Speech = ``…..´´
Thoughts = … ….
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….Fear not the monsters of old, fear not the valiant heroes carrying weapons from ancient times. Fear those who have nothing left to lose, but all to gain...
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He didn't know how much time had passed, it was hard to tell when everything was a blur of fire and blood at every turn...
The screams, the smell of rust...it was everywhere.
Sometimes the reality he was passing through split, folding in and throwing him into mirages of his memories even if he was awake. The pathetic excuses of cultists replaced by demonic entities, the buildings around him nothing more than incandescent ruins
But he was not swayed by this flawed reality as he moved forward.
Not needing to trust his eyes to full fill what needed to be done as he tore from illusion to reality between flashes of fire and gurgling screams of his victims. Their bodies flying through the air, sprays of fresh blood splashing against walls and ground.…
Adding to that with the still roaring rainstorm the ground had become nothing but a flood of red and dirt mess...
He had attacked everywhere and anyone who shared their smell…, like a starving wolf that had made its way into a sheepfold without the shepherd being present to halt him.
Shops, restaurants, libraries…, warehouses and many more locations. None of them were save from his grasp, none should be spared from their punishment. Each kill growing more brutal than the other as each soul added to the rest granted a new and more repugnant set of confirmations of who they were..
They screamed, either in defiance or terror as he lunged at them...but he could barely made heads of it.
There was a simple, though crude beauty to sense the way their bodies broke like twigs than to have to hear them waste their breath.
The way bones splintered before they were sliced with a clean cut, how the vessels ruptured within themselves before the blood pressure pushed their red, sticky liquid out like fountains in slow motion as their eyes that had been dulled widened both in terror and shock as they realized they were to realize their own demise.
Yes, it was rather amusing….but, he was not lost to the hunt.
Ironically he had been faced with a new foe that he had not taken into consideration the moment he started to plunge into the cultists ranks and walk out knee deep in bodies.
A foe that no matter how the chains of his arm wrestled for control and dug deep into his limb he could not fight. He would not fight...
A stampede….
Not of animals, or foul beast made for war and terror…, no.., it was something far more simple and yet so much worse.
Monkeys...
A stampede of hairless, brain dead monkeys that made for the civilian populace of the kingdom, shrieking and running away…
Sometimes it was such their confusion that they were moving in circles, unable to tell where they were going. Falling in a strange loop of disorientation and stupidity….
He had scoffed back then at the unwanted expectable they had showed, annoyed and completely dumbfounded at how pathetic they were behaving.
Was there not any iron within their blood..? Were they so weak and dependant of their saviours that they could not lift a damn finger to either protect what was their and protect their lives?
Even a simple peasant back home would have folded a dozen of this little shits with one finger and their eyes closed while dancing with a ballerina dress…, yet again…, perhaps this world was a lot more peaceful than he had previously imagined.
And so, with a tired sigh and eyes closed to a half lid he was forced to protect them...
A thankless task with how thrilled they appeared to be as they screamed their lungs out when his form appeared and vanished around them, shielding them from either the blades or bullets of the cultist who held no such worries.
Hampering his advance…, but not stopping him.
However, the presence of the innocents who had been in those places and who now thronged the streets in panic served as a stone to push back his more violent impulses.
Like cold water being drop over the overheating molten iron…
….
That was then...
Now...he was here, underground.., lurking around the halls that seemed to stretch out for miles, corridor that appeared ancient breaking into different and more thin pathways or joining into just one way as he moved through it.
He had decided to venture inside this darkness when the amount of souls outside had thinned out to an alarming rate thanks to his efforts.
For a moment he had been worried, not for his own safety though..but rather the idea that he had overdid it, that they would flee and force him to search after them, wasting more time before he could get to look for the source of the darkness.
Luckily, there was no need for panic, it appeared that he had kicked out literally and metaphorically a hornets nest.
They were coming..
The bastards really were coming at him now in their own free will in their hundreds instead of wandering lost like the ones at the surface...
He had not been able to fight down the urge to grin at that.
How nice of them!
He would be sure to grant them a fitting gift in return…, after all, wasn't he but compassionate?
``Fracking kill him! Shoot him! Shoot hiiiiiimmmm…..!!´´
Screeched a cultist, half its face blown off from place when a bullet the size of his fist had pass through him and scratched him in its way to pierce through the chest of two men behind him before exploding violently when it reached its third victim.
The other half was all too human, lined and soaked in sweat, cast in a mortified rictus of rage and existential fear as he bellowed orders to his fellow kin to charge at their foe.
Before and behind him dozens upon dozens of men with robes of lesser rank aimed their rifles and pistols, their barrels whining and heating up more and more as they began to unload for the fourth time their barrage of steel, uncaring of the fact that there were still men between them and their foe and that they would be caught in the cross fire.
His speed increase, only leaving them a second or two left when their weapons started firing and filling the air around him with the sound of flesh and bone being torn from the meek bodies of those who could not dodge and the scent of burnt out powder.
He turn to the left in what many would have considered a narrowly success while he sped up towards the barricade of living bodies that had tried to block his way through the cylindrical, underground halls...
The gunners were nothing if not persistent, either not realizing the futility of the act as they gritted their teeth and tried to follow his movements to the chase, all the while firing. Hoping that even if accuracy was not obtained, quantity would win the match..
Creating lines of fire that were turning everything around that was not made of stone to mince meat…, but neither they or their kin who fell victims to friendly fire seemed to care much about it at this point.
The fear of failure pushing them on..
He scowled at that, annoyance crawling at the back of his mind when he realized that they were more afraid of their masters leash than the sharp edge of his blade. He would remedy that soon enough as his hand lunged forward, piercing through a man's guts and pulling them out while blocking and severing the hand of another who tried to stab him..
He danced between the bullets, even though he knew he could just take them all…., that they would not have enough penetration force to break through his passive defences..
He wanted to make it last a bit longer.
The way to rip out true despair was to at least poison the souls of the defeated with hope, and as small as it was….they believed that perhaps, just perhaps they could shot him down..
``By Lord Fenris, someone-body kill him already!´´
When it appeared that his body was about to be sandwiched between the wall and the hail of bullet borne death that was pursuing he merely ran up the wall as if another surface for a man to commonly walk, all while not slowing down. Prompting shouts of surprise and rage from the men as their guns swept up after him two seconds later….
But they could not track him in time by the time, only having another extra second to spurt out their exclamations of dismay as he descended upon the rows of men like a meteorite of black steel and cloth.
The heads of at least a quarter of those that had made the first line of fire flying clean before he sped through their still crumbling bodies, the rest were stumbling back by the small shock-wave he had unleashed by landing so roughly on the stone ground.
Their superior heft their empty gun and threw it at him, the blocky thing hitting him on the bones of his helmet and breaking into splinters upon contact with it before he tried to pull out a short sword from its shaft, grinning madly at him, willing to be dissected if it meant striking true for at least just once in his life.
He did not felt the same as he unloaded the dual barrels attached to his non psyche wilding arm on his face, cleaving his head off from his shoulders in a mist of gore and bones that sprayed on him, leaving him drenched in arterial red.
He fired for a few more seconds…, the line of fire cutting down through their ranks with the same ease a child would tear through cotton candy. Their bodies exploding as if they were of wet-bags, bone and guts flying out while he slammed the flat side of his psyche to his right.
Sweeping a number of them away from him, breaking their spines.., some landing roughly against the stone walls of the pathway and leaving spiderweb like cracks as they fell, the rest merel crashed like man sized bolts of flesh and robes against those of their own kin.
Some men fired point blank range, while some struck with their blades or the back side of their rifles at him…
He did not dodged, welcoming their futile defiance as the attempts merely bounced off him..
Harmlessly…
Like plunging a sword against the raging waves of the sea...
It was a surprise to be sure as they could feel their weapons cracking or down right breaking under their grasps...sadly, they would not have much time to repeat the process though as an invisible blade cut them in half, sending their bodies spiralling out of control everywhere.
``Urgh!´´
``I don't wanna die, please!´´
``I choose a bad day to come to work...´´
Were the words of some of the unlucky ones, the rest were pushed back with ease, though some of the cultist tried to worm their way out.
Hoping to put some distance between them and his reach...
Either out of fear, or some sense of tactical approach….
It would not matter.
Whatever plan to regroup could have been was cut short, not by his hands...but rather when they were assailed by bulky looking monsters made of rotten flesh and bone.
Things that had been following him in his wake of destruction swept by anyone in their path with no care in the world. Dicing the men into pieces before they could squeeze the triggers one more time.
Biting, scratching or impaling anything that drew breath in their vicinity with sharp skinless digits or rusted weapons that glowed with a scarlet, purple hue under their cold grasp.
Big and ugly, they resembled crudely a human being in their visage if one were to ignore the spikes and empty sockets of their now tampered bodies
They were a few of the many bodies from both the bandits and the cultist he had brought back and commanded to tag along, not with the intention to attack, but clean after him for any stragglers that could remain in this path of blood he was carving through their flesh...
The cultist were determined to stop him though, well trained, vicious and ready to fight to the last man. But none of that saved them…, or even slow him down.
He had been unleashed, and just as he wad doing now...so to were many creatures under his thrall that he had set loose within this corridors and on the outside, doing damage wherever they could.
Seeking to either outright demolish their ranks into dust or cripple them..
The speed of the assault was as utterly overwhelming as it was brutal, with no quarter given, none would have been granted
In his mind, he could hear them…
The voices of this maddened men taking to each other, trying to give orders...becoming exiting faster and faster, like the trembling lights of a few candles that had been pushed to close to the window where the winds of a cold night could play with them and snuff them out.
And then there was-...
NOW..!´´
Roared another hooded servant of the cult with an impressive show of vocal cords when he veered to the right, stumbling into the next intersection of stone halls came into view.
Like the other groups, these men had been waiting for them, lined up, this time a pair of giants in the front, guarding what he suppose were their magic casters by the flow of energy that was starting to light up from them.
Each one holding large, glowing weapons, each one massive in their arms as they struggled to hefted them, aimed and fire their own channelled energy throw the barrels.
…
``This again..?´´
He snarled out loud, though to no one in particular as he saw once more with no small vexation the sharp, burning bolts of magic surge through the air a second or two later from those barrels that were almost threatening to burst in flames and take with them their owners by their poor manufacture.
The magic blast filled all the space between them and him with a stark, red hue as-well as the scent of burnt out silver in which magic was so well known for…
Burning the corridor just by their passage…
Given what he had seem so far from their fire power he could have just move forward and ignore the bolts or move out of the way, fast as they may appear the bolts were even slower than actual bullets.
But he did not...
He instead halted for a second time during all this assault, a clawed hand extended forward.
Almost as if lazily…
And then they closed into a tight fist….
Just as those glowing suns were about to strike him... an invisible wall came into existence between him and them, in which collided with the super heated fire spell.
The bolts smashed into it, splattering all over its surface like an ink stain...
The barrier did not break, it did not even bulge as the air around him shrieked as it was consumed in a few seconds, his eyes protected from the nerve optic damage that the brightness had unleashed as the energy that made out the barrier clashes with the arcane essence of the attack,.
But his intention was not to halt the blow…
No, that would have been too merciful, he instead had other ideas in mind as with the swift move of his wrist he sent back the entire wave.
Much to the horror and awe of anyone who still had the sight to see it.
Melting the still glowing corridor a second time, the sound of the passage cracking apart and allowing part of the outside world to fall down around him was ignored as the chorus of screaming men joined it with sickening fervour.
Some still blind by the whole ordeal scratched their eyes in an empty pursuit to see, gouging them out in the process. Those who could started to turn around to run, throwing their heavy weapons into the ground to move faster.
Their leader however screamed in fury as he fired once, twice, thrice at the rolling wave of energy before being disintegrated by it, leaving not even ashes behind.
None survived…
….
It was not long before he and the rest of his menagerie of beast walked over their smouldering ashes and continued onwards.
Things continuing like this time and time again, with ambushes or choke points being quickly overwhelmed by the unnatural nature of their foes
Were bullets were used, he merely dodged and dance around…sometimes even allowing one or two of the projectiles to reach him, only to feel the way the metal slugs broke apart or bounced back into their shooters.
Were magic was employed he either nullified their attacks before reaching into contact with him by syphoning the particles from the air or he merely created walls which could not be burnt or expended and throwing them back over his attackers like a net of scorching energy.
And the brave who came to fight with steel, he gave them steel….
And though he found pleasure on the act of butchery, he could not help to sigh with a bit of what could only be disappointment.
It was not like he expected them to be unorthodox in their tactics, or have a rich variety of monsters at their disposal rather than just robe clothed lunatics…or even someone capable to make him bleed.
But if the cult of Diabolos had only this to show for their efforts…
Well…
He was not very impressed about it…
Perhaps that was the reason why he was hoping that what he would find at the core of the smell would be worth it.
He was growing closer…, to the point that he could see the threads of energy that had emanated from it and permeated the soil with it.
Invisible to anyone, but those who had the sight and patience to see between the lines of reality.
He extended his arm, a sharp talon scratching the air...slowly, almost shyly as they attempted to catch one of those threads that floated above his heads.
Its purple shade colouring his fingers with a bright, heathy hue that reminded him of days long past.
Memories of summer and not the cold winter that had frozen his soul….
A brush of fresh air of spring, devoid of the metallic taste of blood on his lips...
It felt..
It felt like...
``Down here…! I think I saw something coming from this hallway..´´
``Are you sure?´´
``Do you want to live forever or what..!?´´
Soon enough more voices started to join them as-well as the sound of footsteps and throats huffing as they ran with one goal in mind.
Weak at first but growing stronger as the walls echoed the sound of their presence endlessly towards him…
More meat was coming from his left and right...
He shook his head, noticing that the thread was gone and with it whatever nonsense that had taken hold of him for such brief moment.
He grasped the psyche a little more tighter, anger flaring inside him for even allowing himself to fall back into the longing of something he could never have...
Something that he had believed had buried deep within the depths of this corpse he called body...
``Enough of these childish fantasies and the illusions they bare to mind..´´
He took a step forward, rising his head and looking towards the dim lighted halls that remained before him and his destination. The shape of the order of Diabolos grunts coming to view long before they could spot him.
`` The dead must have their tribute...´´
He took another step, the floor cracking before he dashed like lighting towards the multitude of cultist that were coming down.
His last words almost unable to be heard as the air ruptured around him.
``Always...´´
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A/N
Between 3 to 4 more chapters and this prologue arc will be done so that we can get started with Alpha and company..