mass kidnapping, torture, human sacrifice, indoctrination, demonic rituals." he listed and counted numerous crimes on his fingers, each one worse than the last, "They've seemingly committed every crime against the kingdom possible. Worst part? I heard the royals, nobles, and particularly the church knows of their existence, but deliberately ignores them. Let's 'em have free reign to do as they please."

Erhard noticed that the Slayer's fists had clenched tightly. And through his helmet, he guessed the Slayer rightfully had the most disgusted scowl he'd ever managed. The aura of rage heating up the room.

'Every time I think I know how low people can go, they still surprise me.'

"It would appear then that we haven't heard the last of these people." Dr. Hayden said in a flat tone into the Slayer's ear. "We must remain vigilant in the… inevitable event we come into conflict with them again."

Erhard leaned against the counter, "I hope you're a good fighter. Because it sounds like you're going to get into more fights with them."

"We are more than adequately skilled to handle any conflict the cult may cause." Dr. Hayden assured the man.

"You seem confident," Erhard noted, "how do you know you can handle it?"

"The Slayer and myself both have experience with impossible odds. It is unlikely this cult will even manage to reach the same overwhelming odds we've both faced in the past."

'Overwhelming is a bit of an understatement.'

Erhard nodded in acknowledgement. "Well, I'll leave them to you then."

Just as Erhard handed the device back to the Slayer, Raphtalia came back to the counter having picked a combat dagger with a basic crossguard and eight inch double edged blade blade. The handle was wrapped tightly with a leather grip, and it came with a matching sheath.

Erhard reaffirmed his friendly smile as Raphtalia put the weapon in front of him. "I'll have this one, please." She said quietly.

"Sure thing kiddo," He said as he looked for the price of this particular weapon. That'll be 55 silver, although, I'm willing to give you a discount."

The Slayer nodded and handed Erhard a small bag of coins. "Oh, wait here a second," Erhard disappeared into the back room, returning with an outfit that was around Raphtalia's size, "I know you asked for directions to the seamstress, but a customer left this here, and I don't have a need for it. So.." he handed it to her.

Raphtalia took the outfit and disappeared into a changing stall to change. The Slayer looked at Erhard with a look of confusion behind his helmet. "What?" Erhard asked.

"Will we need to pay more for the dress?" Dr. Hayden asked.

"Oh, no." Erhard explained, "It's just that, you strike me as pragmatic, and the seamstress that works around here is less, 'practical' and more 'fashion first, practicality as an afterthought'." he rubbed the back of his neck, "Plus, she's overbearing towards things she finds cute. Figured that avoiding her would be good for a kid who's probably traumatized."

Erhard could feel the cringe coming from the Slayer's new expression.

'You sir have stopped me from making a terrible mistake.'

"... Thank you for the advice." Dr Hayden said with his usual lack of emotions, though the Slayer was fairly confident he felt the same way.

"You're welcome." Erhard replied with an equal amount of cringe in his voice.

Raphtalia had finished changing, she walked out of the changing room. Her new outfit consisted of a beige tunic with a knee-length grey dress over top that had a single wide faded dark red stripe going down the front and back. Erhard had also been kind enough to include a pair of ankle high boots.

"H-how do I look?" she asked timidly.

"This outfit will suffice for the time being." Dr. Hayden assessed.

Raphtalia nodded. The Slayer addressed Erhard, "Thank you for your service." Dr. Hayden stated.

The Slayer and Raphtalia walked to the exit. "Slayer, wait."

The Slayer turned back to Erhard, "Good luck," the blacksmith offered, "if this cult's as big as I've heard, you'll need it."

The Slayer nodded to Erhard and left. The two made their way back into the backstreets where Hayden reopened the Slipgate portal.

-DOOM-

Immediately after they returned to the Fortress of Doom, the Slayer escorted Raphtalia to the lower decks, passing the complex machinery and ancient architecture surrounding the catwalks, stairwells, and gantries until they came to a walkway overlooking a deep drop. On the opposite side was the remnants of another atlan, in an intense state of disrepair.

They entered an elevator positioned opposite to the wrecked mech, Raphtalia stared at it in awe on the way down. Raphtalia jumped a bit when the elevator suddenly stopped. They walked down another bridge to a pair of large metal doors located just beneath the atlan.

The two stopped as the doors opened to reveal a basic room, the only notable things were three monitors. Two were turned off and covered, and the other's screen was blue, with the word RIPATORIUM in bold white letters. The Slayer went over to the monitor, tapping the screen. He opened up a new page on the monitor that read:

-Ripatorium Training Arena has been opened:-

-Begin Match? or: Select Challenge Difficulty?-

The Slayer selected the latter option.

-Select Challenge Difficulty Level:-

-I'm Too Young To Die-

-Hurt Me Plenty-

-Ultra-Violence-

-Nightmare-

-Ultra-Nightmare-

-Custom Challenge-

The Slayer selected -Custom Challenge-, and instructed the Ripatorium's administrative program to only let one type of monster into the arena. The weakest, most unthreatening thing he'd ever seen. So unthreatening, that he'd managed to trap well over a hundred of them in a matter of hours. After triple checking to ensure no other demon would interrupt them, the Slayer and Raphtalia entered the arena.

Raphtalia looked down from the ledge they stood at into the arena. Constructed to look like a ravaged castle, with broken walls, arches, toppled pillars, and multiple changes in elevation. It most certainly simulated the site of a great battle.

Raphtalia didn't get to admire the scene for too long, as the Slayer picked them up, carrying them as he jumped into the arena below. Raphtalia shrieked on the way down. The Slayer put them down in time for the first balloon to be warped in.

"These creatures are known as balloons. They're the weakest form of life on this planet. As such, they are perfect for training sessions. All you need to do is attempt to defeat these creatures, and the Slayer will determine where to begin your training from there.

Raphtalia drew her new knife and held it close to her chest, blade pointed outward. A total of eight balloons came around the shivering girl. All of them eyeing her like a hungry wolf staring down a rabbit. Raphtalia swung wildly at the first balloon to jump at her. The first two swings missed while the third slashed through both the attacking balloon and the second one that had followed the lead.

Raphtalia changed tactics and suddenly rushed towards the remaining six balloons seaming in a futile attempt at intimidation, swinging her knife like a lunatic.

The balloons all moved out of the way, and one managed to trip her up. Raphtalia did a little twirl before falling flat on her back. The balloons dogpiled onto Raphtalia, screeching, she tried and successfully managed to pull three off of her and kill two more of them.

When she failed to get the rest, she rolled to the side in the hopes the rest would let go. She managed to roll off the edge to the lower ground, landing on one more balloon, killing it with a comedic pop.

At which point Raphtallia had realized two things. Firstly, the remaining balloons had let go of her, but that was moot because secondly, she'd dropped her knife on accident. The Balloons eyed her viciously, and Raphtalia gulped.

The Slayer looked down to where Raphtallia had been pinned by the balloons and saw the knife. He bent down and picked it up, wondering what Raphtalia would do now.

His answer came when Raphtalia screamed and started running, the three remaining balloons chasing her without remorse.

These things were weak and did little to no damage to anything, but the Slayer was thankful he had to foresight to defang these little bubbles of irritance. He wholly expected that Raphtalia would struggle as she was now, but it still caused him pain to watch.

'Is this how the drill sergeant feels when rookies first join the marine corps?''

The Slayer decided enough was enough, and jumped between the girl and the balloon monsters. He casually stomped out the remaining three monsters before turning to Raphtalia. Raphtalia was curled up on the arena's dirty stone floor, shivering and trying her hardest to not meet the Slayer's gaze.

The Slayer kneeled down beside them, and handed her back their knife. Raphtalia took it and sheathed it.

"Raphtalia…" said Dr. Hayden.

Raphtalia didn't respond, the Slayer could see tears coming down Raphtalia's cheeks.

"I-I couldn't get all of them. I'm sorry. I-I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

The Slayer sighed.

'Even I forget how scary I am.'

The Slayer raised his hand and upon seeing this action, Raphtalia gasped and buried her face in her knees.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." she cried

The Slayer softly ruffled Raphtalia's hair. Raphtalia gasped again, raising her head in surprise. The Slayer paused for a second before gently patting her head and standing up. Now that he had her attention, Dr. Hayden spoke, his tone still cold and factual. "The Slayer isn't here to hurt you, Raphtalia. But the path forward isn't painless. Understand this, overcoming pain is part of becoming stronger. We are here to help you, remember that."

The Slayer nodded slightly, Raphtalia blinked the tears out of her eyes. The Slayer offered her his armored hand. She took his index finger, and the two of them stepped through the exit portal.

-DOOM-

The next hour or so was spent in relative silence, the day's events, while basic to the Slayer, had exhausted poor little Raphtalia. The next issue that came up was the fact there were no cots or bunks on the Fortress, as the whole wing of the station devoted to housing a crew had broken off and floated away some time ago.

Even though the Slayer's personal battleship now had a new long term resident, it still didn't quite give him a reason to go retrieve and reattach it.

Luckily, Raphtalia was content to just sleep in the armchair next to the bookshelf. The Slayer looked down at them, wrapped tightly in the blanket so her head was the only thing not covered by it. Yet even sleeping, she didn't look peaceful. The Slayer could empathize with that.

'I know the pain of nightmares, kid.'

He sighed once more and left his personal quarters for the bridge. Once on the command platform, the Slayer removed his helmet, placing it down next to a monitor. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Day three of this new mission, and he'd achieved far less than he was hoping. Achieving ground with Raphtalia notwithstanding.

"Taking Raphtalia into the Ripatorium wasn't your most thought out plan."

The Slayer growled. He didn't need Hayden to scold him with what he already knew. He had already known going down there that Raphtalia wouldn't likely be able to handle even the basic balloons yet. He wasn't even sure why he went through with it either.

Best guess? It was the tiny piece of him that was still a Night Sentinel that told him she'd manage. Big mistake there, that was a very poor judgment call.

He wouldn't stand for it. He needed to be better, lest she turns into him.

He clenched his fist with that silent vow. Raphtalia wouldn't walk the same path of damnation as him. She wouldn't fall like Earth, like the Night Sentinels, like Daisy.

And if she somehow did, then for some very unlucky creatures, there would be hell to pay.

He turned to the viewscreen facing the planet below. He nodded his head towards the monitor, Hayden understood the gesture and pulled up a readout of the planet, currently in the process of searching for more of the 'confusing energy readings' that had led the Slayer to the cult in the first place. Perhaps learn what made them so confusing as well.

The demons had placed their pieces with tactical precision. They must've been more damaged by the war for Earth than the Slayer thought, for even though they were only in the pre-invasion phase, the signs of demonic corruption were subtle.

They were being led by an unseen mastermind. That wouldn't stop the Slayer, however. He clenched his jaw tight, staring out and down towards the planet, eyes narrowed as he focused.

'The price of freedom, is eternal vigilance.'

-DOOM-

(Forgotten Fortress Cultist Base - While the Slayer and Raphtalia were visiting Erhard's)

"What happened here?"

The cloaked figure's presence was very much unwanted. None knew their identity, yet all knew they were in charge of all the cult and its associates did. Every ritual, sacrifice, every abduction and indoctrination, the fact that Melromarc itself turned a blind eye to all the cult did when they did come across them, their relations with nobles. Every atrocity the cult had committed, their hand was in it.

Their hand, and the hand of whatever master they served.

With that knowledge in the mind of the one cultist who had the sense to hide and stay hidden when the Slayer butchered his brethren, not coming out of his hiding hole until hours after the massacre had ended and everyone had left.

And for his troubles, here he was, the only one left to explain to the Overseer why his entire branch was dead. The last cultist gulped, the temperature on this warm day feeling chillingly cold around him.

The cultist realised far, far too late he should've gone out fighting the green man.

"Well, you see, Overseer. We, uh… we were in the process of ritual sacrifice, when we were attacked and uh… over… overwhelmed."

The Overseer didn't even flinch, "And how many attacked?"

The cultist looked to the ground, "O-one man, Overseer. We were destroyed by one man."

The Overseer slowly looked around at the carnage before turning back to the cultist. "This is quite the amount of destruction for one man."

That was perhaps the scariest part about this person. Regardless of how unfathomably wrong things went, they never raised their voice, never changed their tone, they were always unflinchingly calm. Yet whenever things did go wrong, they always saw to it that someone's head rolled for it. Literally.

That is, someone's head would literally roll, if they were very lucky. Whatever was under that hood, had no soul.

And it was with this unsaid but heavily implied threat that the cultist threw himself to the ground, bowing on his knees with his head in the dirt sobbing and begging forgiveness. "I'm so sorry Overseer! P-please give me a chance at redemption! I shall correct this grave failure!"

…

There was no response for a total of fifteen seconds, and for all of that time the cultist shivered and cried.

"Stand up."

The cultist's breath hitched in his throat as he slowly stood up to face the Overseer once more. He flinched slightly when the Overseer reached out, and placed his hand on his shoulder.

"God forgives all sins, and thusly, sees no need to punish the wicked. Instead, it is our divine duty, ordained by the Maykrs of old, that we must bring forth judgment and cast the wicked and the unruly beasts into the fires of Hell ourselves."

The cultist swallows again, unsure where this was going.

"You want redemption? Very well. I shall give to you command of another sect. At midnight tonight, you shall take this sect to the village of Lute. Kill the guards. Round up all the villagers. Take the children, and bring them to the Sanctum of the Enlightened. Educate them, teach them your ways, make them servants to our beliefs. Through the work they do for us, They will find salvation. As for the adults, sacrifice those who don't join willingly, let the dark powers consume their souls."

The cultist shivered, and nodded. The Overseer smiled, placing their hand back down. They turned back to the sunrise. "Judgment is coming. And we are the divine servants who will cast down the doomed and cleanse the world."

The Overseer's smile widened ever so slightly, "We shall be the ones who rule over all after the waves of armageddon."

-DOOM-

Codex Entry - Personnel: Raphtalia 1

-OPEN REPORT-

Name: Raphtalia (Middle/Surname Unknown)

Species: Demi-human

Age: Unknown, suspected to be around ten years of age

Physical Appearance: Brown hair. Red eyes. Sports a pair of raccoon ears and matching tail. I currently do not know if the ears are secondary, or take the place of human ears. Bears marks of long term physical and emotional abuse, most common scars being whiplash, visible effects of malnourishment, and effects of being locked up for extended periods of time.

Medical Profile: Raphtalia is a victim of torture, and this shows clearest in her actions. Signs of starvation and musculature atrophy are present along their limbs and in her struggle to achieve a basic walk. The crying in her sleep indicates frequent night terrors, likely about events leading up to and during her enslavement.

Doctor's Notes: Psychological help is strongly recommended, however medical science in the medieval era is all but nonexistent, and contact with the ARC is minimal for the time being. We'll have to improvise, carefully for the time being.

She is suffering from PTSD Slayer, you of all people know what will happen to her if it's left untreated.

-END REPORT-

-DOOM-

(A/N):

TITLE DROP!

Also, what do you think will happen to the fat noble (Idol Rabier) when the Doom Slayer inevitably comes to brutally murder his pathetic ass?

Because let's face it, he died the moment Raphtalia met the Slayer. Death is just waiting for the Doom Slayer to catch up and finish him off.

And also, the Overseer. He oversees the cult's activity, but rarely partakes in it. Their master is an unknown. Is it a demon? A Maykr? A man? Is the Overseer themself the master? Or are they a pawn in some celestial being's sick game?

One thing's for sure. The Overseer is bad news. It'll be fun once all the antagonists come to play and the Slayer's decide which one of them to eliminate first.

One last question? Doom Slayer vs certain Devil May Cry 5 demons, Should I do that here?

Hear me out: Certain demons in DMC 5 look and feel like they wouldn't be out of place in the DOOM combat look. For example:

Empusa could be an Imp-like demon, but it's rare because it can't survive in environments like in/around Nekravol or the Kadingir Sanctum, and thrive in environments like in the Blood Swamps.

Hell Caina / Antenora could be a form of undead soldier, afterall, it would be weird to see a blaster zombie in a fantasy setting.

Hell Judecca. Remember the 'demon priests' that were mentioned in DOOM 2016 (not counting Eternal's Hell Priests)? We still haven't seen those. What if these are what they are, and we never see them because they're non-combatants? Nico mentions that these're basically demon priests, and that it's rare to see them outside the demon world.

Riot, Chaos, and Fury could be beefy cousins of the Whiplash and test the Slayer's reaction time with the dash.

Pyrobat/Hellbat could be the result of the Hell Razer parasite infecting something other than a humanoid.

...

Dark Lord Doomguy?
Bring it on ID. I look forward to the fight.

How much are you willing to bet that Samur Maykr will take over Hell afterwards?