Queen's note: The raw disrespect that the Doom Slayer openly shows not just in a fight, but once he has an Idea… yeah ouch. Also, I'm running away with little facts of cannon again =3!
Garnets
Chapter Seventeen:
War King
The biggest clue that someone was coming was the lack of semi-distant howls. Not the normal cacophony that the man had learned was the standard background of this realm. There were tones of raw fear and then a cover of rage. Not long after things were steadily getting quieter.
A sort of stillness that very few beings could sweep through hell.
Valen had lifted his head as he listened to the distinct lack of sound to his south, and then spread to his east entrance. He frowned, having seen a few purges from upper level demons and 'blessed' but something was more than familiar about this. He stood on the upper section of his so called 'home' and walked toward the stairs near his Altan mech he glanced at the turrets still linked to the AI of his once armor. There was a feed of subtle information by the implant that had once helped Valen pilot the faint mecha.
There was a demonic shriek of protest, the thing being dragged closer to the known dead zone. Quickly followed by the sound of one of his traps being set off. No sound of who did the deed of throwing the demon, not yet.
Valen ran his metallic hand over his head, sighed and picked up one of his hammers, wondering if one of his old platoon had finally made it close to finding his semi safe area. It was not the first time one of his Sentinel brothers made to him, either on their last breaths, being in the ghostly-ethereal Lost forms of a broken soul. Or them being fully Fallen, corrupted by the ages of fighting in Hell with no more protective Wraith energy. Sometimes corrupted by the Maykr themselves.
Something with a very real body kicked the heavy doors of the east. There was no movement near the hidden northern door according to the scanner. Valen stood on the stairs as the turrets tracked over, what was left of his Altan mech controlling them.
All at once, the Altan shifted beside and behind Valen, startling him. His mech had not been able to move much, with seized joints and lake of reserves. Yet the man watched as the massive help lifted and turned with a grinding sound, looking to the main door. The locks released to let the doors open ahead, the traps that Altan controlled all shut down between the doors and its Sentinel.
Valen snapped around as the doors were kicked open, not so hard to damage the thick slabs of metal. He almost dropped his hammer as the new being strided in, trailing footprints of demonic blood, and visible orange trails of energy. The being did stop just after the traps to give himself a good full body shake, getting off the clinging gore on his back and shoulders from the last fight with…
The heavily armored man tossed the decapitated head of a Prowler into the open clearing. One of the turrets was still tracking him as he walked into the camp as if owning it. As if it was his own.
Valen's Altan hummed, and then let out a long, low note that showed its excitement of seeing the once trapped man. The optics flashing as the visor looked up to it, giving the still Altan a salute. The mech twitched as if trying to do the motion back, but unable to, it had to settle to give the deep vibrating humming.
"I thought you were still trapped." Valan said, a part of his guard dropping despite himself. He should keep it up, it had been an unknown amount of time that the Slayer had been trapped and released.
Yet Valan found himself coming down the stairs, a fraction of his heavy chest lightened at seeing his old War King. Brother Sentinel. Friend. His good eye glanced at the Prowler's head as it started to dissolve into the ash, grateful he did not have to deal with another round of that kind of annoyance.
Valen glanced up in time to see something being thrown at him. Catching it as the Slayer walked past to hum back up at the Altan in that odd way of his. Proving it was the War King to Valen as he examined what had been given.
He sucked in his breath, realizing he was holding a living green thing. "...What riches have you brought, brother?"
The Slayer turned to look back at Valen. Lifting his hands as if grasping something and then mimed snapping it in half.
Valen looked down, and as told he broke the green thing in half. Soft, pale plantlife flesh greeted the Argenta man, and he took a deep breath of the first scent not from hell. It was almost impossibly light, almost like a melon but without the sweetness. A slight, but clean, earthy and watery mixed scent that had Valen going very still.
He closed his eyes for a moment, as some memories came flooding back. As they do when tied to scents and smells. He looked up, half seeing the Slayer walking over to the forage area. While it seemed like behind his blind eye, Valen could vividly see the memory of sitting on the edge of a Wintherin's nest, the one that belonged to his late wife, while watching their son fall in against the thick shelled eggs. Only to be groomed by the broody Wintherin.
Valen gave a small smile at the odd but welcomed gift. Taking a careful bite of the unknown fruit. It was just as light, watery and clean tasting as it smells.
"So, the Unchained Predator is free again, and once more walking between worlds." Valen turned to look behind him, not that surprised to see the Slayer examining the newst blades and framework of the projects spread out. At seeing a dark gray and black hilt being picked up, the old commander added. "It's a dead Cursible, not unlike your old one. I found it in the Howling Canyons before the new Gorgon hatched."
The Slayer paused at that, what part of the last statement drew his attention, Valen was not sure as he slowly ate the offering. Taking time enough to savor but not so long to let the fruit spoil in Hell's air.
The living nightmare of hell tossed the crucible up and caught in, testing the feel and weight of the hilt. It was not overly ornate, no added bones or decorations as Valen had stripped it to the core hilt. Of course the Slayer would like it thumbing the serrated 'S' curving guard that was the only flare now.
"I haven't been able to get to the core of it," Valen said, coming over, finishing his gift, "Being completely drained it would take someone with primordial energy to open it before a new core could be put in."
Valen could see the head tilt, and was just able to see an arch eyebrow under the visor.
The sentinel motioned to the crucible, "You want it? I can't fix it if I can't open it."
There was a cuffing like sound, and Valen was almost startled to hear an almost forgotten sound of the Slayer chuckling. Valen watched the altered human give a shake of his shoulders, Almost relaxing before there was a viable crawl of energy over his back, then going down his arms. It was a red and orange mix, with wisps of silver wraith energy woven in. The Slayer looked down at the dead crucible hilt, twisting the ends in opposite directions.
The shell of the dead hilt almost fell apart, but in three pieces. As if the Slayer had done this before, he was pulling the center price apart into an oddly extended state. Like more of the inner workings had been compacted into the hilt then it should. Either just enough power to access the subspace of the crucible hilt, or it was feeding off the Slayer's own energy to do so.
Valen came over as it was put down on the nearest worktable. Using his metal hand to pick out the cracked dull crystal. It crackled and startled to dissolve into fine sand that Valan was just able to get into a jar.
"Thought so, it was a gorgon heart that made up its core power." Valan sealed the jar and showed the other the glittering sand. "Considering where I found it, that makes sense. Unless you have another, or a crystallized heart of an ancient titan…"
The Demigod shifted, tilting his head before signing a question. Rock heart?
"Some demons like the gorgons have a crystal heart, at least heart shaped inside of it. It can be manipulated into other shapes once they're dead, and if you get it in time." Valen explained what he had learned, both from that one young 'Blessed' that lingered around his camp, as well as the old ruins Valen found across hell. "That's what was used to make the crucible blades in the first place. Or the hilts to conduct energy."
The Slayer looked down, prodding the inner workings of the hilt in question, thinking clearly. Want it.
Valen snorted and mentioned in the general direction of the Howling Canyons, "Find the newly hatched Gorgon, I'm sure you can get her heart and I can-"
He cut himself off, startled as the former king dug his right hand into the Slayer's own subspace like space, pulling out a sphere that was small. Small enough to fit in his palm and fingers almost wrap around it. It was glowing from within, shedding off wisps of energy from the blue sea glass-like and frosted crystal.
"How do you have a gorgon's heart already?!" Valen demanded in disbelief, holding his hands out around the one holding the sphere. Not sure if it was to take or just to try and protect the valuable thing. The Agenta man could feel the static of energy, surprisingly young energy that was bleeding off of the heart. "Just sitting in your deep-space? Really?!"
The Demigod gave an amused sound, using his free hand to sign. I found, when getting the flower.
The what now?
"You just…found it." Valan started, as the Slayer turned his hand to let the forger take the sphere. The once commander carefully cradled the heart, looking at it, he could tell there was very little corruption from the original demon. Seed of a demon? Whoever it came from had not formed more than the heart, possibly did not even change into a full gorgon body and hatch into hell.
It left what was left of the soul a ball of raw, but oddly calm well of power. It would be ideal for a new core of a crucible.
Valen looked at the empty working of the crucible, he took a deep breath, reaching for tools in his own deep-space for his tools. Pausing as the Slayer reached out to rap his knuckles against Valen's arm for attention.
Once looking up, Valen saw the signed question.
Do not crack it.
"That would be counterproductive," Valen shook his head, not sure why that was an order or the odd moment of concern. He was starting to shape the sphere as the small thought reared up in the back of Valen's mind. Did the Slayer know who this had been?
That was an interesting thought, and Valen wondered what this possible man had done to get his old king's attention. At least enough to take the crystal heart without knowing anything about it. Valen tapped the hilt working, the tool he held helping the young gorgon heart to shift shape. The heart was seemingly quiet willing to alter shape willingly, and settled into the crucible that closed around it once cleaned.
"Use that same primordial energy to seal it." Valen offered the nearly sealed crucible hilt to the Slayer. Pointing to two spots, "Focus on these two points."
The Demigod took the hilt, that orange-red energy crackling over his hands as he put the three pieces together. It pulsed in his hands, much like a heartbeat but at a slower rate as the whole thing was starting to crack with energy. Not wraith nor Hell energy, but had edges of both.
The Slayer's gripped the bare hilt tightened, watching as intently as Valan as the new crucible hummed a charge before the blade leapt up into existence. It was long, not the largest of crucible blades, only about two thirds the size of the one the Slayer used on Argent D'Nur. No prongs at the end, it was straight on one side, curved on the other with two spikes like fangs on the bottom edge of the blade.
The blade itself was an opalescent blue, with flashes of silver, teal and green. No glyphs were on the blade, unlike older crucibles. There was a flare of silvery wraith like energy on the hilt as it the semi living crucible burned the Slayer's emblem into itself.
Valen gave a short laugh, admiring the new crucible just as much as the Slayer. "Looks like it likes you. Was it one of your old Sentinels?"
The Slayer shook his head, turning the blade over to run his free hand on the glittering blade. It should have cut his hand open with how it was gripped, but the crucible proved to be loyal. Valen doubted he would be so lucky as the blade was retracted and attached to the other's right thigh.
Brother. The Slayer signed, and seemed to consider how to word what he wanted to say. Brother in arms. What I was before hell.
"It was once a human?" Valen seemed surprised, glancing at the crucible hilt. Then up as his Altan hummed a warning, before the turrets swiveled up and to the north west. Each one firing at the bulbous demons that attempted to attack the strong hold. Both men watched almost impassively as the interruption was dealt with, and the half dozen cacodemons splattered a good distance away.
"Annoyances. Likely newly formed." Valen snorted, shaking his head before turning back to the other beside him. Noting how the Slayer was staring at the old Altan again, in that never ending fascination with the mecha. "Where are you going now Slayer?"
That familiar title had the Demigod shaking himself back to the present. Not for the first time Valen wondered if he could hear the Altan's language without an implant.
…did the human ever get that implant?
Need help. The Slayer signed.
Valen could not help but snort at that, reaching out to tap a gauntlet and motion to the new crucible hilt, "The Scourge of Hell War King needs help? I can see you have kept up your armor, and improved sections. You have always had a gift of understanding weapons of all kinds. What help could you need from me?"
The Slayer signed something, but it was a human term, paused and tried again as he looked away from the Altan fully to make a firmer gesture. You come with. Small flower needs protection.
"That's the second time you used that world," Valen frowned, and then shook his head, "You know I can't leave hell. As much as it's my penance, I can't leave anymore."
The Argenta man ran his flesh hand over his head, feeling the scars on his face pulling for a moment. Before looking back to meet the faint blue-green glow of eyes under the visor.
"The wrath gift is not completely gone," Valen added, motioning to his chest, "So I will still be here, killing demons, trying to atone, but I will not become Lost like some of the Sentinels."
Wolf. The Slayer asked, or demanded.
Valen gave a soft whistle, and two phantom-like and emerald colored wolves came out of their soul gems hidden in his armor. The once big creatures shook themselves at finding now fight at hand, and then Ria', the once female wolf trotted right over to the Slayer like she did in life. The slight tension in broad shoulders eased as there was no signs of demonic influence in the wolves. A large hand reached for the ghost of the female wolf first, and Valon smiled as the image of his ever loyal companion started to look like her old furred self. Before she died in fire.
"Ria' remembers you still, so does Da'k," Valan chuckled as both his ghostly wolves demanded attention from who they used to know in life.
The Slayer always seemed to have an affinity for animals, despite his aggression and power to demons and once Argenta. Most never hesitated to come close, even the Wintherin.
Still need you. The Slayer signed from where he knelt to scratch at the wolf necks. Looking up he pointed up, not at anyone thing but the meaning out of hell.
"I can try and help from here," Valen shook his head, reaching out to rub the healed image of one of his wolves. Da'k was yawning before dispersing and returning to his soul gem. Ria' was resting her head on a big hand, her softer spectral form fading before also dissolving to return to the gem. "But I can not leave."
Valen glanced up as his Altan made a sound as it sank a little more in the pool of almost lava.
Valen's own impressive reflexes did not save him in time, as his guard was down with the trust of the calm Slayer. He was aware of the sudden movement, and after a long few moments (minutes?) Valen realized he was on the ground. There was a buzzing that was the Altan's equivalent of laughing as the Demigod was coming over.
Valen twitched, still stunned by the sudden hit to the back of his neck. Controlled enough not to crack or shatter bones, but would still leave a mark. There was no firing of turrets, meaning the Alten was aware of what was about to happen. Or it was still that loyal to their former king.
There was a sense of the power, the Slayer kneeling down and flexing his right hand. A more orange-silver energy crackling down his arm before pressing it to Valen's back and letting it flood down. The Argenta man grunted as his body jerked and spassemed on its own before going limp as the word started to darken.
Of all things to end him.
Stubbornness that was not his own.