Yeah all know the drill. I do not own Diablo (beyond the purchased game). I do not own That time I was reincarnated as a Slime (beyond the purchased manga). I do not need to be reminded that I do not own them and not rich because of it. Carry on! (... waits till you leave before breaking down and crying because of the lack of ownership.)
On another note... as is a growing bad habit of mine, I basically got this idea stuck in my head. As some of you may know this tends to bug me till I finally cave in and write it down. Having said that, and having said this before, I'm going to put this on the sidelines for a bit till I get my other stories under control and completed. As such there will be erratic updates at best for those who are interested in this particular story.
For what it's worth I hope you enjoy it nevertheless.
Out of Place: Forced out the door
Chapter One
Sanctum of the Peculiar, The Silver City, High Heavens
"When one ever one had the most strange yet spectacular fortune to ever gaze upon the majestic fortress city they would be undoubtedly awestruck by the majestic tiers, the brilliant towers and often domed structures a stranger might mistake for a home or two if not some sort of government building. I certainly was at first when I had the chance to simply observe my surroundings. Living here for an uncounted number of millennia, eons even, however has certainly dampen the beautiful luster for me. Do not mistake me. It is still breath taking and invigorating to see, some days more so than others, an immortal's paradise even so to speak, but when you see the exact same thing over and over and over and over again and you my occasionally get the idea to run wild with a bucket of paint you managed to smuggle in... I'm still considering which paint would be as garish as it would be shocking to the Angiris Council. I'll catch hell for it, may even get tossed out of Heaven at long last, but I would imagine it would be worth it.
"I'm rambling. Sorry. But I suppose it can't be helped. After all, my newfound journal, you are probably the closest I can 'talk' to so openly with any comprehension of what I feel, one sided that though that might be..."
I paused in contemplation just long enough to watch the ink dry. "... bah." It wasn't like anyone else was going to read this when the Scroll of Fate was usually a quick hop, skip and a wing from here. Okay maybe not but time was virtually meaningless here, especially during 'peace time' now that the legions of Hell were happily screwing humanity over either to amuse themselves or to convert humanity to their side. Regardless I take a moment to dip my quill into the inkwell to refill it. After giving it a sharp shake to rid it of excess ink I resume where I left off.
"At any rate, to any thief or likewise unwanted trespasser (even if you had good intentions for doing so or at least stumbled upon this by accident. I just don't like it when others touch my belongings) who manages to take a look at this, I am Jack. To an outsider I would probably be better known as Jack the Coward (thank you so much Imperius, you jackass). Jack the Castellan (thank you Tyreal). Jack, Lord of Chairs—"
I couldn't surprise a little giggle at that.
"—(odd as it is ludicrous, you'd be surprised how favored I became for making chairs. Yes. You read that right. I regularly beat off requests to make chairs with a stick here.)—"
Mostly from Imperius of all angels to be honest. You'd think he'd love that throne I gave him just to get him off my back but nooooo... it was the bean bag chair that was his favorite. Granted he uses that throne now and then for important matters but you'd think you'd know the closest thing we have to an egotist after half an eternity of mutual hatred for each other yet no, he's weirdly in love with bean bag chairs for some reason. Which he is always rough on that I might add, hence his multiple requests for them... Either he has successfully learned to troll me or he's weirder than I ever considered him capable of, which is to say I never thought him capable to begin with. Anyway...
"—The Grand Artificer (a story for a later date). My semi-arguable favorite, The Tinker (incidentally what led to my eventual naming as the Grand Artificer). Or perhaps by my most preferable title yet: Jack, ARCHANGEL OF CHAOS!"
I couldn't help but giggle a little deliriously at that. How it rankled that jackass so much whenever I do that. Always got a giggle from Auriel too. Ithereal was usually a flip of a coin at best on most centuries. Tyreal, aside from the initial snort had been otherwise indifferent whenever I make that declaration. Maltheal...
... since day one he always creeped me out. Maybe it was because of what I knew from Diablo III. Maybe he was naturally... off-putting. Either way though I personally found it sad that I always found more comfort in Imperius' company than in his... I can't help but have my pangs of regret though. Would it have made a difference if I stopped hiding behind Tyreal as much as I did? That if I had been more assertive and ignored my discomfort, would I have bent Maltheal's ear enough to keep him within the High Heavens? I would like to think so to be honest... then again, after spending enough time with Ithereal I cannot help but suspect such actions would've been for naught whether I like it or not. Such was the fickleness of fate.
It took a drop of ink splattering onto the page to knock me out of my ruminations. I groaned softly in irritation before dumping the quill to rest inside the ink bottle, crack of knuckles and bring my hands to hover over the sheet of paper. It took barely a moment before that errant splattering was collected from the parchment and hung in my invisible grasp as a liquid ball once more. Barely a second later it was dumped back into the very container which I retrieve my quill from. Now where was I? Let's see—oh right. Me, ARCHANGEL OF CHAOS!"Heheheheh!"
Right. Be serious now. I don't want to end up forgetting this too a millennia now...
"I honestly hope I'll be amused by that till eternity's last dying breath.
"Sadly that brings me to the point as to why I write this.
"To you stranger, assuming of course there is someone other than myself reading this at a later time, it may seem odd that an angel would be making a journal about himself. A—"
... damn it. Not another one I can't remember. No no no no no...
Deep 'breath'. Deep 'breath'. Just gather the ink onto the quill. There are other words to use.
"—personal history written by their own hand. An act, to be honest, is so exceptionally rare that I can assure you that, if I remember correctly—"
After making damn sure to write it down once I figured out I was all but volunteered to partake in the Eternal Conflict...
"—that only two others have had such an item like myself. Then again I suppose it is entirely possible—"
... Now that I think about it wasn't that one guy also writing a journal? What was his name again? Damn it, I'm crap with names. He was bugging the council enough to go find Maltheal after he vanished, that much I remember. Where's that tablet with my notes? ... Bah. Change "two" to "three" and call it good.
"—that there are more that I simply don't know about. Unlike myself however most angels don't have something akin to a residence. More to the point however, let me ask you this, dear reader: of the names Tyreal, Auriel, Ithereal, Maltheal, Imperius and Jack, which do these stand out the most? If you pardon the sense of smugness here, here's a hint if you are genuinely having trouble: it's like counting a farmer amongst a congregation of human kings, queens, emperors and empresses all sharing the same room. In other words someone fundamentally different than a notable crowd regardless of their choices, if any were involved at all.
"To stop beating around the bush, originally I was human. One who happened upon a frightening realization that he is losing memories of the life he was forced to leave behind by virtue of living, surviving and witnessing an entire epoch's worth of history both great and mundane. One predominantly marked with an uncountable host of years of a horrific war against monsters that would make you beg for either death as a kindness or insanity to shelter yourself from your captors, intrigue even for lack of a better word, and witnessing history unfold in its terrible splendor.
"... what recollection I have as my life as a human is now but a shadow of its former glory if you could even call it that. As it stands now I'm selfishly cling to words that I barely remember the meaning to; images that can scarcely evoke a sense of understanding for me any longer; notions that are half missing and songs not only becoming more alien to me but are almost incapable of being sung any more if I remember them at all. If this continues then it is very likely that in the turn of the next century or the one after it, or perhaps even another thousand years from now I will unlikely have anything left to remind myself of who I am, my identity, how I came to be... To me it would be as if I had died without realizing it. Would I still know who I am if such an event occurred? Or would I begin to spiral downward for knowing I am different than my comrades both new and old without an inkling as to why it is so? Worse, would I become the next Inarius in doing so? Even if that wasn't the case it nevertheless disturbs me, hence this journal. With any luck I would find some solace should I forget who I am or what I was. As such I will start from the beginning, how I came to be, for whatever it's worth. While I can recall it with surety, even now as I write this I noticed that the details are slowly slipping away—"
KR-KRAK!
Something struck the room with such force that it not only rattled my furniture but knocked some of my collected mementos from both Pandemonium and Sanctuary off their places from the wall. And though it was a secondary concern both the shock of the force that rattled me to my 'bones' as well and the jolting of the desk under me had forced me to draw a rather jagged line coursing downward from the very last "y" I drew. It still annoyed me however. Even so however that was a moot point at best. Either something blew up in the Sanctum again or something... worse happened.
I honestly hoped it wasn't what I thought it was. But knowing what I knew, and Tyreal having renounced his divinity some time ago just after his return from his forced sojourn in Pandemonium, it was almost impossible for it to be anything else. It was only a matter of time at any rate.
Without truly stopping to think about it I stuffed the first page of my memoir inside the confines of the robe that surrounded my armor where I knew a pocket was to be. From there I got up from my chair, snatched Evos from her cozy little nook on the wall and all but stormed out the door into the depths of the sanctum where the front door was. Already I was joined by my fellow angels from their own stations deeper within our collective workshop that was the building, a few of which rallying behind me and following in step whilst the others rushed ahead to the sanctum's primary entrance. Once we entered the vestibule we had our answer in not one but two forms... seen from afar amongst the spires doorways that probably hadn't been in use for an age had been opened along the peaks of each tower to let loose a red light. If one didn't know better they might have thought they were also acting as portals for a low but powerful hum not unlike the roar of a grand warhorn... an old warning system used only during times of an invasion to alert what few angels that were not aware of such an event taking place. The second...
From the open doorway of the sanctum's foyer one could see at least a third of the upper half belonging to the Diamond Gates. The very same gates that stood brilliantly and proudly before every denizen of the Burning Hells and kept them out no matter what they threw at it. Bodies, claws, siege weapons of truly horrific make and curses, all of which failed... It was gone now.
It was finally time.
When my attention was drawn to the rushing forms of angels taking wing to the door to undoubtedly join the battle ahead with what was undoubtedly the first weapons they could get their hands on from what few weapon racks we had in the vestibule which acted more as a display for what few visitors the sanctum ever entertained. They were effective weapons, genuinely made for war, but there was only so much there for everyone in the vicinity.
CLACK!
By collecting just enough energy to the butt end of Evos and slamming it onto the floor I had successfully distracted every angel from the call of battle just long enough to give me their attention.
"Sound the rally! It is time the Burning Hells is reminded as to why they never succeeded in taking the Silver City, gate or no!"
"Yes Grand Artificer!"
Those that tried to rush to the battlefront returned and mustered into a formation. As for the others, specifically four of those not with a weapon, rushed to the far walls at either side as another two literally dove toward a pair of circular tile on the floor before me, both of which hugging a larger circle of a tile bearing as detailed an image of the Silver Spire as it could be managed. Regardless, with a flick I deployed a pair of prongs from the head of the staff as the two ahead of me depressed the aforementioned tiles with a foot for each of them. From the third tile a column promptly shot up, one which bore two holes which were the exact width for the prongs I had willed into existence on the side facing me.
In seconds flat I slam Evos into the column's side, the prongs easily slipping into the holes and turned them as I or anyone else would a key. Despite lacking the appearance of mobility the stone gave way to shift in accordance with my twisting till the lock was not only perpendicular to its original setting but a heavy and resounding "thunk" was heard. Not even a moment later every angel on the main floor ahead of me barring those at the doorway or along the walls took flight to not only avoid the jolt that rocked the floor but the movement brought on by it separating down the middle and sliding into their hidden recesses. Sadly for me however I didn't allow myself the time to stay and watch what was to happen: an entire series of floors brought up from below, each one bearing a small army's worth of weapons, siege weapons and various bottled volatile substances capable of blowing the demons back to hell where they belonged. I had more pressing matters to attend to borne from half an eternity's service.
"I want a squad with me! We're going to the Silver Spire's armory!"
Though I heard the affirmation, and even saw some of my comrades immediately move to gather around me, I couldn't wait to truly acknowledge any of it much like I couldn't wait for the first of the floor to reach and rise above the primary floor's level; I took flight and soared straight for the Silver Spire before even the first angel with a weapon formed up to act as my bodyguard for the unlocking of the Spire's armory, assuming no one had done so already.
On reflection I suppose I didn't have to go... but, despite knowing it would be alright, that there was a literally hero bounding after the devil himself, it was impossible not to feel at least some compulsion to defend the only place I can call home for a literal age.
XVX
The Silver Spire
Though the city had never been breached before the Spire was the most secure place within the High Heavens. Hell, the council room whenever there was a brief paranoia of assassins or worse yet traitors lurking about, barring Inarius neither was ever the case as far as I knew, had a less supplemented number of guards to it than the spire on a regular basis. Even then the angels have taken great care to ensure that if the demons had ever gotten this far it would be a slaughter long before they had me tinker with some of its defenses: on land there was only one way in in an effort to dissuade the demons from bringing in siege bridges for their foot soldiers. Even if they did they would have to face the concentrated firepower of ballista, catapult and cannon emplacements placed on numerous balconies ready to strike them or any other siege engine down. Or, if need be, destroy the bridge if things were truly desperate. Even so...
Should the demons ever come by air however they would be met with a grisly fate of their own; the ballista wasn't there solely for siege weapons. Even without them there were plenty of balconies only accessible by those with wings staffed with archers, crossbowmen, riflemen... I was particularly proud of the gatling emplacements. Hell, it Imperius was is proud of them. Granted I wouldn't shed a tear if he were to drop dead but it was days like that that make my position as Grand Artificer both deserved and worth it. Oh the demons we mowed down... Sadly it didn't work that well outside of the High Heaven's without a harmonic battery or an angelic crew to feed it ammunition. I'm just glad the demons never figured out how to replicate it, the fuckers...
At any rate... Should worse come to worst in that the enemy had indeed gotten this far each and every section has a battalion's worth of guards ready to fight to the death to ensure the Crystal Arch did not fall. By protocol the Spire was sealed completely from the outside world should an invasion finally breach into the city before it. No one in, no one out beyond the members of the Council and a very short list and exclusive list of those who in some way, shape or form are beneficial to its security. Given that a number of my inventions were rung around the spire, awaited to ambush a trespasser, or to be wielded by the garrison for a valiant last stand I was one of those few to ensure the traps were readied to be deployed at the very least.
Unfortunately that sense of caution was moot now. Diablo had came far faster than I had anticipated. The defensive balconies relevant to the primary doorway were nothing more than smoldering ruin now. The door... what wasn't slag was desperately clinging onto the frame for dear life. The soldiers guarding the door had suffered a similar fate. Beyond the doorway itself I saw the first series of one of my personally installed defenses, the Cherubic Guardians, golems powered by the ambient energies of Heaven that were made in the likeness of the grand statues of angels beyond the Spire whenever they were not active, had been utterly demolished to inanimate stone and scrap metal...
"Damn it."
... Diablo, Lord of Terror. One of the seven Prime Evils before today. It took nothing less than an entire platoon's worth to stand a chance against any of them in direct combat whenever the archangels weren't present, including Belial, the weakest of the seven whenever there was an exceptionally rare encounter with him... Now, with the sum total of the seven in one host... If anyone outside of the nephalam had any chance to stand against him it would be one of the members of the Council. Worse, it might take the full might of the archangels combined to face him on equal ground.
"... snerk!"
... you'd think that after surviving the Eternal Conflict prior to the abduction of the Eye of Anu to this point I'd be better prepared for this sort of moment.
"Grand Artificer."
I jerk my head in the direction of the one who addressed me before returning my gaze to the shattered doorway. I then jerked my head up to the causeway that connected the two towers that made up the Spire where another battalion awaited to fight to the last. Half a second later I point Evos up to it. "I want three to inform the garrison of the bridge that Diablo comes for them. Hopefully that'll give them some time to prepare. As for the rest of us..." I turn my head back to the door, all but ignoring the confirmations to my order and the subsequent take off to enact it. "There's nothing to it I guess."
"Behind us!"
We all whirled around, weapons at the ready in time to see the first of a charging horde of demons barreling down the bridge we had landed upon. From imps to destroyers, succubae and human-like beings of flame and metal, oppressors and even mallet lords... it was a regular who's who of the slavering bloodthirsty bastards.
"I sincerely did not miss any of these bastards," I hum to myself before I realized it. Even so I simply shrugged it off.
"Hear hear!"
"I wished this was under better circumstances."
"Let's drive this filth out!"
"FOR THE HIGH HEAVENS!"
My guards rushed forth and met the screaming wretches head on with dutiful and zealous vigor, yet I hung back. I just needed a moment after all. Just need to gather a wee bit of the ambient energies in the air... Oh this'll be good.
With a small grunt I took flight with Evos securely tucked into the crook of my arm as my hands struggled to keep back a burgeoning ball of brilliant light. By the time any of the oppressors in the rear noticed me and begin to try to intercept me it was far too late. Even as the first of them pushed themselves off the ground to strike me down I thrust my hands forward and willed the chaos forth... hehehehe!
The ball exploded forth like a hail of shrapnel. What it didn't slam into and outright killed upon impact exploded with such force that entire limbs, heads and other assorted body parts were either fatally crushed or else severed completely. It was glorious... Sadly the mallet lords were made of sterner stuff. Yet for all their might we angels will always have the advantage of maneuverability. Even so there were the demons who happened to have been behind the mallet lords at the time to be mindful of however. Worse yet there were more demons pouring... from...
Damn it!
It's worse than I thought. Summoners! Demons in a circle conjuring and maintaining a portal to Hell at the very mouth of the bridge! We can hold the line with all our might but it won't matter if sheer numbers from unending reinforcements would crush us! Not only that but if they break through... Doomed though they may be against Diablo, they had a fighting chance to at least stall him long enough for a counterattack to come and force him back. Worse, Diablo's goal is beyond a doubt the very heart of the High Heaven's, the Crystal Arch itself. He won't think twice about any survivors he leaves in his wake. I'd rather not witness what demons do to survivors yet again if it can be helped.
"Summoners in the back! Break off and annihilate them!"
Like a well oiled machine they broke off from their current engagements and took flight, each one darting into the air around the oncoming force in order to head straight for the summoners in the rear. As for me? A variation of the same spell as before, just for the oppressors and Azmodan's little flying fuckers if they show up... Bye bye you advantage stealing bastards.
Like before the ball of energy exploded outward. Unlike before where 'hail' pelted and mutilated the demon horde tendrils of light lashed forth and arced in the air to either erect an impromptu cage around the bridge or else surged forth along the bridge itself straight for the oncoming wave of grotesquely misshapen flesh. Those that could took no chances and dodged them if they could by any means necessary, even if it meant literally using their brethren as a shield of flesh and bone if they were truly desperate for their survival. Others simply didn't take heed or perhaps thought they could best my attack and thus didn't bother to dodge at all. Either way they weren't my true targets at any rate. As the tendrils on the bridge speared and gutted what they could in their own countercharge, the tendrils in the air waved and arced as the main body sought to keep those capable of flight on the bridge, but even they weren't my true targets. Each movement they made that grounded the demons was just the consequence of the spearheads themselves weaving through the air in pursuit of those that had managed to give chase to the squad of angels as they made for the summoners, roughly three demons for every one of the nine that had stayed with me.
Unfortunately despite my efforts two of my comrades were swarmed despite their best efforts to either shake them off or outright defend themselves. With both sides clawing at each other in a desperate struggle to win they soon fell as neither could concentrate on keeping themselves airborne. They ended up falling below the cloud line before long before my tendrils could reach them... I had to break off the pursuit lest I overexert myself more so than I already am at this moment with this much of my personal power being put into—
SMACK! CRASH!
... Ow. Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-what the hell hi—DAMN IT I FORGOT ABOUT THE MALLET LORDS! Never mind that, I got overconfident! Never mind that either idiot, FLY DAMN YOU!
SMASH!
And I just got out in time... Regardless, I have to get the spell—DAMN IT! If I still had teeth they would probably be in danger of breaking now with how hard I would be gnashing them. They took to the air! They sure as hell aren't going to let me pull that trick off again any time soon if they can help it. Damn it!
... I don't have much of a choice, do I? I can't properly take to the air without getting mobbed. Despite being heavily dwindled I can't break through on foot with brute force without anything less than a platoon at my back. I can't even see if my squad had even succeeded in dispatching the summoners from here thanks to the girth of the freshly scarred mallet lords and the disheveled line of demons encroaching behind them. While I'm not proud of it I turned around and flew to and through the doorway of the Silver Spire's only land entrance.
... I hope the others are at least faring better than what I have planned.
XVX
As I had thought Diablo wasn't wasting time with tormenting his enemies this time around. My poor cherubs were utterly destroyed or mangled into a state being forced to shutdown. The emergency barriers had been smashed into and broken. Traps had been practically ignored or else dismissed with a telling claw strike. Angels had either been eviscerated, incinerated with nothing more than scorch marks to act as grave markers or had been flattened underfoot like insects. But there were survivors. Either they were too injured to be considered worth an extra ounce of effort or by some miracle were ignored entirely... they wouldn't be for too long however; as fast as angels were, as I was in this case, there was only so much space between us the approaching wave or murder and bloodthirst.
Those that could stand on their own power had happily acquiesced to my orders to grab as many weapons from the slain to fend off what was to come and have them deployed or distributed amongst the remaining defenders. Those that couldn't either due to heavy injury or even worse, dismemberment of entire limbs, were given choir rifles or shorts words if they couldn't make do with such heavy armaments... Even so, despite the grim situation at hand, or perhaps because of it, I couldn't help but smirk a little at seeing what remained of their stock of symphony mines being laid out in the only hallway into the primary chamber of this level of the Spire; my cohorts in the Sanctum were particularly proud of their creation. Sadly I couldn't afford to spend much time in overseeing what my fellow angels were doing: after repairing what I could of a gatling nest and ensuring it was operational for this desperate defense of ours I took to the half maimed remains of a defeated Cherubic Sentinel; far greater in size and strength to its more conventionally sized guardian predecessor, yet drew more power as well to operate to the point it needed a harmonic battery to even move. Though maimed and its harmonic battery was just as savaged as its hauling it was easy enough to patch up. Unfortunately however it was just that, a patch. Any more abuse to the exposed core after its emergency shutdown and it would without a doubt go off like a bomb, annihilating all unfortunate enough to be even at this artificial giant's feet should I get it to stand and fight again...
Here's to hoping the demons bastards are dumb enough to stick around for it! Come my child of stone and steel, RISE!
Bzz-Zzt! BrrrrRrrrrrr...
... RISE!
Bzzzzz-Zzzt! BrrrrRrrrrr...
The I couldn't help but feel a spark of hope and pride as the colossal simulacrum of an angel pushed itself back onto its feet and grabbed what was left of its equally gigantic sword.
"They come!"
... there goes my other hope of fixing up at least a couple of guardian cherubs. Even so I couldn't help but hang my head and sigh... and scoff for the sake of my morose mood. Diablo behind me, an army of demons in front, this may very well be my last battle. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by that concept... be they mortal, immortal or a god, we all eventually meet our end, don't we? I certainly had a surprisingly good run at least... Even so I still couldn't help myself but chuckle at my impending fate even as I resign myself to this orgy of violence to come. Shall we, Evos?
By my will Evos shifted into the form of a glaive form, even so it was once again in the crook of my arm as I took to the air once more to begin a bombardment of Hail Shots for what it was worth. Like with the bridge there wasn't much need for aim. Those with rifles had a similar idea even if it was comparatively more wild than mine by virtue of distance. Even the gunner took part in the action whereas our melee counterparts merely awaited for the demons to eventually break through our kill box merely by throwing everything they had into it. Even so, I just needed to draw on the ambient energies, be it angelic or hellish...
XVX
Lesser demons fell in droves as concentrated bolts of angelic energy lashed out from their desiccated stronghold. Even the greater demons were not getting through unscathed as their innumerable siblings and allies were pelted with what could only be described as a barrage of streaking light which detonated whatever it touched upon impacted with no distinction whatsoever between demonkind and their inanimate surroundings. Still victory was afoot at long last. Diablo himself marches upon the High Heaven's last bastion of strength as well as their beating heart. If there was to be any sport or revenge to be had with their old enemies it would be now before they were wiped out completely once and for all, to say nothing that would await those the Prime Evil learns had deliberately slinked away on purpose without a sense of purpose given by the Prime Evil himself...
Without care the demons pressed on as they braved the bulwark of holy and wild magic magic aimed at them, all the while trampling over and flattening those who were dead or dying without a second thought. Eventually their sheer numbers overwhelmed the barrier of angelic hellfire trained on them even though it never relented in the slightest. The wiser demons immediately broke off to the sides as the angels in their dogmatic zeal were determined to at least have the satisfaction of bringing down as many enemies as they could with them. That much they could respect at least... Regardless, in splitting from the pack that stubbornly dove straight for the nest of over glorified archers came fresher and more aggravating problems that hadn't been seen in an age: mines. The kind Azmodan desired but none could retrieve, and not for a lack of effort. But that was a separate matter entirely now. Diablo reigned supreme now. His orders were absolute: corrupt and destroy the High Heavens. If there was anything left standing then it would serve as a reminder that the Prime Evil conquered the unconquerable. As such many of the more learned demons happily threw stones, rubble or even their own unsuspecting kin into the massacre that awaited them whilst several others attempted to simply force their way through just like they did with the gauntlet they just endured.
They didn't last particularly long.
Sadly this wasn't the only obstacle. Depending on where they split off from they had at least one other obstacle to contend with. Those who began to flank to the left were soon stopped by a diminished cadre of angels who had seen better days, or, arguably worse if they had broken off to the right, a scarred replica of an angel the size of a small tower missing most of its shoulder. Conventional logic would dictate it would be nothing more than a lumbering brute due to its size, powerful but slow... veterans of the Eternal Conflict new better of course, even if this thing was utterly alien to them. The younglings however were foolishly cleaved apart with each swing of its half broken sword or else crushed under its boot or in its grip in the cases of the foolhardy that dared to fly near it. Those who haven't suffered this fate were either lucky enough that one of their allies were the unfortunate victims or were smart enough to make an attempt to dodge the hand in the first place, regardless, either set were keen on bringing this angelic behemoth by either maiming it the good old fashion way or hacking at its body or, more prudently, aiming straight for the gaping hole in its shoulder where lightning was crackling, a weak spot if there ever was one for such a false beast.
Then there was him...
A few who were once loyal solely to Azmodan flinched with mild hesitation before being reminded that he was gone. With the High Heavens burning at that very moment The Tinker wasn't of any interest or concern to any one or any thing any longer. Besides, how many of them still had reminders of his little trinkets painfully reminding them of their failed attempts to appease the Lord of Sin after so many centuries? Or were scarred by his weapons despite him seldom being seen on the battlefield itself? How many of their own were slain without having even seen the angel encampments? How many bones had decorated the base of the both fortress' walls and whatever stronghold this gnat personally overseen in its construction? They would have to take extra care to keep him alive as they finally paid him back for each and every vendetta he had accrued...
XVX
I knew it was simply a matter of time before they broke into this room. Judging from the stream I'm afraid my unit was slaughtered by the demons as I had feared. Then again given the siege it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that the demons were reinforcements from other invasion points, not that it was a comfort by any means...
Between their numbers and raw durability the fuckers stormed into the room despite the now countless dead that I had certainly hoped would've at least tripped them up. But no. As usual they were too ruthless to even be bothered by their dead kin in the pragmatic sense of the word. It was all too easy for them to stamp the dead into paste and gravel. Not even the mines were fazing them, much less dwindling their numbers to a manageable level...
Not even my attempts amounted to much before I spotted the first of my once comrades gunning straight toward me... his scarred and mutated appearance I only made me wish it was another demon instead. Was there even anything left of him beside his ability to fight before the demons decided to unchain him from whatever torment he had endured? O was it worse? That he succumbed to that very torment before everything but a death seeking madness remained, now finding finding the company of his new 'kin' preferable to our own for our failures to rescue him in the end?
... as terrible as it is to think it it was probably for the best if there wasn't anything left within him. As sad and horrific as it was it was easier to put down a murderous corpse that looked like an angel than what used to be a brother in arms who turned on us for his own sake if nothing else; it was a twisted mercy if there ever was one for us all that way. At the very least they sought an escape from what happened to them rather than inflict it upon others by conscious choice.
Regardless, with him barreling straight toward me I could only fire one more barrage for what it was worth before I properly gripped Evos with both hands and struck out. The sickle he had armed himself had no hope and competing with the glaive's reach. He didn't try to dodge in the slightest. Sadly I couldn't give him more than a quick glance as I turned my attention to the others that followed him... malformed angels both bloodthirsty or sinister either shot straight for me or instead moved to ensure I didn't have an escape route. To make matters worse these notions were followed by proper demons. It wouldn't take much to swarm me at this point if I stayed still. Sadly, conversely, I simply didn't have that many options myself.
I didn't need to look to know that the butt end of Evos' form now sprouted a new glaive. I didn't trust my life to my beloved pet project for who knows how long without reason after all. Even if there was a malfunction, which I sincerely hoped not if such an event occurred, there was nothing to it but to dive head on given its inevitability. With a stab and a subsequent twirling slash two more of my corrupted comrades were finally put to rest as I hurtled to the edge of this impromptu formation where another awaited me. Unlike them however he was armed with a spear. As soon as I drew close enough he thrust the weapon at me... to be honest I was kind of insulted by it. For whatever bloodthirst he would doubtlessly possess at this point he was just too predictable. The blade and shaft was easy enough to be dodged despite literally hurtling toward him. In fact with the his hands were devoted slowly to the spear it was all too easy to run him through with a thrust of my own and promptly discarded to land in the... fray below.
As risky as it was I spared a glance to down below as I flew toward the sentinel. The firing line was simply overwhelmed... What angels that had any sense of self preservation had taken to the air like myself and like myself they were unfortunately challenged by our fallen brethren as well as their demonic allies. Worse yet any advantages we had now was matched by our mutilated counterparts who still clung to what was left of their original attributes. Despite it all however we fought on however even when it was inevitable that we'd all fall one by one from the sheer numbers alone...
Case and point being the sentinel's plight.
One good hit would be enough to undo my haphazard repairs on the sentinel's harmonic battery which was partially exposed by that damnable gap in what's left of its shoulder, it didn't matter from who or what. Thankfully the demons didn't seem to realize that just yet. Instead they were idiotically hacking away at the already weakened structure most relevant to its sword bearing hand even as the sentinel automatically whacked at them with its free hand. Sadly no matter how many it succeeded in crushing the demons were drawn to its wound like flies...
While it wasn't ideal in the slightest, my allies and myself were cut off from each other. Even though the seemingly endless waves were finally abating from the door, the most we could do now was stand back to back with whatever ally we could reach now. As such I flew to the sentinel's gaping wound to defend it even as it continued to swat away at its attackers. Thankfully with their attention rightfully on my behemoth construct, leaving only those that were pursuing me specifically as my challenge in not only reaching its ruined shoulder but landing upon it as well. Thankfully I was unmolested on the first part.
Due to my haste in reaching the sentinel my purchase on its scarred joint I ended up skidding and stumbling a few steps before swinging around with Evos at the ready. Barely a moment later I had to bring up Evos' shaft to block an overhead chop of a greatsword. In that same moment without thinking I kicked out at the chest of the fallen that just attacked me just before his charge brought his body crashing into mine. Yet due to the momentum of his lunge we both ended up staggering back from one another. Yet unlike me he didn't have the advantage of even ground to recover upon. In the half moment it took for him to recover his senses enough to spread his wings to grant him flight I lunged forth myself with a strike to the heart. Between the blade spearing his chest, the shock of the hilt ramming into it, the fallen's faceless head looked to it before looking to me as if the sheer notion of his death was impossible to comprehend. Perhaps it was in a way; I, my comrades and probably this fallen angel had indeed survived worse... Demons had unfortunately survived worse as well from both our hands and their own kin's. Decapitations would always remain an indisputable means of death for both sides however.
As the fallen's headless corpse dropped to the massacre below I was forced to take a step back and swing my polearm to deflect an oncoming strike from another polearm no less that was attempting to skewer me much like I done his own comrade just seconds before. Before I could respond in kind though I ended up deflecting another strike from another foe, a demon this time, who attempted to ram me at the same time. I barely was able to dogde it before I had to block a third strike and a fourth, from a third attacker and the first respectively as more and more of the damned host swarmed to me. Before I truly realized it my ability to evade was almost nonexistent... My ability to block, limited. Claws, blades, flames, curses... my armor could only block and divert so much before they became too scarred and cracked to offer any more protection. Even so I knew the only reason I hadn't been literally torn apart by now was that, united as they were under these circumstances, demons as a whole are and forever will be a divisive lot. As much as they wanted to rip and tear into me they were shoving into one another other to carve out a larger slice for themselves, throwing off each other aim or blocking them altogether. Even the ones in the back were trying to drag the ones in the front away in order to have a chance, none of whom were willing to share. Hell, if I waited just a bit longer I might get lucky and they'll brawl with one another, again!
But I didn't have time.
For all of their efforts to keep me pinned even as they snapped and snarled at one another they seemed to have forgotten my one avenue to escape, the gaping hole straight above this mob. Worse yet, for them, they forgotten what it was they were standing on, and their negligence was coming down on them like a vengeful stone and metal bolt!
With a war cry erupting from my once lips my wings' tendrils lashed out in all directions to strike at my attackers. With the immediate circle stunned I jumped and immediately flew—
"YOU'RE NOT LEAVING!"
NO! NO-NO-NO-NO-AXE-AXE-AXE-AXE—
"GAHAAAHH!"
SMACK!
DAMN IT! FUCKING DAMN IT! DESPERATE BUT BY ALL THAT IS HOLY, DAMN IT!
"... grrrnhhh!"
... just keep flying. Keep. Flying! You can regrow a new arm just like before! Just be glad you have one hand and Evos still—
"Go~t Yo~u!"
"GAAH!"
SMASH!
The world may be spinning, my self inflicting wound blinding me to compound that, but I knew my surroundings well enough to at least take a VENGEFUL SWING AT THE FUC-!
CLANG!
SON OF A BITCH!
SKWISH!
"GAAAAAAAH!"
Through the pain I could hear that demented giggle from the fallen literally standing over me. "Oh Jack, Jack, Jack! Do you remember me? Do you? Do you?"
Probably not and all the thankful for it—KRCH! "GHAAAAH!"—DON'T TWIST IT YOU DEMONICALLY WARPED BITCH!
"I think I finally understand it now! I think I understand what it is that made you so odd!"
KEERN! "Hrnnn!"
"It's intoxicating, isn't it? This free will as you called it..."
Oh fuck you—KRN!—"SADISTIC BITCH IS WHAT YOU HAVE!"
"And It's Wo~nde~rfu~l!" she sang as she kicked my arm away in a fitful attempt to KNOCK HER THE FUCK OFF! Thankfully she wasn't paying attention to my wings. Just a little more...
Oh damn it a crowds gathering around us. One sadist is enough! Go! Go away! Shoo!
"We're going to have fun, so much fu~n!" she cooed above me as her 'face' inched closer and closer to my own.
Had it not been so bright I might of missed the translucent blue light that was almost reflected from her darkened hood. Better yet it drew he attention away from me with a curious "hm?" being hummed. I couldn't help myself from leaping at this opportunity.
The tendrils of my wings lashed out like bludgeoning whips and drove her from me. As she corrected herself in the air energy that had coalesced by my will shot out and ran her through in several places, particularly her head. Even so I immediately wrapped as many tendrils I could spare on the spear that pinned me to the floor and promptly yanked—
"AAAAARGH!"
Clang!
GAH! DAMN IT! GRRRNnnn... sometimes I can't help but damn angel durability! DAMN. Alright. Deep 'breath'. The light... did a portal open? Where'd the crowd go? Turning around I soon found that there was indeed a portal open, but for the life of me I couldn't comprehend it at that moment. Only the Council has access to the Spire's portal system when lockdown protocols were initiated. And was that... Yes. Fighting. The sounds of finding and dying were coming from beyond the portal. As in on the literal other side of the room! Guttural bellows, grunting, war cries... too normal to be demons. Not Angels eith—humans! Humans are in High Heaven? In the Spire no less? How did—
... "heh... Hehheh... HehahahaHAHA!"
It was then my brain rebooted... in your faces you grotesque abominations... IN YOUR FACE,DEMONS! IN YOUR DAMNABLE FACES! FACE THE WRATH OF THE NEPHALAM, JACKASSES! "HAHAHAHAHA!"
KRRRR—KROOM!
Immediately I swirled around, Evos once again forming a glaive, in the direction of the—oh damn.
One of them hit the core at long last... and the sentinel was collapsing straight toward me as golden lightning arced and crackled from the harmonic battery. Even from here I could see the receptacle struggling in its losing battle to contain the concentrated essence of the High Heavens within its shell...
Be it another battlefield or somewhere in Sanctuary, I dove for that portal just as the sentinel's face crashed into the floor, just before the last restraints crumbled away into nothing to unleash a literal wave of holy energy thundered forth, leaving a trail of destruction behind that ultimately cared for no allegiance, not even an angel's. Though I didn't stay to watch I didn't have a measure of doubt knowing it was all but chasing me to the portal even as a storm of holy bolts struck whichever and whatever they fancied. The portal included...
... I noticed too late that the portal's natural blue hue took a more golden orange color as I flew straight into it.
XVX
Great Forest of Jura
Everyone looked up to the blue sky despite their circumstances as a presence made itself known. From his cave a dragon would've raised his own equivalent of an eyebrow as this presence barged into the forest without the courtesy of announcing itself first. But alas, since being sealed all he could do was idly wonder as to what purpose, if any, this being had with the forest or if it simply passing through. From the forest floor goblins would wring their hands in worry, ogres would murmur to themselves and sharpen their weapons as a precaution and the lizardmen would similarly become more guarded as they tried to calm themselves from the alarm that was this sudden appearance of an as yet seen being whose mere presence was shockingly on par with their slumbering god in the cave. As for the dryads within their grove they could only frown in concern and puzzlement as an severely injured armored knight with glowing wing-like tendrils sprouting from his back gracelessly landed as an almost boneless heap on the forest floor after a short and awkward fall from the tree line. From his injuries they couldn't begrudge him some rest in order to recover... but only time would tell as to what his mere presence would result in if he stayed far too long.
As for this 'knight', all he could do was push himself to his feet, awkwardly dust himself off with one arm before quickly shuffling off to the protection of the trees. All the while his head was swiveling to and fro, though it was unclear if he was taking stock of his situation or if he was looking for enemies out for his blood.
A/N: Yep, a SI. In an AU no less... Yeeeeeep.
I'll be honest, I kind of went in half blind with this one; I admit I never played either Diablo before nor have I read any of the books. An admitted mistake I performed once before with another story. I can only hope to do better this time around.
For all of those who are out for blood for me basically screwing around with Diablo lore, namely adding guns and so on with Mary Sue esque qualities... the most I can say that, as hinted at, he's been around quite awhile and, to be honest, not that keen of fighting fair. As best showcased in Sleeping with the Girls by AdmiralTigerclaw people may not that be keen on playing by the rules if their lives are on the line. (Squints.) Look me in the eye and tell me that if you could you wouldn't make a fuckton of bombs to throw at demons if they were coming after you out of principle's sake. Or blow up their heads with a sniper rifle if you can somehow replicate a sniper rifle. Or use a nuke... preferable from a far distance. Tell me you wouldn't I say!
Anyway... I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
Monkeybandit2, making off with your attention. No refunds.