Act 1: The World of Armageddon
Mathew was of an older generation of hunters. Not the eldest generation but he was of a generation that came before the likes of Viviane and Lenore - and especially the younglings or acolytes. Those years in service had actually been kind to him; sure, he had his scars - reminders of times in which he'd gotten cocky or was caught off guard, but they weren't decorating his skin like a canvas of tattoos. Still with everything he'd seen in his years, he had gotten the mentality shared between him and other Hunters.
That mentality being that with everything they've gone through - with everything they'd seen- there wasn't really anything left to surprise them.
And he had to admit, this wasn't the experience that told him there were still things out there to surprise him.
The demon in question, the one he'd been ordered to follow and observe - wasn't really a demon at all. At least not in the truest sense of the word. It was human - or rather it used to be. Dozens upon dozens of cadavers just fused together by infernal magics to create this… thing. A construct, a golem made of flesh and bone and blood.
"I swear ours look better." He wasn't wrong, then again to be fair they didn't use the dead to make their constructs; just wood, brick and on occasion steel. They made good training dummies for the acolytes. "Either way." Mathew muttered, still following after this abominable construct from the rooftops. "Where are you going?" He asked, watching the creature just half-walk/half-stumble through the streets before coming to a stop. "Hm?" He made a face, a bit of confusion and annoyance crossing his face as he stared at the thing, only for it to shift to realization as he looked ahead.
"Angels huh?" He muttered, as he saw the winged ones taking to the sky as they charged this infernal construct. "Well little Vi did say that it was the Endwar…" He muttered to himself as he watched the angels try and engage the thing with their weapons; be they those angelic lances and blades or those fabled redemption cannons. Without much prompting, Mathew took a seat deciding to watch the show as he reached for his earpiece and pressed it. "Hunter Base it's Mathew, you hear me?"
[STATIC]
"Can anyone hear me?" He tried again stopping for a moment before making another attempt and found static greeting him. "Damnit, of all the times that -'' Without warning he swung around, ripping a hand cannon from the holster on his waist as he pointed it behind him.
"Good instincts." The figure stated as they smiled, hands staying in their pocket as they did so. "I'd expect nothing less from a hunter." Mathew didn't say anything, just taking in the figures' appearance as he kept his hand cannon pointed forward. Jeans, and an upturned hoodie. Nothing too crazy, perfect for someone in a modern age. Still, the moment they lowered their hood he saw something that didn't belong. Tattoos, or rather markings covered half of their face. He recognized the symbols, demonic etchings that he preferred to not read. "Hello there, good hunter."
"Hello, cultist." Mathew muttered, staring at his counterpart. "I was wondering when one of your lot would show up." He stated. "Where have you been hiding?"
"Here and there." The figure stated as they smiled. "Much like you hunters, I can't really give an honest answer." They admitted
"That's to bad." Mathew lightly made a gesture with his handcannon." Care to explain that though?"
"Ah." The cultist made this noise as he looked at the golem fighting the angels. "Yes that. I'm afraid I can't answer that either, but I assure you that you will find your answer soon enough." The man stated. "Considering you live long enough to see it anyway." The cultist stated. "Still." He glanced at the handgun pointed at him. "Are you just going to keep pointing that thing at me?" They asked. "I'm sure you know the old saying, shoot your shot." The moment the words left him, a bullet left Mathew's weapon as the cultist seemed to move their hand. A moment later though they held out their palm to the Hunter, showing the bullet that had been fired before looking it over himself. "And that was a wasted shot."
"I wouldn't say that." Mathew admitted, lowering his weapon as he returned it to its holster and cracked his knuckles. "Wasn't aiming to kill after all."
Samael made a noise, taking the time to get another drink before casually drinking it while the young hunter stared him down. He didn't mind the gaze, why should he? Here in the depths of Hell, the Hunter was alone, surrounded on all sides by those he had hunted… and despite his skills, there was a painful truth that the young hunter had to accept; here in Hell he was outnumbered, outgunned and out…everything.
"Why the rush?" Samael asked. "Don't want to stay a little longer?" He asked, in this almost mocking tone.
"No, I don't." Noah admitted. "I need to get back and warn the others."
"What good would warning them do?" It was Asmodia's turn to speak as she tossed what looked like a grape in her mouth. "Warning them that the end comes. Shouldn't they already know that, I mean, they've had how long to prepare? Father I seem to have forgotten."
"Centuries my daughter." Samael stated. "Surely they already know what's coming. After all, they have experienced the opening act." Noah didn't say anything for a moment, just narrowing his eyes before taking a breath.
"Stay a bit Noah, take in the sights maybe bring back a souvenir or two for your sisters." Asmodia recommended.
"You want me to stay…" Noah muttered as he crossed his eyes. "Why?"
"Well, you rarely visit." Asmodia stated with this smug smile. "And so much has changed since you were last here. The houndmasters' dogs have a had so many pups, we have new angels captured and waiting to be broken, and there's a couple new forges where we can have some 'toys' made." Asmodia stated as she gave the hunter this playful look.
"I see…" Noah muttered as he realized what Asmodia and Samael wanted. They wanted him to make himself useful. Cause a bit of chaos here in Hell, bring a bit of disorder to the Demon Masters ranks. Maybe… slow down thor production of arms and so on. 'The Lords of hell are always in conflict.' Noah reminded himself. 'The Endwar hasn't changed that.' He told himself. "You wanting me to fuck with Vovin's army."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Samael smirked but nodded his head. "But if your interested…"
"It would buy Humanity some time." Noah muttered. "And that might just be what's needed to survive what's coming." he told himself before scratching his head. "Where can I start looking."
"How bout we start with a tour of Hell." Asmodia stated as she pulled herself from her seat and walked up to the hunter with a sway in her hips. Getting close she wrapped herself around his arm with a sultry smile. "Come my dear hunter, let me show you around."
London
Galahad said nothing, instead just letting her attention focus on what rested before her. This street was… ugly to say the least. The Hellgrowth - the Burn seemed to have set a nest here. Sinewy vines trailing everywhere they could reach, buildings, cars, fire hydrants name it and the Hellgrowth was covering it. It left the grounds smelling vile despite the fires burning here and there across the grounds. Even under her helmet it made her feel sick. Here she saw men and women seemingly at prayer, chanting in a guttural tongue she wished she didn't understand. But what really caught her attention was the 'pool' of burning orange that was before everyone, slowly spreading outwards- clawing at the ground to cover more and more of the world. She turned her gaze to the sky, and saw that the clouds were in sync with the earth, opening up to revealing an identical burning sky. From it she saw things, demons falling from the sky, and likewise she saw them crawling out the pool.
"They're opening Gates to Hell…" Galahad muttered. "That means the true invasion hasn't begun yet…" She told herself. That meant that the Demon Masters were still in hell, gathering their forces. These demons, they were just opportunists, demons who were chomping at the bit to touch Earth, maybe hoping to carve out their own little territories before the Lords of Hell could make an appearance. "This is bad…" Galahad muttered as she reached for her auto-guns. She stopped herself and seemed to think.
Should she charge in, take as many as she could? That wouldn't stop Hell''s advance, but it would buy some time.
Should she run, report her findings to the others? If she did that she could lead them back here, let them know that they had found a gateway to hell, one that needed to be closed before the actual invasion. It would ensure this place was sealed away. Ensure that this piece of earth would not fall to the demons.
"What should I do?" Galahad muttered as she continued to think in her hiding place. "Fight or run?" She asked herself as she closed her eyes and ran through a few scenarios. After a moment she opened her eyes, and made her decision.
