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GAME OF THRONES - MAIN TITLE
- COMPOSED BY RAMIN DJAWADI
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Chapter 1: Massacre in The Forest
LOCATION: THE CITY OF IMMORA
In the earliest era, during the initial conflict, when the shadows initially grew longer, there stood a man. This man, having been scorched by the remnants of Armageddon, had their soul blistered by the infernal fires of Hell and tainted beyond any hope of redemption. Despite this, they made the conscious decision to embark on a path of perpetual torment. In their insatiable hatred, they found no solace; and with their blood boiling, they scoured the Umbral Plains relentlessly, seeking retribution against the malevolent lords who had wronged them.
They bore witness to countless worlds and realms succumbing to the clutches of these putrid beings, and with their fury unleashed, they waged a holy war against the corrupted souls of the damned. They were unyielding, unbreakable, and incorruptible. Through the sheer might of their wrathful fists, the monstrous creatures inhabiting the nine circles of Hell fell without end, and the blood of the wicked was splattered upon their mind, their body, and their soul.
He triumphed through the passage that preys upon the weak, and impervious in his relentless attack, he traversed between worlds and across time, rescuing countless worlds from unholy annihilation. Despite his name and influence spreading throughout the multiverse like never before, he remained unaware of the extent of his reach, focused solely on banishing all remaining unbroken demons to the void.
He sought retribution in every realm, be it dark or light, fire or ice, at the beginning or the end. Yet, amidst the birth and demise of stars, he discerned the falsehoods and treachery of the Ancient Ones. He struck down all who concealed the truth, meted out punishment to the gods, and shattered the essence of the Father.
Determined to end the eternal war, he stole the essence of the Dark Lord and took it to the False Beginning. He watched, hateful in his gait as the Luminarium resurrected the First, and thus set forth the Beginning of the End. Evil followed the abysmal shadows, and the Dark Lord roused Immora, the Armies of Armageddon standing to challenge all of Creation.
However, the treacherous shade stretched on indefinitely, he stood among them unfettered.
He traversed between worlds and rallied the armies of Argenta, thus commencing the Final War. With determination, he charged through the dust and the realm of death, tearing down the immortal gates of Immora, leaving destruction in his wake. He rampaged towards the heart of the Origin, where the Ancient Gods patiently awaited, and there he issued a challenge to the First; thus began the Final Battle, the End of the End.
Two Titans encountered one another, causing the multiverse to tremble as the immense power of the Primevals was unleashed, sweeping across time and space with devastating force. The strength of their opposing wills propelled them through dimensions, spanning the past, present, and future. Blow after blow, exchanging blood for blood, their battle gradually revealed the truth of the Ultimate Betrayal. It became evident that the Dark Lord was the True Creator, and the Father was nothing more than a usurper.
However, despite the circumstances, the armored warrior remained completely composed. The intense battle continued without any signs of abating, and the ultimate clash between two equally powerful forces unfolded. Nevertheless, the time for the decisive outcome of the entire existence drew near. One power triumphed over the other, and as the tremors of war subsided and the flames of disorder were extinguished, he stood at the pinnacle, possessing unrivaled might, unyielding, and invulnerable.
Upon the Ingmore Sanctum of the once revered Jekkad, the two adversaries stood facing each other, the atmosphere tranquil, the battle concluded. The life force, the very essence of Creation itself, flowed from the Dark Lord in an unprecedented manner as he wearily lowered himself to one knee, his body battered and exhausted, his armor in disarray. His ancient hand tightly grasped his sword of universal annihilation, yet there was an undeniable sense of acceptance in his demeanor.
Opposite the Dark Lord, the Destroyer stood, his fists clenched but his composure unbroken, a tempestuous storm of vengeance brewing in his eyes as he glared hatefully at the source of his suffering. The mightiest being, the one who had defied death and ascended from the dust to the cosmos, the Doom Slayer peered through the frigid visor of his impenetrable armor, known as the Praetor Suit, with a serene and righteous fury, the countless ages of torment he had endured flashing through his mind in an instant.
Everything he had lost, everything he had done to get to this point, every last demon he had torn to veritable shreds with his bare hands, every last god he had turned to pools of blood by his will, everything he had sacrificed...everything that he had loved. It all came down to this.
This was it.
All or never.
Slowly, gradually, his gauntlet hands reached for his helmet, gripping the sides of his headgear, and giving it a twist. A slight hiss blew to the side as the pressure seal was broken, and extricated his helmet from his protective covering. For the first time in eons, he flashed his scarred visage to another physical being. One that he despised deeply. He dropped the accessory by the soles of his boots.
He stalked forward.
The Dark Lord breathed heavily, his will to keep fighting siphoned away from the overwhelming strength of his opponent. He raised his weapon, but quickly realized it was deadweight, useless in his hand for what was slowly approaching; for what was inevitable.
"Tell me," he spoke, blood eyes glaring deep into his adversary's. He tossed his mighty sword to the side. "Have you nothing to say to your creator... before you strike him down?"
The Doom Slayer glared back, a scowl forming to his scarred face, lips warped by hatred. He bared his teeth one last time, the arm-blade extending with a harsh screech. The Hell-Walker shot his arm forward and plunged the blade deep into the Dark Lord's chest. Blood and energy spilling forth, and for the first time in countless eons, the armored warrior responded.
"No."
Pulling his arm back, he ripped the blade free. The Dark Lord grunted and his body shook violently; pain flooded his body. The limitless power within him swelled. He tilted his head back and the power of Creation and Destruction raged forth from his orifices, a pillar of infinite energy shooting far into the sky, billowing out as it reached the boundaries of Hell. The Dark Lord fell back, and from his chest rose the First Soul Sphere. Cracked and unstable, it shattered in an intense eruption that spread wide waves of power and influence flowing throughout the multiverse.
In an endless number of dimensions that had been infected by the treacherous demons, the denizens of Hell crumbled. Back in the Sentinel World, man and woman alike cheered the Slayer's banner as the demons that plagued their world turned to ash. On Earth, an imp was about to pounce on a woman and an UAC soldier, but the vile creature vanished in flames. Countless other worlds saw the end of their plight as the demons were erased from the universe.
The Doom Slayer gazed up at the infernal sky, the cold fury in his heart sated for the first time. For eons he had wasted away, slaughtering every last demon he swore to erase out of existence, living for the sole purpose of tearing Hell asunder. Today, he had taken rightful vengeance against the Dark Lord himself, the ultimate source of his pain. His conquest of Jekkad, his quest for revenge was over. The rage within him settled; he felt nothing but an empty void. What was there left for him now that the True Creator, the Father of All was dead?
It is done.
It is finally over.
"..."
The Doom Slayer slowly twitched from side to side as a wave of exhaustion suddenly washed over him, nausea and dizziness overwhelming his senses. His brows furrowed in bewilderment as he fell to his knees, and he gazed down at his gauntlet hands, perplexed. What was happening to him?
"By his hand, all things were made," the Maykr Father's omniscient voice reverberated throughout the Holy Ingmore Sanctum. "... Even you."
Ah, of course, the Slayer thought.
For centuries, his rage was the only thing that had kept him going. Now, without said rage, his body stopped functioning. He was an empty shell that had lost what kept him alive for so long; a husk of a human being.
In his moment of weakness, he fell over, and his world engulfed in darkness. In his last fleeting moment of consciousness, he eyed the Seraphs that stared emotionlessly down at him. One Seraph in the middle raised his hand and the long, stone lid slid over him. Darkness descended from all sides.
The blood red sigil above him, was the one thing illuminating his sarcophagus.
His eyes became heavy and finally let sleep overtake him.
LOCATION: UNKNOWN
The Doom Slayer's eyes shot open. Greeted by the clear blue sky above him. He slowly sat up from the grassy floor, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and staring straight ahead at the forest depths. The Slayer blinked and scanned his surroundings, finding himself in a forest. Trees stretched high into the canopy of clouds above them. Birds flew overhead, singing with their unique songs.
Flowers swayed along the breeze. Bright sunlight beamed through the leaves, the blades of grass danced in the gentle wind. Everything was so peaceful. Peace the Slayer hadn't felt in eons. The last time he experienced such peace, before everything fell apart… Before the demons of Hell destroyed all that he had ever loved. His wife, his son… Daisy. A feeling he could never have again. Now, here in this forest, where life flourished, it was as if no one else existed outside of him.
The sun glinted off of his armor and slowly got up to his feet. He began starting his way through the forest, following the path. Subconsciously, the Slayer ordered his armor to scan for any threat or enemy activity. But nothing came near. Even when he stopped walking, the system remained inactive, still scanning. Still analyzing.
The scan revealed nothing interesting at first, carbon based life, oxygen nitrogen atmosphere, no radio, infrared, or ultrasonic communications detected, etc. Then the Doom Slayer's armor started giving him readouts on the more mystical aspects of his surroundings. There was no trace of any Hell energies, aside from the ones he himself was emitting. No demonic presences anywhere within range of his sensors or his HUD, nor anywhere else within range. Nothing. It was eerily quiet. Almost unsettling.
He continued his journey, scanning for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing. No one. Just nature, birdsong, trees swaying gently with the wind. The Doom Slayer rubbed the temples of his helmet; something is definitely wrong here.
Thoughts began to appear in overdrive.
Why is he awake? Have the demons returned or a new enemy had appeared, one that he hadn't faced before? Why isn't he in his sarcophagus? Who woke him up? Why is he back on earth? The demons are gone, his eternal crusade is over, so… why awake him?
The Doom Slayer proceeded forward through the forest. Eventually, the landscape changed, and now he found himself looking down into a river. The Slayer looked up to see the tops of a large mountain range poking up over the surrounding woods. To his right, the mountains gave way to lush green plains stretching as far as the eye could see.
The Slayer jumped from the precipice and landed near the slithering river. He scanned the shadows for any sign of a phantom, be it animal or man. As expected, the forest remained empty.
"Oi, you there!"
Or so he thought.
The Doom Slayer whipped to his left, seeing from afar a large group. All of them, including their leader, share the same clothing. The group donned long sleeve brown shirts, black pants, furry bear coats, and wielded swords.
The Slayer shifted his gaze to their leader. There was no mistake that he was the Alpha. The Alpha was a muscular white man who had a wide grin, revealing filthy yellow teeth.
"I don't know who you are, but you are not welcome in our turf. So, why don't you do me a solid and piss off!" The Alpha named spoke slowly and deliberately, remaining calm whilst keeping his blistering temper at bay.
The Slayer stood motionless. Not gracing the leader with a response. By his better judgment, they didn't oppose a threat to him, and with that, he turned away, walking along the river.
"Did… Did he just ignore me?" Asked the leader in an unsettling tone under his breath, bawling his hands to a fist. One of his boys jumped in, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Um, Boss? I think we should leave him be." Advised his companion.
"What. Why?" Inquired the leader, turning his head at him.
"I don't know. It's just… I'm getting a very strange aura from that guy, and it's not good." He responded.
Another one behind him chimed in, "He's right, boss."
Then came another one who added in from where he stood next to the leader, "That isn't the worst part! When I first saw him. It… it made me see death. I can almost see it in front of me!" He shivers by his words as the images of his death play in his head.
"That guy, making you losers see death?" The leader scoffed, waving his hand mockingly. "What is a weakling to a strong man like me? Besides, he's nothing more than another trespasser, and you all know the rules. Anyone who dares to step foot into our territory is punishable by death!"
Before his buddies could protest any further, The leader had already started bee-lining towards the Slayer, ignoring all the shouts and warnings.
"Do you hear me, bub? It's time for a no good rat like you to be taught a lesson! This is what happens when you ignore me!" He roared, cocking his fist back, preparing himself for his attack.
Unfortunately, his confidence dwindled short when the Slayer caught it with effortless ease. His buddies watched in silence as the Doom Slayer gripped the throat of their leader tightly. His throat contracted, gasping for air then his world suddenly went spinning. His back was thrown hard to the ground knocking the wind out of him. The Slayer grabs the edges of his head, and with a quick twist, he snaps his head in one-hundred—sixty degrees, leaving his head going limp before collapsing knee first to the ground. The foolish soul didn't even have time to scream.
Turning away from his corpse, the Slayer set his eyes on the group far from him. The three henchmen were stunned, but also in pure fear. This man's strength and speed far exceeded that of ten men. Not only that, but it killed their boss in seconds flat! No one has ever defeated their boss, let alone killed him and lived to tell about it, and he had done it without the slightest hesitation. They wanted to flee and make way for the trees, but fear had glued their feet still to their spots. Those who weren't paralyzed in fear, however, were left with a different feeling:
Rage.
"GET HiM!!"
"KiLL HiM!!!"
The trio's eyes widened at the outburst of their brethren. They tried desperately to stop them, but they all passed them. Making a full charge towards the Slayer while letting out a battle cry.
The Doom Slayer jumped backwards. Reaching for his back, he pulled out a Heavy Rifle, aiming it at his target then pelting three men with micro missiles. Within seconds every missile pierce into his flesh exploded leaving him to pieces.
Another one came at him from behind, but he wasn't quick enough to slash him. The Slayer reflexively rolled his body and kicked his boot to the man's jaw-line, sending him flying. The weapon he carried vanished in a flash, and was replaced with an intimidating crossbow. He slowly aims it at his target then once it has charged to its fullest he takes the shot, firing off a broad horizontal line of energy slicing the enemy in two.
In midair, he anticipated this by using the mobility of his boot thrusters, double jumping for an extra safe landing. With a heavy thud, he lands hard on the man's torso. In a blur, the Doom Slayer reached down and grabbed him by the throat. His throat contracted as his air supply was cut out. The man clawed at the Slayer's arm until the Hell-Walker snapped it effortlessly like a twig, and the man's head went limp, leaving his buddies stunned. He tossed the body away, and jumped to the next one.
Suddenly, four men surrounded the Doom Slayer. The Hell-Walker's weapon vanished, replaced with another weapon. Their eyes widened as they all felt their heart stop at the sight behind them. Beheld in the Slayer's hands was his chaingun. It was big with four long sets of barrels and was the size of his torso. The barrels slowly began to spin. Every second, it spun faster and faster. Once its speed increased, all four of them were struck by a swarm of powerful rounds, turning them into twisted, mangled corpses.
"Got you!" Shouted another man, not particularly fazed by the gruesome death of his four comrades. He swung a spear shaped bone at the Slayer, only to have his hand caught mid-swing and receive a face-full of lead. The headless torso aligned perfectly with the head of another behind him.
The Slayer, focused on aim, fired his double barrel, instantly the man's brain splattered everywhere. A few more charged at him, one tried to throw a punch but got slapped hard to the side, as for the other, the Slayer stopped by kicking the side of his left knee, breaking his leg as he could feel his bones bending. He would have shrieked had the Doom Slayer not silence him with a sickening punch through the poor man's head with practiced ease.
He made a slow turn to his right. His eyes fixed on the injured fellow; had he not blinked, he would've seen the absolutely immense speed from the bringer of death itself as he dashed his way towards him.
"You're gonna pa-"
His words cut-short as he saw the Slayer standing before him, his confidence giving way to an acute fear.
"Wh-Wha…" For once in his life, he was speechless as he beheld the towering figure of the Doom Slayer. His expression once proud, confident, and cocky transformed into pure sorrow and regret. By the work of an instant, the Slayer plunged his fist through the man's chest—pulling back he grasped the heart in hand before crushing it with pure force, whilst watching his body collapse to the floor.
Besides the onlooking trio in the distance, the last man laid on the ground, trembling in horror as the Slayer stalked towards him with his gun in hand.
"W-Wait. Please!" He cried almost in a stutter with its claws in the air. Through his march the Doom Slayer snapped the ejector open, reloading it with another set of shells whilst glaring at him behind his visor.
"W-What if I give you something that'll please you?"
One step.
"S-Something that'll make you so rich, and famous, that you couldn't even imagine?"
Two steps.
"C-C-Can't you understand that? It'll be wonderful! And we could be friends, partners!"
Three steps.
"I, we, you—." His head exploded into a mist by the shells that shot it. Steam billowed out of the twin barrels as the Slayer stood there watching its body slowly collapse to the ground.
All there were left were the trio who're left quaking in fear as the Slayer stood there staring at the lifeless corpse. He continued this for what felt like an hour or two until he rolled his body around, calmly advancing forward through the depths of the forest. Everyone watched in silence as the Doom Slayer proceeded through the woods. Disappearing behind the trees.
His heavy footfalls gave way to silence.
A/N: Welcome new readers, to a new written series revolving our main protagonists: Doom Slayer. In this story, our demon killing machine will be crossovering to everyone's most favorite and hype HBO show - Game Of Thrones. This story I'll be writing is inspired by one story that some of you readers might be familiar with. That said story is called -A Song Of DOOM written byTheDrkknight12 I've read their story and was quite sad that it hadn't got an update in such a very long time. So I decided I'll just write one of my own and see where we will go from there. This will be my take on an alternate universe if Doom Slayer was transported into the world of Westeros. I'll be writing his interactions with all the characters, slow character development, and more.
Hope you enjoy the first chapter! As you all have read, yes, this story takes place after the events in Doom: Eternal - Ancient Gods - Part 2. Some of you might notice the similarities of this chapter's beginning once you first read it; I want to make it clear that I had no intention of copying someone's work, this is just how I wanted this chapter to start off at.
So just to answer a few questions. I plan on doing my own thing when writing this story. I'm not gonna turn this into an exact copy of the Song of Doom. That would just be me disrespecting and insulting the author's work and I don't want that at all. I also plan making this story a balance between not just show but possibly the book as well, I'm not sure yet.
One thing is for sure though, the Doom Slayer's very presence and strength is gonna shake up the world. Speaking of said strength, his body is flooded with power once more, but here's the twist, it's not the Dark Lord's power that was taken from him before he was put back in his tombe by Seraphs. I won't reveal what it is, for it will be talked about in later chapters. With all of that said, I'll be taking my leave. See you in the next chapter.
