Beta Read by: KobeNiku
Raphtalia frantically paced from one command console to another. Her tail on instinct had tucked itself between her legs, her anxiety keeping it in place. The anxiety she felt from the presence of another wave was so great she couldn't stop herself from trembling, her knees weakening every minute, threatening to trip her.
She'd been like this since the Slayer had gone back down to the planet to fight the wave. For more than an hour, she'd been stuck in the Fortress of Doom waiting for him to come back. She silently prayed to whatever good god was out there for the Doom Slayer's survival planetside.
She maintained this pattern of anxious pacing until she broke into a harsh coughing fit, courtesy of her currently mild fever. She reached over to a bulbous giraffe-necked bottle containing a blue fluid and had a post-it note on it reading: Raphtalia if you start coughing, pinch your nose and drink this, that the Slayer had left behind before he descended to the planet below.
She popped the cork on the bottle and downed the contents without pinching her nose, the bland and bitter flavor not kicking in until the last gulp. Her eyes widened at the unpleasant surprise as she began coughing again, this time as a reaction to the flavor. She bumped into the portside large monitor, causing the screensaver to disappear, and showing what the Slayer had left on it.
While Raphtalia wasn't an easily distractible kid, she still possessed the childish curiosity many her age possessed. Once she stopped coughing, her anxiety took a back seat so she could focus on the monitor for only a split second. A mere acknowledgment of whatever she'd opened up, and that would've been it.
And a mere acknowledgment would've been if it was anything else. Yet what the Slayer and Dr. Hayden had left open on the monitor was none other than a technical schematic for the polymorphic shield the Slayer had shown her before they were cornered by the Empusa.
At the top of the semi-incomplete schematic were the words Legendary Shield.
Raphtalia's eyes widened as she recalled the tales of the Shield Hero her parents used to tell her before bed.
"Can you please tell me another story about the Shield Hero, papa?"
"Again? You wanted to hear about the Shield Hero for the past week!"
"But you said he was the only hero who cared about demi-humans."
"Ah, I did say that, didn't I?"
"Just tell our little girl another story dear, she's giving you the pouty face."
"Oh, noes, not the pouty face."
"Please?"
"..."
"Alright, fine. I suppose another story can't hurt."
"Yay!"
Raphtalia blinked several times, and just stared as she processed the information.
The Doom Slayer, the unstoppable demon grinder on legs, the man who could conjure weapons from thin air, and lived in a castle in the heavens, is technically the Shield Hero.
She recalled back to what Dr. Hayden had said earlier when they went to planetside for knife combat training. That the shield could change forms. And more importantly, she recalled where he got it.
From a very desperate yet untrustworthy man.
Could that desperate and untrustworthy man have been the king of Melromarc? Raphtalia's father had always mentioned in passing how the king of Melromarc couldn't be trusted. That he'd likely go back on all the treaties with Siltvelt when he gets the first chance to do so, whatever that meant.
Raphtalia's curiosity engulfed her, she focused her attention on the monitor's screen as she read the technical notes and tags pointing at specific parts of the shield.
The main source code is written in an unknown language. Appears to be a variation of Hell dialects. Origin unknown, further investigation is required.
Before we acquired it, the most recent modifications date back to Argent D'Nur and are written in Wraith Script, an alphabet exclusive to the Night Sentinel faction of Argenta society.
The core system is modified with Maykr technology, Central gemstone shares characteristics with Soul/Life Spheres.
The energy the Shield consumes to function bears strong similarities to Wraith energy. Source unknown. Argent compatibility, unknown. Hell energy compatibility, unknown.
Raphtalia tilted her head at the unfamiliar terms. Was Dr. Hayden studying the Legendary Shield? Raphtalia couldn't quite wrap her head around it. One thing was for certain though, the Slayer was indeed the Shield Hero.
And that changed everything for her.
She ran back to the Doom Slayer's quarters to retrieve her combat knife and a book on Night Sentinel-style CQC she'd spotted on a shelf earlier.
DOOM: Waves of Armageddon
-The Vigilant III: The Evil Living-
Meanwhile, the Hellwalker stalked slowly and silently through a different kind of hell, made purely by human hands, and maintained by human cruelty instead of the chaos magics of demon-kin. A sight so extremely out from the left-field and disconnect from the task at hand that it had made him forget his previous objective, and made the infamously unshakable Dr. Samuel Hayden fall completely silent at the prospect mere mortals could replicate such a place.
Numerous uncounted skeletal limbs slipped between the tarnished bars of the slave cages as soft and gut-wrenchingly devastating cries filled his ears. The crackling torch fires lit the nightmarish scene in all its grisly detail.
Numerous crows sat perched around the slave market, many picking at the living flesh of the slaves themselves. The Slayer stopped short of a flagpole with a narrow cage swaying atop. Six crows sat picking away at the slave held within. The flesh of their face pecked and cut, their eyes pulled from their sockets, and their throat dry and scratched having failed from screaming long ago.
The Slayer clenched his fist, in one fluid motion he kicked and shattered the wooden trunk of the pole. The cage toppled over and the crows shrieked and scattered to the wind, the whole morbid metal mess slammed into the slimy mud below with a wet splatter. The Slayer approached to find the poor soul inside dead. He couldn't tell if it was the fall that killed them or the crows that ate him, but it mattered not. For in a place like this, inside a man-made hell built only for prolonged suffering, death was mercy. The Slayer wasted no time mourning this person, not while there were still souls to save.
He walked past the numerous cages and by the torture machines left in plain sight, he could feel many starved hands weakly grasp the studs on the Praetor Suit's gauntlet. He trudged towards the central auctioning stage, past numerous wooden pews sitting atop cold masonry, facing towards a massive copper plate with an engraving of what was unmistakably the Legendary Shield in what felt like a twisted mockery of a church. The whole setup bringing to mind the numerous places of dark worship the Slayer had ravaged across Hell, leaving him to question just what Siltvelt's religious teachings even were.
And even if they were Shield Hero-centric, would this even be worth attempting to utilize? The lesser of two evils would still be evil. And from where he stood, this didn't even qualify as a "lesser evil". He'd already made that mistake once.
He hadn't cared about politics or economics during his time with the Argenta, and quite frankly he didn't care about them now. The demons wouldn't wait for mortals to sort out their politics, ethics, or their beliefs. To stop and involve himself in the inner workings of the people he was trying to save would create a window for the demons to abuse.
After all, the expression "when in Rome, do as the Romans do" exists for a reason. Especially when you are on a mission that may well determine the fate of all mortal realities.
Yet to the other side of the same token, his indifferent approach to the Sentinel's politics and economics had created a window for the deceitful Khan Maykr, who gathered as many unfortunate souls caught in the Argenta's religiously-fueled slave network as she could and constructed the vilest machinery the Slayer had ever seen in his life. He wasn't too keen on leaving another window like that open, especially when said window already looked the part of Hell. He wouldn't allow another lack of vigilance to cause a repeat of Nekravol.
He reflected on this past approach and decided he wouldn't risk a repeat. He walked towards the back of the market where the older slaves were held. He couldn't linger long, he needed to act swiftly. Approaching a corner he could hear the desperate screams of a young voice somewhere deeper in the slave's Hell.
"I am detecting many bio-signatures synonymous with demi-humans, likely guards." Dr. Hayden said, his tone acknowledging what was about to happen.
The Doom Slayer cracked his knuckles and rounded the corner.
'Your god is here, and he is beyond pissed…'
-DOOM-
(The Third Ring)
With a crossbow bolt glancing off the Prowler's skull, the demon turned towards the offender, Rakshas Nori, a lanky hakuko man, an unsavory-looking fellow clad in the tackiest suit gold could buy in Siltvelt. His complexion was almost as pale as his hair which was as unkempt as his soul, and his eyes as malicious and cruel as the demon opposing him. All it took was one look to know this man was a wretched vile and loathsome cockroach of a sinner.
The Prowler warped away in a purple haze, prompting no reaction from Rakshas, only eerie calm. The human slaves all backed up a step as the Prowler warped in behind Rakshas, and yet he didn't budge, he only turned his head and met the demon with a vile smile. If the Prowler hadn't been so high on bloodlust, it would've realized the trap it had warped into.
The demon hardly felt the absurdly sharp, magically enhanced short-sword cut cold through its neck until after its head had fallen to Rakshas' feet. The cruel demi-human lord smiled serenely as his human slaves all took another step back before their slave crests collectively shocked them, forcing them to take one step forward back towards their psychotic master.
"Jaralis has quite the taste in birthday gifts, doesn't he, dear daughter."
An eerily pale, slim, and young figure stepped over the dead Prowler's body. She evoked the image of a grim reaper in her ebony hooded dress, and her aura was that of bordered madness. Her expression was wild and unhinged, a being that was taught only hate but translated it to pleasure to cope. The slaves huddled together in the presence of what they recognized as a predator that lived not for the kill, but for the hunt.
"He does, doesn't he. I've cut many demons with this sword when many of our knights couldn't." She laughed.
Lord Rakshas Nori and his youngest child, lady Mina Nori both turned to the group of human slaves. "Come along vermin, a lesser way to the fourth ring isn't too far from here," he turned to his daughter, "Mina, go on and continue having your fun. Meet us at home."
Mina smiled sadistically, "Yes father."
She jumped up towards the roof of a stable building as she backtracked down towards the gate to the great staircase between the rings. In all likelihood, there would be more escaped slaves for her to toy with within the slave market of the second ring than in any of the other rings.
At the gate to the great stairwell that allowed quick transit between the levels, Mina witnessed a brawl between a pack of Imps and Empusa and a group of squabbling Goblins that too had come from the Wave.
She smiled viciously and drew her short-sword. Lunging forward she took a slash at the neck of the nearest Imp, cutting through it with only little resistance. All in the arena rounded on Mina, claws, and knives at the ready.
(Theater D - RE:Zero OST, MYTH&ROID)
Mina was aware that demons were a lot stronger than her, she dodged all attacks, having already seen multiple knights getting pulped by a single well-placed attack from a stray demon today. She lunged back and then forward, aiming for another Imp's eyesocket.
But before the attack could connect, she spotted the curve of a serrated scythe blade swiping in her direction from behind the large ruins of a house. She rolled away narrowly dodging the blade as it grazed the ground where she once was.
Looking back to where the bladed attack had come from she saw a tall cadaverous creature clad in a threadbare ebony hooded cloak held to its skeletal frame by thin ropes. Many barbs of rusted iron protruded from the demon's body and a similarly rusted crown of thorns was embedded in its hooded skull. In its hands was the serrated scythe that had missed Mina by an inch. Another one followed behind it.
She recognized these creatures mainly from many of Siltvelt's historical religious texts. But as she understood it, it and similar demons that appeared in documents went back not only to the original Church of the Four Holy Heroes but beyond into the ancient times when the first kingdoms ruled in an age before the waves of calamity and the heroes themselves, many, many millennia ago.
The ancient myths described these demons as manifestations of death incarnate. Creatures sent out to collect those slain on the fields of war and bring them to the inferno, but like all hellspawn, held no reservations, and perhaps even enjoyed hunting the living. When engaged in battle, they were referred to as a Cleaving Vanguard by those who survived.
Their species were simply referred to as the Hell Caina.
However, the fact she was now faced with harbingers of death itself didn't faze Mina in the slightest. She was instead more upset that these monsters looked more like the Grim Reaper than she did. She went through all that trouble to look as scary as possible and now she was being one-upped by these demons!
"Hey, spooky reaper is MY style!"
She pouted childishly and stamped her foot in frustration before she picked up her short sword and dove for the first Hell Caina's neck.
The fight devolved into an all-out brawl, a disjointed symphony of crude blades and bloody claws.
Mina danced around the field with all the decadence of a hyperactive pre-teen, swinging her shortsword at any monster or demon close enough to taste the blade with far more grace than her body. Imp fireballs and Empusa claws grazed her skin with many near misses, Mina bit her lip to suppress the rush running through her, knowing this wasn't the time or place for indulgence.
With a duck then a leap Mina moved below the swing of the first Hell Caina before slashing at the grim demon's face. The creature stumbled back into the waiting claws of the Imps that clawed away at the lanky demon. The First Hell Caina struggled against the Dark Realm scavengers futilely as it drew its last breath.
Around them, the Imps and Empusa overran the Goblin horde, the last of the wretched green creatures falling to the second Hell Caina's serrated scythe. The demons then turned upon each other without any more wave monsters to battle, throwing themselves at each other with newfound vigor.
The pale grim hakuko woman took this as her cue to leave, knowing it was only a matter of time before larger demons even her short sword couldn't cut arrived. She refocused on the gates to enter the great stairwell.
Bland spruce planks, held together in two undecorated slabs, attached by steel nails and mighty hinges. The way was shut by a heavy oak bar held in place with fine sturdy locks. Going through the door was impossible at the current juncture.
Mina turned back to the Empusa, particularly the ones flying around the remaining Hell Caina. She grinned as the makings of an on-the-fly machination formed in her mind.
With only minor thought put into her plan, She rushed the shambling demon while it was distracting cleaving Imps with its serrated scythe. In a fluid motion, the slim reaper gracefully jumped over the scythe strike and jumped once more from the Hell Caina's head. The hapless Emusa flying above could only panic when the gothic girl mounted its back, driving the demon upwards and over the gate.
Mina stabbed the Empusa through the neck and tumbled to the cold stone ground. She jabbed her heel into the demon's eye one last time for good measure before carrying on.
(End Music)
In the background, Mina heard the roar of a larger demon entering the field behind the locked door and wisely decided to tail it to the second ring and to the slave market to hunt for escapees like she planned before that larger demon caught her scent.
In a moment of anticipation, she practically flung herself down the great stairwell, gliding like a vampire bat in flight down towards the second layered ring of Siltvelt's capital.
And straight for the Hellwalker as well.
-DOOM-
The lion and elephant Demi-human knights had pulled a slave from near the front of the market, a teenage boy in rags, and dragged them towards the rear of the market. They'd found a display post in the middle of the walkway and chained him to it. The two had grown bored with their post since no monster or demon was coming their way for them to battle, it felt that they would have to…
...entertain themselves some other way.
They settled on whipping the first slave they saw they thought hadn't been tortured enough.
The two knights laughed at the human boy's despair, the lion knight raising the whip again only for the terrifying atmosphere to be broken by a pained roar from the elephant. The lion-man looked towards his friend in shock.
'Get over here.'
The elephant-man went flying back, yanked by the pronged meathook lodged firmly in his back. He was swung around, slamming his back into one of the cages with the force to bend the bars. He hobbled to his feet only to feel a crushing kick in the back of the leg. Falling to his knee, the last thing the lion knight saw and felt was a pair of armored hands around his face. The elephant man screamed, his voice becoming rapidly higher as his neck stretched and snapped.
The lion knight recoiled in shock as his friend's head and spine were ripped from his body, the kill only last three seconds tops. Before he could even get a good look at who the killer was his legs were swept out from under him. A brutal hammer strike met his abdomen, forcing him to crash into the ground. The lion knight looked up and came face to visor with the enraged glare of the Doom Slayer.
The world became a void as the lion man stared at the Hellwalker, becoming paralyzed with fear as he stared into the dark abyss of the Slayer's rage. The seconds stretched into eternities as the Slayer pulled the Great Communicator from his warp pack. Fully intending to communicate his opinion of the wretched creature beneath him.
The lion knight shook free from paralysis when the Slayer harshly yanked the Chainsaw's ripcord, the bloody tool roaring to life as the teeth of the blade spun in a gnarling fashion. The lion knight's eyes widened as the Slayer raised the Chainsaw over his head, and rolled out of the way when the Slayer swung down. He barely dodged, the teeth of the Chainsaw grinding against his right greave.
The only thing the lion Demi-human could see was the being the strange weapon. If it were a sword, the lion knight wouldn't know what to make of it. It had two handles attached to a yellow box, it roared like a beast, and its blade had swirling teeth in place of any sharp edges. That fact didn't stop the lion from fearing what would happen if its blade met his flesh, and so he fled to the main office where all transactions in the slave market took place. Praying to the great Shield God that he would survive this lunatic's onslaught.
If only he knew that lunatic was his great god.
"Stop this lunatic!" the cowardly lion had yelled, attracting the attention of the other guards.
The slave had closed his eyes after the first kill, his body tensed when the Slayer's Chainsaw roared to life. His eyes finally opened when the chains of his shackles snapped and he fell to the ground. He gazed forward and saw the Slayer walk away, Doomblade retracting, he revved the chainsaw and pursued the lion knight.
With his remaining tormentor and the one hunting him out of sight, the boy scrambled to the corpse of the elephant knight, praying to whatever god would care that he had the keys.
'Please let this one have the keys. Please, gods. I want out of this hell…' he thought vehemently.
Sticking his hand into the knight's inner pocket his fingers wrapped around an iron ring with several keys attached.
"Yes!" he exclaimed.
The bark of the Slayer's Chainsaw echoed somewhere in the distance, followed by the dying gasps of the guards, startling the slave boy. He nervously looked towards the sound before rushing to hide in an artificial alcove between two cages and covered by canvas. He fiddled with the keys, attempting to fit each into the lock of the shackles.
Off in the background came another roar from the Chainsaw, followed by the sound of metal grinding aggressively against metal and the cries of another panicked knight.
He finally found the correct key, free of his rusted shackles, and without thinking, he ran for the front gates, he didn't care that a wave was going on, he didn't care what monsters were waiting outside. It couldn't possibly be worse than what he'd already been through, right?
He rounded the corner to the central corridor, freedom only a few meters away.
"HOMINEM OCCIDERE!"
The boy scrambled back, dodging the argent plasma fire of an Arachnotron's turret, flanked by Hell Soldiers. One Hell Soldier gave chase. She attempted to round the corner again but the decayed hand of the Hell Soldier snatched his neck. His back was in pain as the former slave found himself on the ground by one of the parallel cages. He looked up and stared into the glowing Hell energy eyes of the Hell Soldier.
"Veni ad Infernum…" the undead demon snarled as it charged up a plasma round.
Tears leaked from his eyes as a flash of Argent energy blinded him.
-DOOM-
The lion knight burst into the main office and slammed the door behind him, he'd never run so fast in his life.
"What the hell, Fasa!?" a startled moleman accountant screeched.
The lion knight - Fasa made a panicked 'be quiet' gesture as he leaned against the door. He listened closely behind him trying to pick up the Slayer's footsteps behind him.
"Again, what the hell?" the irate accountant asked.
Fasa shot the demi-human a terrified look, "There is a heavily armored lunatic outside that ripped Amar's head off like it was nothing! And now he's chasing me with a hungry sword made of metal teeth!"
The accountant understood none of that. "What? I call horseshit. Get out of here!"
Fasa panicked more, "No! I-it's completely true! You gotta be- !"
The end of the Chainsaw burst from Fasa's chest, startling the accountant. The weapon's teeth churned as the weapon carved upward.
"NO! OH GOD NO! SHIELD GOD HE-!"
Fasa screamed until the Chainsaw cut through his throat, the rest of his sentence getting drowned in his blood.
It was now the accountant's turn to scream as the Chainsaw was pulled back and the door kicked open. Upon gazing at the Slayer their voice faltered and they went silent. It was like staring into a force of nature, an incomprehensible whirlwind of chaos and destruction given flesh and steel. The accountant could only curl up as that force, that power stared them down with hate and malice dripping off their aura. And for a moment, the accountant felt like they were the most repugnant sinner brought before God's divine judgment.
The Slayer growled and raised the chainsaw, revving the weapon as he did.
"NO, WAIT! PLEASE! I'M JUST AN ACCOUNT-AHH!"
The accountant and the Chainsaw then went silent.
Having now killed all the personnel keeping watch over the slave market, the Slayer tucked the Chainsaw back into his warp pack and exited the office. He prepared to go and tear open all the cages until he paused at the familiar sound of an Arachnotron's turret firing.
'An Arachnotron? Did it get in? Didn't I close the…'
The Slayer then realized:
'Oh shit! I didn't close the front gate!'
He pulled out his Super Shotgun and bolted towards the front gate. Running past the post the slave boy had been, the gravity of his error sinking in when he rounded the next corner and came upon the Hell Soldier and the body of the slave boy.
'Dammit…"
The Slayer saw red as he lunged for the offending demon and in less than a second, the Hell Solider ceased to be. In his blind rage, the Arachnotron and remaining Hell Soldiers open fire upon him with their Argent Plasma weapons. The Praetor Suit quickly dissipated the heat but the Slayer knew it wouldn't be long before the heat outpaced the suit's processors. Without thinking he summoned the Legendary Shield, using it to block and absorb the plasma blasts as he made a beeline for the Aracnotron.
At point-blank range, the Slayer stowed the Sheild away and unleashed a furious Blood Punch, vaporizing the Hell Soldiers and destroying the Aracnotron's armor and turret in a cascade of golden divine energy. The Arachnotron hobbled as it futilely tried to regain its bearings. The demon's cybernetic limbs failed, it tried to recall how to utilize the emergency protocols but all it could conjure up was a blank void, the part of its brain where that knowledge resided had been pulverized. The last thing it saw and felt was the burning steel ends of the Super Shotgun pressed into its face.
BOOM!
The Slayer desperately wanted to take off his helmet and spit at the carcass of the cybernetic demon spider, but taking hefty willpower, he refrained from doing so. With clenched fists, the armored demon killer turned back into the slave market, making sure to close the hellish gates this time. The slaves in the cages watched in dead silence as the Hellwalker tread softly to the body of the young teenage boy.
Emaciated, skeletal, frail. Blonde hair that was long and matted. Green eyes glossed over. Their broken body was smothered by whiplashes, burns, and cuts that never healed properly. Signs of more creative torture techniques lay faded below all the other scars. Any vestiges of clothes had been reduced to rags covering the bare essentials, their chest burned inward from the demon's Argent Plasma weapon. The boy with no known name, no known family, and no known friends. In all likelihood, the only one to even remember this boy ever existed would be the Doom Slayer, who stood above him like a sorrowful god.
It was for this reason that the Slayer took a moment to memorize the boy's face. Another casualty, this time brought on by an oversight. The Scourge of Hell picked the boy's corpse up gently and moved it towards the knight's quarters, not caring for the many pairs of eyes staring at him.
"I do not wish to interrupt, however, I'm detecting over a dozen new bio-signatures entering the vicinity, they appear to be some form of Possessed." Dr. Hayden spoke in a tone of respect for the dead boy.
The Slayer noticed them out of the corner of his vision. Cold-Blooded Assassins: Shadow Lizardmen, according to the Shield's HUD. Corrupted Lizard Beast-men, with burning red eyes, and very openly hostile. For the time being though, they kept their distance, perching themselves on the cages and parapets like predators sizing up prey.
The Slayer entered the knight's barracks and laid the boy to rest on a fanciful bed, likely the one belonging to the commander. He placed a fine silk pillow below his head and crossed his arms over his burnt chest. In one last gesture of respect, the Slayer closed the boy's eyes, allowing him to sleep in peace. He bowed his head in respect.
'What the hell is wrong with this planet? Not even the Argenta at their worst would allow this. First I take on a ward because nowhere else will protect her, now I find something so fucking twisted it actually got me to stop chasing demons. Nothing has ever pulled that off!'
Another moment of silence passed before the Slayer turned and caught a Shadow Lizardman by the snout. With a slash of the Doomblade, he bisected the creature and walked out of the knight's quarters. He noticed that the other Shadow Lizardmen had come much closer. With a crack of his knuckles, the Slayer lunged to face the demons head-on.
(VEGA Core - DOOM 2016 OST, Mick Gordon)
(1:04)
"Kill the Slayer!" One of the Shadow Lizardmen screeched out like nails on a chalkboard.
The cold-blooded reptiles met the hot-blooded warrior in a strike that decimated flesh and bone as another Blood Punch drove into the horde. The golden divine power of the attack irradiating the fiendish reptilians painfully.
The Slayer didn't need guns for this…
His fists were clenched tightly and he threw force into every strike. His punches met corrupted shadowy flesh with enough force to shake the earth. Several Shadow Lizards attempted to dodge with mixed results.
Creatures born of darkness and not fully under Hell's influence, the Shadow Lizardmen could blend in with fire and shadow. Striking victims from places that felt impossible. They were feared as assassins, spread across multiple worlds by Hell's conquests. Their skills were honed by constant war with demon elites.
But all that skill meant little against the Doom Slayer. A man who'd spent several lifetimes fighting in fire and shadow to become a creature the Dark Lord himself was wary of.
The Shadow Lizards swarmed the Slayer, Hell Blades glancing of the Praetor Suit. The Slayer swung his fists, making as many calculated strikes as he could manage. Shadow Lizardmen were a slippery bunch, allowing many to dodge the onslaught, keeping in pace with the Hellwalker.
His fury growing, the Slayer bull-charged the nearest Shadow Lizardman. The remaining Shadow Lizardmen jumped when the Slayer and the Lizardman he'd grappled crashed through the main stage. Everything was still. The Shadow Lizardmen edged closer to the collapsed stage with cursed steel at the ready.
WHAM!
A dead Shadow Lizard's corpse slammed into the group. A blur of flesh and metal flashed before their eyes as the Slayer used the Corpse as a flail. The Shadow Lizardmen renewed their assault, doing their best to dodge the swinging corpse of their comrade.
With the Slayer's range of attack extended the Shadow Lizardmen now found it harder to get a strike in on the Slayer. The vengeful duel came to a heel when one Shadow Lizardman managed to slice through the dead Shadow Lizardman and lunged at the Slayer. "Kill Slayer, claim reward!" it shrieked.
But this attack was anticipated. The Doom Slayer was counting on it. While the daring Shadow Lizardman was still recovering from the initial swing the Slayer snatched it by the snout. The Slayer held the jaws in his hands, the Shadow Lizardman's eye widened as it realized what was about to happen to it. It dropped its sword and clawed desperately at the Doom Slayer's gauntlets. The Slayer stretched its jaws apart until…
SQUELCH.
The Shadow Lizardman flailed as its jaw was ripped from its face, the Slayer continued to pull down, stripping the flesh from its ribcage. As the Slayer cast the body aside, another two Shadow Lizardmen jumped onto his back. The Slayer shook violently to get the demons off his back while they attempted to strangle him. But their grip was very strong.
"Three of them on your twelve, coming in for an attack!" Hayden warned.
He looked up and saw the three more Shadow Lizardmen rushed forward with the tips of their blades aimed for the Slayer's neck. The Slayer realized he wasn't going to shake off the Shadow Lizardmen on his back in time. Time to change tactics, the Equipment Launcher sprung forward and launched an Ice Bomb at the demons. With an inch to spare the three Shadow Lizardmen turned to ice.
'Wouldn't getting turned to ice outright kill a cold-blooded creature?'
Focusing attention to the Shadow Lizardmen on his back, the Slayer attempted to throw them off again. The two shadowy demons reacted by tightening their grip. The Slayer's anger boiled and he threw himself back into a brick wall. One Shadow Lizard loosened its grip enough for the Slayer to throw his right arm around himself and grab the demon by the throat.
He threw the Shadow Lizardman in his hand into the frozen three and shattered them. The Slayer heaved and threw the second clinging Shadow over his shoulder and to the ground. A curb stomp ended the wretched demon's life.
From orbit Dr. Hayden monitored the crisis, he noticed multiple Argent signatures moving to converge on the Slayer's position at once from all over the massive city. "Hurry, the longer you spend fighting in this place, the more demons will be drawn to you!"
'Nothing's ever easy, is it.'
The Slayer snatched another Shadow Lizardman out of the air. He threw the demon to the ground with little thought. Before the Shadow Lizardman could process its predicament the Slayer finished it off with a curb stomp. He couldn't tell if it was his mind playing tricks on him or if the feeling was genuine but the Slayer could feel the impending demons racing his way with every passing second he wasted on these Shadows. He needed to end this fast.
The Slayer grit his teeth and drew the Doomblade. He focused, controlled his breathing, he could feel the movements of the Shadow Lizardmen.
'Wait…'
In a moment of neither brilliance nor desperation, the remaining Shadow Lizardmen, like so many cultists before them, decided to throw themselves at the Slayer all at once.
'Now!'
The Slayer turned heel and slashed. He slew three with the Doombalde, the rest were unable to stop the momentum of their attacks. The Slayer had them right where he wanted them. For the Shadow Lizardmen, it was all over faster than they could perceive, for the Slayer had regained full control of the fight. In seconds, all Shadows were dead. All splayed out across the ground with ruptured guts and shattered spines.
The Slayer exhaled the breath he had been holding in.
(End Music)
The Slayer briefly surveyed the carnage he had wrought before turning back to the cages holding the hundreds of human slaves.
"Although I know you do not care, I must warn you," Hayden stated calmly, "the economic consequences for Siltvelt if you go through with this, will be… catastrophic. I do very much believe you are about to destroy their biggest source of income."
The Doom Slayer simply cracked his knuckles, as far as Siltvelt was concerned, the already thin barrier between (Demi-)human and demon had been vaporized entirely.
'Good, I'm gonna ruin this place harder than the stock market crash of 1929.'
He went over to the nearest cage of starved and begging humans, in a single fluid motion tore the metal door off of the prison box. The grinding screeching sound of durable Zeltoble steel bending like it was paper and breaking like it was a twig made many of the (former) slaves jump in place while the more hearing sensitive panicked as they clamped their arms hard over their ears. The Slayer ignored them and moved onto the next cage, ruthlessly repeating the process.
Many formerly enslaved humans took tentative steps out of their cages, their motions slowed and weak as their legs remembered how to walk. Some of the younger humans clutched their stomachs from the hunger pains their treatment at the hands of the slavers had caused. They couldn't help but stare in awe at the Slayer. He was the unstoppable force and the immovable object. They felt like they were standing in the presence of God's chosen avenging angel, sent from heaven to repel the dark hordes and vile men alike.
So far, the Slayer hadn't done anything to disprove that notion. As the Slayer took a step back and crossed his arms to give the people space, the first thing the humans did before anything else was to search the masses for friends and family. The slavers had soullessly sorted their captives not only by age and gender but also by other miscellaneous attributes. The market was set up ergonomically to send customers to specific points to purchase slaves for specific purposes. There were patterns, traits desirable for different purposes among the people in front of him. And while there weren't necessarily any signs to state what slaves were kept where the Slayer could hazard educated guesses by context clues alone. Each guess viler than the last. The Slayer elected to stop thinking about it, a quick Slipgate, and these people were out of harm's way, hopefully, they'd never suffer such a fate again.
One woman stepped a few feet back hoping to find her family amongst the crowd, her separation from the group catching the Slayer's eye for a moment.
SLICE!
A flash of inky ebony flew behind the woman so fast even the Slayer didn't quite catch what it was. The woman stopped moving for a split second, then in a moment of sheer confusion, the woman's head rolled off her shoulders, blood spraying out and showering the crowd in a coat of liquid crimson. All except the Slayer panicked, he uncrossed his arms and stared at the spot where the woman stood.
"There is an unknown hostile in the vicinity, I am scanning for its biosignature." Dr. Hayden commented with a level tone.
'Shit, was that a Sin Scissors? Or a Death Scythe? Didn't I drive those demon species to extinction several millennia ago?'
The Slayer drew his Super Shotgun, a demon akin to a Sin Scissors and their cousins were the last thing he needed with a scared crowd around him. Another ebony flash and another head rolled, another geyser of blood permeated the crowd of fearful humans, the strike coming so quick the body took countable seconds to register the hit. The presence of the Slayer did little to calm the people. It now felt like the reaper had come for them, sent by the devil to spite God's efforts to save them.
"The entity is moving too fast for me to scan, try and slow it down." Dr. Hayden advised urgently.
Another slice, another head, another blood splatter, and a louder symphony of screams. The Slayer stepped into the crowd as the humans all cowered to the ground and covered their heads. The ragged breathing of the hundred rang shallowly in the Doom Slayer's ears as he focused on the next attack. Another ebony flash…
BOOM!
The Super Shotgun's blast tore a chunk out from the upright dark-oak beam. All fell silent except for the echo of the gunshot across the market. The collective rugged breathing ran chaotically rampant as the Slayer observed the area he'd shot.
"The hostile entity has paused its attack, are you planning to kill or capture it? Or are you waiting for the bio-scan to be completed?" Hayden asked with light sarcasm.
'Now is not the time for snarking, jackass.'
The Slayer placed two shells within the breach of the Super Shogun and snapped it closed. Another ebony flash, and the resounding clang of a blade bouncing off the Praetor Suit's neck guard. The Slayer spun around and swung his fist, but the cloaked entity flipped over him, dodging the strike.
"The scan is in progress, keep them busy." Dr. Hayden instructed calmly.
The Slayer launched a hammer strike at the figure who now stood right in front of him. The cloak lowered and flipped out of the path of the attack, the hammer strike pounding the path, sending pebbles and grainy sand flying. The Slayer jabbed forward with the Doomblade, a short sword parried as the grim figure lunged back towards a cage. With the grace of a ballerina, the figure leaped up and over the Slayer and glided onto the roof of a guard post. Landing, the slim figure crouched low to the tiles, their cloak hiding their face and their form.
"Scan complete. The bio-signature has been recorded previously..." Hayden informed
The figure stood up, swinging the cloak into the wind away from her lithe form. A crazed grin spread across her pale face and a black and white striped tail curled beside them.
"...as demi-human." Dr. Hayden concluded.
"So many escapees, so much prey!" Mina Nori said in a sultry voice, aroused by the prospect of the hunt.
The Doom Slayer scowled as Mina crouched once more, like a hungry tiger about to pounce.
-DOOM-
Codex Entry - Demons: Hell Caina 1
The Hell Caina are seldom seen outside of Hell. While occasionally utilized as shock troopers in conquests of more primitive worlds, the Hell Caina are far more often seen as slaves of the many Demon Priests within Hell (see entries on Hell Judecca for further information regarding their servitude).
Typically, Hell Caina are garbed in black robes similar to their masters and are armed with razor scythes in combat. ARC scientists speculate that this demon is where the concept of the Grim Reaper originated from, similar to how Urdak influenced religious concepts of Heaven.
Their supposed task on the battlefield is to collect the bodies and souls of the slain and secure them for transport to Hell. It is uncommon that they will actually be seen. For this many groups of Hell Caina to be seen out in the open is rare, and somewhat concerning.
-Page Directory-
Codex Entry - Demons: Shadow Lizardmen 1
The Shadow Lizardmen was formerly a race of reptilian humanoids whose world was conquered by Hell sometime during the Dark Realm's second age. While some Lizardmen seemingly escaped to another world, the majority were pulled into Hell and 'reconditioned' as demonic assassins, serving in a nightmarish guild called 'the Devil's Hand'. It is believed the Shadow Lizardmen are equal to a member of the Night Sentinel assassin guild 'Deft Hand'.
During the Hell-Earth war, Shadow Lizardmen were used to harass ARC command staff and key operators. They gained total infamy with the ARC by being the demons to defeat Samuel Hayden during Operation Hellbreaker.
-Page Directory-
Codex Entry - Wave Creatures: Goblins 1
There is very little previously recorded research in Melromarc or Siltvelt that can give me a full picture of these creatures outside of them being frail and unintelligent. However, what little data the VEGA drones have gathered have painted a vivid and horrific picture.
Goblins are a parasitic species that require an unwilling host to reproduce. They are only semi-sentient and generally possess low intelligence. They are, however capable of learning and adapting. They are by every definition an invasive species, and I can only theorize about their origins at the moment.
With the number of disappearances and destroyed villages, these parasites have caused, and the state survivors have been found in, I find myself genuinely disturbed by king Aultcray's reaction to the problem: nothing. No extra guards, no relief efforts, and no sympathy for survivors. I cannot tell if he is actively being malicious, or horrifically incompetent. Either will spell disaster for both our efforts against the demons, and for his kingdom at large.
-DOOM-
(A/N): Hello, not dead. Personal stuff happened. It wasn't pretty. Outside of personal stuff, started playing Sea of Thieves, I'm about 5-15 levels away per faction from becoming a Pirate Legend and have learned that being a solo slooper can suck ass if you're confronted by other players. I'm disappointed by the lack of FanFic for this wonderful game.
I bought, played, and beat Halo Infinite on normal, that was fun, now for heroic difficulty. The Master Chief's new AI is an adorable little bean and I hope nothing bad happens to her as we continue to rebuild the UNSC. I drew a portrait of the new AI and posted it on my DeviantArt page (EmeraldArtist95). If you wanna look for it, you know the page when you see it, I posted the cover of this very FanFic on it, you can also find some fun art of Doomguy babysitting Cerberus (Helltaker) and sketches crossing Dead Space over with The Owl House.
Five Nights at Freddy's: Security Breach. Haven't bought or played it yet. Hell, I hadn't even noticed it released. Lucky break, eh? I saw others play it and it is abrasively clear how bad Covid -19 fucked over this game's development. Bugs everywhere, painfully obvious cut content and Mr. Burnt Rabbit Man came out of nowhere even though on some level most people knew he was around somewhere. And that's not even touching what happened with Scott himself.
Tried to get a PC hardware upgrade over the holidays, then a damn defective pixel triggered my OCD in just the right way that I had it refunded and replaced with another of the same model. And then that one also had a defective pixel, in the same area as the other one, hopefully, by the next chapter, that'll have been resolved permanently. So I'm still using the old PC.
My life has become so mundane that I've started to draft a fan comic based upon a stupid OTP idea I had, (Isaac ClarkeXEda Clawthorne). Making me the second person to cross Dead Space and The Owl House together into one gloriously chaotic AU of witches, magic, Plasma Cutters, companionship, and Necromorphs.
Everything is chaos. I've learned to accept it.
This chapter was supposed to be longer, but:
1: Ending the chapter on Mina's arrival felt right.
2: This took entirely too long to complete, and I apologize for that.
And now, to add my own two cents to the Filo debate with an omake:
Omake - The Fluffy Gremlin:
The Slayer and the now 15 year-old-looking Raphtalia stared at what appeared to be an ostrich egg of some kind marked with a purple crest placed beside a secondary monitor on the Fortress of Doom's bridge. Neither was entirely sure how they'd come into possession of it.
"I didn't pick it up." Raphtalia deflected before Dr. Hayden could ask.
"The Slayer didn't acquire it either. " Dr. Hayden responded, "It must have fallen in with our salvage efforts after the last wave."
Raphtalia tilted her head, her face scrunched up in concentration, "How would that be possible?" she asked, "We were both were cautious about what scrap we salvaged in the capital."
"...The only real possibility I can see then… is that a third party had smuggled it into our salvage pile when you two weren't looking." Dr. Hayden theorized.
"Who would be dense enough to try that?" Raphtalia asked incredulously.
"Keep in mind, Raphtalia," Hayden remarked, "we've already found the workings of a massive political plot going on below us, it is not too much of a stretch to assume at least one party down there is actively attempting to fold the Slayer into their schemes."
'The obvious conspiracy planetside is actively seeking me out, fucking great.'
Raphtalia nodded. The Slayer shifted slightly on his feet, not taking his eyes off the egg. Probably because he was just as clueless as to what to do as she was. Raphtalia coughed gently into her elbow then continued to stare at the egg.
"..."
The awkward silence was turning into its own form of torture. Raphtalia spoke up.
"So, what do we do with it?"
Dr. Hayden paused, "If we were to take the newborn filolial into our custody, we would have to funnel valuable resources into caring for it. It would divert our efforts away from the demons further. Aside from that, I am not certain a filolial could last in a full-scale demonic battle."
"Could we drop the chick off and have one of the other heroes care for it?"
"Given their track record thus far, and based upon what you've personally seen of them, do you honestly have the confidence to say that the infant filolial would survive past the first few days in their care?"
Raphtalia cringed, "N-no."
'Even I'm not that cruel.'
The egg began to rock, The Slayer took a step back and Raphtalia put her face closer to the egg. The egg cracked, then shattered. In its place was a fluffy newborn filolial. When the baby bird's eyes opened, Raphtalia's face filled its vision.
And then the baby filolial jumped at Raphtalia's chest, the stunned girl quickly scrambling to catch it. The Slayer stifled a laugh as the baby filolial cutely snuggled Raphtalia, the poor tanuki girl blushing red.
"It would appear…" Dr. Hayden stated clinically, but with hints of amusement, "that the baby filolial has imprinted on you. It now believes you to be its mother."
"Its M-mother!?" Raphtalia screeched, her face completely beet-red and steam comically rising from her ears.
"Perhaps tasking Raphtalia with caring for the filolial could be a good lesson in responsibility." The good doctor suggested.
Raphtalia trembled in embarrassment, her tanuki tail curled and her ears flattened. The Slayer meanwhile was giving the idea more thought than he probably should've.
'That still leaves the issue of how this fluffy gremlin got here in the first place.'
Although it should be probably obvious who's responsible for Filo's presence on the Fortress, I'm just gonna stop there. If this plot thread seems interesting enough to you guys I might make it canon, as, at the moment, Filo is both canon and non-canon.
Alternatively, have Ren raise the bird. Omake for later.
Till next chapter. Hopefully not too far ahead from now.