The mighty Atlan was a weapon of metal and magic designed by the Sentinels of Argenta to combat Titans, beings with the might to wipe entire planets of species. Few in the supernatural world knew of the Atlans, and even fewer knew where they came from and what their true purpose was. Zekram Bael, however, was one of the few who knew of their might. After all, he was there during the Invasion, and he personally witnessed the marvels of Sentinel technology.

When the time of the demons was at its zenith, and Earth and the Underworld and all of the mirror dimensions were torn asunder, a young Zekram had been cast to the dirt, too weak to defend himself from the demonic onslaught. What saved him from eternal damnation was the Doom Slayer, a man who tore through the horde with the ease that a man crushes an ant.

Even at his darkest hour, Zekram studied his oblivious savior, admiring his strength, but also the devices that he carried. Weapons of such advanced technology that they could tear through demons with ease—Zekram knew that such technology would be the key to superiority in the supernatural world.

Unfortunately, Zekram never got the chance to study it, for the Doom Slayer had left the planet shortly after the invasion. For the next three-thousand years, the Slayer's technology would linger in Zekram's thoughts, even as he became the first clan head and created the House of Bael. He thought they would be lost forever, but then, from seemingly nowhere, the Slayer's Relics appeared, sparking the Great War.

It was a surprise to be sure, especially for Zekram. Like everyone else, he participated in the war for power, but unlike others, he sought not the Relics, but something he believed to be far more potent: the Doom Slayer's Atlan—Sentinel technology. The Relics were ephemeral—there was only one of each, and they came and went with the rise and fall of civilizations. Sentinel technology, however, could be reverse engineered and perpetuated, allowing the devils to soar above the other factions forever.

Excited by this prospect, Zekram searched and searched for three-hundred years, but by the time the war was at its end, he had found nothing. Disappointed, he gave up on his search, setting a few teams on the backburner and focusing on running and maintaining devil society.

Then, a millennia-and-a-half later, just two-hundred years ago, things changed.

A small team of scientists that had been studying ancient demonic runes happened upon a cave beneath the Adrian Naberius Superbasin. It was there where they found the metal titan, offline and settled on one knee.

When Zekram received word of its existence, he secured it in flash, veiling it from the public so that its existence may not be leaked to the other factions. Then, he and his most trusted scientists got to work.

And thus came a golden age of technology for the devils. In the late 1800s, just after the human world's United States of America had finished its Civil War, Zekram fathered the Red Army, and with it, devil-kind became the most technologically advanced of the three factions, and the House of Bael became the strongest, most influential throughout the Underworld. No longer was modern technology obsolete to magic. Now, it existed alongside it.

But Zekram knew—this was not it.

Despite his successes, Zekram knew that the seemingly limitless potential of Sentinel technology had not yet been fully realized. There was something missing, some integral part of it all that he couldn't quite grasp. For decades he studied and researched, tried to dismantle the Atlan into its individual components, but the machine had entered a locked state, and any attempt to take it apart would likely end up destroying it.

Zekram was frustrated, but there was nothing he could do. Not until he returned.

When Zekram felt that overbearing wave of rage and power, he knew exactly who had returned. Naturally, he was unnerved, but five days after the incident, he discovered that the Atlan, which had lain dormant since the Invasion, had come online. By some unknown means, the Slayer's arrival had activated the Atlan.

That was when Zekram discovered a presence within the machine—an intelligence of some sort that had full control of its faculties. A presence that centered itself around something within the Atlan, trying to guard it. And then Zekram knew, the thing that the intelligence was guarding—this was what he was looking for.

Energy—a core at the center of the machine with energy superior to anything Zekram had ever seen before, energy so brilliant in its majesty that it broke all known laws of physics and magic, energy so powerful that it made everything else look like a joke. A sacred energy found only in ancient texts left behind by the demons and their iconography: Argent Energy, an energy so energetic and hot that it could produce temperatures beyond one-point-four-two decillion degrees celsius—absolute hot, the hottest possible theoretical temperature before physics breaks down. Energy so potent that it could heal any wound, grant true immortality, and give infinite power to those worthy of it—turn the weakest man into the strongest god. Energy so mythical that its laws superseded that of all else—as if the creator of everything deemed it be so.

Here now, five days after the Slayer's arrival, Zekram stood on one of the high catwalks in the gargantuan, underground, adamantium-lined warehouse in which the Atlan was guarded. His arms were crossed, his foot tapping thoughtfully. Impatiently. Frustratedly. When Zekram first discovered the Argent Core, he set his scientists on extracting it from the Atlan immediately. It had already been twenty-four hours since the discovery, but thus far, all attempts to remove the core had failed.

The devil stared at the titanic Atlan. A dozen scientists stood near the Atlan or hovered up to it with their wings unfolded as they analyzed the structure. Twice that number stood on balconies, catwalks, and platforms as they utilized equipment, conversed, and studied data, searching for a clue with both machines and magic.

Today, Zekram had left the majority of political matters to a number of advisors and his son, the current Lord Bael. There was no doubt in his mind that they could handle managing the Great King Faction and its affairs for at least one day—because Zekram made up his mind. If the scientists couldn't extract the core by the end of the day, then Zekram would destroy the Atlan and extract the core from its remains.

The devil's keen senses told him that someone was approaching him. He turned and regarded one of the many scientists.

"My Lord, I believe we've found something."

Zekram ignored the reverence with which the scientist approached. "What is it?"

"You might not like this, but I'm certain that it is the presence in the machine that is stopping us from extracting the core."

Zekram's brow lowered. "Have you determined what it is?"

"No, my Lord. However, we've noticed that it has been attempting to communicate with us through speech." The scientist gestured animatedly.

"It can speak?"

"Yes, my Lord, though, unfortunately, it is unable to convey anything beyond garbled nonsense. The only comprehensible word that it has spoken thus far is: Mars."

Zekram made a face. "Mars?"

The planet? Or the God of War?

"Yes, my Lord. We are uncertain of what it means."

Zekram thought for a moment. He considered preserving the presence, but then he noted that the presence didn't really do anything for him. Coldly, he set his gaze on the Atlan. "... If it stands in your way, I want you to purge it from the machine. Clearly, it is of no use to us. The only thing I want is the core."

"Yes, my Lord." The scientist bowed, then returned to his work as Zekram scoffed.

He may be a prideful devil, but Zekram recognized that these scientists were the best there were, and reprimanding them for such slow progress would be pointless. That being said, he needed the Argent Core as soon as possible.

Zekram had been keeping track of current affairs, and when he saw that the Doom Slayer had arrived in Lilith, his worries had returned. The Doom Slayer may have saved the supernatural world many millennia ago, but from what Zekram understood, the man was not charitable; he was an enigma whose goals and motivations were unknown, and simply forgetting that would be moronic—something that the current Great Satans seemed not to understand. Zekram didn't know what prompted them to take a liking to the Slayer, but whatever it was, it only made Zekram's job harder.

The Slayer had already come face-to-face with the Red Army, and since their designs were so similar to his own, Zekram was sure that the Slayer had an idea about what was happening. If the Slayer found out that Zekram had the Atlan, well, he was sure it wouldn't be pretty.

Zekram would be the first to admit, he held respect for the Doom Slayer, but that's because he is the only one who'd seen what the Slayer could do. Above all, the Slayer was a liability—a threat to devil society that had yet to be neutralized.

It was why Zekram needed the core now more than ever. The only way Zekram could see himself or anybody putting a leash on that man was through Argent Energy—the most powerful, primordial essence ever discovered. It was insurance.

A familiar energy pulled at Zekram's senses—communication magic from his son, the current Lord of the house Bael. He answered the call, and the red sigil of Bael spun by his ear. "Son?"

"Father." There was a certain gravity in his son's voice that grabbed Zekram's attention, and he frowned, leaning forward slightly. "Have you seen the news? Or watched the Rating Game?"

"No, I thought I told you I'd be busy today." He paused. "Is something wrong?"

"We've got a problem." Zekram's expression soured at that, but he stayed silent. "It's Bedeze Abaddon, the one we've sponsored. Really…. there's no way I can sugarcoat this."

Zekram sighed. Best get it out of the way. "What is it?"

"Abaddon used a Relic on live television."

Zekram froze. His eyes flitted to the ground, then slowly settled on the head of the Atlan. It took him a moment to understand what his son had just said. "… What?"

"You didn't misunderstand me. Bedeze Abaddon used a Relic—no, a Super-Heavy Relic on live television! We don't know how he obtained it, but he certainly put us in a bad position. His actions caused the destruction of the Grand Arena and the deaths of over one-hundred devils! Can you believe that? I'm already getting calls coming in from all across the Underworld." There was a frustrated breath. "The press is firing on all cylinders. We're going to take a hit, and if nothing is done, we may lose major credibility."

Zekram nodded slowly, even as his expression slowly darkened. Despite his calm exterior, Zekram was horrified on the inside. Bedeze Abaddon had used a Relic of Doom? Where the fuck had he gotten a RELIC!? Why had he not reported this to the faction!? And why did he have to use it on live television!? That was the worst thing he could have done!

For a moment, Zekram totally forgot about the Atlan. The Bael Clan and Great King Faction were the most powerful, far-reaching organizations in the Underworld, but they were not omnipotent. And now, with this travesty, all other political parties had the ammunition needed to fire at the Great King Faction without repercussions. By Lilith's name, they may even have the other factions on their ass for this! They needed a scapegoat. Namely, Bedeze himself would pay for his misdeeds.

"Where is Abaddon? I want him in chains immediately," Zekram ordered. Anger seeped into his words just barely. Evidently, everyone else in the facility could feel it, because every scientist had paused and turned to stare at him, wary of his visibly agitated Aura of Destruction.

"See, that's the thing father. When Abaddon used the Relic, he was stopped immediately."

Zekram was alarmed. Someone had the power to contend with a Relic? Was it the Satans?

"By who?" He regretted asking immediately after.

"The Doom Slayer, father. Abaddon is dead, and the Relic is presumably in the Slayer's possession."

Zekram went silent. Almost creepily, his aura receded, replaced by an all-encompassing feeling of dread. If there was one thing that was public information in all this mess, it was that Bedeze had been sponsored by the Great King Faction. Something that the Slayer would most definitely discover soon enough. Oh shit.

"Forget our reputation for a moment. I want all defenses at maximum. Raise the Red Army—" His voice steadily grew in volume and urgency. "Prepare the Fleet of the First Sigil. Now."

There was silence for a second, likely from shock. "T-The First Sigil? But… for what?"

"NOW!"

"I… yes father."

The circle disappeared, leaving Zekram to stand miserably. He rested his weary hands on the railing before him, shadows covering his eyes.

The Fleet of the First Sigil, AKA the First Sigil: a private, experimental navy of nearly-space-capable warships developed by Zekram himself in the 1980s. Utilizing Atlan technology, these warships had power that allowed low-class devils with leadership skills and technical ability to level the playing field against immensely powerful beings. Each ship had a dumb AI to guide its systems, and, as it was a facet of the Red Army, the First Sigil worked in tandem with it.

Under Zekram's direct control, the First Sigil only moves under his say-so. It was the one reason why it had never shown up to defend Lilith from the Doom Slayer. To the Bael's, their own territory was far more important.

But how would this fleet compare to the Doom Slayer, the man who'd single-handedly stopped an invasion from an interdimensional universe-consuming army composed of the eternally damned?

Stressed, Zekram raised his head and looked at the many scientists that had stopped their work. When his gaze met theirs, they returned to their work, frightened by his aura. He ignored them.

There was no doubt in his mind that the Slayer would learn about Bedeze's connection to the Great King Faction. The only question was, how long would it take before he came to retrieve it?

Zekram didn't expect to receive an answer so soon. Least of all in the form of angry red sirens.

Communication magic pulled at his senses, and he answered the call.

"Father! I've just been notified that the Red Army and the First Sigil are already engaged! Our territory is under attack!"

It was already far too late.

"By who?" He regretted asking immediately after.

"Oh SHIT! It's the DOOM SLAYER—"

The Slayer crashed through the hull of an A-Class Bael Cruiser, tearing through the armor and energy shielding like it wasn't even there, the impact causing a fiery explosion that tore out the whole bow of the ship, revealing the innards of the ship in a jagged cross-section of destruction, the shockwave expanding in a large vapor ring. The Slayer landed in a hallway, but the moment his boots hit the metal floor, he was gone, sprinting like a rage-addled freight train. The Praetor Suit blipped, and his HUD highlighted his target—the ship's engine.

In moments, he reached the end of the hallway, but instead of turning, he sprinted through the wall. He treated every subsequent obstacle the same way, ripping through walls, large structures, cooling tanks, and power plants without giving so much as a thought to them. He blurred past surprised and terrified devils, as well as unprepared Blood Marines, and before any one of them could so much as think of stopping him, he'd already put his fist through the engine.

Seconds later, the Slayer shot out the other side of the ship just as a large section of it went up in flames. Its infrastructure crumbling, the Cruiser began to fall down into the midst of a massive mountain range, right towards a thick, brush-covered forest that separated two mountains, nothing more than a heaping pile of flaming scrap metal.

The Slayer fell with it, ignoring it—the fight was far from over, and as he gazed ahead, he could see the Red Army and a massive fleet of what appeared to be red Sentinel-esque warships amassing. Pulling ahead of the larger warships were hundreds of small, tank-sized gunships, likely manned by one devil each. Scowling slightly, the Slayer looked down to see a squad of Blood Marines rushing up to fight him—ones that had fled the Cruiser he'd punched through. He decided to meet their charge, VEGA Core rumbling in his ears.

Faster than they could calculate, the Slayer dashed for them, implementing the Praetor Suit's thrusters for downward acceleration, and in the blink of an eye, his boot caved the head of the first Marine. Two others had flanked the first, but before they could turn, the Slayer gripped the one on the left by its gyroscopic gun-arm, then struck its head with such force that its head exploded as its arm was ripped clean off its body. Before the headless Marine could even register that it was dead, the Slayer whipped around and swung its disembodied arm hard enough to cleave through the torso of the other Marine. The Hellwalker dashed away, leaving the remains to fall to the ground.

According to Tiamat, when she attempted to teleport to the Bael Castle, she found that teleportation had been restricted by some force or barrier that encompassed the Bael territory. This led the Slayer and his allies to visit the Baels the old-fashioned way, but on the way, they encountered some hostile devil patrol groups. Of course, that little encounter grew into a skirmish involving stronger devils, then from seemingly nowhere, that massive Cruiser had appeared, prompting the Slayer to take it down. Now, here the Slayer was, falling from the sky as two dozen warships approached from afar. Something told him that the little skirmish he just had was about to evolve into an all-out battle.

Well, it wasn't anything he hadn't dealt with before.

Speaking of Tiamat…

"Nice work on that ship, Master!" The dragon cheered through the Slayer's helmet—somehow, magic communication circles were able to interface with the Praetor Suit's comms. Though they could share thoughts through their familial connection, Tiamat seemed to prefer it this way. "On your left!"

The Chaos Karma Dragon released a mighty roar as she streaked by in her true form, just barely missing the Slayer, the winds displacing him a bit. He watched, slightly annoyed by Tiamat's intentional near miss as her claws raked through a group of Blood Marines that had also fallen from the Cruiser.

To take the Slayer and Diehauser to the Bael territory, Tiamat had assumed her true form. It was the first time the Slayer had seen it since they'd met. He figured he appreciated both her human and dragon forms.

"I've never seen anything like this before. The Bael's have definitely been keeping secrets, but this?" Tiamat said breathlessly. "Master, Diehauser and I will go… test the waters, so to speak. Bael Castle is just beyond this fleet, so we'll have to take care of it before we go in. Somehow I have a feeling that they knew we were coming."

The Slayer only offered her a grunt before twisting into his fall, looking down to adjust his course as he fell through a cloud.

"By Lucifer, what have we gotten ourselves into?" Diehauser asked through the Praetor Suit's comms. "To think that the Bael's had been hiding this kind of technology—I can feel the energy coming off of these ships, and we're so far away!"

"Can't you use your Worthless to take them down easily?" Tiamat inquired.

"No—Worthless only works on things that I understand. This… this is beyond me. It's all new. We'll have to brute force it."

The Slayer hit the ground with force enough to toss leaves into the air, landing just as the flaming Cruiser from before crashed into the forest, spawning a powerful explosion that reached as high as halfway up the adjacent mountains, the shockwave decimating enough trees to create a large, open field of a clearing. He didn't give it any attention, setting his sights on what lay ahead—horrified devils and more Blood Marines that had escaped the Cruiser, now interspersed amongst the trees.

They were all frozen for just a moment, then the devils unfurled their wings and fled in terror as the Blood Marines faced the Slayer, pointing their weapons at him. The Slayer only clenched his fists and glared in response, then he dashed forward, intent on mutilating them.

The Marines replied with violence, firing their magics, a few leaping forward to meet him in the middle. The Slayer didn't give them the chance.

With one trigger pull, the Ballista blasted through three mid-jump Marines, reducing them and a dozen trees lined up behind them to slag. At the same time, a Frag Grenade landed at the feet of two Marines that shot at the Slayer from a distance, and they were blown to bits, the explosion felling a couple of trees along with them. Another Marine hovered in place, its tracking lasers attempting to zero in on the Slayer, but its head snapped back when it was struck by a Sticky Bomb, torn to shreds a moment later. In the span of half a second, ten more Marines were torn to shreds.

"Tiamat, the weapons on that ship are turning." Diehauser warned. The dragon didn't reply. "Tiamat, look out for those smaller gunships… TIAMAT!"

"Relax, Diehauser. You worry too much—" There was the sound of an explosion over the comms, followed by bursts of magic and what sounded like claws tearing through metal.

Then, just as the Slayer finished ripping the Doomblade through seven more Blood Marines, a small gunship crashed atop a pair of Marines, large claw-like lacerations in its sides, its innards smoking. The Marines were quick to recover, tearing the ship apart with their bare limbs before turning to face the Slayer, only to have their heads smashed into the ground by the Hellwalker. A terrified devil jumped out from the wreckage of the ship, then took off.

"See, nothing to worry about—"

"WATCH IT!" A cataclysmic-sounding boom punctuated Diehauser's shout.

The Slayer ignored it. A Blood Marine swung its armblade at him, but he caught it by the wrist, then kicked it in its metal knee with enough strength to crush the appendage. As the Marine keeled over, the Slayer tore off its arm, decapitated it, then threw its armblade with force enough to tear another Marine right in half. Another Marine fired explosive ordinance at the Slayer, but he kicked the decapitated Marine's body into the air, blocking the explosive. When the body was torn apart, the Slayer rushed through its remains, the Meathook spearing through his assailant. The Marine couldn't react as its entire upper-half erupted into chunks of scrap metal, courtesy of the Super Shotgun's Argent shells. Twenty more Blood Marines were obliterated before its remains could touch the ground.

Suddenly, there was a shift in the air, and the Slayer dashed back, just in time for a red blur to crash before him. A Crimson Juggernaut.

The Slayer didn't even allow it to move. Before it even raised its head, the Mobile Turret roared like a dragon, spewing enough metal to shred through the Juggernaut's armor and tear its arms and shoulder cannons away. When the Juggernaut faltered, the Slayer's fist surged forward, glowing white with heat.

The impact of the blow annihilated the machine entirely, the explosion shattering the ground and tearing up Blood Marines, ripping apart trees in a one-hundred meter wave, turning a large facet of the forest into a clearing. The shockwave that followed decimated an even greater area, reaching so high that small, low-altitude gunships were torn apart or damaged severely, thrown around like toys. When the shockwaves dissipated, there was nothing left, save for a number of gunships that fell out of the sky.

Unfeeling, the Slayer continued on, sprinting through the clearing.

"What was that? I felt that from up here," Diehauser worried.

"Don't worry, that was just Master," Tiamat replied. There was a shift in her tone. "Speaking of which—be more careful, Master! That shockwave almost hit me!"

The Slayer resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he glared up through the foliage of the forest, his HUD highlighting the larger warships. There were Corvettes and Frigates, Destroyers and Cruisers, and a massive kilometer-length Battleship and two Carriers. Impressive, what they'd managed to derive from just his Atlan. Daisy forbid that they get ahold of Argent Energy.

From about a kilometer away, Tiamat was approaching them. Then, without warning, the ships began unloading their munitions upon her.

"Whoa!"

In milliseconds, thousands upon thousands of bullets the size of basketballs came flying at her from multiple directions. She was barely able to avoid them, weaving between every shot as Diehauser kept low atop her back. The Slayer noticed that Tiamat was actually putting in effort now—more than he'd ever seen her do. With all of her dodging, she was slowly but surely approaching the ships, but the ships themselves had only employed a percentage of their guns, and said guns were all relatively small, too. Were the ships drawing her into a trap?

The Slayer gave her a mental warning. Thankfully, she acknowledged it.

Still, the dragon continued, and once she was a certain distance from the ships, a ball of blue light began to gather at her maw. The Slayer sensed that there was more to it than meets the eye.

He was proven correct when the sky went white in a bright flash of light. Like divine retribution, a solid beam of blinding white-blue fire and lightning shot from Tiamat's maw, ten times as tall as she was and faster than the eye could perceive. It crashed against one of the largest ships among the fleet—a Battleship. The ship was engulfed in what looked like a blue-colored miniature sun. At that moment, all of the other ships stopped firing, as if watching in anticipation. It was so unexpected, even the Slayer found himself slowing down just a little.

When the dragon finally let up, the beam shrank then died, allowing her to gaze upon her work.

The Slayer could feel her surprise through their connection.

"No way…"

When the light dimmed, the Battleship still hovered, but rather than sustaining any damage, it was perfectly intact. What was most shocking was the massive spherical bubble shield that encompassed the entirety of the ship. The massive red shield that was made out of an array of red and black hexagons.

"The Power of Destruction!?" Diehauser realized.

Tiamat's attack had been parted by the Shield of Destruction, then absorbed and annihilated.

"How is that possible?" Tiamat gasped. "The Power of Destruction is a clan ability—it's not a power that can be infused into machines!"

Suddenly, the shield disappeared, becoming invisible, then the Battleship's guns—its real guns began to turn.

"Tiamat, the ship!"

"Oh crap—!"

A single artillery battery the size of a building boomed, and Tiamat's eyes widened as a shell just as large as her body came flying at her at heart-stopping speeds, covered in a miasma of red. She twisted out of the way at just the right moment, and it skimmed right under her wing. As it blinked past, Diehauser looked back, then he watched as it hit a mountain.

In the next instant, the entire mountain was shaved away, erupting in an explosion of debris that rose to the sky and blocked out the sun, the heat turning a large portion of the matter into lava, the majority of it being erased from existence by the Power of Destruction. In the instant after, the mountain behind it also exploded into a cloud of hot debris. The following shockwave made the ground at the base of the mountains crumble in a wave that was taller than the forest, whittling down any adjacent mountains and causing landslides.

The Slayer's fists clenched as he eyed the wave of destruction approaching him. It was time for him to get back up there. Glaring, he scanned the airspace above him. There were still dozens of gunships flying around, but they were all rushing away from the shockwave. One of them was flying lower than all of the others and was unknowingly approaching the Slayer from behind. He took advantage of it.

The Slayer started running away from the gunship, the Super Shotgun appearing in his hands. He slowed and allowed the gunship to slowly catch up with him, and once it passed over his head, he leapt. The Meathook speared through the underside of the gunship, pulling the Slayer towards it. When the Meathook unlatched, he let the Super Shotgun disappear, digging his fingers into the underside of the ship. In seconds, he threw himself to the top, then tore the cockpit open. A devil looked up in horror, terrified by his aura. The Slayer didn't care. With one hand, he tossed the screaming devil out of the ship and assumed control of it, turning it towards Tiamat.

The dragon tumbled through the air, thrown completely off course as the Battleship's artillery boomed again, another massive miasma-covered shell brushing against her side, burning slightly. Consequently, another two mountains were reduced to nothing, the shockwaves from the first shell and the second shell colliding violently. The Battleship's cannons boomed twice more, and while she could dodge the first shell without too much trouble, the second put her in a tough spot, and she frantically twirled out of the way. As an entire mountain range was erased from existence several dozen miles away, the Battleship seemed to pause for a second, as if those inside were calculating.

"I don't want to see what happens if one of those shells hits us," Diehauser said warily.

Tiamat growled. "Yeah, neither do I!"

Suddenly, a number of unseen hatches burst open, revealing dozens of missile pods. Tiamat wasn't given a break.

Like moths to a flame, a hundred missiles and bursts of magic started chasing Tiamat. She spun, dodging a group of them, then she spat a ball of lightning-fire that canceled out a group of others. She managed to dodge three more groups at once, but then every missile she'd dodged thus far fanned out from their respective groups and began converging on her from all directions.

Cursing silently, she raised her claws, and an array of magic circles formed, shielding her body from the impact. The explosions enveloped her in smoke, obscuring her vision. It was only when the smallest window of smoke cleared that she realized her mistake.

The Battleship's artillery battery pointed right at her, flashing. Her instincts on overdrive, Tiamat dropped her shields and broke the sound barrier to get out of the way. She managed it, but the surprise threw her off, and she faltered. Her eyes widened as another came, and with a twist, she barely dodged a second one by the skin of her teeth. In her panic, she'd made another mistake—she put too much focus on the shells.

From her flank, a hidden missile slammed into her, exploding against her side, faltering her and throwing her into the unavoidable path of a third shell. As another mountain range was reduced to nothing, Tiamat looked up and came face-to-face with a shell clouded in a red miasma—a Shell of Destruction. Her eyes widened.

In the millisecond that she had left to think, she conjured a defensive magic circle an inch away from her head. She barely registered Diehauser sprinting across her back and up to her head, reaching out to touch the shell.

In the millisecond after, they collided.

The Slayer's eyes widened as Tiamat and Diehauser were enveloped in a ball of red fire and black smoke that seemed to encompass his entire field of vision. When the shockwave reached him, it tore through the gunship, reducing it to a barely functional mess of metal, but he didn't notice, his eyes fixated on the spot he last saw Tiamat. He called out to her through the familial connection, but there was no response. He couldn't even feel her presence.

…

…

Slowly, the Slayer's aura began to recede as thoughts of impending Doom began to invade his mind. He saw Earth and Mars, then he saw the desecrated body of a rabbit on a pike, its severed head in his hands. His fingers twitched, then began to curl…

Then, just as the monster within was on the verge snapping, a large portion of the smoke and fire was forcefully cleared, revealing a blue-scaled dragon, her scales scathed and a couple of tears in her wings. The Slayer felt Tiamat's presence, and for the first time in a billion years, some raw emotion that he never thought he'd feel again flooded his body: relief.

"That hit… harder than I thought it would," Tiamat coughed.

"It would've hit a lot harder if I hadn't used Worthless to remove the Power of Destruction." Diehauser added. "Are you alright?"

Tiamat chuckled. "I'm a Dragon King, Diehauser. I can tough out many blows. But… thanks for that. That could have been bad. I didn't realize the Baels had such firepower. Who knows what else they could be hiding."

"Indeed. I understand now that your master's property must really be that potent if—"

"Oh you have got to be kidding me."

As the smoke finally cleared, every ship in the fleet turned their guns towards Tiamat. From the Corvettes and Frigates, manned bunkers rose up from small ports all across the hull and top deck. From the Cruisers and Destroyers, missile pods and magic cannons popped out of hidden hatches and platforms. The Carriers released thousands upon thousands of Blood Marines and Crimson Juggernauts that clouded the sky like a legion of wasps. And at the center of it all, on the underside of the main Battleship, one massive, angry red particle cannon began to glow immensely as it turned.

"Tiamat…" Diehauser urged.

The dragon growled. "Prepare yourself…"

The Slayer's fists clenched hard enough to pop his knuckles.

Not this time.

As the particle cannon grew brighter, the ships' weapons arming themselves, the Red Army closing in, the Slayer moved. Anger and a desire to protect driving him, he leapt with such power that the gunship he stood on vaporized—in fact, the shockwave derived from his leap was so intense, the winds deforested the forest below. A gunship got in his way, but with a glare, he punched through it, turning the devil within it to paste.

Tiamat raised her draconic arms, spawning a much larger shield before her, sweat coalescing on her scales. Diehauser joined her, creating a barrier around them as he eyed the ships warily…

Then the Slayer's aura exploded as the events from before caught up with him. He wouldn't let anything happen. He wouldn't.

As Tiamat and Diehauser felt the storm that was his rage, chills ran down their spines, their fight or flight instincts going haywire. But through it all, Tiamat managed to glean one message from her master. Get behind him.

It was as if time had stopped.

Every ship unleashed hell at the same time. Bullets and bombs, rockets and missiles were ejected by the thousands, and spell after spell flew through the air with deadly precision. Six Shells of Destruction were launched at the same time, each on a trajectory towards the dragon-devil duo, and the Particle Cannon unleashed a Beam of Destruction twenty times taller than Tiamat.

Then the Slayer appeared before the dragon, the BFG-9000 in hand, charged with energy straight from his body, his finger on the trigger.

Three kilometers away, twenty floors beneath Bael Castle, a voice blurted from the Slayer's Atlan: "Warning. The BFG-9000 is firing."

It was as if the laws of reality had been given the middle finger.

A shining, emerald green jewel of Argent Death shot from the muzzle of the BFG, cleaving the Beam of Destruction right in half. Like homing missiles of certain Doom, thousands of tendrils shot from the Argent projectile at light speed, latching onto the countless projectiles in the air, the Red Army, and the ships themselves. Any unfortunate devil that happened to be in a manned bunker or a lone gunship popped like a hot, fleshy balloon, and the Red Army combatants had their servos lock up before they exploded, green lightning crackling all over their remains. In seconds, there were no individuals outside of the ships that were left alive. Then the ships were next.

First, the ships with the weakest shields had their energy shields rupture before they were set aflame, their internal circuits frying. The same happened for the stronger ships not soon after, then eventually, the Battleship's Shield of Destruction, which had been able to completely tank Tiamat's attack, was shattered like untempered glass.

The Argent projectile didn't stop, even when the particle cannon stopped functioning, ceasing its attack. It kept moving, kept destroying anything that so much as appeared on the battlefield, unfortunate plants and animals on the ground below being turned to hot mist. Then the projectile finally met the bow of the Battleship, and there was a flash of white.

Then came the shockwave.

"AGH!"

"What the hell!?"

It lasted a minute at least, maybe longer. But when the light finally died, there was simply nothing left. The Battleship and the two flanking Carriers were gone. All that remained was a flaming graveyard of ships, a fleet of giant metal coffins that began to fall out of the sky towards the glassed earth below it.

The Slayer double-jumped, landing on Tiamat's neck. As the BFG disappeared, his aura receding, he placed a hand atop her head and gave her a gentle headpat. For the first time, Tiamat didn't respond to his affection—affection that he started rather than reciprocated. She was too busy choking on her shock.

Diehauser pointed at the Slayer with a shaky hand. "Y-You… I-I… Wha-What was that!?"

The Slayer didn't answer, softly rubbing Tiamat's scaled scalp. They stayed like that, suspended in the air for a minute, then Tiamat finally shook her head.

"Master… you saved me… Again…" For some reason, the dragon felt tears coming to her eyes. "Thank you…"

The Slayer merely nodded. He turned his head towards Bael Castle. It was time to end this mess.

Zekram stumbled as Bael Castle shook violently. He looked up at the ceiling, as did the scientists in the room. That… was impossible. Bael Castle had over fifty barriers cast over it, each one able to withstand an all-out assault from the Satans themselves.

The devil looked at the Atlan. Did it have something to do with what the presence in the machine had said!? Something about a BFG?

The castle shook again, much more violently this time, and Zekram jumped, unfurling his wings to keep steady. He called for his son, and Lord Bael answered after a moment.

"Boy, what is happening up there?"

Zekram was shocked when he heard his son coughing and wheezing. "Father… h-help me."

"What…?"

"…He is here."

The communication circle went dead, and Zekram felt a chill go down his spine. What just… Did his son…? No.

"Damn it…" he muttered.

The foundation of the building shook again, and this time Zekram knew that whatever just happened occurred only a few floors up. Soon, he could hear what sounded like combat, and music. Heavy metal music.

Without warning, the ceiling burst open, and a green blur shot from the debris, cutting through two catwalks before crashing into the floor. When the green form rose from the smoke, Zekram's eyes widened as his vision was encompassed by the light and weight of a star.

So this was the fabled Doom Slayer. The man who'd stopped the Invasion. Despite the tinge of uncertainty that grew in Zekram's gut, there was also anger. This man had just taken out forty years worth of effort and trashed his castle. While the latter could be easily fixed with magic, the former was a more intricate matter.

As his eyes adjusted to the Slayer's aura, Zekram slowly lowered himself to the ground. The Slayer stared directly at him. In that moment, Zekram's instincts screamed at him, roaring that he would be killed. He kept his ground, defiance in his eyes. He would not let that monster win.

Then, the Slayer began walking forward, his gait as unbreakable as adamantium. It took all of Zekram's efforts not to lash out then and there. His focus narrowed as the Slayer grew closer, and soon, he opened his mouth.

"Welcome, Slayer—"

And he was shoved aside like an offending object, crashing into the ground in a heap of surprise and shame.

The Slayer ignored him, staring up at his prize. Finally, it was back in his good hands. His own Atlan.

The Slayer turned as Tiamat landed next to him. "Master, Diehauser has already begun slandering the Great King Faction and the Bael Clan. After today, everyone will know about their cooperation with Bedeze Abbadon, their development of that fleet of ships, and their use of the King Pieces. We are in good shape."

She gave him a wink and a thumbs-up, and he nodded in return. Idly, he brushed her head with a hand. The dragon laughed. The Slayer decided that he found the sound more pleasant than he did annoying.

Tiamat, beaming, set her sights on his Atlan. "I can teleport it if you'd like, Master."

The Slayer grunted, nodding. He stepped up the machine, then pressed a hand on it.

As he expected, it came online, interfacing with the Praetor Suit and unlocking its joints. What he didn't expect was the voice of a familiar old comrade.

"Hello. I am VEGA. The sentient intelligence assigned to Mars, now companion of the Doom Slayer. After running diagnostics on the active Praetor Suit, it would appear that I have been inactive for approximately three-thousand years."

The Slayer froze, shocked, as did Tiamat squeak in surprise, Zekram's head snapping up from his shameful position.

"It seems that we have much to catch up on, Doom Slayer."

A/N: It has been EIGHT MONTHS. I think… I'm not exactly keeping track. Anyways, this story is NOT dead. It is very much alive, but I have been stuck writing and rewriting this chapter for such a long time that when it finally clicked, I stood up and screamed.

Also, after careful deliberation, I have decided that I'm going to heavily edit/rewrite each chapter to make them less wordy, more readable, and better overall. I will also be filling any plotholes, and at the end of every chapter, I will be adding new codex entries that contextualize the happenings in this version of DxD, also explaining away anything that doesn't seem right… like why Sentinel tech seems so OP here.

I've already added lore about the dragons to the end of chapter one if you haven't seen that.

Also, yes, VEGA is here now. Surprise.

Queue Tiamat's emotional crisis where she wonders if she's being replaced… maybe… not exactly sure yet.

Oh yeah, Tiamat. If you haven't noticed, the Slayer is being nicer to Tiamat overall nearing the end of the chapter. After that little scare, he realizes that yes, he has grown kinda attached to the dragon and doesn't want to see her hurt. End of story. Also, Tiamat looks like Chapayev from Azur Lane.

Anyways, sorry for the wait. With this, future chapters will hopefully not take fucking forever because I'm stupid. I have big plans and I don't want to see them fall short.

Also sorry if this chapter is short. I really wanted to get it out there.

See ya, Sir Yeetus Deletus.