Until It's Done (DOOM/DC Universe SI)
By: Stupid the Ork
A man is turned into the Unchained Predator and taken to the most unlikely world a man with that much firepower and killer instinct could have been sent to.
Status: ongoing
Published: 2021-07-14
Updated: 2023-07-07
Words: 190642
Chapters: 74
Original source: https/forums./threads/951132
Exported with the assistance of
Until It's Done (DOOM/DC Universe SI)
Introduction
It Starts
Cannot Think of a Title
First Meeting
The Aftermath
Investigation
Kitchen Ace and Taking Names
Guests
At Mars' Surface
The Mission
The World's Reaction
Meeting the King of the Seven Seas
Rip...
Finishing the Job
The Aftermath
Discussing with the Man of Steel
Hellblazer I
Hellblazer II
Hellblazer III
Hellblazer IV
Help
Maketes
The Lion and the Wolf I
The Lion and the Wolf II
The Lion and the Wolf III
The Lion, the Wolf and the Slayer
Clash of Titans
The Aftermath
The National Diet
The Blacksmith
The Visit
Solomon Grundy
Born on a Monday
Aftermath and BB
The Boy
The Enemy from Above I
The Enemy from Above II
The Enemy from Above III
Recovery
Some Explaining to Do
Luthor's Fall
Post-action Report
Manors and Magicians
The Ritual
Preparations
Breakout at Striker's Island
Trouble in Tokyo I
Trouble in Tokyo II
Rescuing the Raven
Steadying the Knight
The Raven Awakens
Birth of the League
Talking with Grundy
Thawing a Cold Heart
The death of Two-Face
Pulling the weeds
About Waylon
Killer Croc No More
The Aftermath
The Queen in Exile
Preparations
The Liberation of Tamaran
The Reclamation of Tamaran
The Beast and the Tyrant
The Beast falls
In Darkest Night...
In Brightest Day...
No Evil Shall Escape
Tamaran free
Hubris (I)
The horror
Hubris (II)
Hubris (III)
Hubris (IV)
Hubris (finale)
It Starts
Have you ever wondered who could in a fight between Batman and Doomguy, believing that Bats would win for a plethora of reasons, only to find out that Bruce would end up losing, and badly at that?
Well, I had the courtesy of being the Doomguy, and let me tell you that I was not surprised at all by the outcome when it happened.
Yes, I'm Doom Slayer. No, I don't have any other name, because it would not be important. No, seriously: I did not call me Flynn Taggart, not John Grimm, and not Stan Blazkowicz. I did not even take my previous name, the one I had before R.O.B took me from my universe and chucked me here for his amusement, as my new 'real' name, because I did not need it here.
And with here, I mean DC Comics. However, it was not a universe in particular, being a mishmash of several, especially the DCAU and the Arkham games.
Now, I'm only Doom Slayer, honorary member of the of the Justice League and, if what many people believe is true, the best thing that happened to Earth alongside the printing press, electricity, and Superman himself.
You must be wondering, though, how did I manage to get them them to accept me, very possibly the last kind of 'hero' given that unlike them I was more than willing to end lives, and not as a last resort? And how did I become one of the most famous people in recorded history? Very possibly you have many other questions: did you invariably change the history of the universe by intervening, or even merely existing? Did you fight the hordes of Hell alongside the League?
Did you adopt a rabbit?
It's a long, long story, which began the day I woke up in the 'bridge', for a lack of a better word, of the Fortress of Doom, sheathed in the Praetor Suit and overlooking an Earth that was neither covered in giant pentagrams nor sprawling ruins, but incidentally also lacking a good deal of satellites, space debris and so on.
Confused, I stared around the room, still wondering what was happening, why wasn't I in my apartment, and believing this was merely a lucid dream from which I would wake up.
And then gave the most fucked up scream ever made in the history of screams when Vega finally spoke up to me.
"Good morning Slayer."
"W-what the fuck?!" Yeah, not exactly a great beginning, ain't it? At least I didn't have the SSG in hand.
…
Yet another self insert where the SI is overpowered, but in a way that is not a power fantasy. No, I'm not abandoning 'Hedge Hell Knight', I just realized that no one has thought of making this story before and wanted to give it a try. I know, I know, very short intro chapter, but don't worry, next one will be at the very least twice as long, if narrative and information heavy.
Cannot Think of a Title
"W-what the fuck?!" I screamed, looking around the room "VEGA?!"
"Yes."
"You're alive!" Didn't have the chance to actually play Eternal, only watch playthroughs, but I did play DOOM, and let me tell you, I'd never felt so attached to a faceless AI before. And then I asked a rather stupid question. "Are you the Father?" Yeah, not exactly a subtle question, but I had to ask; wanted to make sure if ths was Eternal or not.
"I do not know who this 'Father' is, I was created by the UAC to aid them in their operations. Now my task is to aid you in everything you require." VEGA replied. I was kind of relieved, actually, even with the possibility of him just ot knowing.
"Aaalright then." I drawled as I gazed upon the planet below, before giving my first command and deciding to leave the questions about VEGA for later. "Give a status report of everything, myself included." And a status report he gave.
First, there was myself, the Doom Slayer: muscular as hell, a tired face, a short, scruffy beard that was the result of prolongued sleep/stasis/whatever… Only, pretty sure that, while very possibly tall by human standards, Slayer/Doomguy was not over effing seven feet tall (seven point three, to be specific). No idea why was I so damn big, but it wasn't like it was important either.
Another, more significant difference: instead of running on Argent energy to function, the Fortress instead was hooked up to, I shit you not, an antimatter reactor. I was relieved, not only because of the lack of soul using but also the fact the fuel it ran on, a refined form of hydrogen, was incredibly abundant: all we needed was a star, and we were rather close to one.
As for armaments, I had all the weaponry from DOOM, and yes, that included the Big Gun, the Great Communicator, the doom blade, the equipment thrower… but not the Crucible, nor the Unmaykr, though to be fair the sword was to keep Titans down and the gun was, with the arsenal full, kind of superfluous all things given. They were also all upgraded and, for some reason that I still did not get, their ammunition was unlimited despite the abscence of Argent energy. I could even storage them on a Hammerspace dimension to pull them out later, like in the games.
The Fortress itself was also lacking in defenses, but I planned to change that: after all, I could always just make upsized gauss guns and plasma cannons, or even create other things like lasers because, frankly, why not?
Something that became a priority when I found out where, exactly, did I end up at.
It was DC. It had to be, what with a red streak running across the Great Plains and Big Blue flying over a rather clean Metropolis. That said, I couldn't pinpoint which DC Earth I had been sent to at that moment. Later I would find out it was a blend of several, with a great deal of inspiration taken from the cartoons and a bit from other sources. You'll see later what I mean.
Still, I had to make sure this was an actual Earth and not some trick from a local eldritch abomination.
"Vega, can you scan the planet, to make sure it's Earth?" I asked VEGA as I made my way to the Slayer's room, aka my room, to sit on the computer and take a look at the report of Earth. Yeah, the computer may have looked crappy, but it was connected to the Fortress itself.
"Analysis in progress." I had to give it to him, he was fast. I know, I know, 22nd century supercomputer AI who's actually God, but still, he literally took one second to gather the information I needed. One. And he didn't even send drones down there to record the planet, he just scanned the planet or something and poof, data files by the gazoo.
So, the basics of this world: it was summer of 1999, the euro was invented, The Phantom Menace brings Star Wars back to the spotlight, Peter Jackson began filming The Lord Of The Rings in New Zealand, many other things… oh, and exactly two years prior Superman led an invasion to Earth from Apokolips that lasted several months. My knowledge on DC lore was a bit lacking, but I was fairly certain that only happened on the cartoon. On the other hand, the Batman of the place was kind of young, thirty at most.
Anyway, I managed to see Superman, Batman, Flash, Wonder Woman and some others on the heroes side, and Joker, Weather Wizard, Metallo, Captain Boomerang, and so on and so on. Lex Luthor was simply impossible to miss: dude had a poster with his face on it on most major cities of the Americas, and a few others elsewhere.
So, superheroes everywhere, supervillains too, the biggest of the former still trying to earn public trust after a massive fuck up… And yet none, not even Superman with his kryptonian technology, or the rather advanced telescopes of Waynetech for that matter, caught on the fact there was a literal floating castle/space station on the system. 'couse, the fact I placed the Fortress so that the Sun was between us and Earth as soon as I could had something to do.
And this universe had alien civilizations, alien civilizations that had a ridiculous tendency to invade Earth for one reason or another, like Apokolips had done, and then there was the thing of the native demons, or the possibility of DOOM demons making their way here. Well, I was here now, and as sure as Hell not going to let anything happen to this Earth.
I went down to work. No, I did not go down to Earth to bust heads, it wasn't the time for that (yet). First, I had to prepare, not just myself but also the Fortress itself: as badass as it was and despite being nigh invulnerable while also mobile, it had no weapons to speak of, and as far as I knew it was the only thing between another alien invasion and Earth.
And not only I had UAC drones more than capable of mining asteroids and a solar system all for myself, I also had the entire database of both the UAC and ARC to help me with the deed.
Hell, why stop with just them?
First, however, I needed metal for it to happen, lots and lots of metal, and hydrogen for the reactor.
"Vega, see if there are deposits of all these materials in the Solar System and send drones to mine them. Then, build five fabricators." Don't bother asking me what materials I needed, the only one that exists in real life is titanium. "We're refurbishing the Fortress."
"For what purpose, Slayer?"
"To give teeth to the Fortress, I don't want us to be defenseless in case we have uninvited guests. And try to get some helium from the Sun, our storage is running low."
"As you command." Soon, the Fortress of Doom would become a true fortress, one capable of fighting back.
That said, it didn't take for me to become absolutely bored. After all, I would do nothing in person, only supervise the drones coming in and out, and the ripatorium didn't summon demons, which to be honest was a good thing as far as I cared. What better way to stave off boredom, than to playing heroics and make myself known to the world?
Like, for example, stopping cold your typical bank robbery in Metropolis involving a certain kryptonian, another certain kryptonian, a tiberium-powered Terminator and a literal man shark demigod?
And guess what did I also find out as I beat the shit out of King Shark with my bare hands?
First Meeting
Clark Kent, journalist of the Daily Planet and real identity of Superman, had been enjoying his day off by patrolling the city he loved when his enhanced hearing allowed him to hear the last thing he wanted to hear in that situation: the screaming of people and the discharges of firearms (and fortunately only firearms, instead of Intergang's Apokolips-supplied weapons), both coming from one of the banks in the city. Naturally Clark sped up towards the location, assuming whoever was attacking to be just a bunch of well-armed heisters that had been caught.
Only to receive a sedan to the face when he got close enough. Thrown at him by a literal shark man.
"Superman!" King Shark bellowed with a nasty grin on his face as he walked down the stairs of the building. "Come down here so I can show you my teeth up close while the others work!"
King Shark, real name Nanaue, was the half-human offspring of the hawaiian shark god Kamohoali'i, and his divine parentage granted the hybrid superhuman strength and endurance plus amphibious physiology, in the sense he could operate both over and underwater. That was the extent of Clark's knowledge, what with him coming to the spotlight literally two months prior, during which he didn't do much aside from disrupting the peace in Honolulu. Why did he cross the waters betwee Hawaii and the mainland and then several states just to steal a bank on the other side of the country, he didn't know, and frankly, he didn't care.
Clark glared at him, then looked around the bank. The situation was dire: the police was being forced to take cover behind their wrecked vehicles to avoid being shredded by the fire of at least twenty masked robbers, all of them equipped with automatic weapons and, to his horror, a grenade launcher. Sure, it was harmless against him, or at least if it shot normal grenades, but not against the others. Fortunately no one had died yet, but that could change, and nevertheless he could see several officers already wounded… and three dead, shrapnel wounds all over their bodies.
He promptly got rid of the heavy weapon by incinerating it with his heat vision, prompting its bewildered owner to drop the remains, and allowing the police to finally pin the group down, forcing them back inside the building. That only left King Shark as the main threat.
The Man of Steel assessed the situation: unlike most of the enemies he had faced before, King Shark was powerful enough to pose a threat to him, and not just with his muscles but also with his teeth: being part of a semi-divine being, they would be more than capable of piercing his skin.
Clark shook his head: it wasn't time to fear being bitten by a shark the size of a bear. With a yell, he flew down to King Shark and tackled, both of them flying inside the building, where they began to actually fight, exchanging punches and kicks. This caused the firefight to stop as both criminals and cops watched on in trepidation, awe, fear and many more feelings.
"What are you doing here Shark?!" The kryptonian screamed as he pounded the living daylights out of King Shark.
King Shark laughed, hurt by the attack but nonetheless still capable of fighting. "Even demigods have to pay their bills, you know! I'll get paid a fortune if I help these gentlemen carry their bounty!" He then caught Clark's fist and, with a roar, slammed him against the ground one, two, three times, the floor of the bank cracking under the onslaught. Clark himself, however, was more or less unscathed by this, and quickly recovered by grabbing King Shark by the arm and flinging upwards, and then punching him back outside when he fell.
'I can finish the fight quickly' Thought Clark as he sped after King Shark, who had ended on a nearby building's first floor. 'He may match me in brawn and brain, but not speed or skill. All I need to do is-' His line of thought was interrupted by a green beam that appeared out of nowhere and blasted him back inside the bank yet again. A green beam made of radiation that not only made him scream in pain, but also made him feel weak.
Or rather, as he struggled to stand up and failing to do so, actually made him weak.
"Mph, for a brute whose father's a shark god, he's a rather crappy fighter." A british voice spoke near him, one with a metallic flange. "Oh well, don't send a shark to do an englishman's job."
John Corben, more commonly known as Metallo. Previously a mere british mercenary, a fatal disease forced him to take a life-saving operation that uploaded his conscience into an incredibly powerful, kryptonite-powered chassis. Unfortunately, it also lacked the capacity to feel contact, smell or taste, and Corben was a known hedonist. Saying that he felt bitter by being essentially trapped in a sensory-deprived prison would have been an understatement.
And of course, like many others before and after him, he blamed Superman for his new condition.
Which he made clear when he grabbed Clark by the back of his head and glared at him. Part of his head still had the fake head covering it, but otherwise he looked exactly like a certain time-travelling killing machine, with the addition of an core in his chest that glowed like an emerald.
"Metallo…" Clark managed to mutter, before said cyborg punched him in the gut.
"That's right, alien boy, it's your old friend John Corben!" Metallo said in a faux affable tone before punching Clark once more when he fruitlessly tried to reach for the kryptonite shard. "And just like King Shark said, some people need to pay their bills. Now, if only he stopped acting like a hooligan…"
"Hey! I can hear you!, you metal jerk!"
Metallo merely chuckled, before turning his attention back to Clark ."Shark, be a good lad and help the boys with the door; your stunts wrecked the thermal lance. As for you…" The compartment on his chest opened, exposing Clark to a chunk of kryptonite the size of his clenched fist, and causing him indescribable pain. "Now, this might or might not kill you, but I'm not leaving until I hear you scream."
Ironically, Clark felt so weak as the kryptonite's effect took hold of him he couldn't even yell.
And then, just as Clark was starting to lose consciousness, a deep, baritone voice spoke from behind Metallo.
"Let him go!"
The order was accompanied by Metallo being hit by two energy beam cannons, causing him to scream and release Clark from his hold.
Clark, still weak, managed to smile as he saw the source of the rays: a tall metal suit with a large 'S' engraved on its chest, and a red cape on its shoulders, and who was holding a sledgehammer.
John Henry Irons, or as he was known when he wore the suit, Steel. A former worker of LexCorp who resigned in disgust when Luthor gave the green light to a prototype battlesuit, and then used the blueprints of said battlesuit to create his own armor to fight crime.
"You!" Metallo screamed as he closed his core, knowing that unlike Superman, Steel would be completely unaffected by the space rock. That, and he remembered the last time he foolishly let it out in the open with the suit-wearing man around.
"What, nothing about poor me?" Another voice, this time feminine, as a blonde girl came inside, wearing a blue skirt and a t-shirt with an emblazoned 'S' on it. This was his adopted cousin, Kara In-Ze, Kara Kent, or rather Supergirl as it was, a survivor from Krypton's sister planet Argon, which was too afflicted by the catastrophe that destroyed Krypton.
She promptly flied down at Metallo and dive-kicked him, throwing into a pillar. Then, as Steel attacked Metallo, both exchanging blows with metallic fists and hammeer, she ran towards a still weakened Clark and helped him up, worry clear on her face.
"Superman, are you alright?"
"Yeah, I just need some time to clear the kryptonite." Clark replied… before a large body came out of nowhere and tackled both, sending Kara flying.
"Supergirl!" Clark managed to scream before a huge fist uppercutted him.
It was King Shark, who understandably didn't seem to be amused "Did you idiots forget about me?!" He screamed as he punched Clark. "I'll rip your spines out and flosh my teeth with them!"
"Get away from him!" Kara cried a, but King Shark, in a twist of irony, used Clark as a living club to batter her away.
"Shut up, blondie, the adults are talking!" King Shark said before charging at Steel, who because of him hammering Metallo didn't see him coming, and doing the same to him.
Metallo dusted himself and stood up. "Thanks for the assist, Nanaue." He then opened his container, bathing Clark in green poisonous light once more, unconcerned at the possibility off doing damage to Shark. "Let's finish the job, shall we?"
Whatever King Shark was going to say in reply was interrupted by a stream of blue bolts flying in the air and then pelting King Shark's back. While it didn't seem like the attacks actually wounded him, but was obvious by his scream of pain that they still hurt, to the point he dropped Clark and backhanded Metallo away.
"What in my father's name was that?!" The shark man screamed, rage clear on his eyes as he turned around to look at the direction the shots came from. Now facing his back, Clark saw that the shots did wound him, exposing cartilage and muscle to the air, but they were small, and even then the damage was being quickly healed.
It didn't change the fact someone was in possession of a weapon that could hurt a demigod. Maybe even killing him.
"Who the Hell are you?!" King Shark bellowed.
Clark, still weak from both the kryptonite and the beatdown, looked from between King Shark's legs to where and who was he screaming at.
There, in the demolished entrance of the bank, stood a tall, armored figure, looking at them silently.
The first thing that came to Clark's mind when he saw the newcomer was 'green', what with the unknown's armor being mostly colored several shades of said color, aside from a few gray areas here and there. Even the helmet's faceplate was green, though that was a minor point compared: for some unknown he could not see through the armor plating and discern the man's identity (because it was obvious it was a man).
The second thing was 'military'. He wasn't completely sure about that, but something told him that the suit the unknown wore was neither of police nor civilian making, and not just for the way it looked: he could see a long, serrated blade attached on his left gauntlet.
Then there was the fact he was clutching what was unmistakably a weapon, a bulky, rectangle-shaped energy cannon that looked big even in his hands, clearly the weapon from where the energy projectiles that struck Shark came from. However, it didn't seem to be a 'prototype' from LexCorp or the many other companies specialized in weaponry, nor reverse-engineered from an Apolokiptian weapon like many others had done before.
The last thing was 'big'. Even from his laying position and at that distance, Clark could see that the stranger was at least a few inches taller than King Shark, who was himself a bit over seven feet tall, and just as wide as him. And somehow, Clark doubted it was some kind of suit that merely made him look larger. Well, and the fact that he had no armor covering his elbows: those biceps had to be at least twice as big as his, possibly more.
Clark didn't know what to make of this man, unable as he was to see his real self. King Shark, on the other hand, did.
"Who are you?!" King Shark asked the man, who merely glanced at him. Getting no response, King Shark growled and stomped over to him. The man still did nothing as five hundred pounds of demigod made its way towards the stranger. Before Clark or the others could recover, King Shark was already throwing a punch that would have splattered the man.
Or would had, had he not caught it with his free hand.
King Shark, surprised by this, tried to free himself from the soldier's hold, but no matter how hard he pulled, the man would not release his fist.
And then the man squeezed. Clark did not know what was worse, the sound of bones (or rather, cartilage) being grinded to dust, or the scream of sheer agony that King Shark gave with the aforementioned action.
The soldier was not done. Repeating what King Shark had done before, he slammed the demigod against the ground, again with enough force to make him bleed. Then, he slammed the weapon's barrel into Shark's gut with just as much force, maybe more given he sent him flying across the bank. Shark then crashed right into the vault's door hard enough to leave an imprint shaped like his silhouette.
This stranger just made beating the hell out of a shark demigod that matched Superman look easy, trivial even. That did not sit well with Clark.
After a few seconds of complete silence, every robber began firing at him, but they may as well have used bad words because the giant didn't even react to the bullets pinging off his armor. Whatever the suit was made of, it had to be at least as good as Steel's if it could withstand that kind of damage.
And then, the man looked at Clark, his eyes visible through the translucent faceplate, giving him a neutral expression.
Clark, transfixed by the stare of the soldier, didn't see Metallo rise behind him until the glow of his eyes intensified. Kara did notice, but it was too late for her to do anything.
"Watch out!" Kara warned before Metallo attacked the man with a beam. However, despite engulfing the man and utterly destroying everything around, it had as much effect on him as the bullets did: none whatsoever.
The soldier slowly turned, and despite his neutral stance and the kryptonian's inability to see his face, something told the Man of Steel and his adopted cousin that the soldier was not amused by Metallo's action.
"You think you can even dent me? I'm literally indestructible!" Metallo boasted as he took a fighting stance. Despite the boast, even those without superhearing could hear a tinge of fear in his voice. "I can tangle with Superman!"
The man merely stared at him for a few seconds before punching Metallo in the face and launching him across the bank. The man then placed his weapon on the ground and, with incredible speed for someone of his size, ran at Metallo, who began firing blasts of radiation as fast as he could, only managing in slowing the charging giant a little. Just as he was about to collide with Metallo, however, the soldier stopped cold.
"Superman?" Clark head John ask. He had already recovered from King Shark's attack, but just like Clark he was transfixed in what was going on. "Should we intervene?"
"I want to see how this ends." Clark replied
"What's the matter big guy? Chicken?" Metallo sneered before shooting another blast of kryptonite towards the stranger, again doing nothing aside from making the man flinch.
'How much does the man weigh to not be pushed back?' Thought Clark as Metallo fired again, and again, doing nothing. 'Heck, just what is that suit made of? I'd be dead after the third strike!' That kind of power would be more than enough to vaporize (and irradiate) a bunker, yet it did nothing to the soldier!
The stranger, rather than responding to Metallo's attacks, extended his left arm and advanced towards Metallo. Given the open palm it was clear what he had planned to do, the intention so obvious that Corben, realizing what was about to happen, closed his core and tried to keep the man away from him, but he had wasted too much energy in his fruitless attempts to kill him, and even then the soldier was simply much stronger than he was. So much that he outright stabbed his hand through Metallo's chest and pulled the kryptonite shard powering him without any problem. This caused Metallo's rictus of terror to become frozen on his face, and the green glow of his eyes to go out.
Then, as he threw the chassis of the cyborg away and inspected the kryptonite, the soldier did something that astonished Clark.
He made the space rock disappear. Just like that. He did not throw it away, nor crushed it on his hand. It simply… ceased to exist, for lack of a better word. Was he in possesion of a miniature universe, like the Phantom Zone?
'That's impossible, there would have been a portal if he did' Clark thought, since such technology was only available to him, and him alone. That said, the possibility of someone on Earth developing a similar device to the Phantom Zone wasn't entirely impossible, just very unlikely.
And then, as he walked up to Clark and stood up in front of him, the soldier spoke.
"Are you alright, Superman?" He heard the man said.
Dear God, that voice. Bruce too used a deep, baritone voice that he deepened when he was Batman, both to conceal his identity and to intimidate criminals but this man's? His was like, for lack of a better description, the rumbling of a tank's threads as it moved, very gravelly and deep, and seemingly barely used. He would know, he was a journalist, and part of the job involved hearing hundreds of people.
Seeing that this man was courteous enough to offer him a hand, Clark accepted it. "Yeah, just a bit winded, that's all. It's been some time since I fought Corben." Now that he was so close, Clark noted that the soldier was, indded, much taller than him: the top of his head barely reached his shoulder. And he was a bit over six feet.
Kara walked up to her cousin, never looking away from the soldier. "Superman, any idea of who he might be?" She asked as the unknown checked up on the wounded and helped Steel stand up. The robbers were no longer a problem: they had wasted all their ammunition firing at him and the police quickly took advantage of that.
"None, but he seems to be friendly." Clark said before he heard a sound that made him and Kara grunt in pain: the screech of metal being torn apart. It was King Shark, now fully recovered from the previous beatdown and furious, with the ripped door of the vault standing next to him.
"Hey, you Iron Man wannabe!" King Shark screamed before sending the door rolling towards the soldier and Steel. As it advanced, people ran away from the door as it crushed the floor under it.
Clark tried to fly, but he was still under the effects of the kryptonite and so fell to the ground, and so did Kara. Looking in trepidation as the makeshift wheel rolled towards the soldier, he expected him to dodge the rolling door, to jump out of the way.
He definitely didn't expect him to merely raise a hand… and stop the thirty-ton improvised wheel cold, with barely a flinch. The truth was that a part of him did expect the stranger to do so; after all, mere minutes ago he manhandled the superhumanly strong King Shark, and later did the same with the equally strong Metallo.
Still, didn't stop him from being a bit amazed.
The stranger then lifted the metal circle as high as he could, and threw back at King Shark faster than the mutant had made it roll. Clark managed to hear a panicked 'what the Hell' before the demigod was utterly crushed under the weight of thirty tons of metal flying at high speed, hundreds of teeth and even blood flying as it did so. The throw probably also ruined hundreds of thousands worth in gold since Shark was right in front of the vault, but at that moment he didn't really care about that, and apparently neither did the soldier, who after making sure King Shark wasn't moving (he was still alive, but it would take some time for him), grabbed his weapon and turned to leave… through a blue portal that opened right in the entrance of the building.
"Wait!" Clark managed to say before the soldier stepped into the portal as it closed.
Silence reigned in the building, until Steel voiced what everyone thought at the moment with a short, single sentence.
"Who the Hell was that?"
So, how was the fight? Nice and complete, or too unexplained and short? For those wondering why did DS manhandle both King Shark and Metallo with ease and shrug their attacks, two reasons:
-They're both strong to pose a threat to Superman, but that's mostly because he holds himself back, so they're technically not that strong (would this make it an oxymoron?).
-This DS is closer to the lore one, an OP BAMF who defeated a kaiju-sized demon with naught but a sword and a shield and who can be best described as a combination of Punisher and the Incredible Hulk. Related to the above, he didn't outright exterminate them because he held himself back: he didn't want alienate himself by acting like usual with non-demons.
Last edited: Jul 21, 2021
The Aftermath
So, my first heroic 'feat' was a bit… boring. I mean, stopping a bank robbery has to be the most cliché heroics ever next to getting cats down from trees, right? On the other hand, it allowed me to find out just how strong I was, which is very. On the other hand, the robbers were led by a tiberium-powered Terminator and King Shark, so it wasn't your usual robbery either.
That said, either King Shark's demigo status came from some lesser god, or he wasn't as powerful as he could have been, because I literally manhandled the fish without much problem. Metallo posed even less of a threat, and only served to demonstrate the indestructibility of the Praetor suit. Well, the suit and my unprotected arms.
Sure, I could have ripped them in half or kept firing and not releasing the trigger until they were a burning mush and be done with it, but that would have angered Superman and Company, and at that moment I did not want to risk it since despite the statement above I still didn't know the full extent of my capabilities, and it wasn't like I knew martial arts or anything like that to compensate for lack of strength. It later turned out I was, in fact, much stronger than I seemed then, but it'd take me some time to discover that fact.
Another thing, I took the kryptonite that Metallo used to basically live and brought it with me to the Fortress. You never know, and besides better to keep it away from Superman as far as possible, no?
You might also be wondering, why did I bring the plasma rifle with me instead of something more heavy-hitting? Well, aside from not wanting to become the Incredible Punisher yet, I didn't want to leave anything that the World's Best Detective could use to know anything about me, and most of my other weapons left either spent cases or shells, and chunks of metal on their targets, while the rest left nothing at all, area surrounding the target included.
So, back to the Fortress of Doom. The drones had managed to gather several metals from across the Solar System, including titanium, iron and tungste, which allowed me to make, among other things, tungstronium, aka the thing the heavy cannon, the chaingun and the gauss cannon are made of.
Why was tungstronium important? Because it's incredibly tough, way more than the original tungsten the alloy is made of. The main downside is that it's pretty damn heavy, but I'm pretty damn strogn myself, and besides I wasn't going to make more guns for me: rather, it would be the main component of the Fortress' defenses. Between the reactor and the fact ammunition was essentially limitless, the only thing left was making sure they could fire as much as I needed/wanted without their barrels getting wrecked or melted after how long firing.
I also scoured the entirety of Mars, remembering the first episode of Justice League and the War of the Worlds homage it paid with the tripods and the invasion. Guess what I found? Nothing, not a living soul, either native or local. I did find some fossiles, but they belonged to very primitive lifeforms, and according to VEGA they were billions of years old. So, no Martian Manhunter, nor alien invasion from Mars.
And no, there was no Hebeth hiding either, nor gate to Hell in either the planet nor the Moons nor any kind of ruins under the surface of the planet. No, I didn't shoot Mars, and not because I didn't have the BFG-10000 with me: I didn't want to destroy Mars with what I had planned, which was making a base so I found out the hard way, by mining.
Why make a base on Mars when the Fortress of Doom was more than enough for me? I had several ideas planned, but I found out that the Fortress, even with the magic crap it had, was simply just not big enough for me to enact them, and to make them happen I didn't just materials, but also more space on actual solid ground.
Now, back to Earth, things had become quite hectic when the public, namely the press and the government of the USA, found out about me and my actions. Some wanted to know more about me, some wanted Superman to take me to the gutter before I killed someone despite the fact I had yet to kill anything at all (and I put emphasis in 'yet to kill'), some wanted to steal my tech for the betterment of their people… The typical reaction to a literal space marine suddenly coming out of nowhere and then leaving just as fast, really. Some organizations even had the gal to already make plans about this despite barely knowing anything of me.
Like a certain playboy-cum-vigilante who began analyzing videos of me like a freaking addict to screens.
Unfortunately for them, I had a superAI that could hack every firewall they had and copy-steal their files for me to read.
Nonetheless, still other people liked the fact I helped Superman and the others, Supes himself included, and didn't off neither the Payday wannabes nor the supervillains despite having the means to do so, which I kinda liked. Sadly, that also made them assume that I was some kind of gun-toting Superman, powerful but reluctant against killing, which I wasn't.
Especially given my next official heroic act was me killing a bunch of terrorists with extreme prejudice. Before that, however, several other things happened.
All while Batman tried to know more about me.
Guardian Box said:
Seeing him be slow and ponderous, or just standing there and taking the shots just feel wrong.
He needs to be constantly on the move, dodging enemy fire while shooting, jumping around, hookshooting his way closer to deliver a devastating melee attacks, and so on. Always moving, always in action, always hard to pin down, until he's just right there in your face and ripping your spine out - until a moment later he's stomping on someone else, or makes some distance so he can rocket barrage the enemy.
Only if you have this kind of Slayer running around, when some villain finally manages to nail him down with a few well placed shots, only then him tanking those would feel satisfying.
In other words, neither the Doom Slayer, the Doomguy nor the Doom Marine were ever known for their physical durability. It always was all about mobility and firepower (and also glory kills with the Slayer)
Click to expand…
Click to shrink…
I know, but I want to create a sensation of 'unrelenting powerhouse' for the lesser villains that can't hurt him in any way, to make an impression. The 'he's standing there, menacingly' effect, basically.
And then scare the holy fuck out of them when he starts running and they find out (the hard way) how fast can a 7.3 foot space marine be.
Besides, the Praetor suit (or at least the chestplate) it's supposed to be indestructible, and let's be honest, if even the UAC couldn't destroy it, a bunch of heisters with 20th century guns aren't going to do anything to it. Heck, after entering the Divinity Machine, the DS himself has to be bulletproof to some point.
Investigation
Gotham City, a city so dready it seemed bleak even during a clear summer day, known across the states as the most crime-ridden municipality of the country, from simple robberies and mere forgeries to gang wars that can see up to a hundred dead and serial murders. Add in things like a psychotic clown, a plant-controlling ecoterrorist, a literal human crocodile who wasn't shy of snacking on people and more, and the city becomes something even worse than it already is.
It was also known for the sole reason the city situation wasn't worse still: some called him hero, others called him a menace, but everyone knew of him.
The Dark Knight, Batman, or as the public knew him by his alter ego, Bruce Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises.
At that moment Bruce, wearing his iconic suit, was watching a recording from a large monitor with a grim expression, on the cave system that was the Batcave, his lair, base of operations and trophy shelf all in one.
He didn't exactly like what he was seeing: a huge, armor-clad figure firing some kind of energy weapons at a humanoid great white, and then wrestling said shark into submission before disabling Metallo in a rather brutal manner, before leaving as quickly as he came through a blue, sphere-shaped blue portal. In other, smaller screens, reporters, journalists and people of importance spoke of the same thing: where did he come from? Is he part of the military? What will he do next?
Just who exactly is this man?
So many questions, and all he had was security cameras' recordings, some reports, and little else.
Well, that and an eyewitness that had been there, and who should had already been there fifteen minutes ago.
Incidentally, it was at that moment when he heard the sound of someone walking down the steps that led to that section of the Batcave.
"You're late." He said to the person when they stepped down the stairs. It was Clark, wearing his civilian garments, including the shoes that increased his height to Bruce's level to pass himself as taller than he already was, and by extension taller and leaner than Superman. An inversion of Bruce's disguise, which made him look larger, and just one of the many differences they had.
Aside from their refusal to kill, that is.
"Just because I'm faster than a bullet doesn't mean I can always arrive in time." The shorter man replied with an amused smile as he walked to him, earning an annoyed grunt from Bruce. "That, and Alfred delayed me a bit. You know, for a man with a british surname, he sure acts like a scotsman."
He had met the kryptonian a few months after the incident with Victor and that embarrasment of man who called himself a 'philantrope'. Unlike many others, the trust he had on him had not shattered when Superman led Darkseid's armies, having already known of Clark's brainwashing thanks to his detective skills and simple deduction. Alfred, however, wasnt that forgiving: the last two times, the butler had always had rifle from back when he was part of the military near, and once he actually welcomed him by shoving the barrel on his face and opening fire. Obviously it didn't do much (aside from scaring the hell out of the neighbors), but it was the sentiment what counted: I don't like you, and if you do something that might threaten Bruce or me I will shoot you again, no matter if it does nothing.
"Don't worry, he'll eventually stop doing that." He then thought it over and sighed. "Eventually. It's hard to gain his trust."
"I'm fine by that. And I can see where you got it." Clark said, his smile still on his face, before looking at the screen. "Any idea of who our mysterious man might be?"
"I've been watching this same scene from cameras located at other angles several times in the last two days, and all of them show the same thing: a seven and a half-foot tall armored man interrupting a robbery, pelting King Shark with a plasma cannon, and what you already told me."
"Plasma?" Clark cocked an eyebrow. He had to know about energy weapons, what with being an alien who had fought other aliens. "How did you reach that conclusion?"
"Lasers move as fast as light, particle weapons don't work like the recordings show, and plasma is the only source of heat hot enough to cause fourth degree burns one someone like Shark." Bruce explained, though to be fair his own knowledge on energy weapons was basic at best. "On the other hand, it doesn't look like an Intergang weapon, nor anything else for that matter. Too streamlined to be a prototype yet also too big for regular use, too. And no discernable energy source."
Clark folded his arms over his chest as he stared at the screen, which showed the soldier ripping the kryptonite. "Any leads?"
Bruce shook his head. "I've checked every military database and PMC agencies I could hack, and none of them had anything about a super soldier with an automatic plasma cannon." His frown deepened. "One powerful enough to kill."
"You know, he could have done worse than painfully best them." Clark pointed out.
Bruce shrugged his shoulders. "He probably didn't want to anger you and the others." He replied.
Clark threw him an skeptical look, something that actually surprised Bruce. "'Anger me'?" He parroted. "That man not only defeated King Shark in short notice, he also stopped cold a thirty-ton metal door rolling at him, lifted it up over his head without showing any sign of effort, and then threw it back faster than it had rolled at enough speed to crush a demigod to a bloody pulp." Bruce noted the emphasis Clark put on 'threw it back'. "Shark only survived because he managed to heal the damage, and even, and if the paramedics who I spoke to were right, he still skirted the line between life and death. Not clinical death, actual, complete and utter cease of all functions-death. Do you have idea of just how much strength is necessary to do that? I can do better, but what he did is close enough."
Unfortunately, Bruce did know: after analysing the video for several hours, Bruce found out that the soldier had thrown the door at an approximate speed (or in this case, velocity) of at least seventy miles per hour. And that was a conservative calculation. Someone who could do that had to be very, very strong indeed, enough to make Superman himself feeñ uneasy at the implications of someone being so strong being also quite brutal in hand to hand fighting.
And do the same thing to Batman.
"Well, do you have anything useful about him, then? His voice, anything that coild point to someone?" Bruce asked, deciding to not inquire more in the unfortunate implications, at least for the moment.
"Well, he was considerate enough to check if everyone was alright. And no, don't ask me if I discovered his identity: whatever the suit is made of is x-ray proof. I did see his eyes, though. And he spoke."
"Anything from them?"
Clark shook his head. "Only that he's got eyes, is seemingly human, and has the deepest voice I've ever heard aside from Darkseid himself; other than that. that's the extent of my knowledge." Clark told him. "You know, he could be a time traveller for all we know. Certainly it's not impossible."
The truth was that Bruce had indeed considered the idea of the unknown being a soldier from a distant future (or maybe not so distant) that had somehow ended up in the past, but rejected it when he, among them the simple lack of further evidence. Still, as Clark said it was entirely possible their unknown soldier was from the future.
Then, a sudden possibility struck Bruce's mind, one that he hadn't thought of before. "You sure he's human? Maybe he could be another kryptonian like you and Kara?"
But Clark shook his head. "Whatever he wears is not of kryptonian making; I don't really know much about kryptonian armor making, but we tended to make things much smoother than here on Earth That suit, on the other hand, looks like it has been made here on Earth. Call it a hunch if you want."
"Then, unless very advanced powered armor technology or even magic are involved, his strength cannot come from the suit itself; it leaves his forearms bare." Bruce rewinded the video to show the man under fire, and not reacting at all to the shots in any way. "And whatever that suit of his is made of, is at least strong enough to resist small arms fire with complete impunity for a good while and a fight with two superhumans."
"So are his biceps." Clark remarked. Indeed, the rounds that struck the man's sole exposed parts had the same effect the others had, none whatsoever. "He must really like working out." He joked.
While the joke could be considered very simple at best, that comment did make Batman Bruce, why wear all that metal around if the man himself was also bulletproof? Or at least enough that intermediate and fully powered cartridges posed no threat? Maybe heavy weapons DID pose a threat to him without the armor on? Not impossible, both villains he had fought were significantly more dangerous than machine guns and neither attacked exposed forearms directly. Or were only his arms bulletproof?
And just HOW resilient was that suit? Not even King Shark biting on it seemed to have done any damage, and while the mutant himself had only been on the radar for little less than a month Bruce had seen his handiwork: those jaws could bite chuncks of reinforced steel and spite them out with ease.
Which, again, spoke volumes of the hardness of the armor.
Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "So, we have a man who's not only in possession of a weapon that could kill a demigod, armor tough enough to ignore blows from said demigod, and some sort of honest to God wormhole, but who's also strong enough to potentially match you." He summarized. "Is there anything else we can gather from this?"
"Lack of finesse?"
Bruce looked Clark, his left eyebrow raised in clear confusion. "What?"
"Look at the recording, he doesn't use any kind of, well, technique when dealing with the two."
Clark was right, the soldier didn't use anything more complex than punching and kicking. Then again… "You don't need to know how to fight when you're sufficiently strong. I thought you of all people would know that."
"Hey! For your information, I'm a white belt in karate!" Seeing Bruce's eyebrow rise higher still. "I began taking classes after the invasion. It may not look like it, but I'm not the strongest man in the galaxy, you know. And I hold back."
"That's also another concern. Something tells me he too was holding back with both Shark and Metallo. What if he hadn't? Or what if he hadn't released the trigger and turned Shark into a burning mush? What if he had-" He began to list before Clark raised a hand, stopping him from going into a small rant.
"He didn't kill anyone despite being able to do so, if that's what you're worried about." The Man of Steel pointed out. "And besides, why do you care? He hasn't even come to Gotham."
"Yet. Someone with that kind of transport method could be anywhere they wanted, whenever they wanted." Bruce noted morosely, already thinking of the possibility of the soldier giving a visit to his city. "And that doesn't change the fact we have an unknown with super strength, at least a plasma cannon and either advanced technology, magic or even both, running around our planet without a way to tail him. And you should be a bit more worried: now he has one big advantage against you and we still don't know his intentions."
Clark gave him an annoyed look "Are you always so paranoid with new people?"
"I wouldn't be the World's Best Detective if I wasn't." Bruce replied without bothering to look at him, before sighing. "Still, you have a point, he hasn't done anything wrong." 'Yet' He thought, grateful that his alien companion didn't have mind-reading among his many powers.
Clark put a comforting hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Let's give this guy sometime and then we'll decide on what to do about him. You trusted me and it turned out right in the end, remember?"
Bruce sighed and then looked back at the screen, which was again displaying the soldier entering his portal and leaving.
'Just WHO are you? And where did you come from?'
The answers he wanted would come sooner than he thought. Unfortunately, not all of them would come in a good way.
And neither of them knew they were being observed from several millions miles away.
How was this chapter? Did I write Bruce right, distrusting and analysing? It wasn't like DS left lots of evidence for him. Yeah, I made Bruce taller than Clark. Also, is there a way that I can make Alfred a scotsman while also keeping the Pennyworth surname?
Kitchen Ace and Taking Names
You know, for being a multibillionaire, Bruce Wayne sure as Hell had shitty firewalls shielding his most valuable information. Of course, VEGA could hack into practically anything if I asked him to do so, so there's that.
So, long story short Bruce was stereotypically concerned about me, and Clark was… unestereotypically also worried concerned about me, apparently because not many people here were as strong as I seemed to be to them. Back at the now groundbound Fortress of Doom, I spent several days refurbishing the interior of the place because I had lots of rooms
"Vega, find me some crimes to stop."
"What kind of crimes, Slayer?"
"The kind that someone like Superman can't stop in time, but still some muscle to stop." Couldn't let him have all the fun, did I? As for Flash, he operated mostly in America, so no need to worry about the red streak getting ahead of me. Of course, with my teleporting system, the entire planet was my 'playground' so to speak.
Oh, but I haven't explained why did I want to become your typical crime-fighting vigilante (although you might have an idea): for the simple reason that to earn people's trust, I had to make small things before I can start doing the big, important things that would eventually put me in a pedestal. That, and the drones were already taking care of the components for my big plans of the future, and I was bored with just watching Earth from my new screens (I found the plasma flat monitors gathering dust deep in the Fortress).
Of course, I didn't want to start by fighting the small small crime, like mugging or robbery. No, I wanted the big ones, the ones where the aid of a superstrong guy like me was outright compulsory to stop.
First, there was this crazy ex-mayor in Italy, some Luigi Bianchi who did not take well not being reelected by the city, some nameless municipality in Tuscany. As in, he became nuts, robbed a gunshop to take a rifle, went to the city hall and held everyone there at gunpoint, threatening to kill them one by one unless they elected him again. It was a bit hard taking him seriously, however, what with him beng a fat little man with a ridiculous moustache and who looked like a clown without makeup, covered in sweat and all that. Hell, he kinda resembled Mario and everything, which probably explained things.
Well, it seemed funny at first… until the man actually shot one of the women taken hostage in the knee, blowing it off, and then began taking potshots at the people outside the building, proving he knew how to fire a rifle. Someone had to intervene before he actually killed someone and save the wounded from bleeding out, but neither the Carabinieri nor the Polizia didn't want tot just barge in in case he decide to just off the hostages. Enter Doom Slayer.
Also, I think I had seen something similar happen before, but didn't remember where, and not in this world either.
"I want my attorney! And a recount of the elections! No matter what the results are, I want my job back!" I heard Luigi scream at the top of his lungs, emphasizing each sentence with a shot, before I left to get him. As for how was I able to understand italian, I just did. Chalk it up to divine power from the Divinity Machine.
So busy he was rambling about 'showing them who the Caesar is' and all that crap that he didn't see a portal appear right in the middle of the room and me stepping out. The hostages did, but they were either too stupified by my sudden appearance to react, or smart enough that they knew help had come and didn't want to botch it.
"Mister Bianchi! Release the wounded hostage and we might be able to… what the hell?!" Aaand the police saw me standing behind the ex-mayor, prompting the guy to turn around and stare stupidly at my armored chest for a few seconds, before looking up and staring at my polarized helmet.
The face he got when he saw his own scared shitless expression mirrored on my helmet? Priceless.
Luigi didn't have time to scream before I dope-slapped him in the face with enough force to both make him crash against a nearby wall and rip off his jaw.
No, it did not kill him. It was partly because he himself hadn't actually killed anyone and I didn't want to start doing so myself yet, partly because, in hindsight, there was no need to: he would end up spending the better part of a year on a bed because, even though I held back, he nonetheless was slapped by a giant-ass of a man in the face and then slammed against a brick wall at a dangerous speed: at the very least, he would only eat with a straw for the rest of his life.
Then, after making sure the other hostages were fine, I approached the wounded girl, who had already lost consciousness. I grabbed her and her detached leg, then did the same with Luigi, opened a portal to the nearest hospital with an ICU wing, dropped them off, and then left as quickly as I had arrived.
After that the national channels of Italy began gossiping about the Soldato Verde (Green Soldier), which in turn made America talk even more about me and wonder who I was, where did I come from, and all those same questions they talked about days before. So did Bruce, who didn't become more paranoid but did wonder out loud the fact I had acted in Europe all of sudden.
Also, it turned out that Alfred is half-scot from his mother's side. And has a FN FAL hidden in his room and is not afraid of using it against Superman. Gotta admit, the dude's got balls of chrome steel.
A kidnap attempt, a prototype stealing, and a yet another robbery later, VEGA found a high-speed rail in Germany that ran at full speed and could not stop because the controls had sorted out in the middle of the route. To make matters worse, the urban section it would eventually pass through was not designed with trains that moved at more than a hundred kilometers per hour, with several police cars and a chopper giving chase. It was the perfect recipe for a derailment, one that Superman couldn't get to in time.
Fortunately, they had me watching over them.
Yes, I know, a train having its brakes broken with no one to blame them for it is an accident, not a crime, but still. And besides, I found out it was no accident.
The passengers of the train, already terrified because of the possibility of them dying, got understandably freaked out when the mysterious man from Italy suddenly appeared in the middle car.
I then modified the portal so that it went from the car to Berlin, so that they could leave, which they did after several confused BPOL peeked their heads in. Making sure that all of the passengers went across, I made my way to the locomotive and found the driver and a few other staff trying to salvage the situation before they all died, not knowing they were saved.
"The system is broken, guys! I can't stop the train!" The driver screame in german as he tried his best to stop the vehicle, not realizing I was not one of his colleagues at first, even ignoring the quiet rumbling I made as I walked. "We need to-" He managed to say before turning and seeing me standing there, inspecting the damage.
Completely busted to Hell and back. It would not stop on its own unless I took every last drop of oil, and even then physics would ensure it would keep moving for quite a while.
"What happened." I asked (well, more like said), again somehow speaking german despite not having studied it.
The driver forced himself out of his stupor, unable to afford getting intimidated. "I don't know! The control desktop was fine an hour ago and then it began to fume before shutting off! Can you stop fix it?!"
"No." In truth I could, but it would take me time, time I didn't have, and even then I later discovered it wasn't just the controls that were broken. I then pointed backwards. "There's a portal in the middle car leading to Berlin. Everyone's already there. Go." Yeah, that was the longest sentence I muttered since arriving. Expect me to talk more because this was not the game where Doom Slayer never spoke.
"But the train can't stop!"
"I'll make it stop, but not with you here." I said before again gesturing towards the back. "Leave."
His fellow workers did as I said and ran to the wagon as fast as their legs could take them, but the driver hesitated a bit. Giving me one last look of apprehension, he ran towards the middle car, leaving me alone with a smoking control panel and a train that was moving faster and faster by the minute. Now the death toll would be zero, but that still left me with a runaway train.
A runaway train I was about to forcibly stop. The first thing I did was to shoot the engine so that when it stopped, it would stay that way. Then, after making my way outside and to the locomotive's nose.
Have any of you seen either Spiderman 2 or Hancock, were both heroes had… radically differing ideas when it came to stopping railway vehicles? Well, I have seen both, and decided to try if I could do the same. Of course, instead of using my feet to fruitlessly break the sleepers, or jumping in front of the train and making it crash against me to stop it, I took a middle point: I gradually sank myself on the ground between the rails; too slowly and the train would keep going fast, too fast and it would crash against me.
It wasn't just an effort to not destroy an expensive HSR (aside from the engine, but those are easier to replace), but also to test how strong was my body, because just fighting superstrong villains didn't fully reveal my strength and fortitude level.
Or, in layman's terms, I wanted to imitate Peter, but without the webs, and see how long I could resist a few thousand tons and the arth itself pushing against me.
It turned out to be quite alot, because after a full minute of me digging across the ground like some sort of human plow, the train fully stopped, and I digged myself out of the asphalt, a bit winded and obviously dirty, but otherwise completely fine, and not just because of the Praetor suit.
The small police convoy that had been chasing the train (and then watching me stopping said train) pulled over near me and pulled their weapons, falling on their training because they just didn't know what to do in case they encountered me.
"Hands up in the air!" The lead officer exclaimed.
I merely glanced at him before walking inside. One of the cops had to have a twitchy finger or saw something that wasn't there, because he accidentally fired at me, and a few others followed suit. It did nothing to me, however, and they stopped when I entered the cab.
"VEGA?" I asked the AI. "Scan the controls, see if there's anything that could tell us what hapenned."
"Scanning." VEGA said before doing so. "The interior of the controller has remains of a small explosive device inside, alongside the braking system, the lightning and several other systems of the vehicle."
So, the failure of the train was no accident: someone had planted bombs inside the controls panel, the brakes, and the other crucial parts of the train, but without actually blowing up the train itself to make it look like an accident. Sabotage, but from who?
Since I had yet to start my own investigation in the matter, and needed the train to do it, I did the most logical thing: ignoring the cries and orders to stand down from the BPOL's small army that had gathered around me, I opened a portal large enough to pull the cab through to give it a more thorough inspection back at the Fortress.
And guess what I found after disassembling the cab, sprinkled inside the controls?
A piece of metal with a three-pronged trident pained on it. Well, at least LexCorp wasn't involved in the matter, so I could rule out Luthor, and Intergang was mostly based in the States, so it wasn't them. But then, who it was? What bastard was willing to derail a high-speed train and kill hundreds of people?
"VEGA, start searching for anything related to this symbol."
Vega ended up with too much references to Poseidon, Neptune, the sea in general, forks, and surprisingly retiarii gladiators (although to be fair, they did use tridents), but what interested me the most was: Aquaman, the self-apointed King of the Seas who fiercely protected his realm from anyone who wanted to hurt it, but that included things like whaling, pollution and the like. Was he involved on this? Very unlikely despite his attitude towards the surface, but at the same time this was not mainstream DC, so everything could happen. What should I do with him? Was he a villain here? Did I just find myself with a plot in my hands?
Later I discovered that it that Aquaman had nothing to do with this, but at that moment I didn't know it.
And then, just when I was considering just outright kidnap the guy, I was rudely reminded of the fact that since the Fortress of Doom was now landed, anyone with a telescope powerful enough to see Mars' surface could in turn catch a glimpse of the Fortress and the industrialized area around it.
That and, say, a rover taking pictures out of it. Or a ship-owning kryptonian and his friends landing near the Fortress.
Yes, Superman had a ship.
Guests
First, before we get to Superman, let's talk about the rover. Would you believe me if I told you it took me days to see the damn thing recording us from atop a nearby dune? Because that's exactly what happened. Imagine my face when I realized that a small robot had been watching the works around the Fortress and the Fortress itself for at least a day.
No, I'm not going to tell you what exactly I was making around the Fortress, it's a surprise.
"VEGA, what is that?" I asked VEGA as I looked at the rover through the heavy cannon's scope. Why? Because it was several miles away. Yes, the camera it had allowed it to see that far, and no, I could not do that even with the helmet on, it lacked a zoom.
"It appears to be a-"
I stopped him. "I know what a Mars Rover is. What I want to know is how did we allow it to get so close to the Fortress." Yeah, us, not just VEGA: how the fuck did I miss a car-sized space RC moving at walking speed towards my base, even during our first survey of the planet, I did not know.
"It seems we missed it during our initial survey of Mars. You specifically asked for possible native ruins, not foreign unmanned vehicles."
Typical for an AI to follow orders to the letter, but he was right about that. So, momentarily forgetting I could just open a portal to bring it to me, I ran the several miles separating me from the retreating rover, whose operator realized the space marine they had been spying on for however long had seen them, but being a three hundred-pound drone it barely moved a hundred yards before I reached it.
The first thing I did when I got to it was disable its camera without destroying it (those robots were expensive even with all the other tech available here, especially the lastest models of 1999), and then make VEGA intercept the last images it recorded. Nothing we could do with those already recorded and sent. On its side it had a blue ball with a black L, kinda similar to the NASA symbol.
Kinda, because instead of 'NASA, it had 'LexCorp' blazened right in the middle.
Well, damn, I really hoped it was just NASA watching over me, instead of the private company of Superman-hating Baldie that most definitely had an interest in me, or rather my stuff. I wasn't surprised he could afford to make his own space program and 'rent' their machines, however, since he was filthy rich, ambitious as fuck, and actually made the discovery of my location public. Something that, again, I didn't know of at first until I asked VEGA to tap the Internet and saw the Fortress on a TV screen.
Yeah, people could see not just the Fortress, but also the stuff the drones were building on the area around it which fortunately hadn't yet reached the point where it was obvious what they were making. And no, it wasn't weapons.
That could not be allowed. They already knew I was doing something on their proverbial backyard (they already had the capacity to go to Mars), I did not want them to know WHAT exactly I was doing before being able to explain myself to them, lest they accidentally started World War Three out of fear of me or even dumber reasons.
After mentally kicking myself in the head for being so fucking careless, I composed myself. The situation was still very much salvageable, and not only that, I could also use it to show off a bit of my capabilities. Well, VEGA's, but they didn't know I had an AI with me.
"Vega, sweep the area to see if there are more rovers, and if there are hit them with an EMP wave. I don't want any more uninvited guests spying on us."
"As you command."
It turned out there were indeed other rovers heading our direction, five in total: three from NASA, one from Russia, and the last one from LexCorp. After VEGA disabled them, I made the drones bring them all to me. Then, I took them back to where they came from, starting with LexCorp's own space program.
Stepping out of the portal, I found myself in a veritable pandemonium, specifically one taking place in a room that looked awfully similar to NASA's mission control, with researchers, engineers, scientists and such ilk crying and running around. Apparently they did not expect their second rover to just come offline just like that, and were trying to fix the problem, not knowing that an EMP had fried its circuits. Some of them did see me and understandable freaked out, but the others were too busy being already freaked out to notice me. I merely stood and watched how the situation unfolded.
"What the heck happened?!" The head honcho of the place screamed at the others. I think he already asked that even before I came, he simply was hysteric to no end. "Why is the other not responding?!"
"We do not know sir, it sorted out somehow!" A technician responded as he frantically tried to raise the connection with the rover. "It's not responding!"
"I know that you idiot! I'm asking HOW did it sort out!" The man screamed as he grabbed the technician by the neck and shook him.
"Again, we don't know!" The poor devil managed to spew out as his throat was being compressed.
"Luthor will have my head if you don't fix this! Just sending them to Mars costed four billions!" The leader screamed before throwing his victim aside and pulling on his hair. I swear the guy actually ripped strands out of his own hair. "And we lost BOTH of them!"
"We oughta be more worried about the spaceman realizing we've been recording him and his house for three days." An engineer snidely pointed out. "Didn't you see how fast he ran at Explorer-1?"
"Johnson, that brute hadn't done anything during those-" One of the scientists that had yet to see me standing there began to say before another, one of the few that DID, tapped her in the shoulder. "What is it?"
The man merely pointed at me with a shaky arm. The woman, annoyed by his attitude, turned around to see what he was scared of… and froze still when she saw me standing right there with them, rovers over the shoulder.
They stared at me for a few seconds, before I dropped their toy on the ground and turned around. The sound of several hundred pounds of metal and wires finally made everyone realize they had a guest, but said guest was already leaving.
"Wait!" I heard one of the technicians scream. That was the last I heard before I crossed the portal.
Why did I deliver their toys to them in person, instead of just shoving the rovers through a portal to their location, as I did with NASA and the russians? To scare them and make sure they wouldn't try to spy on me again, but without actually being violent, of course. Of course, I'd have known if they had tried to do it again the moment LexCorp sent a rocket to space, but it was the sentiment of the act what counted.
Unfortunately, because of Lex's toy now everyone knew that the mysterious green soldier who had been saving lives across the world had his home on Mars, and was also doing something there. You will not believe the million conspiracies it spawned, and how many of them were eerily close to DOOM's lore: that I was a martian, that humanity originally came from Mars, that I was a soldier from the future…
Sadly, all action has consequences, mine included, and in my case it involved a certain kryptonian and his friends landing on Mars, just a mere mile away from the Fortress, wanting to know… several things, really, now that he could actually do so: the classic 'who are you' and 'where are you from', the understandable 'why are you so brutal', and so on and so on.
So, yeah, Superman had given the the components of the pod that brought him to Earth to S.T.A.R Labs so they'd build him a functional spaceship.
Fortunately, I HAD already planned to get him to come here to talk to him. He didn't know it, but he just made that part easier for me.
At Mars' Surface
It happened three days after LexCorp broadcasted what their rover found on Mars.
After some prodding from both Bruce and the press for various reasons, chief among them being the need to know why was there an unknown base on Mars and fearful of the proximity of the place to Earth, Clark decided to make a visit to the mysterious soldier after finding out where he was hiding at.
Or more accurately, as they already had an idea of, stationed at.
"Never thought Luthor would be the one finding his hideout." Kara said outloud as she, Clark and John overlooked the most outlandish sight they had ever set their gazes upon, to the point they still couldn't believe it even after having watched it on screen back on Earth.
A fortress that looked straight out from the most cliché fantasy world, essentially a gothic architechture-style keep with several smaller towers connected to it… which was also surrounded by a veritable industrial zone that, in turn, looked like it could fit in Star Wars. Tlying drones of various shapes and sizes moved around carrying materials, building something that resembled machinery, but the manufacturing of these had not reached the point where Clark might know what kind they were.
And all of it was happening on the surface of Mars, and for at least three days, clearly much more given the extension of the area.
"Well, I never thought I'd see an honest to God castle and a whole industrial district in Mars. At least in my life." John replied as he hefted his hammer over his shoulder, muttering the last part. "The place has to be at least as big as a football field. And what is he building here, for that matter?"
"I have no idea." Clark replied. What John didn't know was that the immediatly thought: 'I just hope it's not an army'
"Just what is he doing there?" Kara wondered outloud.
Clark, who just like Kara wore one of the spacesuits that S.T.A.R Labs had made for them (John's armor was both sealed and equipped with oxygen tanks), began to ponder, not over the man's reasons to making an industrial zone in Mars, but about both about what to do next, and about the man they had come to see in person.
At first, he didn't do much, stopping a robbery here, a kidnapping attempt there, an out of control train over there… As a matter of fact, it was exactly what he himself had done countless times before, if a bit more… exciting, for lack of a better word, what with the soldier apparently lacking the capacity to fly, and therefore taking longer to stop the crimes.
But then, the first 'heroic thing' he did, if it could even be called that, included ripping a man's jaw off, apparently without caring if the man lived or died.
On the one hand, said man, an ex-mayor by the name of Luigi Bianchi or something, had shot off a woman's leg with a high-powered rifle. Maybe the soldier was the kind of 'an eye for an eye' vigilante? Possible, but on the other hand he didn't kill any of the robbers that helped Metallo and King Shark over a week before. Besides, Luigi hadn't died, and while some people understandably didn't like having a man able to do that do whatever he wanted, the rest didn't seem to mind, or care for that matter, as long as he didn't actually kill them. Clark himself included.
Despite what many people thought, however, Superman, or rather Clark Kent, didn't have anything against those who wanted to walk the extra mile when it came to crime. He knew that some people just could not be reformed the easy way, or at all. He simply preferred that the justice system took care of them (like a certain corrupt detective who got his comeuppance after getting an innocent man sent to the gas chamber after framing him; fortunately Clark saved him in time), instead of gun-toting vigilantes who had decided to take the law into their own hands.
Clark shook his head in amusement at himself. A vigilante was exactly what he and his friends were, they simply didn't use firearms, nor killed for that matter.
Still, it didn't change the fact this 'Green Soldier', as some had begun to call him, was a bit more on the violent side than every other hero on Earth. That, combined with the superhuman strength he had displayed, the fact he used a clearly lethal weapon, and the revelation he had essentially colonized Mars made people uneasy, which was one of the reasons they had come: to prove the people of Earth the Green Soldier was not a threat.
After all, if Superman himself saw nothing wrong about the Green Soldier, that meant there was nothing to worry about, and people would stop believing he could be a menace.
Or at least that was he hoped.
"So, any idea of what our mysterious friend is doing here?" John asked him, his gaze not moving from the base. "I'm fairly certain I already asked that, but I can't exactly pinch my cheeks."
"That is why we're here, John. C'mon, let's if he's home." With that Clark began to walk down the dune and headed towards the castle, followed by his companions.
Up close, the working zone seemed even bigger, with machine moving to and fro carrying materials and debri, while others constructed. However, they didn't do so in a chaotic matter, but methodically and in an organized way. Granted, they WERE machines, but Clark had expected things to be a bit more, well, hectic, to say the least. They didn't seem to react to their presence, which to him meant they didn't see them as a threat. That was good, since it meant their owner didn't either.
The most interesting fact, however, was the lack of smoke. Lots of dust being stirred in the air, but no actual fumes.
"And I thought Detroit was a manufacturer's dream." Kara mused as they walked through what seemed to be some kind of path that went across the construction sites, a well travelled one by the looks of it.
"It is." John retorted with wonder in his voice. It was clear he wanted to inspect the works more closely, but time and caution wouldn't let him. "This is a manufacturer's Heaven. Still, I wonder where did he get the metal to build all of this. Didn't see mines or quarries from above."
Clark, having been in extraterrestial space several times before, had an idea. "Most likely from the asteroid belt. Just one of them contains several thousand tons of cobalt, nickel, platinum and iron. And by the looks of it, he's been busy for quite a while."
"Which again brings up back to the beginning: why does he need so much metal."
Eventually, they finally reached the front of the castle after a minute or two of walking. There was a small problem, however: now that they were right in front of it, the group saw that the castle lacked gates, or doors that led inside of it. It did have large windows at the front, but they opaque and somehow x-ray proof like the soldier's armor had been, and Clark did not want to offend the Green Soldier by breaking them just to get in.
"So" Kara began to say. ", do we knock on the walls, or hail the lord of the place, or whatever greeting is used for castles without gates?"
"You know, I thought he'd be greeting us in person." John said as he looked up and down the anachronistic building. "He had to have seen us land."
"Maybe he's not home?"
Clark, thinking of what to do next, was about to reply when he heard the steps of something heavy walking up behind them in a methodical matter. At first he thought it was a robot until he realized he couldn't heard anything that resembled mechanical noises.
Right behind the three, staring at them with the martian sun behind him, stood the Green Soldier.
Kara, confused by the silence of her cousin, turned around to talk to him and saw the man standing right behind them. A gasp from her made John look, and frown when he saw the Green Soldier. However, and to Clark's relief, he didn't do anything with his hammer that could be considered a threat by the man. After all, they had technically entered his property without his permission.
After recovering from the surprise, Clark was the first one speak "Hello. We just want to… talk?"
Instead of replying directly, the man called (or conjured) one of his wormholes and then gave them a long look before crossing it. It was obvious he wanted them to follow him, but to where, and why? They knew he could speak.
After sharing a look of both apprehension and excitement by this turn of events none of them expected to happen, the three superheroes entered the portal, exiting into what seemed to be a combination of a medieval hall and a spaceship's bridge bathed in blue artificial light, with several computer terminals and their screens. It was clear they were inside the castle.
"Okay, I have to admit this is cool." John said as he looked around the place, Kara repyling with a 'yep' .
The Man of Steel, however, was focused on their 'host'. "So… do you remember us, big guy?" Clark asked the Green Soldier after pulling off his helmet, Kara following suit.
The soldier stared at her for a few seconds, which to Clark seemed an eternity, before speaking. "Of course I do."
Clark flinched. His voice was as deep and growling as he remembered, but just like then it wasn't actually threatening in tone. He probably spoke like that all the time. He then released a sigh of relief he didn't know he was hiding. "You might already know about us, but we want to introduce ourselves. I'm Superman, she's Supergirl, and he's Steel. We're here because the people of Earth asked us to see if, well, you were a threat or not. That, and several other reasons, but that one's the most important. Again, I think you might know the rest."
Again, the soldier did nothing but stare at them, before speaking once more. "I know my… heroics, and me returning the rovers has scared people."
Before Clark could continue, Kara went ahead of him "Could you tell us your name? I Not your real name, of course."
The soldier stared at her for a couple seconds, causing the argonian girl to fidget under his gaze, before replying. "Slayer."
"'Slayer'?" Kara repeated, both confused by the nickname… and a bit uneasy given the fact it was literally an archaic name for 'killer'.
"Doom Slayer." The soldier replied, apparently to clarify.
"Oh, the Slayer of Doom then." John noted, mirth laced in his voice. Unlike Clark or Kara, he seemed to be more at ease with being in a strange place and with a strange, superstrong man. "Isn't it a bit corny, though? Sounds like the name of a death metal band."
The Green Soldier, now named 'Doom Slayer', merely shrugged. "That's my designation. Stay here." He then turned around and walked off to somewhere into the castle.
'Didn't even have time to to say stop' Clark thought morosely before sighing and joining the others in their inspection the room. Indeed, it was fascinating to see such a combination of medieval architechture and technology that was at least a hundred years ahead of Earth's, very possibly farther than that, not counting the screens. Further inside the room, they could see two glowing devices that seemed to be advanced displays of some sort, both of them empty despite being on.
"You know, for a guy who looks straight out of a shooter, he's pretty quiet." Kara noted as she pressed her hands against the window, gazing upon the construction sites below.
"Yeah." John agreed. "Hey, he actually reminds me of the Marathon guy, all green, silent and armored from head to toe."
"You play Marathon?" Clark asked, surprised that his friend played the game, not because it was violent, but because he simply didn't seem to be the type.
At this, John shrugged "Everyone needs a hobby, and mine isn't reading."
"The Doom Slayer prefers to speak only when absolutely necessary." A voice spoke suddenly from… practially everywhere around them. And by the synthetic sound it carried, it was obvious it wasn't Doom Slayer.
"Who said that?" John demanded, sledgehammer hefted on his hands. Kara likewise did as he had, adopting a fighting stance. Only Clark remained at ease, again not wanting to anger Doom Slayer or whatever had spoken.
One of the screens close to Clark lit up, showing a blue-coloured sigil made of three parts surrounding a sphere. "I did. Hello, I am VEGA, the sentient intelligence assigned to the Fortress of Doom." The voice said once more, now identified as an AI named VEGA.
"An artificial intelligence?" Clark said as he looked at the screen, interested by the fact Doom Slayer had an AI watching over his base. Despite his previous bouts with Brainiac, he was actually quite interested in artificial intelligences and robots. It helped that the voice of the AI was soothing and friendly, rather than the menacing monotone of the kryptonian AI.
"Wait, did you just call this place the 'Fortress of Doom'?" John said in an amused tone, stiffling a chuckle. "Is he Future He-Man or something?"
Kara rolled her eyes, although she too was smiling. "With those biceps of his, he might as well be, you know."
"He is not, Miss Kent." 'VEGA' said, making Kara's eyes widen in shock, and so did Clark and John's. After all, no one was supposed to know that Supergirl was Kara Kent, much less an AI.
"How do you-" She began to say before the AI spoke once more.
"We have our secrets, you have yours." Had anyone else spoke those words they would have had a darker undertone, but thanks to VEGA's voice it sounded like he was merely teasing her in a friendly manner. Clark even imagined the AI wink at them with a smile.
Just like Bruce Wayne did when he revealed he knew his identity as the Man of Steel and revealed his own as Batman to him, although he didn't remember him smiling; in fact, he was fairly certain he was frowning.
While Doom Slayer was away in the depths of his 'Fortress of Doom', The trio had many questions to ask his AI, hoping that it would answer them ranging from where they came from to why, exactly, was Doom Slayer named that way, questions they promptly began to ask VEGA. Unfortunately, VEGA's response to each and every one of them was the same.
"The Slayer will answer your questions."
John, after getting the same response for the twelfth time, groaned in exasperation and pinched the ridge of his helmet. "Are we sure this VEGA isn't faulty or anything?"
"I assure you Mr. Irons, I'm fully functional." It replied with a sincere tone. "I'm merely not allowed to answer your questions."
"But why not?" Kara asked, her arms folded over her chest.
"Because I have my own questions to ask." The heard the rumbling voice of Doom Slayer say as he walked inside the room, with something clutched on his left fist.
"Do you know anything about this symbol?" He said when he finally walked to them, raising his clutched hand to Clark and opening it to show what it was, a scorched shard of steel.
Clark, giving the piece of metal a closer look, frowned when he saw what it was: a small, carved red trident. He didn't know what exactly it meant, but just the fact it had a trident on it didn't bode well with him.
"What is that?" Kara asked as she looked at the piece of metal.
" A piece of the explosive device the Slayer found inside the locomotive he stopped in Germany." He heard VEGA say.
"'Explosive device'?" Clark whispered with dawning horror. "You mean there was a bomb inside the train?!"
"Several actually." VEGA replied nonchalantly, causing the three's eyes to wide in shock and horror of what could have happened. "That said, however, they weren't designed to fully destroy the vehicle, only make sure it wouldn't stop in time before it derailed."
"Thanks for telling us this… but why?"
"The trident means leads to one man." Doom Slayer replied. Clark already had an idea of who was he speaking about, what with the trident: Arthur Curry, or as the knew him Aquaman, King of the Seven Kingdoms "Do you know him?"
Clark didn't like where this conversation was going, and the implications it had. Arthur was indeed prejudiced against surface dwellers despite being both partly one by his father's side and raised as one, but not to the point of deliberately causing an accident. Besides, what would he have accomplished by derailing a single train well away from the ocean, aside from killing hundreds of people? "You could say he's an acquaintance of mine, yes."
"He's a bit obsessed with people throwing trash into the sea, but aside from that an alright guy if you respect him." Kara added.
"Will you talk to him about this?" Before Clark could even open his mouth, Doom Slayer raised a hand "I'm not accussing him, I only want to know if he knows something about this… and make sure he has nothing to do with the sabotage." This time, his voice did sound deliberately menacing.
"In the hypothetical case he does in fact have anything to do with the sabotage, what would you do?" Clark asked.
"In that case, Mister Curry would be arrested, then delivered to either the German Republic or United Nations to be trialed for international terrorism, and then dealt with accordingly. And while we do recognize the Kingdom of Atlantis as a country, the Slayer is willing to ignore the law to bring him to justice."
The three looked at each other. THAT, technically bending the law rather than completely ignoring it, wasn't exactly what they thought a violent vigilante would do. Then again, the only real violent vigilante they knew of was Batman who, while nowhere brutal enough to rip a man's jaw off, was still quite happy to snap knees, break fingers, and otherwise do anything short of actually killing to criminals. As for the rest, the best they could hope was that Aquaman was not involved.
"Now, I will answer some of your questions, and then you leave."
'Well, it's bettter than nothing.' Clark thought as they began asking.
So, how is it going for now? Did I write the heroes and their reaction to the Fortress of Doom and VEGA right? For those that most definitely know more than me about the judicial system, what I wrote is merely a gross simplification to keep the story going… and because ripping Aquaman's head (and maybe making him bleed armor and health points, who knows) without any proof is not the Slayer's way.
Questions concerning things like the right of building on Mars and more will be revealed next chapter (with tweaks for the DC characters).
Last edited: Aug 3, 2021
The Mission
Superman's visit was… quiet, for lack of a better word. We simply spoke about me and what I was doing there in Mars, what would I do, and the thing with Aquaman.
First, rather than tell you the entire converstation I had with the three, I'll sum it up. I told them certain things, basically actual truths twisted a bit:
-That I was a super soldier from another, more advanced alternate Earth, one that had been attacked by interdimensional invaders that wanted Sol's resources. We won, but I was sent here to make sure the invaders wouldn't try it again, only I ended up in their dimension.
-The Fortress of Doom looked liked that because originally it was a 13th-century keep that had been hastily upgraded. As for the name, one technician jokingly called it that and the nickaname stuck.
-I landed the Fortress on Mars because, frankly, it wasn't like Earth had yet to claim it (yet), and it was the perfect not-hiding place since only Superman had the means to get to it without a portal.
And I did NOT tell them certain other things, partly because they would have freaked out, partly because given how outlandish it seems, they might have not believed me, or might have not like it one bit:
-The 'interdimensional invaders' were demons from biblical Hell that wanted souls.
-The Fortress was neither from Earth, nor powered by technology alone. It was also armed to the teeth, but I had hidden the weapons before the arrived to not make them feel uneasy about me and my intentions.
-That the Fortress was protected by enough weaponry to turn New York to either glass or a crater in less than a minute. Fortunately, I had the foresight to hide them all, and neither kryptonian could see through the walls. I did tell them the constructions outside were defenses, which in fact they weren't, but when they complained about it I retorted I had every right to protect my house.
And then the three asked me what, exactly, I wanted to do. I think it's finally time I told you what I decided to do, which I hadn't complately told Superman.
My objective, the one not even you had an idea of? Protect Earth and its inhabitants from any and all threats that people like Superman couldn't, AND help them advance in the fields they had yet to progress. For the former statement, since I had yet to meet the native demons, and DOOM's hadn't appeared, this meant things like aliens, natural disasters, supervillains, and the rest. Why? Several reasons, the chiefest of them all me not wanting to spend the rest of my life here just stopping bank robberies and trains instead of doing something more impactful.
As for the advancement of mankind, I was just sick tired of Earth being invaded by significantly more advanced alien civilizations, enough that their military couldn't do anything to stop them and had to rely on Superman, and eventually the Justice League to repel them. True, it had only happened only once before I arrived, and given the nature of the invaders it was technically a demon invasion too, but the point remaine. No, if anyone dared to invade my planet, they would be greeted with the barrels of railguns, plasma cannons and lasers, weapons they already had, placed on armored, shielded spaceships. They would have to be mine, but still, you get the point.
Besides, even if Earth couldn't make a space navy before anything happened, with my intervention, they would still be able to defend themselves in some way. Like making orbital defense stations aimed towards space.
And yes, I did think of the possiblity of Earth's countries using anything new they made against each other, which was why instead of weapons, I would merely give them things that could not be weaponized… or were already weapons but had not yet 'civilianized', like nuclear fusion.
One of the things VEGA had built outside? A fusion reactor. Not for us of course, but to test something. What something, you will see soon, but it was also related to one of the projects I was inmersed in: human colonization of the solar system, Mars included. Not to get there since they already had the technology, but to live there: an already built reactor would smooth things out when they did. First, though, we had to see if engineers back on Earth had the capacity to build something similar, and they did; they just needed the right push.
You might be wondering, why bother if you can just stop any possible invasion by yourself if needed? Why not? They have the right to be able to defend themselves. Aside from that, as powerful as I am and despite the teleporting, I cannot be everywhere at once. Besides, it would also better their lives, not just their capacity to fight.
First, however, I had to fully convince the world that I was a good person, which, naturally, would be hard.
And it would end up becoming harder.
After the three went back to Earth, I had nothing else to do that did not involve stopping crimes and saving lives around the world, which for three days straight I did. At that point, the public had begun getting used to me, still calling me Green Soldier and otherwise still wondering what I wanted.
Look, I have to be honest with you, at that moment I was also growing a bit tired. Of what, you might be wondering? Of doing nothing but heroics for several weeks? Of being as cryptic as possible even when no one was here on Mars?
Nope, of being unable to kill anything without the public making it seem like I'm a monster.
I mean, I'm motherfucking DOOMGUY, and a soldier to boot. What was the point of having an entire arsenal of BFGs, enough strength to support an apartment block', and a wrist-blade the length of my arm, if I couldn't unleash such firepower on the wicked? I didn't even think of doing that to your common mugger, and not just for the public reaction, but if did kill, say, a serial killer by either ripping his head off or popping it with the assault cannon, people would still label me as a murderer, or at least a madman obsessed with the law or something like that.
So would Batman and Superman. I did not fear either of them, but as sure as Hell didn't want them against me in any way, ever. Interestingly, they only cared if I might kill someone or not, not if criminals I bagged died by either the chair or the shiv. That… didn't amount to much, but at least served to prove they weren't your cliché 'killing is wrong' parodies starring in many fics.
On the other hand, Joker was still alive despite having a killcount in the double digits. Oh, right, I forgot: he was 'insane' and required treatment that only Arkham could provide. Incidentally, Harley Quinn had yet to appear in scene, but doctor Harleen Quinzel was seemingly 'interested' in him. Yeah, interested. Don't worry, I had plans to get to Krusty the Killer Klown and make sure he wouldn't pose a threat to anyone permanently, but first I had to solve other problems before taking care of him.
Okay, let's get back to my problem. I did try to satiate my anger by asking VEGA to create a robot for me to fight and train with. No ripatorium to give demons to, well, rip and tear, so I had to do with what I had. Besides, I wanted to see if I could find some martial art that would befit someone like me, since as strong as I was, I knew that sooner or later I would end up facing as strong as me, and just brute forcing my way wouldn't cut it.
Long story short, I did find one: pankration.
I'm not going to explain you everything about it, so to keep it short is basically greek mixed wrestling where everything is allowed, up to actually killing the oponent, as long as you didn't step out of bounds, bite your opponent, or gouged their eyes out (sans in Sparta, because they were spartans). I even believe a maybe historical, maybe fictional match ended with one of the fighers gutted, and obviously killed, but victorious anyway because his killer put a foot outside of the circle. If you think that pankration doesn't seem to be an actual martial art, it still requires some skill to pull off, putting on stances and all that.
Or, to sum it up, brutal wrestling. VERY brutal wrestling.
Still, that only solved the physical fighting, not the dakka one. I had only used a weapon three times, and even then it was only the plasma rifle. I know, I know, I told you I didn't want to leave empty cases or used bullets for either secret agencies or Batman to find, but when you have that many guns displayed on your bedroom, and only holograms to train, you start having the need to shoot them at something that could die, and something that needed tungsten to be properly killed.
I really, REALLY needed targets that people wouldn't mind if they died… or how.
You may already guess where I'm getting at.
Well, a completely dialogue-free chapter, and very possibly of lower quality than the previous ones. I'll try my best in the future, but expect more like this.
Question: how strong would someone with the strength of sixty vikings? Not related to the story, but I watched Beowulf and then read he has the strength of thirty men in each arm somewhere (well, hand, but the point's the same), and that made me wonder…
Last edited: Aug 7, 2021
The World's Reaction
Saying that the news that Superman had brought back to Earth, that the Green Soldier was in truth a super soldier from another universe, one far more advanced than theirs by his technology, had shaken the world's most powerful people to its core, would be severely understating it. Some liked it, having someone as advanced as him watching over their world in case more invaders they could not fight off came. Others wanted to interview the man in person, if only to have the scoop of the century.
Others, like the U.S military and several others, did not like at all the fact there was an independent military base literally at Earth's doorstep, with no current way to reach it aside from some privileged few that were NOT military themselves… and had no real way to defend themselves against in case he was lying about his intentions. And even that was when they actually believed his outlandish claims of being from another universe altogether, instead of being an alien himself who merely looked like a human being, like Superman was.
They were not the only ones thinking that, either, just the most outspoken.
In Metropolis, on one of LexCorp's tower many, many offices, a certain CEO was rewatching scenes of the Green Soldier, now revealed as 'Doom Slayer', doing what the little-minded would have considered heroics, from stopping a train by using himself as a brake to holding up a building so that the people trapped inside could escape.
"Just like that damnable alien." He grunted as he watched the man seemingly waste his life in being a 'hero'. "Only with combat armor. And a plasma cannon."
And he wasn't foolish. If Superman was telling the truth, this universe-displaced soldier merely wanted to protect Earth from outside attacks… but how, would he do that? With just his strength (which was admitedly high, but hasn't proved to be to actually match Superman's), some energy weapon, and whatever he was building on his frontyard?
Lex scoffed. He probably had some kind of weapon hidden within his home, maybe even an entire armoury! And who the Hell called himself DOOM Slayer if they were, supposedly, a hero?
After three days of watching the Doom Slayer's home and his machines build up what the man himself admitted were weapons, Luthor desperately wanted to take a closer look to both the Doom Slayer's technology and home, but at the same time, he didn't want to test his luck. After all, this man could open a wormhole from Mars to Earth just to deliver two rovers. And something told Lex that the wormhole's actual range had to be even greater than just a couple AUs.
'A waste of power, if there was one' Lex thought with annoyance, thinking of the potential uses of a wormhole generator. 'And protect Earth? All he needs to do is to actually do it is open a portal to the Sun and punt Superman through, and yet he hasn't!'
Worse still, there simply was no way for him to manipulate, trick or otherwise control the man in any way that would benefit him.
"No money, no blackmail, no ambition, not even some code of honour, nothing!" Lex muttered to himself, angry that there was someone he could not exploit in some way or manner; even Superman's actions could be taken advantage of in some way! Fights a 'stolen' battlesuit? Use the data to make a stronger one. Drives a man obsessed with him? 'Enhance' the man to put him on equal ground with the alien.
But you couldn't get anything from a man that came out of a blue portal and then leaves less than a few minutes later and in another continent to boot, and all he got from spying Doom Slayer's HQ was some audience for his own channel, and he only founded it because of a whim he had forgotten about!
Then, there was the willingness he had to hurt people. True, the worst he had done was ripping that italian guy's jaw off, but no known vigilante had ever tried to be that brutal, not even the Batman himself, and he was known for snapping knees, crushing hands, and otherwise being quite willing to cripple people, although not permanently.
He shuddered when he imagined himself being at the wrong end of that kind of strength.
All that thinking and being unable to do anything gave him a headache.
Sighing, Lex forced himself to calm down and. He had yet to see the full capabilities of Doom Slayer. First he'd wait, and then if the soldier did something else than just standing and letting bullets hit him or lift buildings he would do… well, something about it. In the meantime…
"Mercy, please bring me some water and aspirine."
In a mountain fortress located in the Middle East, a tall goateed man with green eyes, wearing a simple green cape over opulent tunics, looked at a screen with interest as the so called Doom Slayer stood up after being hit with a rocket, without even a scratch on his armor. The man looked to be in his fifties, but in truth he was old enough to have participated in the siege of Constantinople; in fact, were it not for his intervention on Mehmed II's behalf, the city and the empire would have been able to resist the Ottomans' onslaught. Sadly, the man had decided that the last vestiges of the Roman Empire to give Europe the chance to progress without having a constant reminder of its barbaric past right on their doorstep.
That, and because of the man's disdain and loathing for the Greek Empire.
Ra's al Ghul, the Demon's Head, founder and immortal leader of the League of Assassins, formed to bring peace and harmony to the world by any means, be it destroying entire civilizations or simple murder of state heads.
And he was interested by what he was seeing. Not since he had found out the existence of the Lazarus' Pits and his first encounter with Batman, or as he called himself Bruce Wayne, had he been interested in something.
Standing beside him was Ubu, a mountain of a man and the latest of a line of loyal bodyguards. In truth, he did not really need protection, but the first Ubu had been his brother in arms and died protecting Ra's from a Teutonic blade, and wanted to honour his sacrifice. Neither Talia or Nyssa, his daughters, were with him at the moment, travelling the world in search of recruits and doing work respectively.
"Fascinating." He whispered as LexCorp's rover recorded the man's fortress from atop a martian dune. "If only he used but a percentage of that strength and technology to do as his name indicated." Indeed, why call oneself Doom Slayer if they did not fullfil the second half of their name, despite clearly being able to do so?
Despite what others might have thought, however, he didn't believe that this Doom Slayer could be a possible heir: he had yet to demonstrate a sign of actual intelligence, that whatever he was building was born out of his mind. Bruce would still be either his heir, or his heir's progenitor, no matter how advanced or powerful this Doom Slayer was, and nothing would change his mind… but Ra's could still get something out of him. Perhaps he could be the future Ubu, with his astonishing strength and technology? Maybe even giving his knowledge to the League of Assasins to enhance their potential?
"Just imagine it Ubu, the might of a titan obeying the intellect of a god." He muttered, already imagining the potential of such a man being part of the League as its new Demon's Head servant.
The current Ubu, however, wasn't so sure. "Master, am I allowed to voice my opinion on the matter?"
The Demon's Head glanced back at his bodyguard and nodded. He had specifically chosen the new Ubu to be incredibly loyal to him, yet also still independent and honest when it came to his personal opinion. Ra's made sure of choosing him after the previous one blindly did as he told him, something that ended with his premature death.
"This new man is completely unknown to us, and given everything we know of him he's anything but some brute that can be tricked; even then, we have yet to meet him in person and discern more of him. We must be cautious, and have patience."
Ra's stared at his faithful servant for a moment, before sighing. He was right, they needed to know more about this soldier from another Earth before doing anything.
"We shall wait, then, for the perfect opportunity to act."
On another part of the world, once again in the United States, an african-american woman was doing the same. She was Amanda Waller, head of a secret branch of the U.S government founded after Superman's brief stint as alien conqueror, dedicated to recruit individuals with the goal of stopping other alien attacks should they happen, willingly or not, like she had done with Deathstroke two years prior.
Unlike either the multibillionaire or the century-old mastermind, however, Amanda Waller had no intention to include Doom Slayer in the Task Force X, aka Suicide Squad, for the simple reason he was simply too powerful to control, they couldn't follow him to Mars (at least yet), and it was obvious he was no mercenary they could hire or buy off. Besides, as much as she loathed doing nothing, Superman himself said he wanted nothing more than the welfare of Earth, something they could agree upon.
Then, there was the fact he apparently came to their Earth to stop an interdimensional invasion. Had he come two years ago she would have taken the statements, including his own claims of being from another dimension with a grain of salt, but after the Superman fiasco, everything was possible, and the last thing the world needed was for Doom Slayer to feel alienated and. He said their dimension was safe, but she hadn't got her position for being naive.
Of course, that would not stop her from monitorizing the man every time he came to Earth. Or spy his house from a very long distance.
"How is the research on those cloaked drones going?"
This repeated itself across Earth, with many, many people wondering about Doom Slayer and what his presence implied. Some merely saw another hero in him, if a particularly nasty one. Others saw a threat just waiting for them to show weakness before striking. Others still were worried about the interdimensional creatures that had invaded his Earth and could have followed him to theirs.
None of them knew that VEGA was monitoring them.
Did I write the characters right? As for why did I choose Luthor, Ra's al Ghul and Waller, it's because Luthor was the one who broadcasted the Fortress' existence to the world, Ra's would be naturally interested in someone like the Slayer, and Waller (who's essentially Arkham's Amanda; Cadmus hasn't been formed yet) is being savvy enough to understand that they can't coerce DS to, well, do what they want, at least not yet.
Last edited: Aug 10, 2021
Meeting the King of the Seven Seas
So, Luthor and Gul thought they could use me, uh? Sure, neither of them knew of VEGA (as a matter of fact, no one sans Clark, Kara and John did), but still, given how paranoid/intelligent they were they could have at least thought about the possibility of me having an AI. Waller, though? She was smart and decided to leave me be for the moment, at least until she got cloaked drones or something like sent to Mars.
Pff, as if: the only reason Lex got so close was that I forgot about Mars' missions; after that I made VEGA scan the whole planet and its orbit constantly to make sure we wouldn't be caught off guard again.
So, after yet another week of me saving people, fighting crime and being mysterious, VEGA found something.
"Slayer, I discovered something that will interest you."
Io an behold, VEGA's 'something' did in fact interest me: it was Clark talking to a tall blonde whose buff chest was free for all to see, with an outrageous beard covering his face and carrying a trident, both standing on a forested beach located in the Eastern Coast. I thought it was your average secret conversation away from prying eyes, until the camera zoomed out to sho the submarine-sized atlantean warship and a company of atlantean soldiers lined across the beach. Why did Aquaman bring a small army just to talk with his friend?
"It seems that Mr. Kent wishes for Mr. Curry to communicate with us, but lacks the capacity to do so outside of bringing him to Mars on his ship."
"And the entourage?"
"Apparently they are afraid."
"Afraid? Afraid of what?"
"That the U.S military might not take well to their presence."
Well, what do you know, the people that claimed they could wiped out the surface considered a technologically inferior country dangerous enough that their king had to be accompanied by a company and their equivalent of an AT-AT.
Yeah, I used the AT-AT as a comparison.
So, it was time to meet yet another superhero from this world. Just to dick with them, I opened a portal underwater. However, before I did that, I 'disabled' the ship's weapons without the crew noticing with help from VEGA. Why? Well, read further and you'll understand.
After doing the deed and just as my head surfaced, I heard Clark talk to Aquaman, obviously talking about me.
"I don't care if some man from space does not like me." I heard Aquaman say. He was facing Clark, and so where his troops, and the sand muffled my steps so they didn't either see or hear me walk out of the sea.
"And I'm telling you that he's… standing right behind your army?" Clark said when he finally saw me, what with me being the tallest person there. Aquaman followed his gaze, and saw a most ridiculous sight? What did he see, you might ask?
Why, of course, me shoving my way through the line his surprised men.
The troops farther from me raised their weapons and took aim the moment I was away from them, but I ignored them as I walked towards their king and the kryptonian. I mean, what are some shitty, water-powered rayguns compared to the might of Hell?
Sadly, one of them did not like me treating his boys like bowling pins: the general, the guy with the most pimped out armor. Yes, not a general, but the general, the second highest rank in Atlantis' military. Why did the king of the Seven Seas bring his second in command with him for some 'maneuvers'? Was he actually afraid of the supposedly interdimensional space marine? No idea.
It provided me a way to show what kind of man I was to them, though.
"Stay away from the King of Atlantis, surface dweller!" The guy said, but I blatantly ignored him as I shoved him aside. He screamed some more before grabbing my arm. The poor fool thought he was strong enough to stop me. "Didn't you hear me?!"
I didn't even bother to look at him before acting.
The moron only managed to speak some more before I grabbed his hand (had to hold myself, else I'd have pulverized the bones), pulled out the doomblade, and held it against his neck, all in one second. He didn't even have time to scream.
Well, he did, but a little cut made clear that he'd end up losing his Adam's apple… and that at the very, very minimum.
"One more word, I'll cut your head off." I growled at him before giving a little push. Okay, it wasn't exactly little given he kinda flew towards the water, but I used the minimum effort possible: any higher, and he would have ended with several broken bones, regardless of his supposedly superhumanly thick skin and dense bones.
Which, as later turned out, weren't THAT thick or dense. Just not with the moron.
"That man is my general." Aquaman growled as I walked up to them. Apparently he had balls of steel, because he was willing to 'threaten' a man a foot taller than him, twice as broad at the shoulders as he was, armored from head to toe and uncaring if he was being aimed at by thirty soldiers with 'hydro-pulse rifles', VEGA said they were called.
Might as well be glorified water guns compared to even the pistol. Mostly because one of them shot at me when I reached Clark and Aquaman, either accidentally or deliberately, and this caused a chain reaction that ended with most of them shooting in my general direction. The plasma strikes did made me flinch, but by now you already know most weapons from Earth just couldn't hurt me, so instead of retaliating I stood there and shrugged the barrage.
Aquaman didn't, and the only reason he didn't get hit by a stray shot was that Clark put him behind him. Fun facts: Aquaman is what could be considered a 'glass cannon': he's strong even for an atlantean, and his trident is quite sharp (and because it's magical in nature it can hurt Clark), but normal guns can hurt him if he's not wearing that scalemail of his, so naturally anything stronger than a hunting rifle can actually kill him if he goes barechested like that.
Imagine what could have happened if I hadn't disabled the cruiser, whose crew also went crazy and tried to fry me despite their king standing literally right in front of me. Fortunately, that also meant I shielded him from the mangic shooting.
"Stop your fire, dammit!" Aquaman shouted at the top of his lungs.
By the time his boys realized what they were doing and stopped, a part forest had been burned (and if not for Clark it would have ended in a forest fire), and the sand around us glassed.
I merely dusted myself ala Luke Skywalker, only with sand, actual sand on my real body.
"Your soldiers lack discipline."
"You nearly killed their superior!" Aquaman growled as he clutched his trident, clearly wanting to impale me, not knowing what would happen to him if he tried.
Fortunately for him, Clark did, because he put himself between us and put a hand on Aquaman's tridents. "Arthur, don't do something you might regret."
I glared back at Aquaman, although he didn't realize it because I polarized the helmet, and ignored Clark. "Superior? He'll share blame, then." Time to talk about the reason I was there.
This did confuse Aquaman, whose glare half-morphed into a confused stare. "Blame for what?"
Instead of talking to him, I turned to Clark. "Did you tell him?"
Clark, remembering what I was talking about, shook his head. "No, I was about to, but then you came before I could get to it."
"Should have been straight with him."
Understandably, Aquaman did not like the ease with which I spoke.
"What the Hell are you two talking about?!" He shouted at us. "You've been several days flying over and saying that you need to talk to me, I come to the surface, and then this Starship Trooper wannabe comes out of the ocean, manhandles Brak, insults me, nearly gets me killed, and then mocks the Atlantean Army!"
Before Clark could explain why did we want to talk to him, or even open his mouth for that matter, I put a hand behind my back to call the piece of bomb and then showed it to Aquaman. "You know this?"
Aquaman, finally calmed down, grabbed the shard and inspected it while muttering something under his breath. His cursing stopped abruptly the moment he saw the symbol engraved on the metal, previously frowning eyes now widened in shock. "The Red Trident?" He then shook his head. "Where did you find this?"
"In a train in Germany that had been sabotaged." I told him, making him flinch. So, he did know something at least. "Speak."
It was at that moment that the assholish general, Brok or whatever, came out of the water "You dare to-"
That was as far as he got before I pulled a 'gun aimed at annoyance to make it shut up'. Then again, it was the first time anyone in the planet, let alone the universe, saw me pull a weapon literally out of thin air and aim it at him.
The fact it was the Super Shotgun out of all the weapons in my arsenal, and one with a bayoned attached to it, probably didn't help. The games don't really show how actually big the damn thing is since Doom Slayer is a shaved gorilla in green armor, but to give you an idea the combat shotgun is chambered for 8 gauge shells, just like Halo's shotties, only a bit meatier (and no, don't ask me how did I reach that conclusion, the fact it can damage armored vehicles should suffice).
The Super Shotgun's are significantly larger than that. Think of them as small shells repurposed for buckshot. Or dinoshot, or pinkyshot, or whatever the fuck shots exponentially larger than buckshot are called.
"One more word from you, and I'll blow your head off." I growled at the little man, who ignoring the fact he was a high-ranking officer and standing in the presence of not only his monarch, but also his troops, nodded frantically and stepped back. Then, I turned back to Aquaman, who finally showed fear, only not of me. "Start talking."
"Doom Slayer-" Clark began to say before I interrupted him.
"Not now." I turned back to Aquaman. "Speak."
Aquaman breathed deeply. "They're a… group of atlanteans who do not like what the people of the surface do to the oceans: pollution, fishing, all that stuff." He then shook his head. "And I don't like it either when the surface believes it can do whatever it wants to the oceans. However, they're a bit more… extreme when it comes to make clear what they think Atlantis should do."
"More extreme in what sense?" Clark asked.
Before Aquaman could respond to him, VEGA called me. I raised a hand indicating them to shut up and then listened in. "What is it?"
"Slayer , the Voyager of the Seas is being boarded by several dozen atlanteans equipped with the Atlantis armed forces' armor and weapons, several of them sporting a red trident."
VEGA then showed me an ocean liner in the middle of the Pacific ocean under a sunny sky, which would have been a normal sight… if not for the atlantean ship surfaced near it and the armored figures climbing its sides.
The moment they got to the upper deck they began killing the passengers indiscriminately, some not even bothering to shoot them and beating them to death which, given that atlanteans are significantly stronger than the average human, was easy for them, before gathering the survivors and dragging them inside the ship.
That included children.
"I am currently spying their communications. It seems they want to ram the ship into Seattle's docks." VEGA continued
"Just that? No demands or anything?" I growled, too angry to realize I had said that outloud, earning confused looks from the others.
"No, Slayer. If I may, the captain has already send a distress call, but both the U.S Navy and the Coast Guard are too far away to stop them in time without destroying the Voyager of the Seas. Even then, the Red Trident have brought a bomb to the ship in case they can't accomplish their primary goal"
So, the classic murderous terrorists whose cause involved killing first, demanding stuff later. How did I react to this turn of events? By teleporting straight to the ship and murderfucking the hijackers? By going to the deep end in a moment of irrationality, and wiping Atlantis off the map with the BFG-9000?
The first one, of course. First, however, I had to… show my displeasure to the man that had the most to do with this, despite everything pointing that he had nothing to do at all with what I saw. I grabbed Aquaman by the throat and raised him up as high as I could, before throwing him to the sand. Again, he had nothing to do with the Red Trident, but at that moment I wasn't thinking straight.
Clark cried something, and the atlanteans charged, but one shot from the Super Shotgun into the air stopped them; some even dropped their rifles in fright. It might sounds stupid to you for them to act like that because of some slugthrower, but the SSG going off sounds like an artillery piece being fired.
"W-why the Hell did you do that for?!" Aquaman screamed at me after recovering.
"A cruise ship is being hijacked by atlanteans. They're killing passengers indiscriminately."
I felt two hands grabbing me by the shoulders "Where?!" Clark screamed both in horror and anger, as he (as already told) grabbed me by the shoulders, not caring about the height difference between the two of us.
I looked at him straight in the eyes. "Pacific ocean, five nautical miles from Seattle. They want to ram it into the port. No demands. Start flying."
The moment I closed my mouth he was already flying northwest at mach 5. However, even as fast as he was, he wouldn't arrive in time to stop the ship from crashing and killing thousands.
Which was good, because he'd most definitely be an obstacle for me and what I had planned to do with the Red Trident.
I watched as Superman went supersonic before turning to Aquaman. "Stay here. And pray you have nothing to do with this." Once more, I knew he didn't, but at that moment I just didn't care, and besides I wanted to scare his ass for being… an ass towards me, justified or not.
I opened a portal to the ship and walked in, leaving a hundred confused and angry atlanteans behind. I did not care the possible repercussions that could come from threatening the sovereign of a nation, too busy planning the rescue of the Voyager. As for why did I tell Superman to fly instead of bringing him with me, he might have been a help stopping the Red Trident… but also become an obstacle.
Because he would have done anything to stop me from giving those fucks what they deserved. And a show of force for the whole world to see what happened when you crossed the line with me near.
Before that, however, VEGA had a ship to save.
So, we meet Aquaman. Next chapter will be the beginning of the long awaited RIP AND TEAR YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR!!! Only the beginning, though: I'm gonna have to use two chapters.
Once more, did I write the characters right?
Not so dumb question (at least to me) for Halo/Mass Effect fans: would a Mass Effect-enhanced Punic supercarrier (Silaris armor, cyclonic barriers…) be an even match for a CAS assault carrier?
Rip...
And with save, I mean opening a portal right in front of it that led to a clear spot in a field a kilometer away from Fort Bragg, the largest military base in the U.S mainland, submarine included.
Naturally, the sudden appearance of the world's largest cruise ship and a strange submarine spooked them,
I was going to kill them all. Yeah, that's right, KILL. I would not wear kiddie gloves for those fucks, not after watching them massacre civilians just because some hick decided to use the ocean as a dump. I just brought the ship there so that they would not escape, not if they didn't want to be hounded by an entire division of the National Guard, which I hoped would share my sentiment the moment they saw the dead bodies on the deck.
This time, though, I wouldn't just burn the fuck out of them with the plasma rifle and then leave them screaming on the ground, but alive.
Oh, no, this time, they would end up being torn apart with my entire armoury, starting with the heavy cannon, consequences of using evidence-leaving weapons be damned!
First, though, I wanted to scare the Red Trident, to… 'communicate' that they had pissed off the only man in all of Earth that wouldn't let them live for what they had done, and who was so damn powerful they could do nothing to save themselvess, not even running away (which would have spelled death for them anyway, since we were miles away from the sea and those suits of theirs didn't have enough water to keep them hydrated for long).
Which I did by bombarding the Trident's vehicle with the rocket launcher, firing four or five times at it.
The games make it seem like the rockets are not particularly powerful, but that's only because many of the demons you're firing them at are stupidly tough for their size. In truth, they're actually quite powerful against their original targets, in this case armored vehicles, thank to a souped up HEAT warhead and being a literal semi-automatic missile launcher.
Targets like, for example, a crappy-ass submarine made of steel. Amazingly, some of the crew still inside managed to survive the initial explosions, though only to come out screaming in agony because they had been set aflame. I was tempted to let them burn to death, but instead I decided to be a bit merciful and snipe them with the heavy cannon. Then, when I saw several armored individuals come out to the upper deck and peek over the rails to see that not only they were on land, but also that their vehicle had been destroyed, I pulled out the pistol, took aim, and fired even as they shot at me.
You might be wondering, why use the measly, shitty pistol, instead of the heavy cannon's precision bolt, or even the gauss cannon? First, because the precision bolt was for much longer ranges, while the gauss cannon was simply too damn powerful for the task at hand.
And second, because even the (fully upgraded) pistol, even when not fully charged, could vaporize a steel helmet and the head it covered at any range
It was time to show the world I was willing to stop holding back if someone crossed the line… and rip said someone in half.
…
Soren Dar, trooper of the Red Trident organization to save the oceans from the predations of the surface dwellers, was busy making sure that their hostages stayed inside their cabins before the whole ship shook, then crashed against something.
They were supossed to attack the ship, kill some surfaced dwellers, hijack it, and then ram the entire thing into a nearby port to sow fear, to show them that the Seven Seas would not suffer the pollution of their home and the surface dwellers who were exploiting the ocean.
While they did get the leisure of killing hundreds of dwellers, their leader, Krios, told them to take the rest hostage, lest the armed forces of the country they would attack decided to destroy the ship before they could leave.
And then they felt the floor quaked before the ship listed to the right. As the Red Trident fighters recovered from the conmotion, wondering if they had already hit the city, an explosion from outside shook the ship even further.
Krios, fearing that the enemy was attacking them, sent Soren and his squadron of nine to see what did just happen:
"By Poseidon!" Marak, the leader of the group, muttered in horror when they found out what happened.
Somehow, and to the utter amazement and horror of the squad, they had ended up in a green field, well away from the sea. Worse, their getaway ship had been destroyed! It would have been useless as a method of transportation, but it was the only source of water in however many miles they were inside land.
And then they saw the burning corpses of their friends, all of them well away from the ship. It seemed they had managed to survive and get away from the wreck, but without water around they burned to death. An horrible way to die.
Soren growled. Words could not explain the sorrow, the anger he felt seeing his fellow saviors of the ocean having been killed by surface dwellers (who else had the firepower to destroy it, as primitive as they were?), which distracted him from the fact the ship was NOT supposed to be on land.
His thoughts were interrupted when Juno, the sole female member of the group, raised her arm and pointed at a point beyond the submarine "Do you guys see that?"
It was quite far, but Soren could see what Juno was pointing at: some kind of armored… man, standing over a hundred yards away from them. A surface soldier? A machine?
"What in the depths is-"
Whatever else Marak was going to say was interrupted when his head was struck by a blue projectile which, instead of knocking him back as that kind of weapons did, blew his helmet and skull off like a balloon. The mush that had formerly been Soren's head spread all over the wall behind him, painting it red, while his headless corpse fell in a heap, water escaping from the newly made aperture in the suit.
Juno was the first one to recover from the shock of seeing their squad leader die.
"Kill the bastard before-" She managed to scream before yet another shot destroyed her head, dying just like Marak had.
However, their hydro-pulse weapons, while powerful, were not accurate beyond a range of a hundred meters; they simply hadn't been designed with long-range combat
Which was the lesser of their problems, because the few shots that DID hit the armored man did nothing at all to him, not him set him back. Worse, they could see in the horizon several aircraft flying towards them; 'helicopters', Krios had called them. Soren was confident that those would not resist even a single shot from their weapons, but he had seen recordings of the firepower some of those helicopters could carry. They were also the first part of an offensive, and if the surface dwellers, not even superior physiology and technology would save them from being overwhelmed.
If they survived the armored soldier, that is.
And then said soldier began running towards them at a speed Soren was fairly certain a surface dweller was not supposed to attain, creating clouds of dust as he went. Had they not been occupied with firing at the man, and in turn being systematically killed by him, the Red Trident discovered that he was bigger than he looked.
"Nothing's working!" Another of his fellow atlanteans cried before again falling. Now the only fighters remaining were him and Das, both frantically firing at the speeding surface dweller as fast as their fingers allowed.
And then, just as the soldier got close enough that he could practically touch the hull of the ship, instead of climbing it under the fire of the Red Trident, he did something that both amazed and terrified them.
He jumped up to the ship, its actual height increased because it was listing on one side, and high enough that he surpassed the deck they were on.
And incidentally, right above Das.
The atlantean managed to scream in horror before several hundred pounds of metal crushed him, sending blood, water and shards of bone everywhere across the deck.
Soren realized with terror that he was the last one standing… and that the surface dweller was well over a foot taller than him.
And by the murderous glare he was giving him through his traslucent helmet, he was also angry.
The Red Trident member, terrified out of his wits, fired at the enemy without abandon, but even being shot at such short range did nothing to the man who, unimpeded by the attacks, began stomping towards him, his steps breaking the deck as he moved towards his prey.
And then, when he got close enough that the barrel of his rifle was touching his waist, the walking tank grabbed the weapon and pulled… alongside Soren's arms, clavicles included. Mixed water and blood spewed out of the newly opened holes as the atlantean's mind realized what just happened.
Soren only had a second to scream in pure agony before the metallic beast from the depts themselves raised his rifle and bashed his head upside down with the weapon, killing him instantly.
Had Soren been provided with a way to see his demise from another perspective, the atlantean militant would have seen that not only his head had been completely caved in into his torso, helmet included, but that it had also been crushed to a pulp due to the sheer strength behind the strike.
The giant soldier, with his prey dead, dropped the weapon and made its way into the ship, to both rescue the hostages… and kill every last Red Trident bastard that were inside, public opinion be damned!
I had killed people for the first time since I arrived here. When I bonked the fuck out of that poor bastard with his own gun, arms still attached to the weapon, I felt… I felt….
Nothing, aside from the latent anger that I had because there were more of them inside, very possibly killing more people, and I was wasting valuable seconds up there.
What, did you expect me to be horrified by taking my first 'human' lives? Please, those bastards were basically eco-terrorists that aimed at the common man, monsters in human skin that only deserved to be put down like the rabid dogs they were, and besides I had LOOONG mentallized myself to the fact I would end up killing actual people. Yes, the public wouldn't take it well me acting like, well, Doom Slayer on a rampage, but at that moment I simply didn't care.
After killing the last terrorist on deck and seeing that Fort Bragg was finally, I made my way to the interior of the ship with a portal. As for why, what better way to scare the enemy than coming from the exact place they didn't expect anything to attack from?
I didn't want to just kill the Red Trident, I wanted them to be s cared shitless before being brutalized. Remember, hey had killed hundreds and planned to kill thousands and not even bother to die with them, they deserved nothing less than utter destruction. Only their leaders would survive, and that was only because the big fish would go to Aquaman, and the second biggest for the U.S government.
Incidentally, I also ended in one of the locations where the Red Trident had kept several of their hostages trapped, the plaza of the ship.
The sunlight coming from above allowed me to see them huddled down and fearful of being the Red Trident's next victims, some even having soiled themselves out of fear.
And in the corner, piled like bags of garbage bags, were the corpses of at least thirty people.
Two were children.
You can possibly imagine the feeling of unstoppable wrath that came over me when I saw THAT.
And the utter terror they felt when one of the women saw a giant-ass super soldier standing right there with them, having come out of nowhere… at least until a german tourist saw me too and realized who I.
"Wait, it's the Doom Slayer!" He cried in awe. "We're saved!"
Soon, everyone crowded around me, begging me to get them out of there before the guards returned, and to rescue the others. They didn't seem to notice that I was covered in blood, or did but were too scared to care.
"VEGA, open a portal to Fort Bragg, send them a message of the situation, make me a map of the ship signaling the positions of the hostages and the Red Trident, and tell them to not intervene." I asked VEGA.
"As you wish Slayer." Five seconds later, I had a fully 3D schematic of the liner. Fortunately, most of the hostages were on the same deck, which simplified things for VEGA. However, as the first group escaped to the base, I also made VEGA EMP the entire ship. Why did I ask him to do that? Two reasons. tirst, people wouldn't like the gruesome aftermath of my actions, but they would as hell freak the fuck out if they saw the actions themselves because of some hidden camera in the Voyager. As for why didn't I open portals directly in the hostages' positions, they were more heavily guarded, and I didn't want the Red Trident to kill the fleeing hostages.
No, they wouldn't be able to cross the portals themselves to attack Fort Bragg, they were selective about who could and who could not cross them.
The conmotion of the hostages rushing inside the portal brought the attention of the twenty or so guards stationed outside, who ran in to see what was happening.
They froze in place when they saw the last of this particular group of future victims entering the portal… and me standing there, faceplate polarized so that the last thing they would see would be murder in my eyes. The poor fools didn't have time to react properly before I pulled out the heavy rifle and opened fire.
Atlanteans, as I already told you, are superhumanly tough, but not to the point of being fully bulletproof, which was why the Red Trident mooks wore stolen atlantean army armor, that apparently lets them shrug off rifle rounds AND keeps them hydrated for fifteen minutes. Unfortunately for them, the heavy cannon, while not an actually piece of artillery or an autocannon proper, fires .55 caliber, 75 grams rounds at a velocity of four thousand feet per second. Not many types of personal armor from this Earth could protect from single shots, and NONE could withstand a full burst at close range.
Naturally, theirs was neither.
One of the bastards was outright disintegrated by the two shots I landed on him, while another's head simply ceased to exist.
The others would soon end up wishing they had died like friends: quick and painlessly, instead of, essentially, being glory killed.
And no, no ammunition nor armor points came out of their deaths.
One had the stupid idea of trying to bash me over the head with his rifle, and got his skull ripped off and thrown against another, with helmet included, the impact braining the poor devil. Pretty sure the guy's head was still 'alive' for a couple seconds, since it kept screaming for that long.
Another kept screaming as I ripped her in half like she was made of paper, gore and bones still hanging from both halves. I gave her the mercy of my boot crushing her head, a mercy she very possibly didn't deserve.
Another ran at me screaming at the top of his lungs, firing his gun at me and then lunging when he got close enough. The moment he was closer still, I pulled out the shotgun in full auto mod and, with perfect timing, speared him from the mouth before firing, making him explode and reducing the men behind him to nothing.
Yet another Red Trident, the biggest of the bunch at nearly seven feet, latched onto me and began punching my helmet, his adrenaline-fueled fists doing nothing to me but. For his troubles, I ripped out his guts and garroted him with them. Pretty sure the only reason he wasn't beheaded by that was that intestines aren't particularly good as makeshift nooses, and his armor getting in the way.
One by one, they were ripped apart, decapitated, burned alive, frozen alive, gutted, smashed, chainsawed, turned inside out, dismembered, and many other horrible ways to die. By the time there was only one Red Trident still alive, I was standing on a pool of gore and blood mixed with some saltwater that was slowly creeping right because of the listing.
And when the traumatized survivor's mind rebooted and saw what happened to his friends, and me walking up at him with chainsaw revved, he did something that both surprised me… and made me loathe the little turd.
He dropped his rifle, which was still covered in the blood of however many people he had killed) on the ground and got on his knees with a pleading stance.
"I surrender! Please don't kill me, please!" He begged. "Krios made me do it! He told me I had to go with him or other wouldn't follow! Please!"
That… made no sense whatsoever to my anger-ridden brain. Still, it made me stop myself from cutting him in half vertically, and I still had enough sense to realize that by the manner he was speaking what he was sying that he was the second in command of whoever this 'Krios' was, and therefore the second big fish. He was lying, of course, but his pleading made me realize that some might give up and beg for mercy… and THAT, in turn, made me realize I could do something more productive than just blowing their perfectly unmoving heads.
Which would still involve mutilations galore.
I decided to change the plans a little: I would let whoever surrendered to me live and give them to the authorities to judge and hang… but not before I I had my way with them.
And with 'my way' I mean I carved I carved a trident on his chest with the doomblade, just like in Inglorious Basterds. Starting with him.
"No, no, please, no! NO!" He screamed as he tried to fruitlessly push me (and the blade) away, thinking I was going to kill him.
My non-verbal response was to glare harder and think about the men, women and children that had begged for their lives.
His cry became a shriek of agony when I began cutting his chest, deep enough that the mark would never, ever heal but not so much I would kill him (I wanted it to stay, after all), and slowly enough to prolong his suffering the fullest.
Then, after making sure he wouldn't bleed out from his wounds by cauterizing them with the plasma gun's battery, I opened a portal to Aquaman's current position, so that he would understand what was happening.
I would repeat this with those Red Trident who surrendered, which were few: some went to Fort Bragg after I made VEGA inform them about their new prisoners, others directly to the atlantean king with the first one. That way, I would show that I could be lenient with those who didn't deserve to live, if only because they would end up dead anyway, just under legal terms.
Nonetheless, it was time for me to show to the world that this shit wouldn't stand with me… and to finish the job.
So, my longest chapter yet, and the one where the SI stops fucking around (even though hthat's because they forced his hand)! For those wondering if the original Slayer is there or not, the SI doesn't realize that anger he has… isn't exactly fully his, and I'm leaving it at that.
Why brand them with their own symbol, instead of the Doom rune, ala Snyder's Batman? Because he wants people to know who they are and what they did.
Also, to those who might wonder how can DS jump over 63 meters (that's how tall the Voyager of the Seas is), twofold explanation: A) the Delta V jump-boots boost can be used to boost jumping capacity rather than just giving him the capacity to double-jump, and B) I read in the thread that compiled DS's feats that theorically he could jump to nearly 80 feet… and that was a standing jump, not a running leap.
Another Halo/Mass Effect dumb question: since I've been told that an upgraded Punic would still not be a match for a CAS, what about an upgraded Vindication heavy cruiser? Not pitted against a CAS thought, but a CCS. Would Silaris armor, cyclonic barriers, GARDIAN and the rest make it an even match for its covie counterpart? Maybe even superior to it?
Last edited: Aug 19, 2021
Finishing the Job
I made my way across the ship, killing Red Trident militants as I went. Some I shot, others, others I smacked, and yet others I brutalized, but as you already know those that didn't drop on their knees and beg for their miserable lives died. What irked me was the sheer number of them: not because there were many of them, but rather that there were few, fifty at most, counting those I had already killed before going inside.
Which still pissed me off, because that meant that for every bastard I killed they had already murdered ten people each. Just to give you an idea, your run of the house serial killer kills three, four people in a period of several months.
The Red Trident, on the other hand? They murdered over two hundred civilians in less than fifteen minutes. And yet there weren't that many of them.
Fortunately, they were not expecting a demon slaying space marine to do worse to them. As a matter of fact, they had to be very confident, because they lacked critical things like communicators to tell their fellows about my presence, something that made my job even easier.
And for the record, their screams of agony and horror were muffled by the walls of the ship.
Soon, nearly every last Trident grunt was either dead or alive but mutilated and in Fort Bragg/Atlantis. All that was left was to get to this Krios guy and the last of his mooks, who were on the bridge, and take them out… but without actually killing Krios himself. After all, Aquaman would love to get his hands on him and rip him apart for what he did.
Yes, he would get to live despite directing everything, but don't get me wrong, he would end up getting what he had coming, just not at my hand. I think I need to explain.
Aquaman would be the one who would punish him personally.
Yea, you read that right. He would do it not just because he was still a good man at heart who didn't like seeing the innocent getting hurt (and one more than willing to string someone on his trident), no matter if they lived above or below the water, but also because he knew what could happen when the news of the massacre reached… well, everywhere in the entire damn planet: the world at large wouldn't stand by at the deaths of hundreds of people at the hand of atlanteans, nor their (foiled) plan to cause even more destruction. The atlanteans' belief of being capable of wipe out the surface in a conventional manner was more of a thing the more xenophobic ones told themselves before going to bed, that they could do so in time before a surface response (from a conventional invasion to the capitals to plain ol' torpedo barrages) fucked them good.
Something that could very possibly happen if I didn't intervene. I had appointed myself as protector of Earth and its inhabitants, remember? That included those who lived under the waves. Plus, that kind of war would definitely screw the entire planet, or at least the ocean… which would still screw the entire planet in the long run.
And yes, the atlanteans still had that 'doomsday reactor' in Antartica that could melt the ice of the poles, which if activated would raise the water level to a whooping… seventy meters. That's 230 feet for you imperial measurers. And yes, the rising of the ocean would be worse for the Seven Seas than the surface. Much, MUCH worse.
If vindictive officers that lost either their homes or their families didn't hijack nuclear submarines to fire nuclear torpedos at them, that is.
So, what did this have to do with me? Aquaman's response to the event and… punishment to the perpetrators I sent to him, would have to be recorded so that the world would realize he did not, in fact, have a hand in the attack.
And how did I know Aquaman would do something? For the simple fact he had, in fact, done horrible things to people in the past, whalers and such, though to be fair those had tried to kill him first.
All I had to, of course, was to take Krios to Aquaman.
Incidentally, he also had the last hostages with his group, possibly to stop any attempt to dislodge him from the bridge.
Krios was an older man, over his sixty at least. In case they were stopped, he had his mooks bring a bomb to the bridge so that in case their attack was stopped somehow, they could still be able to kill people.
How unfortunate for them, then, that despite it being powered by water like their guns, VEGA could still hack into the explosive. However, I did not ask him to completely deactivate it.
Imagine the shock on Krios' face when the door to the bridge was kicked open and saw a 7.5 feet tall armored individual tromp inside with one of their rifles in his hands, them and taking out his cronies with non-lethal shots because everything else would have killed them horribly, and there were witnesses there.
That said, I said 'non-lethal', not 'non-crippling': hydro-pulse rifles were more than capable of harming armored atlanteans, and I was a mean shot; those two would never be able to move again.
"I killed the others. You are the last." I told him.
Understandably, Krios did not like what he heard, his shock gaving way to momentary horror, then rage. "You… you murdered them!" He screamed at me as he shot at me, too furious to see his last hostages fleeing behind him through a portal or to realize his shots weren't doing a thing.
I didn't even flinch as he kept firing at me until his ammo ran out. "You scum started it."
"The surface started it!" He screamed at me, instead of actually being stupid and trying to get close, like others would have done. "With their defiling of the oceans with their dirty ships, like this one, and the deaths of millions of creatures to feed their hunger!" He kept ranting about something about 'teaching them a lesson' and 'making them feel the pain the sea feels'.
As if, I didn't give a single shit for the Red Trident's motivations. He and his cronies were nothing more than murderous extremists, rabid dogs that needed to be put down.
His anger then turned into that smugness that comes from the villain when they think they have won anyway. " Doesn't matter. This bomb is more than powerful enough to destroy this damned ship and everything around it in a mile! So long, murderer of my kind!" The bastard then looked at me with a smug grin before activating the bomb. He probably expected me to be unable to stop him in time.
Why allow this deluded moron think he was still able to do anything at all?
He didn't expect his precious explosive device to actually explode… but only with enough force to break apart and send some shrapnel right into Krios' side. VEGA did his job right.
Taking advantage of his shock and pain, I charged at Krios and inmobilized him by grabbing his throat. With that, the Red Trident was rendered completely destroyed. I would not brand him, however: wanted to give him relatively fresh to Aquaman. But first…
"VEGA, inform Fort Bragg that the ship is clear of hostiles."
"Already done, Slayer." What would I do without VEGA?
Atlantis, capital of the Seven Seas and the only city of the 'kingdom' where an air-breather like me could move around without diving equipment thanks to the shield around it.
And in the place I ended up, the plaza, there was a small crowd gathered around eight people moaning or crying in fear, all of them with a trident carved on them. Everyone looked upon them with either horror, shock, confusion, or a combination of the three, not knowing what happened to these eight poor devils or not realizing what the symbols on their torsos meant.
At the head of the crowd were Aquaman, his wife Mera, and his brother Orm. Mera looked at the, while Orm was either disgusted or just as horrified. Aquaman, on the other hand, was glaring at the Red Trident.
Again, imagine their collective reaction when they saw me stomp towards the pile of moaning Red Trident and adding two more. Obviously everyone reacted at my sudden appearance there with shock and fear, some even with terror by the fact a surface dweller was down there with them; Aquaman, however, went straight for us with trident in hand… but not for me.
"These are all of them?" He asked me, gesturing to the pile. Blunt, straight to the point, and not caring that there was a bunch of mutilated people mere yards away from him. I liked that. His attitude also made me remember I went overboard with him before. "And how many were there? I couldn't exactly interrogate them."
I shook my head. "There were fifty at most; most of them are dead, the rest under custody of the U.S National Guard. You'll have to speak with them if you want them returned to Atlantis."
He scoffed. "They can throw them into Arkham for all I care." Aquaman then dropped his trident and grabbed Krios by the neck "How many? How many people did you and your henchmen murder in cold blood for something they had nothing to do with?"
Instead of letting Krios say something thing like 'not enough', I spoke "Two hundred eighty two passengers, half as much that in crew."
Aquaman looked away from me and back at Krios, with a glare that would have atomized him if looks could kill (or if he was a kryptonian).
And then began to beat Krios. The strength difference wasn't that much, and he didn't want to actually kill him, but Aquaman was still a large, muscular man on his prime fueled by anger, letting that anger out by beating the fuck out of a much smaller and older man.
By the time he was done beating the life out of Krios, the poor devil looked like he had tried to take on the Hulk and was curbstomped.
However, instead of letting him execute Krios with, say, his trident. After all, I wanted to help.
So, I gave him the plasma rifle. Shot by shot it was the third weakest gun in my arsenal just after the pistol and the burst rifle, but as you already know, it still fired ultra-hot plasma bolts of ionized energy, and therefore were quite painful, and even that understates their destructivity. As for why the rifle, two reasons: first, every other weapon would have broken Aquaman's wrists, at the very least, no matter how strong he was. Second…
Because plasma burns like Hell, even for the five seconds you get to live before your blood flashboils inside your body and expands, ripping you apart even with open wounds. And last time I checked, Aquaman knew how to handle a gun.
Imagine the surprise I got when the king didn't actually kill Krios… but did something arguably more meaningful.
Aquaman eyed the rifle for a moment, before grabbing it without hesitation.
"Will this kill him no matter where I shoot?" He asked me.
"Not if you shoot the limbs." I replied, actually surprised by his question, and what he had planned. "But he will if shoot at either his head or torso."
He nodded. "Hold him up."
I did as he asked, holding Krios by the scruff of his neck like the trash he was. Yes, I tore his skin apart doing so; no, he didn't scream, and neither me nor Aquaman cared.
"Brother?"
"Arthur?"
Aquaman ignored his queen and brother. "Krios… for the death of over three hundred people, children included, and with the power bestowed upon me as King of Atlantis, I condemn you to imprisonment… and I give you something that you will never forget."
The aforementioned Red Trident leader could not talk his way out, beg, rant or whatever extremist villains do at their last moments by virtue of his body being smashed to a pulp before the King of Atlantis and Master of the Seven Seas disintegrated his knees.
Everyone else reacted with horror at his actions. Well, that and the utterly inhuman screech Krios gave, what with having his throat crushed. Apparently they expected him to just beat Krios half to death and be done with it, instead of shooting his legs off and crippling him for life.
Aquaman himself, though? He glared at the screaming mass of tenderized meat that had previously been a fellow atlantean, before punching him in the head, knocking him out (and also breaking whatever teeth were left), and then spitting on him for good measure. Then, he turned to his guards. "Throw all this… trash to the prison! And throw his legs to the sharks, or the hagfish! Just them out of my city!"
Several guards then grabbed Krios and his mooks to drag them away, while a single one grabbed Krios' legs (with clear disgust in his face) to do as his monarch told him to. Then, Aquaman-Arthur, handed me the rifle back and went to talk with his wife.
Suddenly, my respect for him grew significantly. I seriously expected him to just kill Krios and the others then and there, but this was better, more meaningful than a mere execution.
I walked up to him. His men didn't even bother to stand between him and me, since they already knew it'd do nothing, but still gave me wary glances.
It was time for me to do the only thing I could think of, not just to show the respect he earned, but also to make amends for what I did to him less than an hour prior.
Apologize for making an ass out of him and his boys back at the beach.
"Your majesty?" I asked, startling Arthur and his family, who didn't see me walk towards them.
"What is it?" He said after composing himself.
"I regret the humilliating way I treated you and your troops with before." I apologized, even giving a bow to emphasize the point. "I was anxious at the moment, and when I found out what the Trident was doing… you were too close, and I was angry."
He looked at me, then at Mera, then at me once more before crossing his arms over his chest.
"This still doesn't make up for what you did, you know." His gaze then softened. ", but it is a beginning." He then sighed. "Now, if only the surface world were to be just as lenient…"
"Arthur, this wasn't your fault!" Mera said as she held his arm, tried to comfort him.
But Arthur just sighed before rubbing his face. "It is. I have been too lenient with those bastards, and this is what happened. Knowing the surface, they will start pointing fingers at me. I may loathe them, but they're still my people, which means that at least some blame lies in me."
"Well fight them off! They're primitive and barbaric!" Orm stated. Poor little idiot.
I made my opinion clear. "You'll lose, badly. However, there's no need for violence between good people."
Naturally, this picked up Arthurt's interest. "What do you mean?"
"Recorded the beatdown you gave to Krios and the crippling. Even the most hardliners up there will have to admit you cannot have a hand on their actions. That should clear things up a bit. Still, you might want to speak with United Nations about this." I then extended my arm. "I'll help you."
Arthur eyed my hand, still unsure, before grabbing it and giving it a shake. "Thanks for the offer, soldier boy."
"Doom Slayer." I told him, earning a raised eyebrow for it. It was the first time he heard my name. At least he didn't say it was metal or something.
My job done, I went back to the Fortress of Doom to prepare myself for what was coming, something that needed lots of preparation: the public's reaction,.
…
Sorry for making you wait for so long. As for why the absence of Krios' POV in the chapter, him and the Red Trident are just a means to an end, one that I wrote explicitly to die gruesomely. As for Aquaman's cavalier attitude towards the Red Trident, which are technically his people, two things:
-The Trident didn't take well the fact a surface dweller is their king.
-In this story, 'atlantean' is more of a demonym than an actual race, much less a species: some are more fishlike, others are crablike, some are mermaids, and others are… the Trench. The Red Trident, though? They're all atlanteans from Atlantis proper, aka humans that can breathe underwater.
So, yeah, they're not just eco-terrorists, they're also the KKK of the seas. And like many people in real life, myself included Aquaman/Arthur Curry, despite (shamedly) sharing some of their ideals, would rather wipe them all out and be done with it, but hasn't done so out of pragmatism.
Overall, was the chapter okay-ish at least? Did I make Doom Slayer speak too much? Don't want to reveal the existence of VEGA yet. Was it consistent with the 'canon' I imposed?
Also,
The Aftermath
Massacre. Slaughter. Carnage.
Those three words could be used as words to define one single thing: the killing of large swathes of people.
Later they found out that, out of a total of the four thousand people aboard the ship when she sailed from a port in Australia, four hundred passengers of all nationalities and crewmembers alike had been ruthlessly murdered as it approached Seattle.
Just because they had 'supposedly' defiled the ocean.
Unlike most, however the perpetrators of the massacre did not come out of the ordeal unscathed. As a matter of fact, most of them didn't get out alive.
Because it turned out that the atlantean attackers, in an ironic turn of events, had been butchered like sheep, just like they had done to the people onboard the Voyager.
Only, their deaths had been much more… graphic, to say the least.
The Voyager of the Seas was once again teleported, this time to a harbor in San Francisco, one of the many where an assorted force of several branches (in this case two destroyers, four cutters, a gunship squadron and an entire division of the National Guard) was waiting to take down the terrorists, in the very, very slim chance Doom Slayer hadn't taken them out.
The assembled sailors and guardsmen waited in trepidation as their superiors called the invaders. Their warnings and threats quietened when they hear the stomps of something making its way to the upper deck of the liner. Their apprehension and fear faded when they saw what was making that sound.
It was Doom Slayer, who carried something on his arms, something that none of them had ever wanted to see in their lives.
The bodies of two dead children. Upon closer inspection, it seemed that someone had strangled them, then snapped their necks with inhuman strength.
The giant of a man carried the little bodies like they were the most fragile thing in the world, and then laying them in front of the horrified, disheartened soldiers with the upmost care. He kept doing this for half an hour, and with the aid of both National Guard, Coast Guard, and Navy personnel, they managed to bring out all the dead on the ship, so that they could be inspected, and then sent back to their homes to receive their funerary rites by Doom Slayer himself.
Those who received him and the remains of their loved ones couldn't help but not how silent he was. Many of them already knew that the soldier was a man of few words, but they expected him to say something, anything as a condolence. But he never said anything, not a word, only a glance that could only be described as sorrow, shame even, before entering the portal and leaving as fast to continue his disheartening work.
But that show of respect towards the deceased, of kindness, was… juxtaposed, for lack of a more fitting word, with how he brutally killed thirty eight nearly human beings with extreme prejudice, with both weapons he had not been seen using before (including firearms and, by the state of several corpses, a chainsaw of all things) and his bare hands, and mutilated the remaining thirteen. Several guardsmen threw up when they saw his handiwork before they began cleaning it up, some grabbing limbs and pieces with their hands, others moping the blood. The Voyager of the Seas would be refurbished and turned into a memorial for the fallen.
A few, however, wished they could just burn down the ship and let it sink to the depths of the Pacific, not because of the horrors they had found, but out of spite to the terrorists and their precious ocean.
Some of those wanted THAT and to put depth charges, just to spite them more.
Predictably, when the news of Doom Slayer's actions came out, some called him a monster, a villain who had been waiting to finally kill people at his leisure, some doubting his claims of coming from another Earth, and some even claiming he was preparing to invade Earth, just like it happened two years prior.
Had they seen the slaughter itself with their own eyes, rather than just the aftermath their cries would have been harder, but they hadn't, and so they kept crying their outrage, their fears of Doom Slayer turning his rage towards them.
Others, however, still saw in Doom Slayer a hero, despite his brutality; 'remember', they said, 'that he has only done so because the hijackers killed people. Not all heroes have the patience of Superman'. All that said, they still were unnerved by the sheer brutality of his kills, believing that Doom Slayer should have dispatched them more humanely, instead of using weapons that literally blasted them apart and reminding them that the strength to support a building could be used to rend a man limb from limb like a child pulling a fly's wings.
A few of them yet saw in him a true hero, one willing to tackle the root of a problem, to cut its knot, without caring about the public outrage: kill the villains dead before they killed more innocents. Others, while not happy with his actions, defended him nonetheless, pointing out that had he done nothing not only would have more people been killed, the terrorists would have also gotten away with it.
Like doctor James Foster, a famous psychologist and supporter of the death penalty when it came to certain elements that went too far with their actions, to the point many people called him (first to mock him, then to respect him) Cato the Newer for a phrase he was fond to shouting when discussing a certain asylum from a certain city: Arkham Must Be Destroyed! He always insited that the building and the institution, not the people inside, were the ones that should be destroyed, but given the backstories of its most famous patients, many thought otherwise.
Didn't change the fact he was always collected and composed when voicing his opinion, just like he was doing when he was invited to Metropolis' premier talk show, unlike his current rival, psychiatrist Bartholomew Wolper.
And it didn't help that James himself wore an inmaculate corduroy jacket, whereas Wolper wore a Superman T-shirt of all things.
"That madman's a killer!" Wolper exclaimed once more, after discussing Doom Slayer's actions for fifteen minutes with Foster.
"You said it yourself, Wolper: he's a killer, not a murderer." James shot back as he leaned on his chair.
"Is there a difference?! Both involve the deliberate extinguishing of lives!"
"Of course there's a difference you stupid lout!" Foster yelled back, slamming his armrest as he did so. "One's deliberate, unlawful killing, the other is the act of killing, and sometimes is lawful!" Foster then chuckled. "Hell, not only did he say he's a soldier, it's right there in his name, Doom Slayer! And all he did was slaying a group of criminals that have caused the deadliest mass killing ever since Superman spearheaded that invasion! And THAT was an actual war done by an invading force, not an act of terrorism done by forty, maybe fifty water-breathing gunmen from R'lyeh!"
"Superman was not himself then when he led those monster here!" Wolper countered. "Doom Slayer most definitely was when he butchered those people without pity or remorse! And they were not from some city made up by a bigotec lunatic, they were atlanteans!"
"And? I'm fairly certain that the military would have shot them too had they been able to do so."
"This does not change the fact a supposed hero who until know had deceived us, killed fifty people instead of just taking them in!"
James, however, refused to let him have the last word. "Those murderes acted with murder, Doom Slayer reacted with slaying. Exactly as the most ancient law of all dictates, the one even animals follow: you hurt me, I hurt you. As simple as that." He said with a finishing tone that left no room for comebacks as everyone around the room discussed and Wolper screamed about the stupidity Foster spouted.
When it came to other heroes, their opinion about Doom Slayer was too polarized.
Clark Kent, of course, was horrified by the butchery he commited to the atlanteans… but as much as he wanted to, he could not be angry at Doom Slayer. He remembered what VEGA had told them, that Doom Slayer was a soldier: his utmost duty was to kill the enemy if it meant saving innocents and keeping the peace. Besides, Doom Slayer had done a lot of good before, and in practice, this too was an act of good when it came down to it… just a very extreme one. Plus, he did show mercy to those that surrendered, although at the cost of marking them.
And killing armed criminals was still nowhere as bad as spearheading an alien invasion to ravage Earth, hypnosis or not.
Still, understanding his reasoning didn't mean he was happy with Doom Slayer's actions. He only hoped, prayed that this would be the last time the soldier from another dimension decided to cut loose.
Central City's local hero, the Flash, was too understanding. After all, even though in his 'civilian' identity he was a forensic scientist, he was still part of the police: sometimes they had to use lethal force to save lives, although fortunately this was a rare occurrence thanks to him being, well, the Flash.
And just like Clark, he still didn't like the killing, mostly because he had been told that what the cleaners found inside the ship was essentially the most gruesome snuff film made real.
"I mean, can't say what he did was exactly wrong, he didn't kill all of them. But…" The scarlet hero said as they asked about his opinion in the matter of Doom Slayer, trailing off before shuddering. "Haven't seen the pictures, and to be honest I don't plan to, but I've heard they needed mops to clean the mess up. Mops. And that he apparently used a chainsaw. Jeez." His sentiments were shared by many others, who believed that, at the very least, Doom Slayer could had been a bit more… clean, and painless, when it came to killing.
Bruce Wayne publicly decried Doom Slayer's brutality and the fact he had killed people when there was the option of dispatching them without lethal force, while making a plan under as Batman for when the soldier decided to turn his wrath towards those he deemed worthy of death, not caring if he actually ended up doing so.
Many others, however, decided to forget about Doom Slayer altogether, since him killing the Red Trident only proved he was an ally as far as they cared, and focused on the terrorists, the so-named 'Red Trident', and the fact they came from below the waves. What else did hide below? Would there be more attacks? Was this in fact a well-disguised probing operation? Sea monsters from ancient times and who fed on human flesh?
They did not know, and as the saying goes, people feared what they didn't know.
"We don't know how many of those bastards live down there! There could be thousands, maybe even millions of them waiting for us to make a mistake!"
"We must invade them before they do it first!" The bloodthirsty screamed
"Even if they don't want to fight us, we need to know what the hell do the atlanteans have down there! Their technology level is higher than hours, but the Red Trident's actions have proved they're not any better! And their king has done nothing yet to prove that he has nothing to do with this despite his past actions!" The cool-minded pointed out.
The only reason even the more level-headed authority figures didn't consider a military intervention? The King of the Seven Seas himself, called both Orin and Arthur Curry, going to the United Nations building alongside Doom Slayer and, wanting to open relations between his kingdom and the rest of the planet to repair the rift the Red Trident had made before things could become worse.
That, and a recording of the monarch punishing the Red Trident's leader by shooting him with Doom Slayer's own weapon, with clear anger in his eyes. Even the hardliners had to admit he could not have a hand in the terrorists' actions if he could do that to their leader and care not about their deaths.
Many people accepted this mere act of diplomacy as a sign that Doom Slayer was, indeed, a good man at heart, but even this action didn't change the fact he had killed in a world where the mighty didn't use their gifts to slay the weak, even those with black hearts.
There was fear in the criminal underworld, fear that they might draw the rage of Doom Slayer and end up just like the Red Trident. Thieves, muggers and white-collar criminals were confident they were safe, since they thought the soldier wouldnt come after simple lawbreakers like them; most assassins and other 'businessmen' whose 'jobs' involved killing, however, began fearing for their lives, aside from one or two who wanted to test themselves against him
Except, surprisingly enough, the famous Deathstroke the Terminator.
"No way I'm going against that." Slade Wilson said outloud when he was approached for a job, not bothering to look at the contractors while lifting weights. "I'm not going to risk it against someone with that much strength and armor. Not even for every damned ingot in Fort Knox. I know when to fold it. Ask a dumber, suicidal man."
Organizations centered around heroes, villains and metahumans in general began gathering everything they knew of him and making plans, some to bring them to their side, others to destroy him before he destroyed them, and one to merely understand his mentality and why he acted like that.
Those who cleaned up and investigated the ship found stuff that revealed more about what happened there, specifically how Doom Slayer killed the Trident, and with what: spent cases and shells, both of incredible size, alongside large-caliber rounds and flechettes found around the ship, all of them covered in blood. It seemed that Doom Slayer was also a user of more conventional weaponry despite initial thoughts.
Incidentally, several pieces of evidence were taken in by a mysterious source.
And that was just what Doom Slayer left: the Red Trident's defeat had left dozens of energy weapons around, water-plasma plasma rifles, that could be reverse-engineered and modified, and suits that would allow them a greater insight into Atlantis' metallurgy, especially since king Arthur told them they could do as they pleased with it, one of the many reparations he offered for the tragedy.
Except for one: an afro-american scuba diver and part-time engineer from Baltimore by the name of David Hyde, whose family had been on the Voyager when it returned from Australia. All he saw were the weapons that had been used to cave his wife's head in, and carbonize his son. All because someone couldn't bother to throw their glass on the proper bin, or pissed on the water.
As he tinkered with the rifle a friend of his had snatched from the ship, all he could think of was the pain he felt when Doom Slayer returned him his family's bodies, the man himself giving him one last glance before leaving as he came, the cries of his relatives during the burial, him contemplating suicide because his family had been his life…
Three days after the funerals, after crying and blaming himself for agreeing to let them go on a tour around the world, David recovered from self-pity… but only because it was turned to rage.
"Those monsters… those freaks…" He muttered with seething hatred as he began his work, remembering the smashed bodies of his wife and son, and the fact that there could be more of those Red Trident bastards down there. But how many were down there? Dozens, hundreds, thousands? Did Doom Slayer get them all? Were all atlanteans as hateful for humanity as the Red Trident had been?
Because if they were, David had the solution for that: he'll go to wherever Atlantis was, kill as many atlanteans as he could, and let whatever sea deity they worshipped sort them out. He would kill every last fishy bastard he could get his hands on for their sins, even if that meant drawing the wrath of Doom Slayer upon himself. Avenging his family was worth angering a god in human skin.
'They will pay… They will ALL pay!' David screamed in his mind as he continued forging.
He wasn't the only one.
Batman's reaction was obvious, but did I write the rest right? I mean, they know DS is a soldier who carries lethal weapons and who's willing to use said lethal weapons. Was making them understanding of the slaughter but unnerved nonetheless the right call? I mean, the Red Trident beated people to death, and they enjoyed it, and they don't have the excuse of being literal space demons and evil gods like the apokoliptians do, and their real excuse still doesn't… excuse their actions. Also, sorry if the chapter is too narrative heavy for you guys. As for the full consequences of the Red Trident attack and Atlantis, those will be explored in next chapter.
As for why did I write the SI going back to the Voyager even though in the last chapter he went back to the Fortress of Doom to prepare for the shitstorm that was coming, it was mainly to clean himself up of blood: didn't want to make the wrong impressions when returning the dead
InquisitionAI said:
Did… you not read 3/4 of my post? I literally spelled out the exact reason why Superman wouldn't want to go Full Powah all the time.
He is a (metaphorical) God living in a world of Paper, the slightest mistake in strength control could shatter every bone in a person's body. He doesn't want to kill people and being seen delimbing a Villian is horrible for PR.
And, to use a completely OOC reason, he is here to be a foil for DOOMSLAYER, there needs to be someone who shows that DS could, if he ever desired to, be able to fight crime without being brutal.
Click to expand…
Click to shrink…
Yeah, sorry for not replying, I was answering other post. It was a… correction of your statement: normies get their everything shattered if they're lucky, not just the skeleton.
As for Superman being a foil for Doom Slayer, yup! One refuses to kill even the worst elements of humanity (although more than willing to let the authorities do so), the other will not suffer evil to live, or at least the evil that everyone agrees must leave.
And for those who might be zombie scholars, you might now who Foster is, where's he from, and have an idea of why did I use him.
Last edited: Aug 30, 2021
Discussing with the Man of Steel
So… it went better than I expected. Much better, in fact: many people actually understood my actions, and surprisingly many heroes were among them, Clark included. Sure, there were the naysayers, but those were actually rather few, at least when taking into account those with genuine concerns and fears about me and not those who simply didn't like gun-toting heroes that could also benchpress tanks and had no moral compunctions about using both to take out criminals permanently.
And then, of course, there was Bruce.
I don't have to tell you what he felt about me the moment he found out about the massacre I pulled out, you already know. Weird, since I had yet to even go to Gotham ( YET), but then again, he did have contingencies in case that, say, Superman went rogue again, his real identity were to be find out (Knightfall Protocol from Arkham Knight), or Joker became a god.
As a sidenote, he managed to yoink several bullets and shells from the Voyager, something that I expected of him. I mean, it wasn't like he could build a powered armor/mech to fight me, no amount of metal would save him from being ripped apart under a hail of 15mm tungsten rounds.
And no, that was not part of the altercation we had, be patient!
So, after stopping the Red Trident, giving the victims the respect they deserved, and helping smooth things out between Atlantis and the rest of the planet, what did I do?
Patrol New York to gauge the people's reactions to me after the clusterfuck of the last week and because I really had nothing else better to do at that moment. I mean, there couldn't be high-end crimes or natural disasters every damn day, don't you think?
Also, New York. Just New York. Did you know that Central Park here is a full-on zoo? And that someone, for some reason, made a life-size statue of Superman in Bronx?
So, there I was, the Doom Slayer, walking down Times Square under a sunny sky, bystanders either looking up at my huge form from afar or stepping back as I walked across streets, most of them staring at me like I was Robocop or Judge Dredd instead of Spawn.
This had the unexpected effect of drawing the attention of people who shouldn't had been distracted from what they were doing, specifically a young mother pushing a stroller with a baby on it, the woman being somehoww too distracted to remember she had been crossing the street. Many of the drivers were too busy looking at me to drive, but it wasn't them who supposed a problem: it was an armored van speeding from Midtown whose passengers and co-driver were exchanging fire with three pursuing cop cars, pushing smaller vehicles aside as it went that did.
Yeah, the driver saw the two standing right in the middle of the road didn't care about what he would have done.
Yes, I just said 'would have done'.
Runaway van, distracted woman and child, space marine mere yards away from them… You know what it led to.
The mother only had time to hear the vehicle speeding at her at a hundred miles per hour and look at that direction before I jumped in between and braced myself, stopped the van cold, and stomped on the engine for good measure.
Incidentally, the codriver didn't have the seatbelt on, so you had the image of a balaclava-wearing gunman flying and screaming like a bitch before crashing his head against a pole. Goddamn hilarious, but I hadn't been paying attention to that.
"Watch both sides before you cross, ma'am." I told her, trying to channel my inner Spider-man. After all, when in New York…
"I-I'm actually single, but thanks for the advice." She stuttered.
"Miss, then." I then turned towards the stopped van. The robbers, being of the smart sort instead of their fellows from Metropolis and Gotham, didn't even bother to shoot at me and dropped their guns before stepping out of the vehicle with hands raised and kneeling on the ground. The officers that had been chasing them inmediatly set to apprehend them, while one of them approached me.
"Thanks for the help Doom Slayer." He said
I merely nodded at him before returning to my patrolling amidst the applauds of several people. That was good, knowing that some people still liked me despite being a (successful) Punisher reenactor. "VEGA?"
"Nothing to report Slayer." He then stood quiet for a second "Warning, Clark Kent is approaching from above."
"Speed?" I knew he wasn't even angry at me, and to be honest I had anticipated that Clark would want to talk to me, but I still wanted to know if he was in a hurry or something; he may have wanted me to help him in something, after all.
"Four knots."
Yep, just wanted to talk with me.
I nodded at VEGA's response as I walked. I knew what he wanted to talk about.
"You came quickly." I said outloud without bothering to look up, knowing he was hearing me.
"You know the saying, faster than speeding bullet." I heard him say as he came closer.
"Why are you here."
"I was in New Jersey dealing with Livewire, and heard a portal of yours opening. "Clark said as he landed next to me. "I saw what you just did Doom Slayer. Nice to see you're willing to do small things from time to time."
"Big problems that would require my intervention are low for now. Wanted to make myself useful." I replied as we walked down the street, the small crowd that had been formed before growing steadily because it wasn't every day that they got to see not just the Man of Steel, but also the world's newest and now most infamous hero chatting on Times Square. "Want to talk about my actions back at the Voyager."
He nodded "Kind of, but not about the the fact you killed them. I realized a long time ago that some people just have it coming, and I'm sure you know that." Clark then sighed. "It's just… how you did them. Well, that and another thing: certain people are worried about, well, you being so powerful yet also willing to kill." And with 'certain people' he meant, of course, Bruce Wayne, although he wasn't the only one: the opinion that many people in the press, the goverment and the military had gotten worse when they caught wind of my actions, but fortunately they didn't have much sway in things.
"I don't care for what the paranoid, the overzealous and the insane believe of me."
Clark just frowned "They're not without reason, you know: they fear you could end up killing someone, someone innocent. I mean not deliberately, obviously" He hurried to say when I looked at him, believing he had offended me. He hadn't, but his words made me think, not just about collateral damage but also because of the fact he seemed wary of me. Superman. That… was actually not that good, when you think about it. ", but by accident."
"How so? I'm a very accurate when it comes to shooting things with heavy ordnance."
"I've seen the reports; you have at least two shotguns which fire what are for all intents and purposes artillery shells, two high-caliber machine guns, there's also your plasma gun, that blade on your wrist, explosives, a flamethrower, a freezing weapon, and a chainsaw of all things." He listed, even using his fingers to point it out. "That's a lot of firepower, you know. It makes people uneasy, unease makes them think and then believe things, and… well, I think you know how it plays out. And it's not just some government officials and general Rippers who don't like that."
I stopped when I heard that, and sighed. As much as I wanted to just ignore his words, Clark was right, the big cheese that knew more were understandably wary of me having an entire arsenal on my person and being able to put it out in a single second, not just me willing to use said arsenal.
Plus, he wasn't just talking about merely important people, but also other heroes: while many didn't see me as a monster, the only ones that were openly sympathetic to me could be counted in one hand, and remember, the League had yet to be formed. Something told me they needed more reassurance than just being told 'I'm good at avoiding collateral damage'.
And that was just their feelings towards my 'normal' guns. If (or rather, when) they discovered I had a semi-automatic rocket/missile launcher, a railgun that could defeat any and all armor made on Earth, and a plasma cannon whose power was measured in the tons even on the lowest setting, before I could explain myself, they would surely freak out. This being DC, that would snowball into something very, very bad, to put it lightly. Therefore, I had to do something. I wasn't going to tell them about my big guns yet of course, but I could start with something simple, to prove my sincerity, so to speak.
So, I decided to do something none of you might have expected from me.
I removed my helmet. In public, right in view of a growing crowd, showing everyone what I looked like, which was basically a big, bearded strongman.
Yeah, I just pulled out an Iron Man, but to be fair I had been planning on revealing my face for a while after realizing the 'secret idenity' crap was simply not for me. I mean, unlike Clark or Bruce, people would realize that the over seven foot tall, overmuscled motherfucker who, to use it as an example, runs that hot dog stand around that corner over there is in fact the alter eg of the Doom Slayer. They might have been able to pull the 'acting different and wearing something else as a disguise' schtick, but I just couldn't. Another reason was that, if I showed my real identity to not just him but the entire world, people would find me, ridiculous as it sounds, 'trustworthy'.
Another, another reason was that I wanted to look at Clark in the eyes when I spoke instead of through a faceplate with the HUD around it. It was already awkward being more than a foot taller than him, and for some reason I couldn't shut the damn thing off.
"Superman." I said to the surprised kryptonian "Do you, and the others, really believe I won't be able to distinguish between the simplest, least aggressive mugger in Manhattan, and those who are basically monsters in human skin?" In truth I was just mentalizing the Reavers at the moment to drive the point home, but then again the Reavers were just little more than space barbarians. "Or that I don't know to watch my fire. I'm a soldier, not some hunter turned avenger."
Clark shook his head, shaking (uh) his surprise.
"I told you already, It's not about you killing people, It's about how you do it. I didn't see the act, but I saw the aftermath, and I told you already about the weapons. Even though the Red Trident deserved it, you seemed less of an avenger of injustice and more of an angel of bloody death and destruction. And there is a difference between the two. Marking those that surrendered didn't help either. It scares them."
That made me think. The public crying about me being a brute didn't really faze me, but when the nicest guy out there tells you that you could be a bit more humane when killing, it does make you thing.
This was despite the fact I had only done so once as of that moment, didn't plan to do so again in the near future given everything that was happening, and had done to people who had happily caved children heads' in despite their hypocrital claims of justice. It was the equivalent of fearing the Inglorious Basterds for hunting down SS squads and slaughtering them, and carving swastikas on the survivors.
Which, to be honest, would have been the proper response to them.
"Again, do I look like a man who kills and tortures without reason? Or doesn't try his damnest to avoid collateral damage?"
He looked me over. "No, at least to me."
I shrugged my shoulders. "Then talk to them. You're Superman, remember? Many people like and trust you, even after the Apokolips fiasco. He trusts you."
Clark knew who I was talking about, and why specifically him: unlike all the others, Bruce had both the resources and the determination to try and stop me if he thought he had to.
So, we spoke some more about what to do amidst the flashes of an increasingly larger crowd, and after that he left, leaving me to patrol the Big Apple, Madrid and Saõ Paulo at my leisure for three days, stopping an arms deal, visiting the city, and stopping a fire respectively. Meanwhile, the press didn't waste time in posting my face everywhere they could and the conspiracy theoristss, secret government agents and general nutters began wondering why exactly did I do that.
And THEN, after those three days passed, I ended having my first look at the supernatural side of this world, including magic… and demons, which in turn included half-demons.
Oh, and a chain smoking, jerkass englishman with a dress who really, really made me reconsider the 'only killing the worst when they come' rule. You'll see why,
Sorry for the lack of variety and the overuse of 'wary common man' trope, and if it seems confusing, this is one of those 'keep the story going' chapters to keep my mind on tracks.
Yes, Constantine will appear, you yappering yaps. Yes, he won't be the only one.
I just realized, maybe I'm making the SI too similar to Master Chief? I mean, he's not fully silent, and when you think about it John leaves lots of blue grunt blood as he passes through Covie lines. Also, was making him reveal his identity the right move and an original choice for this kind of stories, or at least an interesting one? It's not like the SI has something to protect from bad guys by hiding his face, you know.
Last edited: Sep 4, 2021
Hellblazer I
So, as stated before, three days passed by after I talked with Clark, during which I had little else to do aside from stopping small crimes and repairing a damaged dam. It seemed that no one wanted to do the big ones that would have drawn my attention, at least until they recovered their wits.
And then VEGA says the last thing I expected to hear.
"Slayer?" I heard him say as I oversaw the construction of the test fusion reactor from my desk, the reactor itself already on its finishing stages. All that was left, aside from of course the building, was getting deuterium and tritium to power it.
That would end up taking a backseat for a few days after what happened that day… and the following four that came after.
VEGA's words made me raise an eyebrow. It was the first time he spoke to me without being prompted, at least that I remembered, and definitely the first one he spoke like he was asking me something.
"What is it VEGA?"
"I have detected two demonic presences on Earth, both located close to each other."
I fell from my seat when I heard. "Demons, here?! What kind?!" Yeah, it was kind of a comical reaction, but it was the first time since, well, EVER, that I heard the famous line.
That and, well, DEMONS.
"Their energy signal indicates they're from this dimension." VEGA informed.
I sighed, but not relief. They might have not been MY demons, but I had just enough knowledge of DC's to know they were nasty pieces of work that, in many cases, required your typical anti-supernatural weaknesses to be actually hurt, like prayers, silver or cold iron, what you have, else your average cop squad wouldn't be slaughtered/possesed without the aid of mages or priests.
Later I found out that I could just pimp-slap them to death, but at that moment I had no idea if my weapons would be effective against them. I mean, put yourselves in my boots: not all demons are the same you know.
I could had always just ignored it, but the fact VEGA had detected them at all despite the dissimilarities, and the fact he did that well after coming here, made me decide to… take care of the demons before they caused havoc. As in, rip and tear them.
"Show me their location."
Both were located on the outskirts of Barcelona. One of the presences, the larger of the two, was discovered in an apartment complex, one surrounded by a large crowd of onlookers,news crews, fire fighters, several police vehicles… and also covered with a plastic tarp, with several snipers keeping guard on the nearby buildings. That kind of crap only happened when a NBC emergency (nukes, chemical gassess, biological weapons, the usual) came up, and despite how dangerous Earth was, the procedure was barely used because of the involvement of metahumans.
That could not be good, not at all.
The other, a much smaller signature that was also in Barcelona, was located in an alley just a neighborhood away.
When I asked VEGA to show me what was there, my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when I saw… him.
A scruffy-looking, blue-eyed blonde who looked like your average private investigator, save his open jacket and the flask of booze on his hand. Only, I knew he wasn't your run of the mill detective. As a matter of fact, he wasn't exactly a private detective, at least not of the mundane.
He was John. Fucking. Constantine.
The 'Occult Detective'. Bloke from Liverpool, singer of grunge, disdainful of Hell, Heaven (and as later I found out, Woking), smoker of the million cigarettes, drinking of the whisky gallon, and the closest thing DC had to a non-overpowered Doctor Strange despite not using his magic that much compared to his magical peers.
He would also end up earning the title of 'Brit Who Can't Shut His Yapper'.
And at that moment, he was speaking with a small, red demon hunched over a pentagram.
For the third time since I arrived here, I was overcome with shock, not because of the demon since I was the demon slayer of demon slayers, but because of the fact the protagonist from a fairly underused storyline in a DCAU-based world. I mean, yes, Gotham and Bruce were mostly Arkham-based, and the games were rather disturbing by themselves, but those I had already known of since the beginning, while I didn't know Constantine even existed here!
Still, despite the fact I knew (well, believed) he was more than capable of controlling any demon he summoned, it didn't mean I would let him keep interrogating the imp. I mean, c'mon, I'm Doomguy, I'm supposed to hate demons and kill 'em dead no matter the source! Plus, I thought it was time to show someone my real job, even if I didn't actually tell them.
So, with shotgun in hand and goal in mind, I opened a portal to the alley and aimed at the imp the moment I came out. Constantine was his usual apathetic, a bit drunk self and therefore didn't react fast enough to the usually amazement-inspiring blue portal and me stepping out of it fast enough, but the imp did.
Just not as fast as it probably wanted.
"What the-" That was the most the little freak of nature got to say before I blew him apart in a single shot. Aside from the satisfaction of finally killing a demon since becoming the Slayer, this showed me two important pieces of critical information:
-A DOOM demon he wasn't, not really tough. Therefore, most other demons here would be the same.
-At the very least, the aforementioned fact meant the weaker demons could eat lead without trouble.
Sadly, I DID ruin Constantine's job in a rather rude manner AND cover him in demonic blood.
Oh, and I had done so while he was taking a sip from his flask, so he also chocked AND accidentally dropped his flask, spilling the precious liquor on the disgusting alley floor.
"You killed my contact, you twat!" He screamed at me between coughs. Years of smoking non-stop had left his voice nearly as gravelly as Wolverine's. "And made me drop my flask!"
I shrugged. "I do not like demons, and let's leave it at that."
His annoyance and anger evaporated when he finally stopped coughing and then gave me a good look up and down… and then walked around me to confim that I was real. "Wait, you're that Doom Slaying guy, aren't you?"
" Slayer." I corrected him. Funny, how quickly he recovered from losing his drink and, you know, seeing me of all people up front.
"Tomato, potato, whatever the hell americans say." Constantine replied. "Okay, this crazy. Never expected to meet you of all gun-toting vigilantes out there. Why did you come here? And how, exactly, did you know my informant was a demon? He could have been some mutated rat with wing you know."
"You opened a gate to another dimension. Cannot be sure what might come through, you already know if you watch the news. And that creature was a deadringer for your average demon, and I've known for a while that both Heaven and Hell are real." I said as I erased the pentagram on the ground. He didn't need to know everything, not yet, and didn't want them to possibly eavesdrop on us. "I don't like interdimensional creatures, much less demons."
Constantine grumbled as he watched the imp's blood burn away… and scorch his jacket as it did so. "I knew that already, EVERYONE does as a matter of fact.."
I put the shotgun back into Hammerspace and then looked at the detective. "Why did you summon a demon?"
Constantine just glared at me before sighing. "You know, nobody has ever been able to pinpoint me during a job. I… needed firsthand information."
"For what? I might help."
He signaled me to follow him outside the alley to a spot where we were still hidden, then pointed at the nearby apartment building as he took a whiff from a cigarette he produced. "A few months ago, some catholic bloke brought a portuguese lass here after she got possessed by a demon the previous year, to see if he could kick the demon out of her. A little over a month ago he went dark. The Vatican then asked me of all people to go and see if I could take both back and try and exorcise the girl with my 'skills'" He said with air quotes. "Usually I tell them to piss off any time they call me for my services, but this time was about a poor girl being possessed by a demon.
That interested me. "Would you have helped them if the demon had possesed the priest instead of the girl?"
Again, he took a smoke as he stared at the apartment building. "Don't care if some priest pisses off the wrong demon prince and gets his soul nabbed because of it, might have brought it upon himself, but I don't like it when its the innocent who suffer THAT, much less children."
"How serious."
He looked at me with a steely look. "The fact not even the Vatican's own exorcists could free her should tell you something, space marine."
Something told me I had seen this before, but where? Definitely not DOOM. "Why is the building in quarantine then?"
He took another whiff as we the small media spectacle watched from afar. "Dunno what the hell did he do, but the entire place's been quarantined since fiver hours ago after someone called the firefighters."
"What for?"
"Something about a screaming lady. Pretty sure she's the girl." He replied. "Twenty minutes after they went in the police covered the entire place up, covering it up saying something about a dangerous virus that had somehow found its way into the building." He took another whiff and then glared at me. "Could have found out everything that was going on until you came and blew my informant to smithreens. Can't use clairvoyance to scout the place either, something's blocking me out. I think it's the freak."
That wouldn't have been everything he got from the imp. He had been speaking to it for a few minutes at least. "Did you get something from it at least?"
"Yeah. Little bastard rhymed too much and tried to be as bloody cryptic as possible, as always, but I did get him to say something about 'blood' and 'it spreading'."
'Blood' and 'it spreading'. Just the fact this involved demons and those words made me feel a bit uneasy… and have déjà vu. At the same time, however, I wanted to help. I mean, I was already there, and as already stated I was Doom Slayer, demon slayer extraordinaire.
"Say, I planned to go in there through the sewers, but since you came with that teleporty thing, and seem so willing to help me out… You need an image or something?
I merely shook my head as VEGA opened a portal behind me. "Don't need one. I take the lead."
Sorry for the (relative, all things given) lack of length and genuine story plot, and overall crude writing, despite being THE chapter many of you have been asking for, didn't see the need to make it any longer. Otherwise, was my portrayal of John accurate to the comics, or at least the general idea of him? And don't worry, the annoyance part will come later, for now he'll be serious due to the circumstances.
Also, fun note for the story's background: Games Workhsop exists here, and so do both Warhammer series. John is british, has just called the SI a space marine, and they're about to face a demon. He might not be really surprised when the beans end up inevitably spilled out.
Last edited: Sep 11, 2021
Hellblazer II
Of all the weirdos, freaks and nutters that were collectivelly known as 'heroes', John never expected to basically team up with the newest one, who also had the most outlandish name AND backstory: Doom Slayer, a soldier from an alternative Earth. John could call bullshit when he saw it, but he didn't know much about the guy, aside from him having his base on Mars, being pretty damn strong, and most importantly a gun user not afraid to rip people apart with said guns… and his bare hands.
John grimaced when he remembered the pictures of what he did to those underwater wankers. There were demons more restrained than him.
At the same time, one doesn't call himself Doom Slayer and end up not killing anything. Plus, the fact he was not afraid of killing and more than willing to being worse than them made him a good deal better than that cowl-wearing nutjob from Gotham, at least to John.
'I mean, one thing is not stooping to their level, another is to send the bloody Jack the Clown to the madhouse, instead of the morgue.' He wasn't critical of Batman's actions per se, he was just annoyed at the Bat's adherence to the Fifth Commandment.
And then there was the strange… energy, for lack of a better way to describe whatever he felt when he looked at the guy. It wasn't magical in nature, and he pretty much doubted it was normal radiation, but he was practically radiating with it.
'Like some kind of eldritch Elephan'ts Foot.' He thought as he waited a few seconds to follow after Slayer secured the area or something like that.
He couldn't exactly pinpoint what exactly it was. Plus, despite everything he knew about Slayer, namely his strict code of good and evil and how to deal with the extreme of the latter, he didn't fancy having his skull crushed by a space soldier, at least not yet. He could always ask the guy later, or get some demon or ghost to attack him and try and get results from the massacre, for now it was time to work.
Crossing the portal after Doom Slayer, John found himself surrounded by darkness. Conjuring a light to see around, the occultist saw they were on the ground floor of the apartment building, your typical lobby with a kiosk near the entrance and a sectional door on the back. It would have been a normal sight, if not for the literal gallon of blood spilled on the floor. Dry blood.
And then he heard someone scream. No, not someone, something.
Turning around, he saw Doom Slayer holding a screaming woman by the throat, near the stairs. By the face and clothing of the brunette, she had to be middle-aged, with a body clearly wracked by at least one pregnancy, and she did not have the looks of a worker… In other words, she was your average homemaker.
Well, more like had been, given the blood on her clothes.
It was a daunting sight, seeing the seemingly hapless mother being painfully restrained by a super known but for the wrong reasons: the woman was clearly furious and bloodthirsty, instead of scared shitless by the soldier from the future, and her screams were somehow distorted, maybe even…
Demonic.
John sighed "Definitely possessed." He muttered. Not the last time an inhabitant from Hell controlling a living body couldn't stop itself from accidentally revealing its presence in a stupid manner just by opening the poor sod's mouth.
Just when the giant of a man was about to do something that would have definitely have killed the possessed woman (he only raised his free arm, but even a forceful poke from a guy that could stop a speeding train would have pierced her skull), John stopped him by grabbing his shoulder, having to fully raise his arm to do so. He wanted to try something.
"Wait, don't kill her yet. I gotta try and save her soul or whatever, remember?"
The Doom Slayer looked at him, and then at the snarling woman.
"It bites." He warned. He also didn't say 'her, but 'it'. That didn't bode well, that's for sure. It also meant that Doom Slayer might not really care about the innocent slaves of a demon, but hey, not all could be saved from their grasp.
"I know, I know." John waved him off as he got closer to the prisoner, taking care to not getting too close to clawing range. No way he'd let some spaniard bitch scratch his face. First, he inspected her from a safe distance.
She had the red eyes and the manic expression, but at the same time something didn't add up: blood dripped from from her mouth and her eyes but these seemed to be untouched, she had bites across her body, and then there was the fact she was acting like a mindless animal, not even bothering to arm herself or use magic.
'What kind of demon are you, mate?' John thought to himself as he continued inspecting the woman.
Up close she didn't look like someone whose body had been taken over by an inhabitant from Hell… As a matter of truth, she looked more like someone suffering some sort of rabies than your average demon host/vehicle. This was definitely not your average possession, that was for sure. But according to the Vatican, the possessed girl, Medeiros, couldn't be any older than twenty. Did the demon jump hosts? If so, why did it use bites instead of possessing her outright?
Most importantly now that the demon changed victims, what happened to everyone else? Did it just kill them, leaving their corpses on the upper floors? Not exactly impossible since he had seen a possessed midget go on a bloody rampage across a pub, but he still did so with a fireaxe and a shotgun, and with that kind of body she could have been restrained by a young copper or fireman.
And then, just as he was about to compel it to speak, the bitch's eyes focused on him, and she stopped trying to free herself.
"John Constantine!" The voice that came from the woman's mouth was not human, most definitely the demon controlling her.
John merely smiled. "Well, hello there beatiful. Nice to now even the spaniards know about me."
"Every demon in Hell knows about you, John Constantine!" She screamed as she kept struggling to free herself.
"Yeah, yeah." John waved her off before looking up at Slayer. "This sounds stupid, but try to hold her still, will ya? I need her inmobile."
The Slayer gave a light nod and did as John asked… by dislocating the possessed's limbs one by one and… 'tying' them to the railing. Good thing the demon-possessed woman didn't feel pain, John hated hearing the screaming of people having their limbs used as makeshift ropes.
The fact Doom Slayer just crippled an innocent victim of Hell didn't evade him, but he figured the guy had some super-advanced healing bullshit that would repair the damage after kicking the freak out of her. Even if he didn't, John himself could mend her a bit. Still, a warning would have been nice.
"Didn't need to break her bones, ya know." He told Slayer, who shrugged at his 'berating', before turning back to the woman. "Now, let's see what's hiding under the surface…"
John casted a spell to force the demon to respond his every question, to get as much info as he could before kicking it out of the host… and discovered something that actually shocked him: nothing.
As in, he couldn't feel either the demon or the woman's soul inside the body. There simply was nothing inside, and the woman should have been little more than a slowly-dying vegetable for lack of a soul, yet she obviously could move, and he could hear her heart still pumping, so she wasn't undead. This was a first.
'What the shit did I embroil myself into this time? Fucking catholics!'
He shook his stupor and adressed the creature. "Where are you hiding, asshole?"
The bitch stopped screaming and then smiled a toothy, bloodied grin.
"In your mother's cunt! You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She- it sneered. It was pointless to use feminine pronouns without knowing the demon's gender.
"Oh, c'mon, do I look THAT desperate to you?" He grinned back before finishing the spell and blasting the woman with it. It wouldn't last long, but he was confident it would be enough to get some answers. "Now, where are you hiding at, and how did this happen? No metaphorical stuff, no cryptic shite, straight to the point, alright? Don't try to resist if you don't want to feel how much pain can the human body withstand… and THEN, I'll give you to Doom Slayer here." He gestured at said soldier. "Believe me, he's one creative bloke when it comes to punishing the wicked."
The demon tried to resist, but John didn't earn the hatred of a good portion of Hell (and a smaller one of Heaven) for nothing. "The body of the girl I'm controlling is sealed in the penthouse; Albelda made sure that I wouldn't get out."
Finally, a name! "Albelda?"
The demon sneered. "He's the curate who decided to use my host to try and fire a solution to possession! Funny, given he deliberately injected children with the tained blood and fed me human body parts to keep me docile, or so he thought!"
'Well, fuck' John thought. He knew that some of the Vatican's people were assholes, but curates? All he had met in person had been as kindly as good as they seemed to be. Then again, if Albelda thought he could find a way to counter demonic possessions, he probably thought that stopping them from enslaving people would be worth Hell.
The demon kept talking. "The fool thought he could stop me and any future demon from taking over mortals by creating a… vaccine! As if science can stop us from taking what we want!" It said in a sarcastic tone. Had it beeen able to, it probably would have used air quotes. "Instead, he provided me with a efficient, quick way to ensnare souls AND create an army of soulless maniacs I can control as one!"
John cursed under his breath. If what the demon was saying was true (and knowing these kind of demons, it probably was), they weren't dealing with your average demonic possession, but a literal demonic infection that spread through people like some sort of, for lack of a better term, zombie virus. A supernatural zombie virus, instead of a man/alien-made one. That was a first.
So, Romero and Argento ended up being partly-right. Too bad the dead were neither slow, nor actually dead, at least in body.
Were it not for the fact it was actually happening, and he was the one charged to clean the mess, John would have laughed at the idea.
"Now all I need to do is to escape this wretched building, infect the population, and scourge the planet in search of her!"
That made John to raise an eyebrow in confusion. 'Her'? "Who's her?"
But the demon sneered. "I won't say more, your spell is no more! Nothing you can offer me can sway me, and you can't threaten me with this man-shaped creature that reeks of power!"
Doom Slayer tightened his grip on its neck at this last part, and John could see his free hand clench into a fist. Well, at least he wasn't the only one getting a strange feeling from the big lug. Still, maybe he could get some more info from this.
"Say, would you be willing to tell me more about whoever this lass is if I-" He began to say before the demon roared at him.
"I don't want your stinking soul, Constantine!" It cried. "I know your tricks, human, they won't work on me! I shall speak no more about my mission!"
Damn, first smart demon who refused a (not really) free soul.
"You and your monster friend's bodies will be a great addition to my army!"
Oh, right, he had momentarily forgotten, it had infected everyone in the building. They could not be saved, much less the Medeiros girl; even if (well, more like when) the two of them got to the girl and dispatched her, the others would still be soulless husks, basically motion-able vegetables.
John grimaced. This was the third time he came too late, and the first time more than a dozen souls had been taken to the Biggest House, for no reason than sharing the same building a crazy priest did.
"Your souls will burn in Hell forever, adding two more to my hoard!" It cackled.
Doom Slayer, not bothering to wait for John to even open his mouth, tightened his hold on the still cackling woman's neck before completely crushing it, popping the head off. John could imagine a sneer of disgust on his face behind that helmet.
The moment he did so, several animal-like screams coming from at least a few dozen throats echoed throughout the entire building, followed by the rushed steps of the owners of said throats rushing down the stairs. Seventy soulless husks knew they were there, and all of them wanted their blood, and very possibly escape and murder and infect anyone they could get their filthy hands on, and start a bonafida apocalypse worthy of getting the 'A' treatment.
Over their dead bodies.
John grunted as he lightened a cigarette and took a smoke. He always did so before a big fight, which was a rare occurrence. "Whelp, there's no turning back now. We'll have to fight our way through those poor bastards and get the wanker."
Doom Slayer merely pullet out that bigass shotgun of his. "To the penthouse then." Then Doom Slayer looked above at the approaching horde of pseudo-zombies, and did something that, to be honest, the detective had expected of him given who he was.
A one-liner about putting the infected out of their misery, like some corny action hero from the eighties? A roar of rage that would have shaken the entire damn building and challenged the infected? An oath to protect all that was good and pure, like the Lad in Blue, as some called Superman back on the Isles?
None of those.
He merely cocked his shotgun and waited for the first infected, a bald firefighter with a sledgehammer, to reach the floor down to them, at which point giving him a bodyful of futuristic buckshot for his troubles that completely disintegrated him.
John smiled grimly before summoning a fire on his left hand and then throwing it at an old asian man that had been smart enough to jump over the railing, followed by another.
He could already hear Goblin's music blaring off on the back of his head.
So, how was the chapter? Less action, more narrative, I know, but I wanted to save the brutality for the next chapter. Did I write Constantine's personality and attitude right? And the cockney slang?
Obviously the REC side of the arc is not goint to be a complete copy-paste of the first film: for example, there are only eighteen people, but I raised it here to seventy infected because, well, it will make the slaughter last (a bit) longer than a minute, and therefore allow Constantine to shine. Yes, I know, canon John isn't exactly a fighter, nor an offensive magic-user all things given, but I'm basing this itineration of him on the DC Animated Movies Universe, who's basically a D mage.
Goblin is the band that recorded the OST of the original Dawn of the Dead, and its music is much heavily featured on the european cut. Yeah, John knows this is basically a zombie apocalypse.
Last edited: Sep 13, 2021
Hellblazer III
Our nearly unspoken plan was simple: force our way through the apartment to get to the penthouse, kill every infected in the way, enter the penthouse, pull the demon out of the husk of the Medeiros girl, and then leave before the authorities came in, after which I would make up an story about an alien parasite that could turn people into mindless puppets, with their major organs active but their brains entirely dead because I neither could nor wanted to hide the massacre from the public.
The fact some of the infected didn't remain human helped.
As for the demon itself, you're probably wondering why didn't I say that I would squash it like a bug, or better yet, give it to Constantine. Don't misunderstand me, I WOULD kill it… but not before cutting it up and finish Albelda's work.
The curate's goal of making a vaccine against demonic possession was noble, and his idea to accomplish it made sense from a scientific point of view… but sadly, he made the mistake of trying to accomplish his task with a purely scientific method, and he had done his research not only in the must inhuman manner possible, but also in a completely unsafe environment. Because of that, more than fifty people had been turned into mindless, soulless monsters.
A perfectly sealed dissection table on Mars, inside a castle from which nothing could get out without my express permission, and which in turn was surrounded by an array of defenses that could destroy a one-inch wide target several miles away, and all under the control of a man who have demonstrated a strength and durability level close to Superman's, though? A safer environment couldn't be found, at least in this cluster of the Orion Arm.
Having said that, let's go back to mine and Constantine's cleansing of the apartment building.
Calling the infected 'zombies' would be a compliment to zombies everywhere, both undead and living ones. They were nearly as tough and just as relentless as the former, but had the speed, intelligence, capacity to use weapons and unrelenting rage of the latter, to the point they reminded me of the armed zombies from DOOM.
All that said, however, they were up against me and Constantine, so their strengths meant nothing against us. Constantine chucked fireballs left and right, when he wasn't just throwing them over the railing down below (while it was kind of an stupid move on the lower floors given how resilient they were, it stopped being so as we went our way up), and I, well, I was Doom Slayer.
"How many floors are left?!" Constantine shouted as he uppercutted an old woman before burning her head, and then snapping her neck. "I'm getting tired of these daft bastards!"
"Six." I replied as I blew apart a balding gentleman. By then we had already killed little more than their total number without as much as tiring. Why did the demon keep sending his puppets against us. "And it's your fault that some come from behind us."
Constantine screamed. "Sod of, you wanker!" He cursed at me, though he was smirking as he did so.
What we didn't know at that moment was that, because of the hivemined the infected shared with the original demon, the creature could see us as we tore our way through his thralls.
It would be the first local demon to learn firsthand what it feels to feel fear.
Fear of John Constantine.
Fear of me.
Several floors above the two, hidden within the darkness of the warped penthouse of the building, the source of the evil that had happened on the place, a disgusting creature shaped like a worm sent its army, and saw, felt firsthand how good they were at fighting, at killing.
For the first time since it had come to the corporeal world, the Worm was afraid. Not wary of the duo's prowess, not furious that its extensions were practically worhtless, not concerned that they were actually getting closer and closer to it, but outright afraid of the unimaginable turn of events that was happening after a long night spreading terror across the building.
It already had an idea of what the despised Constantine would do to it if he reached its host, heard of those demons the bastard had outgambitted and scammed.
However, between Constantine and the soldier, it was the latter who scared the Worm the most, and not just because of the brutal way he dispatched the infected.
There was something about him, At first glance it looked like some kind of power, one that came from his soul, and it wasn't magic. However, even with the true sight that it shared with its hellish kind, it still couldn't make head or tails of what kind of energy was he emanating, only that it was as supernatural at it (the Worm) was.
Which was why the Worm was doing its damnest to kill him, rather than infect him as he had planned with Constantine: the wizard's magic was tied to his soul, a soul that would surely spent eternity in excruciating torture, and the Worm was certain that the soldier's strength came from his. Therefore, the moment tainted blood touched his, he'd become nothing more than another living meat puppet under his will, although a particularly big, strong one.
'Maybe strong enough', it realized, 'to force its way out of the quarantine!'
The Worm changed its mind: he would try everything to infect them. With the brute's strength compensating for their reduced numbers, the infected would barrel through the containment tarp and attack any mortal they could get their hands on; its consciousness would spread across Barcelona too fast for either the Spanish armed forces or the Church to respond.
Soon, it would have an army worthy of the name.
And then it would be able to find her. It was, after all, the whole reason he possessed the Medeiros girl.
Still, it didn't change the fact the brute was an enigma to i.
'Who are you?', the Worm thought as it sent down its first, hastily made contingency to stop the intruders: several infected children. It knew by experience that most mortals balked at the idea of hurting children, even those not of their blood. Even that bastard englishman would no doubt stop long enough to let the soulless creatures infect them. 'It matters not. Soon, you will nothing more than a puppet'
It would get a very, very nasty surprise.
As we kept ascending, resistance became slightly stiffer: the infected that attacked us directly carried weapons (mostly knives, cleavers, and anything they could get their hands on, although a couple carried hunting shotguns, as I stated previously), those who didn't threw stuff at us from the upper floors, tried to ambush us by hiding on rooms… It was all for naught, but it did prove that the demon was not stupid. I also noticed that the infected began focusing more on me, specifically my unarmored elbows, and given their gaping mouths, I quickly deduced why.
It would have been useless. Aside from the fact I was completely inmune to the tained blood, my skin was simply too tough. After all, King Shark, a demigod, had bit me there and he didn't even get through my skin it despite his bite being strong enough to cut a man in half.
Sadly, letting them bite me and receive wouldn't have recovered their souls, it just doesn't work that way.
As we fought, an infected cop, one of the very few in possession of a gun, in this case with a pistol, ran up at me firing its weapon, every shot hitting me right in the helmet.
The moment it came close enough, I cut it in half, then grabbed its weapon and whatever clips it had left and threw them at Constantine.
"I didn't need a gun, but thanks anyway!" He said before blasting away at the infected. His shooting skills were average at best, but not once he shot at me, so and never missed the infected. Being a globe-travelling Occult Detective must have had its perks.
That said, between him and me, he had by far the smaller killcount.
An infected I tore apart. Another I ripped in half. Another yet I decapitated with a backhand. A fourth I grabbed and then threw to a fifth with enough force to make them splatter against the wall. And so on, and so on, I pretty much exterminated any infected that got too close to me.
I focused on killing them, because that way I wouldn't focus on the fact that an entire apartment block worth of people, children included, had been condemned to Hell for eternity. Sure, this wasn't DOOM's Hell where everyone not a demon ended up tortured and harvested, but it was still a place of eternal torture and dispair.
And then, just when we were only three floors from the demon's hiding spot, I heard Constantine shout and point at something waiting for us in front of the stairs.
It was a group of children. Filthy, red-eyed children who were clearly not normal anymore, but children nonetheless. There were four of them, all under the age of ten, with a small girl who couldn't have been much older than five at the head of the group.
Their presence stopped us from our rampage.
"Bloody hell…" I heard John mutter in a mix of shock and anger. Given his career, he must have seen something like this before.
I just stared at the 'children'. On the one hand, well, they looked like scared boys and girls crying out of sheer terror, but on the other I knew they just weren't human, not anymore.
That fact made me even angrier. Not only did that freak take the souls of the innocent to an eternity of pain and terror, it also had the gall to use their bodies like that, to entice people into lowering their guard.
Too bad for it, its little trick wouldn't work on us.
And made me angrier.
The lead infected stepped forwards to me.
"Please, mister." It said in spanish, its voice human in tone unlike the first infected's. ", my mommy turned into a-"
I didn't let it finish: the moment it opened its mouth, I grabbed it by the head and then, without hesitation, gave it the cleanest death I had performed since arriving here: snapping its neck.
The other infected, realizing they couldn't fool us, screeched and charged at me.
Needless to say, they didn't do much before I reenacted what I did to the girl.
Had it had an actual mouth, the Worm (and not just its current host) would have cried in horror… and terror.
The soldier killed the children.
Nay, it diddn't just kill them: it butchered them without as much as a second thought, grabbing their little heads and twisting them with stupid ease, one by one! Like the lion amidst the sheep!
At that moment, hundreds of questions appeared on the Worm's mind.
What hero could ignore the instinct to save infants and then massacre them?
Would his last resort stop the beast and the loathsome magician?
What could it do against such a relentless monster, a beast that might as well sent by Heaven itself with such unrelenting power and will of iron, hellbent on killing it?!
'What are you?!' The Worm screamed as the last puppet died, severing the connection with that floor.
I stood there, motionless, over the corpses of the former humans I had killed. Even though their deaths had been clean and quick, I hadn't even put them out of their misery, since their souls hadn't been trapped there, but in Hell, one I had no knowledge of beyond the basics.
"Slayer…" I heart Constantine say. "You okay, big boy?"
I may have said several times before that the Occult Detective would end up making me contemplate shove a box of cigarettes down his throat, but that would be much later.
I didn't bother to respond, thinking as I was of what I just did. True, they had long ceased to be boys and girls, and from a certain point of view my actions had been necessary, since they could have slipped us and somehow escaped outside… but it didn't change the fact I killed the soulless, hivemind-controlled bodies of children.
No wonder all the demons you kill in DOOM are all adults, and clearly undead.
Again, I stood there, contemplating the bodies.
And then I thought of the demon that took their souls and used their bodies. Everything it had done only made me add more and more horrible experiments to inflict upon it before killing it. Again, though, we had to reach it first.
"Remember, those things weren't human anymore, just soulless husks-" He began to say, possibly trying to comfort me, before I stopped him.
"I'm alright." I replied. I wasn't exactly lying." We must stop it, before more suffer their fate."
Constantine merely nodded.
Finally, after however many minutes and killing several more infected, we reached the last floor before the penthouse where the demon hid, and the last four infected that remained. These, however, could not longer be considered merely infected humans: they had grown taller and bulkier, their nails had been pushed out by claws, and their teeth had sharpened into fangs. It seemed that the infection was also capable of mutating those it afflicted after a time. To be honest, this reminded me of the film.
Unfortunately for them, their mutations would still not be enough to fight us. They were valuable enough for me to merely break one's neck, though, as proof of the 'alien parasitic infection' cover-up.
"That bastard is waiting for us behind that door." Constantine said as he kicked a dead pseudo-demon. "I had planned to just kill it, tell the Vat, and be done with it. You?"
"Extract it if possible, take it back to the Fortress to finish Albelda's work by torturing it until it dies, tell the public a version of the event to not cause panic across the planet, and then give the vaccine to the Vatican… alongside a recording of this. I might require your expertise for the experiments."
Constantine, rather than ponder on my response, merely nodded. "Usually I would ask for some more dosh for working extra, but I consider this part of the Vatican's job. Besides, that wanker has hit a nerve."
We stood in front of the dusty door, waiting if the demon came out itself. After a minute of nothing happening, and then the mandatory count to five, I kicked down the door and barged inside the room with Constantine in tow, guns raised and spells prepared.
And then, as we looked around the darkened room, something slammed into me.
Sorry for the cliffhanger, wanted to post the chapter this day.
Was the scene with the infected children done right? Did I go overboard by using them… and killing them? I mean, in the sequel they do kill the girl, and there's also the matter of the the japanese's son, who we didn't see after the infected escaped the workshop.
Lord_Anthrax said:
Speaking of that
ifwhen this gets back to the Justice league there going to be annoyed since to someone who doesn't know about the demonic infestation or deal with it often it's going to look like Doom Slayer and some British asshole just attacked an apartment building
Click to expand…
Click to shrink…
First, as I have said several times before, the League doesn't exist yet. Second, they (well, Doom Slayer mostly) already have an alibi in the form of an alien infiltration. Well, that and the following chapter expanding things further.
As for the infected becoming demon-like, that's a nod to Demons, a 1985 italian horror movie, which basically was proto-REC given the 'demoninc possession that spreads through bites' thing.
Last edited: Sep 20, 2021
Hellblazer IV
The moment they came inside, John heard an unholy screech coming from around them in the dark, followed by something charging at Doom Slayer and slamming into him with enough force to shove him out of the room. When he got a got look at it, John's eyes narrowed in recognition… and disgust.
It had to be the portugese girl the Vatican had told him about… but months of being possessed had turned her into an emaciated shadow of what she once had been: at least seven feet tall, impossibly thing, a grey skin covered in pustules, and a jaw that was simply too damn big for her head.
And then it spoke, the true voice of the freak that had started the madness.
"I'll kill you, monster!" It screeched at Doom Slayer as they wrestled on the ground.
'You couldn't have said something more ironic, couldn't you, slag?' John thought. The guy had proved himself to be practically impervious to damage, but in the not-so remote possibility that he was like Superman, weak to magic or something similar (King Shark didn't exactly count), he didn't want to find out if he was able or not to shrug having a fireball thrown at him by an ally… or if he did, still getting pissed because Constantine threw fire at him like a certain plant-man. Not again.
However, that didn't mean he couldn't try to exorcise the demon inside, although given the situation he didn't dare getting close to the two brawlers.
"Slayer, let her go! I wanna try and exorcise it!"
The Doom Slayer didn't respond, busy as he was fighting with the freak. Either he didn't want to kill her, which he seriously doubted given what the other infected had been like… or the demon had made her that strong. He liked neither possibility.
That said, he did hear him, because he grabbed the monster by the neck and raised it above his head. John chanted the encantation of the spell that would kick the demon out of the body (usually he would have sent it back to Hell, but as stated before the situation didn't allow him) so that the Doom Slayer could capture it with either his stupid strength or his bullshit tech, and then chucked the magic sphere at the thing, impacting and illuminating the entire room for the briefest moment, although not enough for John to discern his surroundings.
Nothing happened. The bitch screamed like a banshee and flopped on the soldier's grasp for a couple of seconds before trying once more to rip the Doom Slayer's faceplate off. It seemed that the 'hiding inside human body' part it screeched about before was literal, because otherwise it would still be out of the girl.
Only one option left, then, if the Doom Slayer wanted to grind it up for the vaccine..
"Rip it out of her belly!" He yelled at the soldier. The girl herself was simply no longer there, it was just a meat puppet. "Trust me, that's where I would hide if I was a tapeworm!"
However, before the Doom Slayer could to so, the possessed Medeiros, with a strength that a body that small simply couldn't have, grabbed the man's left arm and, after raising him above her head, slammed him several times against the floor, raising a cloud of dust that impaired John's vision even more, and with such strength the entire room shook from the force of the strikes.
And then, when the Slayer turned the tables and grabbed her by the head to do the same, and before he could rip the demon out of her living guts, the floor below them gave up.
Both combatants fell down the broken tiles and onto the depths of the building, breaking floors as they plummeted to ground level, leaving an astounded John behind.
"Slayer!" He screamed down the hole, receiving a roar of pain as response, followed by the sounds of something tough hitting flesh and bone. John gave a little sigh of relief: he knew the future soldier could handle the freak, but still, even the meanest sods of London's slums could get worried once in a while.
In another occasion John would have immediatly rushed down the stairs to help his newfound ally, but now that he was in the room that Albelda had been residing in for an unknown amount of time to experiment, he decided to take a look around, see if there was something of interest for him, and discover what exactly did just happen before they got there. Who knows, maybe the curate hid a holy manuscript up there.
Or money. He was dead, it wasn't like his corpse would miss a million pesetas, no?
Muttering the enchantation of an light spell, John raised his hand and illuminating the room.
Looking around the place, what John saw made him frown and curse outloud.
Photos, spanish and portuguese newspaper, files about tests and other paraphernalia about the Medeiros girl, alongside medical equipment and other such things John didn't want to know about. Apparently the Vatican didn't bother to tell him that the possession hadn't been covered, nevermind the fact he simply forgot to ask more than the absolutely necessary (or at least what he believed was the absolutely necessary).
However, it wasn't this discovery what made him freeze.
There, in the floor of the penthouse, and incidentally mere yards away from the hole, laid two bodies, both of them clearly dead. One was of a young man, a cameraman by the fact he had one laying near his head, and the other was… an exact copy of the possessed girl that was currently fighting for her 'life' several floors down below?
"The fuck is happening here?" He muttered to himself as he approached them for an improptu inspection. Frowning, he saw that the man, a brunette barely out of his thirties, had been killed with his eyes open in terror, with several parts of his bocy smashed by something blunt, which he guessed had been a hammer of some sort; on the other hand, his otherwise normal appearance and lack of excessive blood meant he had died human, and therefore his sould was in a better place.
With a sigh, John closed the poor lad's eyes. At the very least this nameless sod was actually resting in peace (that, or passing through the trials of Purgatory to get there), instead of being sent straight to Hell like the others had been.
One out of seventy, children included.
After that John turned to inspect the other corpse. A quick scanning spell confirmed that this one was indeed the Medeiros girl, the real deal, which by extension meant whoever the Slayer was fighting merely looked like her because of the demon.
So, the demon had jumped hosts and turned his new vehicle into an exact copy of the Medeiros girl. For what, he didn't know. Maybe it was fond of demaciated women?
Thinking that maybe it had the key to everything that happened, and guessing that Slayer wouldn't need him for a short while, John grabbed the camera to see what it had recorded. Luckily for him, the thing still had enough juice for fifteen minutes.
What John watched made him: firefighters, cops and news crew get in, infected elder attacks and infects cop and firefighter, the coppers cordon off the area, guy from the MH comes and tells them about the outbreak and a supposedly rabid dog that they tracked there, the little girl that the Doom Slayer killed turns out to be infected, everyone sans the news crew turns into a zombie, the two get to the penthouse… and meet the Medeiros girl, or, rather, the demon inside her, who then beats the guy to death with a hammer.
The recording ended with the girl being dragged into the darkness, screaming… and then having the demon (a worm-like freak of nature) shoved down her throat.
John, morose but otherwise satisfied, turned off the camera.
"Shit seemed like a goddamn horror movie." He mused. And all of that had happened in less than three hours. Three bloody hours to infect an entire building the slow way, and it hadn't gotten worse because they got the dog in time. If the thing got out of the building and started puking blood at everything it saw… And that still didn't say why did it turn that girl into an exact copy of the Medeiros girl.
And, most important of all, who was the 'her' the demon spoke about, the one it was supposed to find? Another demon like it? An important condemned soul that had managed to get out of Hell? Someone who had pissed off a demon prince? All he knew
They needed the parasite alive, at least for the moment.
John sighed as he stood up. "Hope the big guy has already ripped that damn thing out."
And then, just as he was about to run out of the room up with camera in hand so that the Vatican could see firsthand the clusterfuk, he heard the freak roar from below, and then felt the entire building shake in a way he didn't like.
As in, half of the goddamned facade chose that exact moment to fall down, taking the damn tarp down with it! The entire damn place was falling apart! Rather than ponder just how the hell didn't he notice it before, or why hadn't the entire building fallen when the facade did, John chose to leg it before it collapsed with him still inside, but not without sending the camera to the House of Mystery to later send its recording to the Vatican.
And THEN he did run like Hell.
"Fuck, bugger, shit…" He screamed every swear of the english language he knew as he rushed down the stairs, the apartment block falling apart around and behind him. "This can't get worse, can it?!" His legendary luck chose that moment to make the snipers outside to blast at the uncovered building when they saw John running down the stairs, their shots landing dangerously close to him. "Yes, yes it can!" He sped up, dodging falling rubble and jumping over holes as he went.
When he finally decided to just jump to the ground floor and rush through the door, the building finally came down on itself, releasing a ginormous cloud of dust that covered the entire street, causing the crowd around the building to run away, and burying the infected's bodies.
As for John?
After getting up from the asphalt he had fell on, and cursing Doom Slayer, God and several other deities for nearly getting him crushed or shot, he began dusting himself.
"Bloody space marine could have tried and keep it tight and let me get down the fucking stairs, but nooo, he had to bring the entire damn building down with me still inside! And the damn coppers thought I was a goddamn zombie! Fuck!" He had been in life-threatening situations before, but this was the first one that didn't (fully) involve the supernatural; the closest had been that mafia chase back in Monaco.
All that said, John was fine and dandy.
But then, he remembered that Doom Slayer had been fighting the demon. Sighing yet again, John delved into the cloud. He pretty much doubted that Doom Slayer needed his aid, but someone had to make sure the guy didn't accidentally kill someone that didn't deserve it.
'Where are you, you big green bastard?' He thought as he looked around and moved through the cloud of dust, trying to discern either the huge frame of his temporary compadre or the outright eldritch silhouette of the demon's host, and pushing out anyone he bumped into to both keep them safe and to not bump into them again.
And what does he see when he finally meets up with the big greeb dobber, and the cloud finally dispersed, granting John full vision? The Doom Slayer surrounded on all sides by GEO troopers, all of them aiming their guns at the soldier, their officer in charge shouting at him to get down to the ground, something with which he obviously didn't comply. Behind the line of troopers, a dirtied woman was screaming hysterically about how it was the Doom Slayer's fault.
Too bad for her that John had seen the recording, and knew what she actually was.
The demon-inhabited girl either didn't notice or didn't care that John was there. "He killed them all!" It screamed in spanish as it pointed at Doom Slayer; as a matter of fact, that was the only thing it said, probably to make the 'hysterical, traumatized girl' guise more effective.
John snarled when it finally dawned on his mind: the damned freak was trying to put the blame on the Doom Slayer, and these people were daft enough to buy it outright, rather than, say, ask more of what happened in there, or, more importantly, how the fuck was 'she' still alive after the building fell apart!
He also wondered why was it still alive despite going against the Doom Slayer, but he didn't ponder on that for long.
Unfortunately for it, it was within casting range of the Occult Detective, and he had the perfect spell for the occasion: transmogrify, the spell he used when his bank account was too low and his hatred for pigeons reached its peak; best of all, the transmogrified didn't change back to their original form if they died, so there would be no stupid misunderstandings when they killed it.
He did feel sorry for the lass, but if the creature controlling her body. Besides, he morosely thought, it's not like she could be saved anyway.
"Get away from her, she's not human!" He screamed in spanish before launching the ball, hoping that the GEO would fall for it.
The moment the sphere of magic hit the crying girl, he. Five seconds later, what had been an otherwise pretty lass was now what could be best described as the unholy love child of a troll and a dog. The freak, seeing that its ruse had been blown, roared in rage, slammed the Doom Slayer back into the destroyed building with a swip of its arms, and began to rip the GEO closest to it apart, with most of them too shocked too react fast enough as it tore through them; the few that weren't fired everything they had at it, but their weapons had no effect.
Seeing the massacre taking place in front of him, John grimaced: maybe revealing its true self by accidentally making it stronger hadn't been the best idea. If it decided to just puke blood at everything it saw…
Fortunately, and before the thing thought of doing exactly that, the demon's rampage was stopped by the Doom Slayer, who grabbed it by the head and…
Honestly, John didn't really know what the Doom Slayer would do now that he didn't have to restrain himself. Smash it to a bloody pulp and retrieve the parasite from said pulp? Rip it apart with his bare hands? Blow it apart with his shotgun? Maybe pull that supposed chainsaw John heard about to use?
None of the listed: he merely shoved his hand inside its stomach, making it scream in pure agony, and then pulled its guts out, screeching maggot included, as John himself had told him to do minutes prior. Then, before the screaming monster fell, some kind of tube came from the back of the Slayer's armor and spat flames at the thing, roasting it until it turned into a burning mush.
"Holy shit…" John muttered.
And then it him. After however many minutes fighting alongside the brute, now he realized something: bigass guy from the future, bigass guns, uses a chainsaw, fights demons without fear of them… Why did he tick all the marks of a Space Marine? As in, the ones from the goddamned Warhammer 40K of all things?
To be honest that was beside the point at the moment, but still, John couldn't help but wonder about the coincidence.
The detective didn't have time to ponder about this coincidence, bcause as the remains of the transformed woman broke apart, the Doom Slayer turned to face the surviving GEO, raising the wriggling worm in the air.
"This creature" the Doom Slayer began to say, raising his voice so everyone could hear him. ", is an alien parasite from beyond our solar system that landed on Earth. It can take control of living bodies via virical infection, destroying the minds of those infected. This monster from above has killed seventy men, women and children."
The news: they reacted with the expected horror of what happened, terror about the possibility of more 'aliens' coming, anger that the evil-slaying hero hadn't killed it yet, relief that everything had ended well (relatively speaking), sorrow that people had died anyway… The typical really, only on a much larger scale, and public. At least he didn't say it was a demon.
So, Slayer spoke with the authorities about what happened, told them to search for the bodies of the infected and burn them, and some other things John simple didn't care about, with the detective near him all the time. He didn't like people in general, but having something of good PR could help him in the future.
However, when Doom Slayer called up his now iconic portal to leave the scene, instead of doing so outright, he stood in front of the blue space-time hole and stared silently at John.
John understood what the soldier was silently saying. "You want me to come with you?" Seeing him nod, he continued. "Need help with the maggot, right? Try to know what it knows, I mean."
Again, the Doom Slayer nodded, before turning around and going through the portal.
Sighing and shrugging to no one in particular, and wanting to know if he could actually create a vaccine from the worm with his help, John walked after Doom Slayer, wondering if he could smoke in that Castle Grayskull of his.
So, how was the chapter and end of the Hellblazer arc? Too narrative heavy? For the public's strangely understanding attitude, don't worry, Doom Slayer and Constantine coming out of a building and saying that seventy people died will have consequences that he'll have to address and explain the parasite.
As for John's sudden cavalier attitude in the end, this wasn't his first rodeo, only the biggest: he's been desensitized to a point due to these things.
Help
The news of a barely-stopped alien assimilation plot stopped by the Doom Slayer reached everyone on the planet.
Some called us murderers for what we had done, others called those shortsighted morons for not seeing the bigger picture, others yet looked up at the stars with dread of more 'alien' parasites landing, with several governments starting projects to defend their countries from possible body-snatchers. The rest merely wondered about the possibility of it having landed on Earth after I came. My actions on the building also worsened Bruce's opinion on me, but at that moment I didn't know, nor would have cared if I did, because I was too busy fulfilling my self-imposed tasks alongside Constantine.
First, we went straight to the Vatican and gave the recording of the camera to their exorcists' division, so that they knew what exactly happened, and that one of them nearly cause Judgement Day to come much closer than it should had.
Even John, who loathed the Church with a passion for obvious reasons, was not okay with their cries of horror as they saw the madness Albelda unleashed, then sorrow when they realized seventy innocent had been vanquished to the River Styx because of one of their own wanted to create something that simply could not be made.
And then their pain turned to shock, confusion, and wonder when I told them that I would finish what Albelda started, but with the proper procedure and the adequate equipment… and mistrust when I said Constantine would help me on the task.
His response on the matter?
"Well I don't like you or the Guys Above either, but hey, I'm all on stopping Hell from taking the easy way for free souls." That, and an obscene gesture you all might know.
After that, it was time for the two of us to work on the Worm, starting by taking blood samples from it and experimenting on them, and then scalating. Even with the Fortress' technology and Constantine's arcane knowledge, it took us a while to extract the enzyme from the creature and then purify and modify the extracts with magic.
Then again, part of the reason it took us some time was sheer, pure spite against it and its kind.
Its screams could have been music to my ears, but I was too busy extracting everything to care for that. Didn't help that during all that time, Constantine didn't stop pestering me about: how did I put my guns away, why did I have a picture of me holding a rabbit and, most important of all, what was the strange energy my body was bloated with.
Knowing that he wouldn't be satisfied by anything but the truth, I did what I had refused to do until then: tell him the truth about me (as Doom Slayer of course).
If you believe that it was stupid and hasty decision, understand that this is John Constantine we're talking about, a detective who when he puts effort into it doesn't even need access to his 'particular skills' to found out stuff, and he had already become suspicious about my fake background, since according to him it was the first time technology could interact with demons. Well, that and finding out that he could not summon demons to the Fortress.
That said, I didn't reveal him ALL the truth, only the entirety of DOOM 2016… and a tweaked DOOM II.
Namely, the demons no longer being able to get out of Hell, this time because I decided that enough was enough.
"So, you're telling me you're from another dimension with yet another Hell, and that you stopped them invading Earth six bloody times, got trapped in Hell for however long, got found by an order of Hell-fighting knights, became their leader, got coffined into a machine that made you into a demigod…" He began to list.
"Yes."
"Then got betrayed by some priests, killed those priests as payback, got entombed alive because Hell couldn't kill you, then the corporation that started everything retrieved your ass, and after stopping yet another invasion AND wrecking Hell so badly you actually destroyed it, got sent here alongside this very place by the Hayden bloke." He listed in a single breath, an amazing feat given his habit. "Did I get everything right?"
VEGA was the one who replied. "Indeed you are, Mr. Constantine."
Constantine looked up at the ceiling. "Oh, right, I forgot about the robot."
You'd expect him to go on a tirade, but instead he raised his arms and gestured at the stone walls around us. "Just the damn facts there's a keep on Mars, that your technology actually worked on a demon, should be enough proof for anyone, mate. That, and the fact you aren't the first bloke from another dimension I've met. That reminds me, where do your bad guys go when they die now that your Hell is a mass graveyard?"
"Don't give a damn about that."
In resume, saying that he took the revelation in stride would be severely understating it. The fact I became the destroyer of my dimension's Hell helped. He did wonder why hadn't the local Heaven and Hell done anything regarding me, but he chalked it up to them being Heaven and Hell.
It wouldn't stay that way, but at that moment we didn't know.
All that said, it didn't stop him from being a… what was the word he also used from time to time? Oh, yes, a twat. What else could you call a man who callously smoked in your house despite you asking him to not do it, and somehow managed to sneak into the workship without either me or VEGA knowing it, and modify one of the water evaporators to create whisky?
That last one could actually be seen as a test for future settlers, but still, he just irreparably changed a machine just to get drunk. Asshole.
Finally, after several weeks of inflicting continuous torture on the Worm (both physical and spiritual), we managed to get the vaccine. It would not work on the stronger demons sadly, and the process to create more doses was simply too long ever with Constantine's help, but anything lower than properly named demons would be unable to control or even influence those injected with the vaccine, and we did have enough resources to make sufficient doses for those who had to deal with demons: we could replicate more anyway.
Now the only thing stopping us from permanently killing the little freak thanks to a special spell from Constantine that would have dissolved it's essence was the need for information.
Again, it took us some time to pry it out of its disgusting body, but eventually it spilled the beans.
Specifically, why it came to Earth, why did it possess the Medeiros girl, why it planned to create an army of possessed and, most important of all, who was 'her'. It had been sent to Earth by a deity of pure evil (he wasn't exactly a demon per se, but because of the sheer malice on his soul he was considered a true demon for all intents and purposes) to search for his progeny so that he could escape Hell and conquer the universe. Whatever passed as its throat tore itself apart before we could get more, but I didn't need further info to know it was talking about.
Trigon's daughter. Raven. This demon had turned itself into a worm to search for Raven. Constantine even managed to rip an image of her from it, showing us a gray-skinned, purple haired young woman with blue eyes.
All done, I squashed the maggot under my boot, and Constantine's spell made sure it's death was permanent in case it was one of those little bastards who could cheat death.
So, Trigon wanted his daughter back, as always, but this time he nearly started a pseudo-zombie apocalypse just to ease the search of her, instead of trying to influence her.
Problem was, while he knew about Trigon, Constantine didn't know much about her, only her name, a bit of her past, the fact she (supposedly) was on Earth, and now what she looked like: she just hadn't intrigue him enough for anything more. I couldn't just ask VEGA to find her for us either, since for some reason he couldn't find her even with her picture.
Then there were the seventy souls the Worm took. No way I would leave them to suffer in eternity, no matter how much John told me they were already either extinguished, or turned into demons themselves and that as much as he wanted to see me do a reenactment of my 'One-man Hellish Apocalypse' here, it would be best to wait and see if I actually could take on the big players, as he named the demon lords and such other powerful fiends.
As much as I hated to admit it, he had a point: the demons from DC were different from those of DOOM, and the only ones I had met were a lowly imp and a literal worm respectively. I needed to know if I could take on them.
However, just because I couldn't rescue them didn't mean I wouldn't, as a certain philantropist once said, do my damnest to avenge them. Them, and any innocent people who had been wrongly condemned to Hell for however long.
First, though, we would find and help Raven, mainly because we could actually do so, and to fuck Hell over. To do it, however, we had to find her first, and this time neither VEGA nor Constantine's magic could help. That, in turn, meant we would need the help of everyone I knew of that could aid us, which in this case meant Clark and co. plus their friends, which were Wally West…
And Bruce Wayne.
Which was why I sent a message to Clark to gather them somewhere so I could bring them to the Fortress so that we could talk. The kryptonians and the power-armor user had already been here, and Bruce simply did not care about being on Mars, more focused on the ironworks outside, not saying a word but clearly not happy with them, nor the fact Constantine was there with me, having apparently met him a couple of times prior; the feeling, naturally, was mutual.
Wally, on the other hand? He was ecstasic by being there.
"Well, damn!" He whistled as he watched the surface of Mars through a mirror. "Never expected to be the first man from Central City to set his feet on Mars AND the famous Fortress of Doom! Well, infamous, but you get the point."
After that I gathered them in the main hall to explain them the situation at hand.
"Remember the parasite from Barcelona from a month ago, the one that infected those people and took over their bodies with no chance of saving them?"
Saying that Bruce was angry at me for my actions in Spain would be understating it.
"You mean the one who infected those people, people you seemingly didn't bother to cure of their affliction?" He practically growled at us.
I didn't bother to look at the Dark Knight. "They could no longer be considered human, or even alive in a certain sense."
"It doesn't change the fact you killed them instead of restraining them."
"No, mate, we killed their soulless, flesh-eating husks. They were already dead." John replied.
Yes, we decided to tell them the truth about the nature of Worm. After all, there was no need to lie to them about that given who they were.
Naturally this quizzed them. "'Soulless'?" Clark parroted, confused.
"The parasite was not an alien, but a creature from Hell that had found aother way to both possess people… in a way they could not be saved." I told them. "We didn't want to start a panic by revealing the truth."
"Wait a minute here." Kara spoke first. "Are you saying that the alien you captured… was actually a demon? As in, a fire and brimstone Hell demon whose job is to torture sinners for refusing God until Judgement Day? Those demons?" She was understandably freaked out by the sudden reveal.
"No, Superluv, we're talking about japanese yokai, who are mistranslated as demons." John said sarcastically. "Of course we mean demons from the Bible!"
"So, do we have to get holy water and a crucifix or something?" Wally asked, half jokingly, half serious.
John snorted at that. "Depends on the demon, speedy, and if they are really demons, and even if they are, you have to have faith in you for the latter to work. And then there's a difference between Hell, and Hel."
Bruce said nothing, since he already had an encounter with the supernatural, although this was the first time he heard anything about the Biggest House itself.
I raised my hand to stop John from talking further, knowing that the detective would try to explain everything he knew about Hell just for kicks. "All that said, we haven't called you here to fight demons or give Hell a visit."
"Then why did you call us, Slayer?" John asked.
"The worm had come here in search of a girl."
Kara raised an eyebrow at this. "Girl?"
John took over at that point. "The lass' name is Raven, or Rachel Roth, I'm not sure which." He conjured an image of her for them to see." She's the half-human daughter of Trigon, a very, very nasty demon who apparently requires her aid, willing or not, to get out of Hell. The parasite wanted to create an army to facilitate its search. Not exactly the father of the year."
Wally whistled when he looked at Raven's image. "She looks a bit old to be just a girl. Stupid question, but do you know-"
"No."
Clark ignored the younger man's not-so innocent questioning and looked at me. "You want our help searching this girl." He said, earning a nod from me. "You can't?"
"For some reason, VEGA can't pinpoint her location, and Constantine's magic can't either.
"VEGA?" Bruce asked.
"The Fortress' robot butler. Anything on this solar system, he can see it. Well, anything san's Rachel current position" John replied in a proud tone for some reason, as if he was VEGA's creator. Very possibly to mess with Bruce.
Mess with Bruce he did, more sp
"How? If you can't find her with your technology and Constantine's magic, what hope do we have?"
"Any help would be welcome. You three have friends, you in particular are a world-famous journalist with connections, West is a police officer with access to the U.S police database, and Wayne has the resources."
After talking some more about it, the kryptonians, Wally and John happily decided to help me out in the mission.
Bruce, naturally, was another matter entirely "Why would I help you after everything you have done?" He growled at me. "Do you really want to help this girl… or kill her before she becomes a problem?"
I stared at him for a good ten seconds, before unclasping my helmet and looking straight in the eyes. "Because you wouldn't do it for me, but to help a girl who's being hounded by the forces of darkness to unleash the apocalypse."
We kept our staredown for a good while, with the others not knowing what to do and not wanting to escalate things by doing anything.
Bruce gave up before I did, sigh of defeat and everything. "I'll see what I can do."
All that said, they couldn't just stop their duties as heroes just to find Raven, they still had people to save and crimes to stop, and so did I; John… well, his 'heroics' were his job. Nevertheless, I was grateful that they accepted.
So, for several more weeks I continued my job as a hero at the same time I searched for Raven, sometimes helping Constantine with his issues (faking being his bodyguard here, intimidating some ghosts there), and others him helping me when I decided to get involved in some mystical/magical stuff.
And then, one day as I manually searched the planet for any sign of Raven's location, any, I discovered a very peculiar sight in Japan. When John, who at that moment was visiting the Fortress, came over and saw the screen, he voiced what both of us thought at the display.
"Is that a hoplite? A hoplite fighting the bloody Monstrous Manual?"
So, the seeds for the Justice League have been finally seeded, but just like any good plant, it'll take them some time to grow into the superhero team we all know and love. Aside from that, does the chapter feel forced to you? If it does, my fault for writing it that way, but I want to keep the story going. Don't worry, none of the plots mentioned here will be abandoned, we'll see them again in the future.
Also, the ending is where I start adding a few non-DC things to the story because I think I can make them work. This time is two of them, and while I don't want to spoil them, I can say this: one has one of the largest story counts in Fanfiction, and the other is a helluva anachronistic hack and slash.
Finally, kudos for Hida Reju for suggesting the booze thing!
Maketes
It was, indeed, a hoplite; no way we could mistake that crested helmet and muscle-ladden bronze cuirass for anything else, wielding a shortsword that he was clearly skilled with alongside a round, wooden shield. As for the man himself, he looked like your archetypical greek hero, tall and well-built (enough to send a several-thousand pound monster flying with a punch) but due to the helmet covering his entire head that was the extent of our knowledge.
"He's an unknown vigilante that began to operate in Tokyo a few weeks after the Red Trident attack." VEGA replied as we watched him fight. "He has yet to speak in public or receive a name, the latter due to his lack of appearances."
"Interesting…" I muttered. Was he related somehow to Themyscira, despite clearly being a man, or was he just some brave soul modeling himself after the greek warriors of the past?
The truth ended up being a mix of both, but at that moment I didn't know it.
On the other side, there were the opponents he was fighting: orcs, goblins, barbarians, ogres, undead of all kinds, even demons… or, as Constantine had put it, the 'bloody Monstrous Manual', which was a very apt description. And they were slowly but surely overwhelming the lone warrior with their sheer numbers: as skilled and strong as he was, there were simply too damn many of them for him.
Then there was the fact they didn't bleed red, but black, and not in the sense that their blood was black, but because instead of the crimson liquid, from their wounds oozed…
"Is that thing coming from that neck ink?" I heard John mutter behind me as the hoplite beheaded an orc. Sure enough, the monster's stump spewed black ichor as it fell, before the entire body, and anything it had on, turned into a man-sized glob of ink. Ditto for the others the soldier killed.
Said globs then reassembled into other monsters that jumped once more into the fray, seemingly fresh unlike the hoplite. Calling the fight 'unfair' would understate it.
"It appears that the horde is some kind of collective paintings turned to life by unknown means, most likely magic of some sorts." VEGA informed.
"Thanks, Brigadier Obvious." John snarked before getting closer to the screen. "Still, he's right about that: those freaks aren't real, in the sense they don't come from Mordor, or Cimmeria, or wherever they're supposed to have come from."
And there were a lot of them,
Brave, but why was this man fighting against an enemy he couldn't beat, instead of retreating to fight another day, aside from simple honor? The fight took place in a forest in Kanto, not a city, and it didn't seem that there were civilians to protect nearby.
At first, that is.
When VEGA panned out the view, we found out why: there was a small group of people spectating the fight from between the trees, most of them wearing a hotchpoth of clothing. What made it strange wasn't their wardrobe, but the the pack of wolves that was with them, some of them larger than the others… and more expressive, given the fear-stricken expressions they had. That said, the people themselves weren't exactly normal either: they seemed human at fist sight, but upon closer inspection they had pointed ears, narrow irises, and fangs, if the ones who had their mouths open were anything to go by.
Oh, and some of them had tails of all things for some reason. The situation was becoming stranger and stranger by the second.
I turned to Constantine since he'd know more about this than me. "Who are they."
"More like what. Yokai, wolf yokai given their looks and the mutts with them, and by their size some of those have to be yokai too. Which is strange by itself, because last time I checked those things lived in zoos."
Quick story lesson that will be relevant in the future: in my original Earth, the japanese wolf had been hunted to extinction by order of the Emperor during the Meiji Revolution. In this one, they managed to survive, but only in captivity.
And then it struck me, the (possible) reason of everything that was happening.
Which turned out to be close, but not to the extent I thought.
The hoplit hade found the wolf yokai pack being chased by the ink monsters, decided to help them, and then found out the hard way that sometimes you can't fight an entire army of nearly unkillable creatures by yourself, at least not without the adequate equipment. As for why weren't the wolves helping him, they probably might have been unable.
"What are these yokai capable of?"
John thought it over. "Not much compared to the others: they can turn into wolves, run much faster than your average athlete, some can get even faster than that, and overall are slightly stronger and tougher than your average human, but not by much. They're actually kinda low on the yokai totem pole."
Then there was the million dollar questions: where did the horde come from, why were they attacking, when did it begin, and who created them.
And then, as the still nameless hoplite lost his shield to the mob, we saw him. The man who had to be the origin of the horde, a jacket wearing, middle aged 'gentleman' who was watching as the hoplite fought from a safe distance… and two storeys above.
Because of his looks and calm demeanor, the man reminded me of the stereotypical japanese detective, with the jacket, the hat, and even the closed eyes. I would have even considered him a noble officer, if not for the glaring fact he was standing atop a demon that could be best described as a blue, non-burning balrog.
And that smile of his… was not a kindly, serene smile, to put it simply.
Not helped by the fact I knew who he was. Still, as it had happened before, I wasn't supposed to know his identity.
"VEGA."
"Uehara Daizo." Also known as the BBEG of Teen Titans: Trouble in Tokyo, and a parody of inspector Zenigata… and who apparently was also Brushogun himself, instead of merely using the man. "He's a detective from the TMPD, famous for stopping and incarcerating various criminals."
Naturally John scoffed at that. "He probably made those criminals."
"He's not a metahuman if that's what you're wondering. Scans indicate that, as I stated before, he's using magic to generate the creatures."
I turned to John once more. Magic was his field of expertise, after all. "Any idea of who he or it might be?"
John inspected the image of Daizo closely, before grunting. "Dunno, never saw a yokai capable of creating an army of murderous inkblots before, and he doesn't strike me as a wizard with that garb of his. Gotta need some info on him."
I turned back to the screen. "VEGA, anything else of interest that we may use?"
"He has been recently appointed to solve a case about man-eating monsters terrorising the region, and does not like metahumans. He's an otherwise unremarkable individual, that's the extent of my knowledge. I'm sorry."
'Man-eating monsters' that he most definitely made himself, given that some of the ink creatures were essentially wargs. Given who the hoplite was fighting for, it was obvious it was a set-up to eliminate the yokai, but for what reason, we didn't know at the moment.
John took a cigarette and lit it "Say, Slayer, aren't you going to help the lad?" He asked before taking a whiff.
"I will, but first I want to see if the greek recovers." I replied. "Who knows, maybe he's an olympian in disguise."
"I'm afraid he's not, Slayer. He does, however, have a divine signature. From which god, I do not know."
"Well, so much for surprises." John deadpanned.
Eventually, a hit from a axe-wielding barbarian pulled the warrior's helmet off, revealing a young man (could not be older than twenty five) with brown, braided hair and a trimmed beard. Unfortunately, his otherwise handsome features were marred by the profuse bleeding from his mouth. Those ink freaks hit hard despite lacking real bones and muscle mass.
And then, after Daizo jumped down the demon to gloat and was about to execute the hoplite with his pistol when one of the wolf yokai, a young redhead dressed in red clothing and wolf pelts, jumped down the cliff at incredible speed with a sword in hand, screaming at the top of her lungs, and threw several small, green somethings in Daizo's direction. I thought they were shurikens at first, but later I found out they were leaves of all things. Sharp, deadly leaves that could pierce fake orcs… but not Daizo's jacket, it seemed, whose reaction to the attack was akin to someone annoyed at having normal leaves thrown at them, despite the fact it seemed to be just a normal jacket.
The moment she got close enough, the detective pulled a jitte (a kind of japanese batton) out of his jacket and engaged her just as the girl's blade was about to reach his throat.
She was good with the sword, fast enough to become a blur, and powered by righteous anger; the problem was that Daizo was even better with his jitte, much, much better, had a longer reach than her, and possessed inhuman reflexes.
And then he suddenly grabbed the girl's sword by the blade, yanked it from her grip, and punched her hard enough to send her back several yards away. Like any good old villain, he had been merely toying with her.
The wolf girl managed to stop herself from sliding across the dirt, but then the mob of ink monsters fell upon her. However, rather than killing her outright, Daizo made his creatures grab her and force her to watch as the hoplite's beating intensified, now carried on by giant demons and dragons who were kicking the poor bastard towards each other, like some demented match of soccer.
The still-nameless girl began to struggle, to scream at them to let him go, but all she got were the mocking laughs and jeers of the horde. Her peers were watching from above, frozen in fear, both of what was happening and because they knew they were next.
The hero being beaten to death in front of a confident villain, a girl crying as said hero's life was slowly and painflly snuffed out, the villain silently gloating because he was sure of his victory…
That would not stand, not with me.
It was time for a little deus ex machina to save their asses.
"VEGA, open a small portal."
In the form of a weapon capable of burning ink away… and a fragmentation grenade. You'll see why the grenade soon.
Sorry for the lack of length for the chapter; I planned to make it longer, but the draft got so long I ended up deciding to divide it. Well, that and I accidentally deleted that part. So, the non-DC characters have been finally introduced, alongside a baddie from DC that very posibly none of you expected to see.
One thing: none of the characters introduced here are original, although that's a bit obvious with Daizo given he's the main (but twist) villain of Trouble in Tokyo. Guess where the yokai and the hoplite are from.
That said, the monsters are actually from Wizardry, but because the game is basically D John's statement is not that far off. It's also very popular in Japan, which is why I made Daizo make them, although the next chapter will reveal they didn't start that way.
Barricade said:
4th degree is anime/video game 'your flesh dissolves to blackened bone'. Most people seeing it either instinctively block it in their minds as unrealistic, or start heaving on the spot until they can't see it anymore/its out of their LOS while shutting down & completely unable to aid the injured person.
To put it another way, even DOOM's two newest games never showed true 4th degree burns. They either showed indistinct full body gibs/chunks, 'misted' a body, or did something far less than 4th degree (more bloody, less crispy). Probably because its one of the few things that just showing once on screen, will, on its own, earn a Mature/R-rating, if not hit the automatic censoring ceiling or even bannable ceiling.
Click to expand…
Click to shrink…
Indeed, which is why I made the plasma rifle's bolts hot enough to burn the flesh off your bones: no need to censor anything, nor fire-resistant demons to use as targeting practice.
I mean, not all the Red Trident goons were found as fleshy corpses…
The Lion and the Wolf I
In times past, the three main goddesses of the Olympian pantheon (Hera, Athena, and Artemis) made Themyscira a safe haven for their chosen, the amazons.
However, thirty years ago, thirteen of these chosen women wanted to have children, and their progeny to come from them, from their wombs, instead of mere enchanted clay. So insistent they were that Hippolyta allowed them to return to Man's world to… do the deed, and then go back to the island.
They never actually asked for their children to be of the wrong gender. Then again, most of the Olympians were known for being fickle and, using more modern terms, jerkasses when it suited them.
Naturally, none of the impregnated amazons expected to bear male children, and most definitely didn't expect for all of them to give birth to sons. And that before they realized that the newborns had too been gifted with the gods' blessings.
Unwilling to do as some of her sisters asked, but also refusing to allow men to dwell in Themyscira, Hippolyta asked the gods for advice to solve this predicament for her, because she just didn't know what to do with the babies.
The god's solution to the dilemma? Gather the newborns and give them to Hephaestus, the olympian of the forge, who gladly took them in, raising them sternly yet with paternal love as they became both his helpers… and sons in all but name. That said, they did allow the mothers to say goodbye to their sons.
Since Hippolyta had named her daughter after Artemis' roman name, Hephaestus decided to do something similar to the boys, but closer to home, naming them after the great heroes of the old times: Ajax, Odysseus, Diomedes, Aeneas (Aphrodite felt touched when she found that out), Castor and Pollux (who like the original Dioscuri were twins)…
And then there was Pausanias, a tall, well-built man, the most responsible of the helpers (they were all roughly the same age), and the only one whose namesake had been born well after the Achaean Age, being a general from the (in)famous Sparta. Ironically, he was also the son of a follower of Aphrodite.
He was the best of the men, both in body as in mind, thanks to being able to visit the world outside the forge from time to time, although he was restricted to Greece and Italy (Hephaestus' forge was located in an island in the Adriatic Sea). However, even with this, sometimes he yearned to see the world at large, to meet with the modern heroes, to earn the glory of being a hero,and even to become one of them,. The only reason he didn't do so despite having Hephaestus' permission was that he also wanted to make sure those he fought stopped being a menace through lethal means, something that modern society frowned upon.
And then one day, as he helped his father in the manufacturing of a cannon for Ares, they heard a conmotion from the TV room, where the others gathered around the screen and muttered in excitement as it displayed a most incredible sight: a giant monster, a creature that looked like it had escaped from Tartarus itself, annihilating a group of soldiers with impunity, before battling a large, green-armored individual… who then proceeded to rip its guts out, revealing a squirming worm hiding in there.
The Doom Slayer. The only known hero that was willing to kill. They already knew of him and his opinion about evil-doers, they knew of the massacre of the Voyager of the Seas… but to see him actually killing something that mere seconds before had been a screaming girl…
It was horrifying, disgusting even… but also inspiring to some point, especially to a certain smithy.
If a man could kill to protect the innocent, and not be feared hated for it, so could others, no? Especially those who took inspiration from the ancient heroes of greek 'myth', who became so because they slayed their enemies.
He had the strength, the endurance, the motivation, and everything he thought a protector of the meek needed. The last thing to check, of course, was a place to defend.
He put on a blindfold, grabbed a knife, and threw it at a bronze earth globe, deciding to become the protector of where the blade landed, no matter how far it was. He naturally expected it to be his 'native' Greece, or maybe even Italy.
Instead, the dagger stabbed Japan. He didn't know what to feel about that, to be honest with himself: all he knew about the isles was their people went from honourable, if overzealous warriors, to disciplined workers.
"Greece would have been a tad obvious, you know, and Rome too." Hephaestus noted when he saw the result before shrugging. "I think you should make the equipment yourself."
And forge it he did, with no one's help but that of his learned skill at smithing, making a set of armor and weapons worthy of Achilles himself, despite being completley mundane (and even then, that meant they were still worthy of Leonidas). After that, and after bidding farewell to his family, he set for the archipelago.
It turned out to be harder than it seemed.
During the first days, when he wasn't trucking around the area, his stint as a vigilante was rather lacklusting, for a lack of a better term: most crime in Japan simply didn't require the need to kill the perpetrators most of the time. As for dangerous groups like the Yakuza that did deserve death, they had already been erradicated, or forced to hide further to avoid the former fate. The few times he did act like a hero ended up with him running away from the police because he was a large, armored warrior.
And then one day, as he looked over the streets of Tokyo from the balcony of his crappy apartment, he saw as a red-headed girl and her dogs were being chased by gun-toting robots through the alley below, the machines blasting away at the group and injuring the girl in the leg.
He didn't waste time in jumping down betweeen the two groups and attacking the machines with his bare hands, and while they were strong and tough, Pausanias was even stronger. It helped that their guns weren't powerful enough to pierce his tough skin, although it still hurt.
It was only after destroying the machines that Pausanias finally realized something about the girl: natural red hair was practically unhear of in Japan, her ears were slightly long and pointed, and her green eyes were literally narrow. Said eyes were regarding him with a mix of fear, awe, and defiance as he carefully walked towards her.
After calming her down and proving he wouldn't hurt them, she finally spoke: her name was Ayame, and she was a yokai, a wolf to be precise, and she needed help.
To understand their plight, we'll turn back time a few hundred years.
Hundreds of years prior, yokai reigned rampant across Nihon. Sure, there were humans that could take them on, but these were rare and few, and most of the time the humans required numbers to fight the creatures, even after the arrival of gunpowder from China and better guns from portuguese merchants.
All of this changed when the Emperor decided to modernize the country over a century prior… and that included the extermination of yokai through military intervention, severely eased by the advent of repeating firearms from America. Even then, the tables had merely evened in no one's favor, since as far as the mikado cared other countries posed more of a threat than them, and now most yokai realized they had to be careful.
Again, that changed, and this time sooner than anyone, much less the yokai themselves, had expected…
Just after the conflict with Russia, in the evening of the 20th century, the metahumans began to sprout: human men and women who had powers (no magic, not honed skill, just powers) and, in some cases, the willingness to use them to kill others. Some received them from external sources, others simply were born with them; some were simply foreigners, while others were japanese-born. All, however, were much stronger than the yokai's usual victims. Suddenly, the yokai in general no longer had the advantage of having powers on their side.
Powers like discerning who was a yokai with mere glance… and throwing bony blades at them.
And to make things even worse, the metahumans were simply the tip of the iceberg: the advancement of weapons technology, robots designed and programmed to hunt down yokai whenever they hid and termiante them with extreme prejudice, government programs (both the japanese and foreign ones), simple hunters that had gotten pretty good at their jobs, and more.
Naturally, this meant that the yokai population went from a few millions to less than half that, but those who had it the worst were the wolf yokai, who suffered the most because of their relative weakness compared to most other yokai and Meiji the Great's edict to cull the population of mundane wolves until those in captivity became the vast majority, which meant that the rest could be singled out as yokai. For years, the packs had been slowly whittled down, until only a few tribes remained across the islands… including the one that made their home in Japan's capital.
They couldn't ask other yokai for help either, or even other wolves for that matter: most loathed each other more than they loathed humans these days, and many other yokai (again, wolves included) had happily integrated themselves into human society, some not even bothering to hide their nature.
The worst part, however, had to be the hatred: no one hunted wolves, and the anti-yokai edict stopped being enforced after the surrender in 1945 and the abdication of Hirohito, but that didn't stop people from killing them anyway… and some of those had the means to do so with impunity.
What had begun as simple reprisal evolved into purely spite-driven torment by those who had not forgotten about the wolves' past attrocities and refused to let go of their hatred, and other yokai were happy to take advantage of the situation. Granted, the packs were more than willing to pay their attackers back in kind, but years of having been the aggressors and man-eaters, demonization from part of the government, complete unwillingness from the tribes' part to help each other, and simply being outnumbered by several magnitudes meant that the Tokyo tribe simply stopped having the the strength to fight back.
And that was before the deaths of several people, attacks that had been supposedly carried by dog-like monsters, made things even worse for them.
None of that meant anything for Ayame, a fiery redhead she-wolf and the future leader, who refused to back down against any threat to her family, be it human, yokai or other. Sadly, not even her determination to protect her family could help their situation.
One day, Ayame's grandfather (her parents had been killed in a fight with another tribe) finally decided that they could not stay any longer in their homeland, else they would all just die out, and so formulated a simple, yet also dangerous plan: gather enough money to leave for Russia,. (for starters none of them spoke russian, and the taiga was simply not a good place to live) but as far as he knew it would be better than living the rest of their lives like abandoned dogs wandering the streets of Tokyo.
The simpler part, of course, was getting the money and finding a flight big enough to carry a family of over thirty people and their dozen 'dogs'. It would take them some time, but it was nonetheless doable.
The hard part would be getting to the flight without being outed as yokai… or wolves.
This last part was why Ayame had sneaked into the Edogawa Natural Zoo to get several members of her pack that had been captured weeks prior by animal control as they roamed the city in their alternate forms. She didn't expect the place to be guarded by LexCorp drones. Armed LexCorp drones. She could have escaped them easily since she was the fastest of the tribe, but she didn't want to leave her packmates behind.
Fortunately for them, Pausanias had been there.
After Ayame told him their story, Pausanias asksed her if he could go with them back to their tribe, to see if he could help them in some way, something she agreed to after thinking about it. Naturally, her tribe was wary about him and his intentions, and not just because he was human, and a metahuman to boot, but also because he was a foreigner that reeked of some unknown power.
Their mistrust faltered when Ayame told them about the robots and the greek's intervention, and when Pausanias offered them all the funds he had, as well as to take them to their airport with his truck so that their journey would be more inconspicious, it practically ended up halved, so desperate for help and for someone willing to do so they were, even Ayame.
When a baffled elder asked him why did he do this, help what people saw as monsters, he merely replied:
"It's the least I can do for your tribe. That, and because as a hero it's my duty to help those who need it."
What they didn't know was that Pausanias was only mostly doing it out of the goodness of his heart; they didn't need to know he wanted to get glory out of his deeds.
For several days, Pausanias helped the tribe prepare for the journey, earning the trust of the group, Ayame included, but even with hers and the others' accounts they didn't believe that a man, no matter how strange he was, could destroy several machines all by himself.
That is, until a dozen LexCorp drones, following the trail left by the wolves, forced their way into their hideout, weapons rised and optics blazing red as they glared at the surprised and terrified tribe.
The drones barely managed to say anything through their speakers before both Ayame and Pausanias were upon them. The future leader took down three of them with a combination of speed, fencing, and hardened leaves, but most ended up ripped apart by Pausanias. Had they been able to, they would have celebrated such victory, but instead the tribe got into the trailer and Ayame to the truck with Pausanias. They knew that more would come after them
How naïve had they been, genuinely believing that some robots would be their only obstacle in their journey, that they were safe.
They only found out they had been followed when they were stopped in route to the airport by a certain detective.
Sorry for the narrative heavy (okay, nearly narrative exclusive) chapter, I thought the arc (yes, arc) and the new characters needed backstory; the following chapters will be focused first on the start of the fight from their POV, then DS's 'intervention', so we're gonna be with them for some time.
Anyway, how was this chapter in general? Too long for a backstory chapter? Is Pausanias' want of honor a realistic flaw for a man raised by a literal god from Ancient Greece? Also, I'm revealing what other works and characters have been added to the story because one is very sparsely written about here, and the other is practically unknown. So, going by the characters.
-Yokai in general: Inuyasha. Specifically, Ayame was Koga's love interest in the anime (she doesn't exist in the manga). As for why I specifically added her, dunno, I saw an image of her the other day and thought 'eh, why not?'. Plus, I used to watch the series when I was a kid because my big sister hogged the TV and didn't let me watch anything else, so it got ingrained in my head. As for why Ayame, she seems like an underused character to me.
-The hoplite: Spartan: Total Warrior, a very anachronistic, yet fun game (and Creative Assembly attempt to port a game to consoles) where you play as an spartan fighting against the legions of Rome (and in the year 300 B.C) with the aid of Ares. I was raised by the game, and one day I realized that with some tweaks it could fit perfectly on DC's timeline. The Spartan is never actually called by name in the game, so I named him Pausanias (namely because Leonidas is also in the game… as are Castor, Pollux, an Elektra turned amazon, a Sejanus turned sorcerer…).
Oh, and Ares ends up being the BBEG AND final boss of the game.
For those who might be wondering, the Olympians do not know about Doom Slayer; they do know that something powerful has entered their universe, but being the greek gods they are, and Doom Slayer making it seem like he came here through technological means, they have yet to put two and two together, although they'll realize (some of) the truth if/when they meet him in person.
Also… Doom Slayer finally made it to Super Smash Bros. Ultimate! Hurray!
… as a Mii gunner, despite being a very, very iconic videogame character armed with several 'family-friendly' guns. Better than nothing, I guess. On the other hand, does this mean he can still get a spot in Mortal Kombat?
Last edited: Oct 6, 2021
The Lion and the Wolf II
In a highway between Tokyo and one of several airports of the region, on the cab of the semi-truck carrying her tribe, Ayame watched with a mix of annoyance and amusement as their newfound protector, Pausanias, sang about trucks and rubber ducks, not because he did so badly (in fact, he had an incredible singing voice), but because he tapped his knees from time to time like some giddy kid.
A far cry from the silent warrior that saved her from those robots days prior.
She had been cold and aloof towards the man during the first two days, and not just because he was a human and a meta, and her people's story with them; after all, he literally came out of nowhere and said he'd help them in getting out of Japan the moment they told him abour their plan to leave for the simple reason that, as a 'hero', it was his duty. Even after seeing him actually acting like a buddha (like playing with the children, and shrugging instead of retaliating after one of the packmates broke a chair over his head), and of course having been rescued by the man, she still didn't appreciate his presence.
After a while, though, she warmed up to him when it became clear his intentions were genuine, although she still decided to wait until fully opening to him.
That and, as much as she loathed to admit it, the fact he was good-looking for a human, with his muscular and tall yet lithe body, those gray eyes of his and that trimmed beard, although the braids were a bit off-
'Don't think like that!' Ayame berated herself when she realized she had been staring too long at Pausanias. 'You've only known the guy for a few days! Besides, he's greek, they probably braid their hair all the time'
Ayame shooed away those thoughts and looked outside the window, specifically the forest they were passing near, as to not think about Pausanias in a… certain way. There was little to no traffic hindering them due to it being a low-intensity highway, specifically chosen by Pausanias for that very same reason.
The she-wolf was dressed in her usual garbs, a simple frannel and jeans, both red, while her pelts were being guarded by one of her cousins back in the trailer. Aside from that she also wore the disguise she used when in public, a simple hat to cover her pointed ears, and sunglasses to hide her eyes, in case they stopped and for when they reached the airport.
Better than covering her entire body with bandages and feigning having fallen several floors, like a certain young man who at that moment was most likely regretting his course of action given the trailer, while ventilated, was nonetheless cramped and his wheelchair too much space.
This, of course, meant that several wolves were being forced to sit on top of him.
Pausanias, on the other hand, was fully human and so had no need of disguising anything that could out him as a pseudo-demigod, though he couldn't hide the fact he wasn't japanese with those round eyes and tanned skin of his. That said, he still had what could be considered a disguise, mostly because he wore it over his armor: the jacket he hadmade it seem like the forged muscles of his breastplate were actually his. This made him look even more muscular than he already was. His shield and helmet laid behind his seat just in case he needed to grab them quickly, while their swords were hidden in the glove compartment, again just in the unlikely case they needed them.
Indeed, he seemed to be awfully similar to her in several ways.
"Pausanias, can you call the others, to know how are they doing inside? Just in case."
The man gave a nod and grabbed the radio communicator "How is it going back there, over?" He asked through the talkie. The others had a walkie-talkie set to talk back to him.
"It's starting to smell and getting a bit hot, but other than that we're peachy, rover!"
Pausanias sighed. "It's over, Ginta, over. And it's your own fault if you get hotter, over."
"Hey, we've only been here for three hours, and…" Ginta's voice trailed off before they heard a groan. "It seemed a great idea at the time."
This prompted everyone (Pausanias, Ayame and even the rest of the tribe) to laugh at his expense.
Or at least that was what she thought.
"Any idea of how long until we get to Kamakura?" Another voice chimed in, one much deeper and older. It was Ayame's grandfather, the current leader of the tribe, an old wolf without a human form who had also been the first one to fully trust the greek man and believe his words, and seemingly not just due to desperation.
"Still a couple of hours of travel at least." Pausanias replied after checking the time.
She heard her grandfather sigh. "I thought it'd take longer."
That caused Ayame to lose her smirk, not because of the time, but because it made her remember that Pausanias wouldn't be coming with them: he'd get them to the terminal, bid them farewell and wish them good luck in Siberia, and then go back to Tokyo. He didn't even ponder of going to Russia with them and try to be a hero there.
Then again, none of them aside from Pops asked him if he wanted to come with them, even though they'd be rebuffed by him just like with the old wolf.
And then her thoughts on the matter were interrupted she heard the unmistakable sound of a police car's siren, one that was steadily getting closer and coming from behind them. She could see the lights from the window, but the car proper had to be on Pausanias' side since she could not see it.
Puzzled, Pausanias looked out of the window from his side and then back to whoever they were. Ayame didn't see what they did, but she did hear him groan in annoyance. "They want me to pull over."
Ayame became worried all of sudden. "Why? Did you go over the speed limit?"
Pausanias shook his head. "This thing can barely reach eighty kays per hour, so no. No idea why, exactly, maybe a random inspection or an alcohol check, but I better stop the truck. Don't want to get a fine and somehow end up chased by the entire department just because I didn't obey, don't we." He then replied to the passengers about the police.
Ayame knew he was just joking, but at the same time, given everything that transpired until then, everything could happen.
Just as Pausanias stopped the truck near a clearing between the road and the forest, the police car's driver decided to catch up. As it drove ahead and then turned around, Ayame saw that it was, indeed, your typical police car coloured white and black, its sirens blaring and its lights blazing as it stopped ahead of the truck. Overall, it did indeed look like your average patrol cruiser.
Well, it would have seeed normal, had it not been for the fact that, rather than the symbol of the NPA, it had the insignia of the Destrons right in the grill.
It was impossible for her to miss it, and not just because of her eyesight: the boys of the tribe, both young and not-so young, were fond of both The Transformers and Beast Wars, the latter mostly because of that winged wolf knight. The agency was very strict when it came to etiquette, so how did some cop manage to emblazon his car with a toy's symbol, said toy's popurality notwitstanding?
She didn't think of the possibility of the driver being of high enough rank to ignore the mandate until they came out of the car.
As the driver of the car parked the vehicle in front of the truck and then stepped out of it, Ayame's eyes opened in shock and fear when she saw who he was.
A man wearing wearing a jacket over a white shirt, a black tie and a wide-brimmed hat. It wasn't these detail what revealed his identity to the she-wolf however, but the wide, serene smile he had on his somewhat wrinkled face, and the fact he had his eyes closed even as he walked up to the truck.
Ayame swore her heart skipped a beat when her mind made her remember who was this man.
Commander Uehara Daizo. The man who had defeated and arrested several known criminals, like Saico-Tek, Nya-Nya and Scarface, all of them dangerous in their own right, with nothing but sheer grit, guile, and his trusty .38 revolver, or at least that was how the song went.
He had also been appointed to solve the case of the 'man-eating dogs'. Which in this case meant he was after them.
"Hello there!" Daizo greeted as he walked up to them.
And then he got close enough, and Ayame's blood froze in her veins when she got a whiff of his scent.
Pausanias, being human as he was. Ayame, however, couldn't be fooled thanks to both her superior smell and yokai senses.
The detective still smelled like a human, plus some smoke, but there was something else there, something she couldn't really discern sans it smelled awfully similar to… ink. And yet, he didn't feel like a yokai like her.
Her left hand had unknowingly raised to open the glove compartment to reach for her sword, but a confused Pausanias stopped her. "Ayame, what is it?"
"Are you blind?! He's Daizo!" She replied frantically, hoping that said detective didn't hear her as he got closer and closer, never raising his speed.
"So? He doesn't know who you are." He reassured her.
"It's not that!" She whispered. "It's his smell!"
At this Pausanias frowned, looking backwards so slightly as to not fully face the approaching, who for some unknown was taking his sweet time in coming to them, but still look at him. "His smell?"
"He is not… I don't know what exactly it is, but his scent isn't fully human!" She replied.
"You mean he's a meta like me? That's why you're spooked all of sudden?"
Ayame shook her head hurriedly. "It's not that! I mean he…"
"Am I interrupting something?" She heard the drawl of an Osaka native from behind Pausanias. Said warrior turned to see the smiling face of Daizo, who was looking up at him due to the difference in height.
Before Pausanias had time to even open his mouth, Ayame practically jumped forwards to meet the officer. Why did she do that despite the situation, she didn't know. Maybe to distract him from… something? Not even she knew!
"Good morning mister commander!" Ayame quickly interjected with what she hoped was a dopey smile, careful to not show her fangs, using two titles to make herself seem like your average young, excitable woman journeying with her 'boyfriend' "Never expected to be pulled over by Japan's most famous enforcer of the law!"
Daizo sniffed the air and then looked over at the trailer. "Are you carrying a pack back there? I mean, carrying animal in that kind of trailer is a crime, you know."
Ayame faked a laugh at that, while at the same time tapping Pausanias' leg to get him to play along. "You know how some dogs are, they follow their owners anywhere!" He replied.
At this Daizo raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "Family?"
"Yeah, my family, thirty of them and an entire pack of lovely pooches!" She cringed at herself for using the word 'pooches', not just because it was a grave insult towards her kind and because she was the one who uttered it, but also because just how ridiculous the tone she was using had gotten all of sudden. "Antonios here needed to drive his new truck with some weight dragging, and they always wanted to see a truck from the inside."
It was the alibi she and her family had prepared in case they were stopped by the police; she just didn't expect to actually use it… or do so because the single most dangerous thing to her tribe would be pulling them over!
Pausanias understood what she was doing, giving her a small nod, before turning back to the detective. "So, is there any reason you stopped us, commander? Shouldn't you be back in the city, what with those things running rampant?"
Daizo shrugged, his smile never leaving his face. "They gave me a day off, stress and all that. As for you, I'm afraid one of your rear lights is broken."
Pausanias frowned at that, before grunting. "Must have been some asshole we didn't see."
In truth, their ride until then had been very quiet… and Pausanias had even delayed it to make sure they wouldn't be stopped for that very same reason. Something was up.
"You don't believe me? Get out there and take a look, son." Daizo replied before looking at Pausanias more closely and seemingly realizing something. "Say, you're not from here, aren't you?"
"What gave me away?"
"Your face, your accent, and the fact your girl called you Antonios. Could be portuguese or spanish, but they don't have 's' at the end." Daizo replied.
Pausanias, after glancing at Ayame and wordlessly saying 'stay here', gave a little chuckle before opening the door and coming down. "Antonios Fotas, from Greece. Came here for a job as a delivery boy, but ended up a trucker."
"Isn't that better?"
Pausanias shrugged as he closed the door. "Took me a while to learn how to drive the previous truck. This one's a monster in comparison."
As the two made their way to the back of the truck, Ayame grabbed the communicator to tell the others about why had they stopped, hoping that they could keep their composture.
"Someone grab the damn thing!" She practically screamed at it.
"Ayame, did we already reach the-"
"It's Daizo! He's stopped us!"
There was silence for a second, before she heard her grandfather speak in a terrified tone. "You mean Uehara Daizo?
"Yes!" She even nodded frantically despite no one being able to see her do so.
"Oh no." She heard him breathe. He wasn't the only one: the entire tribe entered in a panic at the sudden news, but fortunately they were relatively quiet; none dared to raise their voice beyond a whisper, for fear of being caught.
"Hey, as long as we stay quiet, nothing will happen, right? Right?!" She heard Ginta say.
"He knows you guys are there."
"Say that again, please, I think my ear is-no, nevermind, we're hearing him talking with Pausanias right outside the freaking trailer!"
"Ayame, why the hell did you tell him about us?!"
"I had to tell him, he could smell you!"
She heard groans from several tribemembers. "That's what we get for skipping the changing form training!"
Ginta spoke once again "Then as long as we play our parts, we should be fine, no? I mean,"
"That's the thing, he might not be even human!" She still wasn't fully sure herself, but they needed to get the point across.
And then, as if by coincidence, something moved on the corner of her eye, outside the truck. Ayame glanced in the direction of the movement… and, once more, her heart momentarily froze when she saw something that, for all intents and purposes, should not even exist.
Where there was a simple police cruiser before, now stood a towering humanoid robot, as tall as the trees behind it, its eyes blazing red as it stood up to its maximum height… and a gun in place of its right hand that, given its height, had to be at least as big as Ayame's entire body.
A gun that was being aimed, given the direction it was aimed at, right at an unaware Pausanias.
Yeah, we're going to be without DS for a while (two more chapters), and hey, cliffhanger! Otherwise was Ayame's acceptance too quick (he'd been with them for a week), or reasonable given the situation? As always, was the chapter well written and entertaining, despite lacking action? Is the drama enough? Should Ayame and the tribe be more prejudiced? Did I introduce Daizo in a proper manner? Was the ending alright? Tell me things, guys!
And yes, Ayame and Pausanias are going to end up together. I mean, why not?
The decepticon in question (Destrons is their original name from Japan) is Barricade. Yes, it's an ink monster (it skipped the transformation, that's why Ayame didn't heard it changing). No, there won't be any more decepticons in the future, it's just a quirk of Daizo that shall be explained in the next chapter.
The Lion and the Wolf III
One moment, Pausanias was commenting to Daizo about many things, among them the possibility of the commander seeing the family of yokai, to the point of forgetting about the broken mirror, the next he heard the screech of something metallic and Ayame screaming.
Startled, the young man turned around to see what did just happen, and saw something he most definitely didn't expect.
Ayame fighting a twenty foot-tall robot ( or rather, a twenty foot-tall robot that looked like a police car had decided to become a laser-shooting android) with nothing but her sword and speed. Fortunately, like any giant robot, it was slow and clumsy, and Ayame had super speed and reflexes on her side. On the other hand, she wouldn't be able to damage it, not with a simple sword and hardened leaves.
Unfortunately for it, Pausanias was near, and he didn't actually need weapons to tear it apart.
Not even bothering to ask Daizo for help, Pausanias tore his jacket and ran at full speed towards the machine, which had finally grabbed Ayame after she managed to make it drop its gun, and prepared to rip her in half. The machine didn't have time to turn towards the source of the screaming before Pausanias slammed himself into one of its legs, forcing it to the ground and allowing Ayame to escape its hold.
"Ayame!" He asked while helping her to stand up. "Are you alright? That thing nearly ripped you in half!"
Ayame nodded, a bit shaken by having been extremely close to death, but otherwise fine okay all things given. "A bit hurt, but I'll live. Besides I'm not the who crashed himself against a giant robot!"
Pausanias waved her off. "It's just metal, and believe me, I've been hit by worse before." He hadn't, but being hit by a training press had to be close enough. He then turned to look at the fallen machine. "Any idea of what is it?"
"I think it's a Destron." Ayame replied.
Pausanias turned to give her a puzzled look (he knew of The Transformers, but only by their english names, and even then the most he actually knew of them was that they were transforming robot), but before he could ask further the machine roared and stood up, grabbing weapon from the ground and glaring at them. "Let's scrap this thing."
Ayame nodded, and both charged at the Destron, not realizing that the tribe had gotten out of the trailer by the ruckus… and that Daizo was watching them from afar.
Ayame, being much faster than, only this time she made sure to stay well outside its reach, throwing her leaves at it to distract it, while Pausanias met its free fist with his own, blessed, trained muscle matching cold, hard metal. His idea was to lunge at the machine's main body, force it to the ground once more, and then rip its internal components to take it out, but all of sudden the robot became quicker on its feet, refusing to approach the warrior more than the necessary, even if he could take the punishment.
The Destron's other arm, the one the machine couldn't use against Pausanias, kept firing laser after laser at Ayame, each shot destroying a tree as it struck it. The she-wolf, though, was simply too fast for the machine's targeting systems.
Eventually, seeing that the fight was going nowhere, and not wanting the machine to forget about her and shoot Pausanias, Ayame raced once more at the it, but rather than attacking outright she instead climbed up its front and, screaming, threw several leaves onto its face, disabling its eyes and rendering it blind. This didn't destroy it, not by a longshot but it did make it impossible for it to see them.
That meant, by extension, that it couldn't see Pausanias imitating Ayame and climbing up its body, only this time to reach its head and rip it off with all his might.
It's body giving a metallic groan, the headless robot dropped to the ground in a heap, its chassis losing any color as it did so, and shaking the trees around it.
Pausanias, seeing that the machine would not move, crushed its head for good measure and threw it away before going to Ayame, who was panting due to both exhaustion and excitement.
"Ayame, you alright there?"
"Yeah, just tired. Never expected to fight a Transformer, let alone a Destron." She said before smiling at him. "And thanks for the help."
Pausanias returned the smile. "It's my duty remember?"
Meanwhile, several tribe members approached the downed robot carefully, not knowing if it would get up again. All sans one, that is.
"Is that a Destron?!" Ginta practically shrieked, no longer confined on his wheelchair but still covered from head to toe in bandages; at least he wasn't complaining about the heat they gave. "Did Ayame and Pausanias just kill a Destron?!"
"Don't get too close to it." One of his tribe mates warned him.
"Oh c'mon, it's dead! I mean, they didn't get its laser core, but it ain't moving either!"
"Wait." One of the wolves said before getting close to the fallen machine and sniffing it. "Does this thing smell like ink to you too?"
And then the downed robot, to the shock of the group, began to melt, not into molten slag as it logically should had, but into a black, viscous mass. Said glob of black slime, but instead of attacking them, it went across the group without even touching them, and moved towards the truck… or, more specifically, to Daizo, who for some reason didn't seem to care that a giant mass of liquid darkness was crawling specifically at him.
Had the blessed man known the truth at the moment, he'd tried to kill Daizo. Alas, he didn't.
Before Pausanias could warn him of the danger, the slime reached the detective, who raised his arm as it came closer… and then, to the astonishment of the group, absorbed it through the palm until nothing was left.
Daizo, seeing the astonished and even scared looks they were giving him, turned around to do something they couldn't see and then turned back towards them. "Damn, I guess the jig's up." He said in a humorous tone. Naturally, given the situation and what just happened, nobody laughed.
"I told you that bastard isn't human." Ayame whispered to Pausanias as she stood next to him, sword in one hand and magical leaf in the other as she glared at 'Daizo'. "He smells like one a bit, but there's something else there, ink I think."
"Anything else?"
Pausanias, hearing this and after watching the 'man' absorb a mass of ink that previously had been a murderous robot bent on killing them, and one that before that had been Daizo's car, reached a conclusion: that thing was not Uehara Daizo, and it had tried to kill them.
With a scream of anger, Pausanias grabbed the closest tree to him, and then threw it at 'Daizo', who didn't have time to dodge the makeshift javelin until it hit him and made him explode into a splash of ink. The thrown tree kept flying until it hit the other side of the road, leaving a small trace of ink on its way.
The tribe, Ayame included, stared at the spot where the greatest threat to their lives had been standing on mere seconds prior, frozen in awe, not believing that he had just been taken out so easily despite his reputation. Well, that and because they just bore witness to Pausanias' strength. They DID know that he was strong, but not that strong. In the meantime Pausanias, went back to the cab, not only to start the engine but also to get his helmet and weapons. After fighting a Transformer and killing a creature passing itself as commander Daizo, he wanted to be prepared for anything.
"Holy crap, you just killed commander Daizo!" One of the wolves cried the situation kicked in.
Pausanias, after putting on his helmet. "That thing was not the commander. Now stop gawking and get back inside, we must leave, now, before-" He managed to order before a voice interrupted him.
"Oh, already leaving, mutts?"
Everyone turned around to see something that froze them (even Pausanias to a point) with fear.
It was Daizo, standing next to the truck alive and well, wiping his jacket from dirt and still with that damnable smile on his face, as if he hadn't been liquidified mere seconds prior.
"Welp, I gotta hand it to you, you pack one helluva wallop." He said after stretching his arms after getting a tree thrown at him, even tipping his hat at Pausanias in respect.
"W hat have you done to the real Daizo, freak?!" Pausanias snarled as he crouched in a fighting stance, pointing his sword at the creature.
He felt a soft hand grabbing him by the sohulder. It was Ayame, who was had her pelts drapped on. Her gaze was too fixed on the officer. "Pausanias… I think that thing IS the commander."
The 'creature' recoiled at the tone, before sighing in annoyance. "Hell, never expected a wolf to actually be perceptive, and a goddamn spartan of all people to be idealistic. Son, the girl's right, I AM detective Uehara Daizo."
Pausanias stared at Ayame; a part of him didn't want to believe either of them, but after everything he had just seen, he knew they were telling the truth.
Which, by extension, meant he was most definitely a fraud, because Pausanias didn't know which term meant 'bastard who uses his powers to kill people and make himself look like a hero'.
"Yep, I'm a scoundrel, a dirty murderer, a disgrace to the Agency and a liar." Daizo said when he saw the glare Pausanias was sending him. "And unfortunately for you, I cannot let you leave with that knwoledge… or live, for that matter."
"Why did you do it." Pausanias asked, not thinking before speaking, angry as he was. The only thing stopping him from running at Daizo and chopping him in half was that he didn't know his full capabilities, only that he could shrug having a tree thrown at him and could control ink.
"What do you mean, exactly?" Daizo asked back. "Setting your furry friends up? Sometimes the crooks I catch are real so that people don't get suspicious, while others I make them when I go for the grandiose, what with being able to create anything. This time, it was time for the real deal. Helped that one day I found out about the yokai extirpation order from the Mikado himself."
"So, that's why you made up the 'man-eating dogs'?" Ayame growled. "Because you're a lazy bastard hellbent on genocide?"
Daizo chuckled. "More or less, yeah. You know, I think this is what supposed to happen: good cop reveals himself to be 'evil' and all that." He even airquoted when he said 'evil'. "I could tell you the story of how I, a simple painter from the feudal era, ended up becoming the most powerful sonuvabitch in Nippon, and even more. However…"
Daizo then extended his arms towards them, prompting the two to flinch. However, instead of attacking as they thought he would, Daizo instead began sprouting a veritable sea of ink from them, which then divided itself into several globs.
Said globs of ink stood up and took the form of tall, armoured robots with red lenses and guns attached to their arms. Pausanias had seen those machines before: the LexCorp drones from the zoo. Pausanias had already fought them before: their weapons were weak, their chassis easy to scrap, and their intelligence too rudimentary to make them little more than a nuisance.
Thing was, those things merely looked like robots, their guns were not a threat to Pausanias alone, and there were fifty of them instead of just three… and that number was growing by the moment.
Daizo then overlooked his army and then harrumphed for some reason. "I think it's a bit unfair, don't you think? I mean, there are too many robots, all of them armed with machine guns, and only two of you are able to fight them." He then snapped his fingers. "I can fix that."
The drone army became ink once more, and Pausanias actually hoped that Daizo had decided to fight them himself… only for the mass to turn into another army, only this time it was an horde of monsters: orcs, goblins, zombies, dragons and giants bigger than his truck, demons just as big as the aforementioned behemoths, human barbarians that nonetheless clearly fit amongst their peers… and, maybe not incidentally, wolves the size of horses.
Daizo chuckled when he saw the terrified looks of the yokai and the greek. "I gotta give it to the americans, they know what to make to inspire me. It's a quirk of mine, really." His jovial voice became even more jovial, which only made him seem even more unnerving. "How about giving you a five minute start before my army straight out of Wizardry, magic included, hunt you down, uh?"
Pausanias kept staring at the army. He knew he could all of them on, but only one on one, not an entire army of them. An army that for all he knew could get even larger.
And that, of course, not taking its creator himself in account.
"Pausanias, what do we do?" He heard the horrified voice of Ayame's grandfather ask him.
Pausanias stayed quiet, still thinking.
Again, he felt the touch of Ayame's hand on his shoulder. "Pausanias?"
Against that kind of power, there was only one thing they could do.
"Run as fast as possible."
He should have known they were being herded until they encountered the cliff. After all, dragons could fly, and theorically so could demons.
Or the fact he was fighting ink. Ink that could just recover from any slash and chop from his sword, or even reconstitute into something else. That said, even if he had known that critical piece of information before, he would had still fought them.
He and the adults of tribe were more than capable of climbing up the thirty-foot stony face, and Ayame could even clear it in a single bound, but the elders, he children and those in wolf fom could not, they could not just get around it in time… and the horde was dangerously close. He actually pondered on the possibility that Daizo had planned all of this ahead… which both infuriated and scared him.
He only saw one solution: stay behind and fight Daizo's horde so that the tribe could get away. To where, he didn't know, but anywhere else would have been better than being killed, or worse, by ink monsters.
It had been stupid of him to expect the tribe to leave without him after everything he had done for them, but at the very least they didn't try to get themselves killed helping him fight the horde.
Even in after losing his sword and getting overwhelmed, half dead and getting the life beaten out of him by dragons and demons the size of houses, Pausanias refused to yield, to beg for mercy, and not just because it wouldn't have changed anything.
Until Ayame came screaming at Daizo with her blade raised. Just as quickly she was defeated and then set upon by the ink creatures.
He didn't bother to shout at Daizo to let her go: he knew the monster was bent on killing the entire tribe.
"Imagine the headlines: the commander wipes out the man-eating dogs from Hell and their Spartan master!" Daizo said as he raised his arms, ala a film director, as the largest of the ink creatures continued kicking Pausanias, all the while Ayame screamed her heart out and struggled to escape the monsters holding her in place. "Of course, I'll have to make up a reason for you for being here, but that'll be easy to-uh?"
Whatever made Daizo stop talking also made Pausanias' torturers to stop attacking him, letting him
A somewhat round object that Pausanias recognized as one of the many weapons he had made for Ares alongside his father.
A hand grenade.
He simply couldn't mistake it for anything else, since it looked too much like the ones used by the U.S military, pin ring and everything only more… futuristic, for lack of a better term.
And then the ring, defying everything Pausanias knew about grenade parts, pulled itself out of the bomb, as if pulled by magic. Pausanias didn't have time to ponder on this because he was laying just a meter away from the grenade.
And then it started beeping.
'Shit!'
Gathering the little strength he had left, fueled by fear-boosted adrenaline, Pausanias took advantage of the momentary distraction to get up from the grass, run up at Ayame and throw the two to the ground… just as the explosive detonated, creating a explosion so powerful it utterly annihilated anything within a radius of five meters.
Had Pausanias raised his head at that moment, he would have seen that the creatures within that radius simply ceased to exist, and those close enough exploded into black-coloured gore, instead of ink. Instead, he was busy making sure Ayame (and his hearing, for that matter) was alright.
And then, as the smoke and dust cleared and he finally looked up to see the results of the explosion, Pausanias saw, standing right in the spot where the grenade had gone off like a spire of green steel, the most awesome and relieving sight he could think of.
Doom Slayer himself.
It seems Doom Slayer has decided to get personally involved on this… which makes sense, given Pausanias' brave but futile performance against Daizo. Never said anything about the SI not delivering the weapon himself.
If the fight with Barricade seems sloppy to you, it's because (I think) it is: sometimes I'm just not good at writing fights. Fear not, though, because the next chapter's fight will be better written (or at least, that's what I hope).
Last edited: Oct 19, 2021
The Lion, the Wolf and the Slayer
After the dust cleared up, and everyone saw who came, everything fell silent. Even the horde, previously screaming like the army of monsters it was, stopped not just making any sound, but also moving.
Which made sense. After all, it wasn't everyday Doom Slayer came to save someone's behind.
Both Pausanias and Ayame, still on the ground, stared up at the armored figure standing tall in the center of the crater and his back turned to them, the former in awe and wonder, the latter in terror and dread, but both with equally wide eyes. Ayame even gave a whimper of fear when he turned around to face them, not helped by them laying on the ground, and in turn making Slayer seem even larger than he already was.
Suddenly, two objects appeared out of thin air and right into Doom Slayer's grip. He then extended his arms towards them.
One, the one he held with his left hand, was a long, bulky weapon of some sort. Ayame had no idea what it was, but Pausanias did, and in fact he had seen it in action when Doom Slayer used it to a hijacked tank on its tracks; according to his father when he saw footage of the weapon, it was some kind of energy weapon.
The other was a simple chainsaw, with several sections of its blade covered in rust. Only, it wasn't your average logging tool, given the fact it was nearly half as big as the man himself (who in turn was over a foot taller than Pausanias), and had two horn-like metal protrusions at the base of the blade. That, and it had something on its blade that most chainsaws didn't have.
At least not those used to cut down trees, that is. And, upon closer inspection, Ayame realized that the rust on the blade… actually wasn't.
'Is that dried blood?' She thought with horror.
Pausanias, on the other hand, was still dumbfounded by the fact Doom Slayer of all people had come to their rescue, given that there must have been situations that required his attention in the rest of the world. As a matter of fact, he really didn't expect anyone to come to their aid.
And then a thought, a treacherous one, struck him when he realized that maybe, just maybe, Doom Slayer appearing was not coincidence: how exactly did he know? Did the know who and what Daizo really was? Did he let it happen?
The young man didn't realize he was clenching both fists as he stared at Slayer, his brow furrowing into a half-glare.
As this happened, the tribe overlooking them from the cliff saw that the ink creatures, for one reason or another, did not attempt to exploit the calm to attack the three as expected; as a matter of fact, they seemed to be scared. Had any of them looked at Daizo, they would have seen him terrified out of his wits. They didn't, however, astonished as they were.
Doom Slayer, after a couple of seconds, tossed the weapons to the pair just after they stood up: the rifle to Ayame, the chainsaw to Pausanias.
Ayame nearly fell over when she caught the gun; she was stronger than she looked, a given for humanoid yokai, but it still was a gun half as big as she was, and probably half as heavy. Her dismay only grew when she saw that the device was not only stupidly heavy and bulky, but also lacked anything that resembled an ironsight… and that without taking into account she knew jack about firing guns at all, much less blasters. Did he really expect her to know how to aim it, let alone use it?
Pausanias, however, had a much different reaction.
A few moments after his fingers gripped the chainsaw's handle (unlike Ayame, he had no problems catching the thing), Pausanias began to feel fresher, angrier even. He didn't heal or anything, he just stopped feeling pain, which given everything should have made him wary.
It instead allowed him to remember what Daizo had told them, what he had planned to do to the tribe, the fact he nearly killed him and Ayame, and the fact that Doom Slayer had, for some reason or another, let it all happen.
He was furious, so much that the possibility of Slayer having not realized about them didn't occur to his adrenaline-rushing mind.
One of the ink monsters, a goblin, chose that moment to attack, charging at Pausanias shrieking and with its knife raised high.
The son of Hephaestus merely glared at the approaching creature, signaling Ayame to not intervene, and just as the goblin lunged at him, Pausanias swung the saw at it, bisecting it vertically. However, instead of oozing ink, the serrated blade actually cut something that could be called black gore, just like the one left by the grenade.
As they fell back to the grass, the 'solidifed' innards didn't recombine, or liquidify, or anything. They just… stayed dead, for lack of a better word.
This also made the entire horde, and their creator, to recoil back in what unmistakably had to be fear.
Pausanias stared at the remains of the creature, then at the blade, and finally at the Slayer, his anger at him momentarily forgotten after seeing that he now had a way to actually kill the monsters.
Both exchanged knowing looks and nodded, before Pausanias revved the chainsaw and charged at the horde and Slayer walked towards Daizo, leaving a startled Ayame fumbling with her improptu weapon.
As I suspected, John's hasty enchantments hadn't been needed: the plasma gun's bolts were hot enough that the ink forming Daizo's creatures simply vaporized, essentially killing them by accelerated evaporation. The fact she didn't know how to handle firearms wasn't really an issue, given the gun's sheer rate of fire and relative little recoil. Plus, soon she realized it wouldn't slow her down by much.
On the other hand, the ink freaks struck with the chainsaw, due to the girl's inherent power that my weapons (plasma gun included, even though it really wasn't necessary in this case) shared with me, entered a stage of pseudo-solidification that prevented them to recompose, which was very bad for them given that said state was due to, well, a fucking chainsaw.
Or, in layman's terms, they became real 'boys' for a moment before being brutally sawed apart, or blown in case of the grenade.
Unfortunately, giving the chainsaw to the man, called Pausanias. had the unexpected side effect of making his levels of adrenaline rise to their limit due to a placebo effect which, given the situation, turned him into a berserker… or rather, a pseudo-berserker: he was pissed, but still had enough sense to not attack the girl, Ayame. Nonetheless, that anger of his ended up being a minor annoyance for me a few minutes later.
Now that both of them were more than capable of dealing with the ink constructs, I decided to focus on Daizo. Sadly, I didn't want to kill him, not yet, becase I needed to know why did he attack them (remember, I'm omnipresent to a point, not omniscient), and what else had he done, even though I had an idead that ended up being quite close to the truth.
Didn't stop me from ripping him piece by piece several times when he became a giant ink monster to save his sorry hide.
And no, I don't mean the induced pain he got every time I tore his monsters apart.
Uehara Daizo, commander of the National Police Agency and famous across the archipelago for stopping several dangerous villains that he himself had created, began the day believing that the final stage his plan to get a promotion was secure: follow the truck carrying the wolf tribe, stop them in a low-transit highway so that there wouldn't be any witnesses, kill them, and then telling the boss an outrageous story about how he finally caught and killed the man-eaters. Sure, the driver turned out to be a superpowered guy, but that only delayed the inevitable.
Then things took an unexpected turn for the worse. Much, much worse.
At that moment, Uehara watched as the new arrival, and most likely the cause of the explosion that nearly blew him apart, turned around to face Antonios and his yokai girlfriend, his face betraying no emotion as the man made a gun and a chainsaw of all things appear out of nowhere and gave them to the couple.
In truth, he was scared shitless, and not just because his plans had been foiled for the first time since ever, but also because of who had done so.
'Do something already, you big metal prick!'
The goddamned Doom Slayer, aka the superhero he really DIDN'T want to ever come to Nippon for any reason. He didn't want Superman to come either, but the Boy Scout lacked the… whatever Doom Slayer used to teleport around, and very possibly see things that should have not been seen.
And unlike Superman, or any other famous superhero for that matter, Doom Slayer was more than willing to kill his enemies. Just ask those Red Pitchfork nutters or that parasite from Spain. Apparently he killed only when the victims themselves did something unforgivable.
Like, for example, murdering several dozen people and then accusing an entire group of yokai of doing the deed just to become superintendent, something that most definitely warranted the death penalty in most of the world. None of that, however, held a candle to everything he had done for four centuries, not even faking those villains and the deaths they caused. Or the hundreds of murders he committed since becoming a monster for that matter.
For the first time since he became the monster he was today four hundred years ago, Uehara realized he could be dead in the next five minutes.
Then, something (he didn't know what) compelled one of his semi-independent monsters to attack Aleksandros… only to be cut in half by the chainsaw. From top to bottom.
'What the hell?!' Uehara thought as he stepped back in fear and clutched his chest, feeling as if HE had been the one cut in half. This also caused not just one or two, but all his ink creatures to imitate him.
Many other monsters attacked, but Antonios, swinging a revved chainsaw around as if possessed by an onryo, killed them just as quickly as the first one. Each creature killed made Uehara hiss in pain, again feeling as if he was the one being cut to ribbons. Worse still, the girl began firing the gun Slayer gave her, and while her aim left much to be desired at first, eventually she got an idea of how to use it, and even remembered she was faster than a cheetah, adding further to the carnage.
And then the Doom Slayer decided to kill some himself as he made his way to the commander.
Something that, of course, meant that the pain soon became agony, because they were actually killing the ink constructs… and by extension, hurting (though not really weakening) him. The explosion from before, but those had been just a few inklings unfortunate enough to be close, and they died so quickly he didn't really feel it, not five of them every ten seconds! He had never fought someone who could actually hurt him!
'How?! How can they do that?!'
Then the green bastard, instead of helping the greek guy and the yokai kill his monsters as he hoped, kept moving towards him, only this time he began to run. Uehara promptly made half of the army ignore the girl and Aleksandros and go straight for Slayer, and began spewing more and more ink, but even then it became obvious this was delaying the inevitable.
He couldn't get out of this one talking and twisting words, not with Doom Slayer, who despite the increasingly stiffer resistance from dragons, giants and demons didn't stop his march, his visor showed a glare that could have killed him had it been possible.
Uehara had to fight, and pray he could do better than a shark demigod.
And the only hope he had to at least offer some resistance was to unleash his most powerful form, the one he was reluctant to use because it took too much energy from him to form.
But anything just to keep living, at least for a few minutes.
'He wants to kill me? Fine! But I'm not dying without a fight!' Uehara thought as Doom Slayer was mere feet away from him before tearing his shirt open, grabbing his chest… and ripping it out.
'I think I'm getting the hang of this!' Ayame thought as she raced around the monsters, filling them with blue orbs of energy as she went, and relieved that she now could fight back against the monsters. The weapon was heavy, yes, but as she found out to her relief, not so much as to make her that much slower than usual.
Which still left her much faster than any of the monsters, which allowed her to develop a simple yet extremely effective tactic: run circles around them, force them into groups, unleash hell until they turned into vapour, rinse and repeat.
Pausanias, on the other hand, kept going at the horde without abandon, his body now partially covered in black blood and flesh from his victims. He didn't even need to keep the chainsaw running, he was more than strong enough to just cleave anything on his path. She was understandably worried that he ended up attacking her by accident, but at the same time was confident he wouldn't recognize her, which she doubted given he was simply very angry.
'And even then, I can just get out of his way' She thought as she liquidated a group of skeletons under the cheers of her tribe.
And then, of course, was the man who had basically saved them, Doom Slayer, of whom she was now significantly less scared after he helped them. She didn't care what Doom Slayer was going to do to that bastard (torture him, beat the hell out of him, kill him outright) as long as it made him suffer for what he did, but she did know that it would hurt.
Ayame, after getting rid of yet more monsters, watched in trepidation as the future soldier closed the distance between him and the commander, but just as he was about to reach him, Daizo did something that shocked her at first.
First, he grabbed his shirt and ripped it open. Ayame would have laughed at his action had it not been for Daizo immediatly grabbing his belly and, to her horror, ripping it out. Only, instead of spewing out blood and guts, the newly made hole on his body disgorged a torrent of ink that engulfed a smiling Daizo completely, but didn't stop at that.
As the ink kept flowing in front of Slayer, Ayame watched with terror how the mound kept growing in size, developing something that could be described as forelimbs, growing a strange, smaller mound at the top… All while Doom Slayer did nothing, seemingly inspecting it with interest.
And then a large mass eerily similar to a fist, larger than a car, sprouted from the growing mass and struck Doom Slayer with enough force to send him flying backwards into the treeline. Said fist then placed itself on the ground just as the rest of the arm began to came out, followed by another arm.
As the amorphous mass began forming into the shape of a man, Ayame's eyes widened in dread as the creature kept growing, and growing, and growing some more, until it finally stopped after reaching the height of a small skyscraper.
Daizo, who looked like a normal human a mere minute before, was now a towering giant made of ink, dark as the night sky and several times larger than even the largest ink demon, a eerie red haze glowing from both its eyes and the inside of its mouth. Overall, it looked like a demon had crawled it's way out of Hell itself.
Pausanias stopped his rampage to gawk at the titan raising over them like a spire of death, and even the other ink monsters stopped fighting to stare at their master. Ayame could also hear screams of panic and terror from where her family was located.
"Didn't expect that, did you, you green bastard?!" Daizo bellowed as he glared at the spot where Doom Slayer crashed, his roar shaking the very ground where the stood and deafening Ayame's, hurting her hearing to the point of making her cry in pain and drop the gun to clutch at her ears.
Whatever else he was going to do (keep talking, attack them, anything) was suddenly interrupted when a green missile crashed into its chest at breakneck speed.
Welp, Doom Slayer finally joins the fray, but so has Daizo, and this might be the first somewhat serious fight he's been since his arrival at DC. Does Pausanias becoming a killing machine just because a placebo and in spite of his injuries make sense to you guys? Could the placebo work at all given the universe and his own background?
If the fight scenes seem to be crappy and vaguely described, consider this:
A) As stated in Daizo's POV, it's the first time since ever someone managed to actually hurt him in any way.
B) Both Pausania and Ayame are actually good fighters themselves (though Pausanias is the better of the two), but had no real way of fighting Daizo's army.
C) Doom Slayer fighting some ink mooks. That is all.
As for Daizo's rather weird train of thought in the second half (first scared, then deciding to fight), he's been driven half-mad: unlike other villains, he knows to not understimate enemies that seem capable of dealing with him, and obviously knows of Doom Slayer's opinion towards villains like him.
Clash of Titans
Daizo could be considered my first 'true' oponent, in the sense I actually faced some sort of resistance from him: in his giant form he was vastly stronger and tougher than King Shark had been, although the latter was mostly due to his sheer size, and because at that size and state of mind he wouldn't register the wounds I inflicted, and again because of his size I couldn't apply the pankration techniques I self-learned, so the fight ended up coming to a trading of blows and some ripping.
It still wouldn't save him (I was merely giving him hope so that I could crush it) but it did made me remember that there were things out there in the universe, most of them vastly stronger than Daizo, things that could actually challenge me.
And one of them was Raven's father. Which I had yet to find despite my technology, John's magic, and the aid of the future League.
And then my sight gazed upon Pausanias and Ayame. Both of them were dangerously close to the fight, the girl frozen because of the fear, Pausanias due to the astonishment of seeing Doom Slayer and a titan of ink duke it out right in front of him. I really didn't want them to end accidentally killed in case I not-so impossibly slipped up or Daizo noticed them and decided to drag someone to the grave with him.
Later I also found out that Pausanias was also one of the foster sons of Hephaestus, who being a god did in fact know Raven's disappearance… but let's not be hasty.
At that moment I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could use more help, if not for finding Raven, then at least to protect the innocent, given that, as I already told you, I'm not omnipresent. Plus, they had prove themselves to be capable of fighting: had Daizo been vulnerable to conventional means, they'd have killed him. Of course there were several issues, like Ayame understandably being wary of humans and refusing to leave her tribe, and Pausanias newly made inner turmoil concerning me for reasons you might already know.
First, however, I had to earn their trust, or something similar. That, and see their fighting capability against a colossus.
Which was why I decided to feign being momentarily overwhelmed by Daizo, and see if they decided to 'help' me fight him.
Again, this also gave Daizo hope.
Hope that we crushed.
'And here I thought we'd be giving him his just deserves' Thought Pausanias as he saw a literal battle of giants unfold right in front of him, loathing of the soldier forgotten for the moment and admiration remembered.
Yes, giants: Doom Slayer was at least a foot taller than him, and Daizo… Well, nothing had managed to reach that size, aside from that giant chimp Superman had battled years prior, and even then, it was just that, an oversized monkey, not a giant made of ink.
The fight with the ink monsters had finally ended: those he and Ayame didn't kill either became inert or turned into ink once more to rejoin their master. He would have dispatched the former, but he was too busy observing the fight, reminding him of the stories of the Gigantomachia, the war between the Olympians and the Gigantes colloquially known as giants, that nearly destroyed Greece to free the Titans, of how Hephaestus himself caved countless heads with his hammer and fought alongside god and demigod to vanquish them underground.
Only this time, the size disparity between the combatants was rather excessive, given that the Gigantes weren't truly giants by human standards, and couldn't make themselves any bigger unlike their enemies.
Fortunately, Ayame wasn't so enraptured by it: after making sure her people were safe (they had been understandably terrified of Daizo's transformation, but Doom Slayer's attack help them keep their wits), she grabbed the plasma gun and continued destroying the remaining inklings, taking advantage of their paralysis.
Finally done, the yokai girl approached the amazed warrior, noting that he was dangerously close to the fighting, and still heavily injuried, enough to worry her more than the fact he was still carrying Slayer's chainsaw. At least he
"Pausanias, I think we should go with the others." Ayame said just as Doom Slayer slammed himself against Daizo once more, forcing him back to the ground. The impact was so strong, it created a shockwave that rustled every tree in sight, and even pushed the pair back. That only increased her fear of Pausanias, and her, being squashed by six hundred tons of ink. "And you need to have those wounds taken care of."
But Pausanias didn't budge a muscle even as she pulled from his arm, enraptured as he was by the fight. Ayame's worry only got worse by this lack of movement: at least when he had been crazy he walked and spoke (well, yelled like a maniac).
"My aunts are nurses, they can patch you up, c'mon!" She said before sighing and placing the gun's hot barrel on Pausanias' uncovered arm, making him yelp and finally getting him out of his daze.
"Uh?" He muttered in a confused tone, even blinking as if he had just gotten up from the bed. He then looked around and realized what happened. "Oh, sorry it's just… I've never seen this kind of fighting before… or Doom Slayer fighting someone for more than half a minute. It's amazing."
Ayame looked back to the fight and saw Slayer jumping on Daizo's face to punch it several times. "I guess it's incredible." As much as she loathed to admit it, she too was fascinated by the sheer scale brawl, but nonetheless she didn't want to be there if it scalated, which probably would. "We can still watch it with the others, at safer distance even. Plus you're bleeding like a stuck pig." She then grabbed him with her free hand and, seeing he wasn't offering resistance, began to drag him to the cliff. "C'mon, let's get those gashes cleaned."
However, they had barely moved three meters when Pausanias, still wanting to see the fight, looked back.
Just in time to see Daizo suddenly grab Doom Slayer out of the air and, with a roar, slam him against the ground with all his might. The attack made the earth rumble and even sent trees flying.
None of this registered on the pair, who stared at an equally confused Daizo with wide eyes.
"W-what did just happen?" Ayame muttered in a mix of shock. She really didn't expect Doom Slayer of all people to be taken out by that. It was as if Superman had been forced down by whoever that brute from Gotham was called.
"Daizo grabbed Doom Slayer and shoved him so hard he caused a short earthquake." Pausanias replied, just as shocked, if not even more.
"I know it happened, I just can't believe it!" She cried as she gestured at the giant form of Daizo. "Doom Slayer, beaten by some century-old ink monster turned cop, just like that!"
"Neither do I." Pausanias replied, just as surprised. And yet, something in his mind, something born of seeing the same videos of the man manhandling King Shark and holding up a fifteen-storey building told him this was just a momentary setback for the warrior from the future.
His hunch ended up being right, because a moment later Daizo screamed in agony as Doom Slayer tored his way out of the giant hand, his roar so loud that Ayame, because of her fine hearing, had to cover her ears until it died off.
"Nevermind then, it was just a lucky hit." Pausanias quipped as Slayer climbed his way up Daizo's arm.
Ayame, seeing that Slayer hadn't been defeated, released a sigh of relief.
"I thought for a moment we we're next." She breathed out. But then, a thought struck her: Doom Slayer had until then proved himself to be practically unstoppable, and at that moment reminded them of that little fact. And yet, how did Daizo manage to hit him at all? "Although it makes me wonder, how did Daizo get him?"
"I think your guess is better than mine, although that's because I don't have one." Pausanias admitted with a shrug of his sohulders. "What do you think?"
"Maybe he's holding back?" Suggested Ayame, although it was obvious by the tone of her voice that she wasn't sure herself. "Or didn't expect Daizo to be this strong?"
Pausanias shook his head. "I doubt he'd be holding his might with someone like Daizo." The possibility of Doom Slayer having observed them from before reared it's ugly head, but he pushed it aside for the moment. "And why do you suggest it?"
Ayame tried to think of a proper response. "Maybe to try and get Daizo to lower his guard? Or maybe he doesn't know what he's done and planned to do, otherwise I'm sure he'd killed him in the first minute."
Pausanias looked at her, then turned back to the fight just to see Slayer free himself and then uppercut Daizo. "Those are possibilities."
"Hey guys!" It was Ginta, who had finally discared his stupid mummy-wannabe disguise, alongside several other tribemates, both men and women, all of them young; apparently the group had come down the cliff to where were they stood while they were distracted. "Nice view ain't it?" He said with a grin.
Ayame was less than amused by their presence. "What the hell are you doing here! Can't you see the two forces of nature clashing and tearing the damn forest apart?!" She screamed at the group, making them wince. "It's dangerous in here!"
Ginta gestured at the duel. "To see it better and up close. I mean, it's Doom Slayer beating the holy shit out of a giant monster! Plus, you aren't exactly out of the fire, if you get what I mean."
Pausanias nodded in agreement, still not taking his eyes off the fight, just as Slayer twisted Daizo's right arm. "It's perfectly reasonable reason."
Ayame sighed in annoyance. "Only for idiots."
Pausanias was about to retort when one of the girls pointed at the fight. "Erm, guys?"
The group turned around to look at was she pointing at… and their blood froze on their veins.
Once more, Daizo had taken hold of Doom Slayer and tossed him off of him, only this time, very possibly due to sheer desperation and lack of options, he decided to go on the offensive. The moment Doom Slayer touched the ground, Daizo's giant fists fell down and struck once, two, three, more times at the spot he had fell on. And this time, Slayer didn't explode from below his hand.
This continued for a full minute, each hit shaking the earth and sending up clouds of dust, until Daizo finally stopped to catch his breath of all things, or maybe to calm himself down. Either way, it would have been comical, the sight of a hundred-foot giant being scared as Hell, but for them it was instead terrifying.
Didn't help that they could see Doom Slayer's prone body on the ground, motionless.
And maybe even, as impossible as it sounded, as much as their minds told them to not believe it, lifeless.
"He's not getting up." Ginta voiced what the others were thinking. "Big guy isn't getting up!"
And then Daizo, as if struck by something, turned to look to his left… and smirked when he saw them. Words could not describe the feeling the group had of being stared at by something that could take on one of Earth's mightiest heroes. Fear just didn't cut it.
Except for Pausanias, who only felt his anger rise.
"It seems I forgot about you pups." He said, his inhuman, reverbering voice sending shivers down their spines. "And it seems I underestimated myself of all people!" He chuckled. "Never expected to actually kill the fucking Doom Slayer! Too bad I can't brag about it, but I CAN brag of killing the man-eaters and the Spartan."
The yokai realized they were doomed, and that nothing could save them from Daizo.
But then, they had forgot that they didn't necessarily need Doom Slayer, only his weapons.
Pausanias didn't know what came over him. Maybe foolishness, maybe refusing to go down without a fight against the bastard who wouldn't stop at nothing to see him and the wolf tribe dead, maybe wanting to believe that Doom Sayer had been merely rendered unconscious, or even that he was actually testing them.
(By sheer coincidence, the last one ended up being partly right).
Or maybe, just maybe, he still had some rage left in him directed at both Daizo and Doom Slayer, the former for natural reasons, the latter because Pausanias still wasn't sure if he had let it all happen.
'Screw it, doubts for later.' Pausanias thought before raising the chainsaw and, with a shout, throw it at the head of the distracted ink titan.
Daizo's speech about how some people were made to become great and others to help those reach said greatness was rudely interrupted by a chainsaw to the head, and either by divine providence or sheer luck the tool landed right in the left eye. Again, words could not really describe the feeling of agony that fueled his roar.
The yokai, Ayame included, looked at Pausanias, completely aghast.
Pausanias didn't bother to look at them, focused as he was glaring at Daizo. "Stay back, I'll take care of him."
With that he did the most ridiculous and dangerous, yet brave thing he could have doen: he gave a battle cry and charged at Daizo, no longer wrathful and therefore cautious. Daizo, on the other hand, wasn't: he was hurt, he had lost and eye, but most importantly, he was winded after pounding Doom Slayer and coming victorious, and so wasn't thinking straight.
He wouldn't actually fight him, though, not if he did it right.
Pausanias' plan was simple: climb up Daizo's body, recover the chainsaw, and cut his head off. With his current form, Daizo was more than capable of killing him with a single blow; however, it also made him slow and sluggish, and it was obvious he didn't know how to fight much smaller oponents. Better yet, he apparently couldn't heal his lost eye.
Daizo stopped screaming before grabbing the tool on his eye and pulling it out, after which he looked at the approaching greek. "I'm going to shove an industrial printer worth of of ink down up your ass, you Achilles wannabe!" He roared as he, in a moment of pain-induced stupidity, threw the chainsaw at Pausanias, hoping to kill him.
Instead it impaled the ground right before Pausanias, who promptly grabbed it and jumped just as Daizo sweeped at him, grabbing onto his arm.
Daizo was about to squash the human pest when, suddenly, he was once more interrupted, this time by a hail of plasma bolts hitting him in the back. The damage was not minimal, trickles of ink fell down of Daizo, but it also made him angrier… and made him forget about Pausanias, and focus on Ayame, who refused to do nothing, not now that she could fight back and make him pay.
Most imporantly, however, she realized what Pausanias' plan was.
"Bitch!" Daizo shrieked at her.
Ayame merely grinned at him, showing her fangs. "I AM a bitch, you know!" She said. "A wolf to be precise!"
"You're gonna be a RUG when I'm done with you and your boyfriend!"
"You'll have to catch me first, then!" Ayame then flipped him off and shot some more plasma into his face before speeding off into the forest. Mad with pain, fear and rage, Daizo gave chase, followed closely by those tribemates also unwilling to stay idle, despite knowing they had no chance to fight Daizo.
"Shit, man, the bastard's fast!"
"Of course he is, his legs are longer than a bus!"
"Shut up and keep running!"
Daizo kept running after Ayame, smashing over trees and rocks as he went, too furious to remember Pausanias, who had jumped from the arm to the main body and started to climb. Other men would have fallen either because of the wild movement or the sticky-less nature of the ink composing Daizo, but Pausanis not only made of sterner stuff, he was also strong enough to just sink the fingers of his free hand on Daizo's 'flesh', using the chainsaw as an improptu climbing axe. The corrupt officer was simply too mad to care about the pain this gave him, not helped by Ayame sporadically shooting at him to keep his attention on her.
At least until Pausanias finally reached his right shoulder and sunk the serrated blade on it by mistake.
The sheer closeness of the pain and the fact it didn't come from the yokai's attack made Daizo stop and try to grasp his shoulder… only for it to pierced by Pausanias. As he looked again, he glared in fury when he saw Pausanias standing mere feet away from his head, glaring back and with the chainsaw revved.
Daizo growled, his hot breath washing over Pausanias. "You son of a bitch…"
Other men would have balked at the sight of a one-eyed, ink-bodied giant glaring at them.
Not Pausanias, not with his anger and determination, his goal to fulfill being so close, and the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
"I'm the son of a god, freak!" Pausanias growled back before raising the weapon given to him by Doom Slayer, and cleaving Daizo's head from top to bottom with all his might. From the open wound erupted a geyser of black ichor that nearly pushed Pausanias off of Daizo, but the saw blade, still lodged on Daizo's head, kept him anchored.
The now nearly-headless body of the titan stood frozen for a few moments, until whatever it passed as its nervous system keeping it erect ceased to work, at which point it fell, the earth shaking as several hundred tons of ink crashed against it.
Pausanias, winded, tired and heavily injuried but otherwise content and victorious, let himself drop off the giant corpse, chainsaw still clutched. He was promptly set upon by Ayame, who hugged him, followed closely by the cheering wolves that had followed them.
"You did it! You killed Daizo!" She cheered with a smile before stepping back and then helping him stand up.
Pausanias, who was still breathing, smiled at her. "I wouldn't have been able to do it if you hadn't dragged him into a wild chase, you know."
Ayame smile's widened at his appraisal, and was about to reply when, suddenly, she heard the rumbling of something large moving from behind them. Turning around, the group saw with increasingly opening, horrified eyes as the previously thought to be dead Daizo rose from the ground, ink leaking from his body but clearly alive. And, by the way his fists were clenched, pissed off.
The monster turned to face the wolves and the son of Hephaestus, and from it's chest grew a face that leered down at them.
"Did you really think you could kill me just like that!" He roared at them, or more specifically at his 'killer'. "This body's just a tool! You hurt me good, but that's it! That's ALL!"
"W-what does it take to kill that freak?!" Ginta cried in shock.
Pausanias just growled as he once again started the chainsaw. "We'll just have to keep attacking until he's nothing but a pile of black gore, then!"
Ayame, glaring up at Daizo just as Pausanias, aimed the gun at Daizo, while the rest of group, despite knowing they had no way to hurt him, took stances anyway, preferring to die struggling than to be hunted down.
Daizo laughed at their defiance. "I like your guts, kids, but in the end it won't really matter! I took out Doom Slayer by myself! Do you really believe you can defeat me, when HE couldn't?!"
Before they could do anything, a deep, guttural voice spoke right behind the group.
"You didn't."
Pausanias and the others frantically looked back to see the last person they expected at that moment.
Doom Slayer.
As the green soldier, after several seconds of silence, began to make his way towards him, Daizo didn't scream, he didn'tattack, he didn't even try to run to save his miserable pseudo-hide. He just stared at the man he really thought he had killed.
And whimpered as Slayer jumped at him once more.
So, how was the chapter? Was it a good mix of action and narrative? And the ending? Sorry for focusing again on the crossover immigrants and not enough on Doom Slayer vs. Daizo, else the chapter would have been too short.
If some of you wonder how did Daizo even manage to put up a fight against Doom Slayer, it's chiefly for two reasons:
-Being a supernatural creature himself, Daizo can make his giant body obey a part of the square cube law (the larger a living organism is, the stronger it has to be so that its body doesn't collapse on itself, while also ignore. Granted, this is true for every giant monster in fiction, but I felt the need to point it out.
-Doom Slayer let him, both to see how well did Pausanias and Ayame fight him now that they had the means to do so… and to raise his hopes of winning.
The Aftermath
As I stared up at Daizo, and he at me, I couldn't help but feel that perhaps I had prolonged the situation for too long: he was terrified out of his wits, had proven himself to be unable to actually harm me, and even with my aid he nearly got the group. So, I decided to end it.
I jumped at him once more, only this time I wouldn't just push him to the ground. No, this time, I'd rip him out of his disgusting biomecha.
Made even easier due to the fact that, because of circumstances, his face was on his chest. And he screamed when I pounced at him.
I entered his open mouth, grabbed the real Daizo by the throat, and exited the back in a shower of black matter and ichor that had been that body's gore and blood respectively, had it been a flesh and blood creature.
Then, as we finally touched the ground, I began to strike him, slowly but surely, in a way that assured he wouldn't die. As for why did I do that, beat him without killing him, I did so to remind him that he never had any hope to stand against me.
None at all.
By the time I was finished with him, Daizo was still alive… and only alive: every bone below his neck turned to dust, left eye dangling from its eyesocked blood (actual blood, if black to the point it seemed like ink) pouring from every large orifice on him, uttering unitelligible moans of pain, and overall on the verge of death to the point a kick from a kid could end him, but alive nonetheless. Truly, a grisly sight, if the disgusted noises and the clear sounds of people vomiting coming behind me were anything to go by.
And yet, as already stated, he was still alive.
Of course, I could have killed him outright, but I didn't, because I would make sure to make his existence Hell… without even having to resort to torture. No, I would ruin his life, his reputation, his reason of existing, to the point he wished I had killed him outright.
Then, and only then, would he die. Or rather, he would be executed by the very same people he wanted to be respected, loved and admired by.
Sadly, the problem with this kind of things, making plans for yourself, is that most of the time only one person is aware of them, and that said plans could be ruined by people who had no idea of said planification, like a certain hoplite who wanted nothing but to kill Daizo and had the means to do so. It didn't take long for me to hear the familiar sound of a chainsaw cutting the air and over two hundred pounds of furious greek warrior running in my direction. Or, more specifically, at Daizo. Unfortunately, as much as I would have liked to see the man cut Daizo in half, I could not let him.
Fortunately, unlike most people in my situation, I knew exactly what to do to deal with the man.
Before the roaring blade could rip Daizo in half, I stopped it with my open hand, then grabbed it. Sparks flew as the blades met my armoed palm, and Pausanias growled as he tried to pull it from my hold, but I was simply too strong for him.
"Let go, dammit!" He growled as he pulled, but no matter how much strength he put into it, I simply didn't budge. "Let me kill this monster!"
My response was simple, blunt, and short.
"No."
Naturally he didn't like it one bit. He turned to snarl at me, never releasing the chainsaw. "Why not?!" He shouted. "Why the hell do you want to let this wretch to live, afte everything he's done?!" In truth, at that moment I didn't know what exactly did he do, but I've overheard his gloating as he tried to kill me and then chased after Ayame, and had an idea of his past actions. Besides, Daizo had been a bad guy in the cartoon, and his actions made clear this one wasn't any different from the cartoon.
As a matter of fact, he was much, much worse than the original. He had after all four hundred years to commit crimes. You'll see it later.
Plus, as I already told you, I wanted him to be killed by the japanese government, not me or a man that seemed to have come straight out of Platea. For that, I needed every last possible bit of information about him, not just recordings.
"Because if he dies now, there'll be no evidence of his crimes which, given what I saw, must be a lot. I simply don't know."
"We do!" I heard someone from the group say. It was the redhead I gave the plasma gun to, Ayame, who ran at us to stand next to Pausanias, the gun on her hands nowhere as angry as him but obviously not happy about me keeping Daizo alive, not just by the glare she directed at me but also because she had the weapon aimed at Daizo. "Damn it, YOU have to have seen him!"
I realized then that I knew neither hers nor his names "Name?" I asked her, earning a confused look. I clarified: "What's your name, girl?"
Her face hardened once more. "Ayame, just Ayame. He's Pausanias." She said as she gestured to him, still struggling.
"Ayame, I only saw him sending his monsters fight your friend, but I know he's a monster. Problem is, your country doesn't see him that way, at least not yet."
"Then we'll just tell them of how much of a freak this guy is!" One of the yokai exclaimed. "I mean, he set us up as murderers and basically tried to kill us to have good PR!"
Pausanias said nothing, busy as he was still trying to free the chainsaw from my hold, not even bothering to try and see if he could kill Daizo by himself, so angry he was.
"I'm perfectly aware of that, kid, but the people of Japan would take the side of a respected keeper of the peace over a bunch of creatures that, from their point of view, are man-eating creatures from legend, at least before revealing the truth, both about him and about your people. For that, I need answers, and to get those answers, I need him alive."
"But-" She said before I interrupted her with a raised hand.
"Do not misunderstand me, Uehara Daizo will die. But in the due time, and not at your hands, or mine for that matter." I then turned to look at Pausanias, who had long stopped pulling the chainsaw. "And you, stop pulling. I admire your bravery and determination, but believe, you just can't."
Pausanias glared at me for a moment, turned his head to look at the lying form of Daizo, and turned back to me.
"Besides, you seem to forget that this is my weapon, not yours." I reminded him before turning to Ayame, extending my free arm and opening my hand. "That reminds me…"
Knowing what I meant, the girl gave me the rifle back. After sending it back to hammerspace, I turned to look at Pausanias. His glare softened, he kept looking at me for several seconds before sighing and releasing the saw. The moment his fingers stopped curling around the handle, he closed his eyes and promptly fell to the ground in a heap. He did receive one helluva beating and lose quite a lot of blood, after all.
"Pausanias!" Ayame screamed as she dropped next to him. When he didn't respond, she panicked, and so did the others. "Say something you greek jerk!"
"Don't worry, he's just unconscious." I assured her as I retrieved the chainsaw. Still, she had every right to act like that. "The Fortress has the equipment to treat his wounds."
This caused the boy from before to perk up.
"Wait, the Fortress? You taking us to THE Fortress of Doom?!"
I nodded. I couldn't just leave the yokai and Pausanias there, not just because I didn't want to leave them in the middle of a forest, but also in case Daizo had someone or something following him. Plus, I also needed witnesses to corroborate Daizo's crimes, even though I had to prove some of them to prove the wolves innocence and to incrimnate him. So, I chose the most logical solution to the dilemma.
It also ended up solving one of the early problems I ran across for the Mars project: finding volunteers for the colonization project, and ones that actually had a reason to be AND stay in Mars despite the challenges. Again, you'll see them later.
"I cannot leave you here. Besides, eventually I will need people that have seen suffered at the hands of Daizo, in this case you, as witnesses for the courts."
Ayame looked at me with a concerned look, but not for Pausanias this time. "But the others…" She was, for course, referring to the rest of her tribe.
I had VEGA open two portals, one for us and the other for the rest of the tribe, who I knew would cross despite their fears.
"C'mon." I said as I shouldered Pausanias and grabbed Daizo by his foot. "Your family will be waiting."
Several minutes later, after dropping Daizo in the Ripatorium for several reasons (the lack of proper holding cells, for the very unlikely case he became active once more, and because I thought a literal dungeon was quite fitting), I was carrying Pausanias to an improptu medical wing I told VEGA to make, with both Ayame and John in tow. The bewildered tribe, meanwhile, was being looked after by drones for anything they needed.
"Y'know, I understand why did you do it. You're a superhero after all, helping the helpless, but… Don't get me wrong, this is your castle, but it's gonna smell like a bloody kennel in the morning."
Ayame, having learned english, didn't like the brit's comment. "Look who's talking! The entire place smells like a bar during a soccer match, and someone forgot to open the windows!"
The Fortress' systems filtered oxygen from the outside, but could not exfiltrate certain elements out… like the smell of tobacco. It didn't bother me, and John was… well, John, but the tribe was another matter altogether, not helped by their enhanced smell.
John was omniglot and understood perfectly what she said, but being who he was he paid her no mind and ignored her comment. "You some landlord or something?"
"John, I couldn't leave them down there."
"I know, I know, you have a hidden heart of hold, you're supposed to do this kind of things from time to time. But where, exactly, do you plan on keeping them at? And feed them with? Drink's not an issue, of course."
He raised a good point: the Fortress, while large enough, was not designed to hold that many people. Plus, despite being from Tokyo, the tribe was not used to being indoors, or rather, being crammed inside a castle with no visible exit. The fact said castle was in Mars, despite the amazement they had at being the first earthlings (technically third, but theu didn't know that) who had set their feet on the Red Planet.
"The main hall will suffice. If everything goes well, they won't be staying here for more than a couple days." But for that I had to clear their names… and ruin Daizo's. "Go to the Ripatorium and prepare Daizo, I'm going in."
"You mean…" He asked as he tapped his head, earning a nod from me. He, of course, was talking about entering Daizo's memories. "You sure you can't just ask VEGA to stick a needle on Daizo's eyes and drain his brain?"
"He could try and forcibly hack his brain for everything of worth, or what might remain of it, but I want to see his past firsthand, and record it for all of Japan to see just what kind of monster he is."
"The hoplite?" He nudged his head at Pausanias.
I shook Pausanias' prone body. "I told VEGA to prepare a bed for him. Even if he can possesses a healing factor, it's better to be on the safe side."
"And the girl?" He signaled at Ayame.
"Just concerned about him, that's all."
John just shrugged before leaving to prepare the ritual, while I kept walking with Ayame behind. "Don't blame me if the wanker dies. The inky one I mean."
Two minutes later, I was laying Pausanias in a medical bed from the UAC, several nodes attached to his naked chest and IVs connected to his arms injecting both nutrients and UAC-made nanobots. Ayame sat right next to him, obviosly concerned despite the fact she didn't have to; he was in a safe environment, his healing had already kicked in fully, slowly redoing the damage he suffered during the previous fight. This, in turn, was further accelerated by the nanobots helping in the reparation.
"Now" I said as I stood next to Ayame, making her look at me with unease. ", could you please tell me what happened down there?"
She told me everything she could, mostly about her tribe, about Pausanias and his pseudo-divine origin, and of what Daizo had gloated to them. Saving the adopted son of an Olympian was a boon, that was for sure, but at that moment I couldn't capitalize on it, at least until I took care of Daizo and Pausanias recovered.
"VEGA, how long until he wakes up?" I asked VEGA. Ayame, not yet knowing about him, was about to ask me who was I talking to when VEGA spoke, startling her.
"Approximately two hours, but it'll take three more for his body to fully recover, even with our aid."
A bit slow for someone with the blessings of the Greek pantheon, but still much faster than, say, Superman. "Good, inform me when he does." I turned to leave when I felt Ayame grabbing my arm to stop me.
"Wait! Before you go…" She then bowed, and when she rose up she had a small smile. "Thank you, for everything." She didn't say anything more, it wasn't needed.
I nodded at her. "You're welcome. Now, why don't you go to your family and see how're they doing? He's not going to die just because you left him for five minutes."
The girl nodded before speeding back to the main hall. After that I left the room and made my way to the Ripatorium and a waiting John, who was standing on the bridge, still inspecting the floating body of Daizo to make sure the ritual would be smooth as possible.
"A bit, late, don't you think?" He said as I made my way to him, his voice echoing across the nearly empty dungeon.
"I had some business to attend to. John" I asked him as I climbed up the stairs to him. ", will you do the honors of sending me inside this bastard's memories?"
Daizo's stopped being a threat, but the SI can't just off him just like that if he doesn't want to be seen as a murderer, because that's how it works in DC. Fortunately, as the ending makes clear, that's going to change… Next chapter will skip the memory watching and jump straight to Daizo being given to the japanese authorities.
Those complaining about the non-DC characters, I understand your annoyance, but I'm already well inside the story, so I cannot just rewrite them out, and they still have a part to play, and become an important sideplot. To put it simply, they're staying. However, it'll just be that, a sideplot: after Daizo's arc, we'll get back to purely DC, the search of Raven… and the formation of the Justice League.
Also, I think you will you be happier when I write chapters from… someone's POV in the future. I won't say whose, but he'll be unexpected.
DaneNagai said:
While everyone is talking about Ayame and Pausanias being "side characters" and such, I'm here mentally screaming as to why these people aren't simply running for their lives. Paus especially since he's irritatingly just standing there like a dimwit and looking back at the fight when he really should be getting the fuck out of there. At least have the common courtesy to just find a nice not where they aren't endanger.
Click to expand…
Click to shrink…
Bystander Syndrome, and in Paus' case it's a combination of misguided honor, lingering animosity, renewed confidence and exhaustion addling his mind, while the others are confident they can just run away if things go wrong.
The National Diet
Commander Daizo had been missing for over an entire week. At first, the NPA had chalked it up to him not wanting them to bungle his investigation, since it was usual of the man to do things alone, and he had the sanction to do so. However, after the Commisioner General tried to call his personal number (the one they only called when they thought they needed his help) only for Daizo to not pick it up. Again, this was not of concern the first days, but it became one after they repeatedly called him and got nothing.
Two days after the attempts, the Agency sent units to the last known locations of the commander, hoping that he was merely busy with his assignation, and not worse.
Their lack of sucess after scouring alleys, bars, houses and other such places made them realize the truth: Uehara Daizo had disappeared, and they had no idead of where to.
Four days after that, when it became clear that Daizo was nowhere to be found, the National Diet decided to call a meeting in order to organize a search, asking for the attendance of the Prime Minister himself given the importance of the issue.
And then, just as the meeting was about to commence, a blue vortex (one most of them knew of… and dreaded of seeing in person) opened right in the middle of the room with a loud blast, and after several moments of silence and bewilderment, three figures walked out of it.
The first one was a young woman, who couldn't be older than twenty five. At first sight, she seemed to be a normal girl all things given, despite wearing a fur cape of all things and carrying a small sword from her hip, but a closer look revealed her pointed ears and narrow irises. It was clear she was nervous by the rapid glances she sent to those around her, but otherwise she stood firm.
The second was a tall, well-built man, garbed from head to toe in greek armor with a small, straight-bladed sword hanging from his hip. Unlike the woman, he was anything but uneasy, glaring at everyone and occasionally at the third member of the trio, obviously watching for any threat that could come up.
The last one was Doom Slayer himself… dragging the mangled, naked body of commander Uehara Daizo across the tiles of the room, his blood dirtying the tiles.
The moment they realized what was going on everyone in the hall exploded, several guards rushing in and aiming their weapons at the trio. The young ones unseathed their blades, and it was clear that the man was more than willing to fight them, but the soldier from the alternate future ignored the guns aimed at him and threw the commander at the center of the room, before facing the Prime Minister and giving a bow of greeting.
"Your Excellency" He said.", I have come here to ask you to execute this… monster."
The head of state, not only not as agitated as the others but also wondering several things (among them how did Daizo end up like that, who were the two accompanying him, and chiefest of them all, why did the soldier call the inspector a monster of all things), decided to give him a chance to at least explain himself.
"Under what charges, mister Slayer?"
Rather than reply directly to the Minister, Doom Slayer fickled with his armor before projecting a hologram in the middle of the hall for all to see. Said hologram, recorded through Slayer's helmet given the presence of a Head-up display, showed a black, mystical location at first, but then focused on some kind of, for lack of a better term, tear in the time-space veil.
The first thing they saw was a man painting a beautiful woman on a canvas. It would have been nothing out of the blue, if not for the fact that said man looked exactly like Commander Daizo, if at least a decade younger, and wearing garbs from several hundred years before.
"This" Slayer Began to say. ", is the origin of Daizo."
They saw as the younger Uehara drew a circle with a square in the floor of his house, placing several candles of different colouring on smaller circles around the main one.
Daizo, after litting the candles, began to chant in an unintelligible language. The room he was in acquired a black coloration, and wax from the candles began to melt… and move towards Daizo, as if guided by an unseen force. Before reaching him, the small rivers of ink rose from the floor and took the forms of humanoid creatures.
Some in the council, the ones that dealt with things like metahumans, magic and the supernatural recognized what was happening: that was a black magic ritual, the kind of magic that only worked by dealing with evil spirits, binding the summoner to their will, gifting them with power and inhuman abilities, but at the cost of their souls.
However, when the ink spirits entered Daizo's body through his eyes, ear and mouth, nothing happened. There was an unholy screeching coming from unseen throats, and Daizo grit his teeth as if exterting himself, but then the smiled and stood up as the sounds died off, even dusting himself in a victorious manner.
Uehara Daizo had just defied evil spirits with nothing but sheer grit and determination.
The amazement of seeing Daizo bend the spirits with his iron will faded as they saw, several minutes later according to the HUD, as Daizo attacked a carriage and killed everyone inside (guards, servants, even children) with nothing but his bare hands to test his newfound ability.
Huge, clawed hands made of ink, that is.
The following images were just as bad, if not worse, seeing Daizo rob, murder, trick, blackmail and otherwise being a monster throughout the centuries, either by himself or through monsters he made from his body. How did his crimes evade their predecessors, they didn't know, but then again, lots of things could be done when your body secreted magical ink. Even the more advanced weapons of the ninetee and twentieth didn't do anything more than attract his attention, and inspire him into making his own gun-toting constructs.
After that they watched as Daizo joined the police force in the late seventies, raising rapidly through its ranks until becoming an inspector: many of the 'villains' he fought he had made himself, but at least Nya-Nya, Saico-Tek and Scarface were real beings, not ink constructs. No one had any idea of why Doom Slayer was showing them this, aside to prove that, indeed, Daizo was a criminal.
At least until they saw what came after, which proved that Daizo was a monster.
"Now, I shall show you the reason the… 'commander'" Doom Slayer said in a contemptuous tone as he gestured at the moaning form of Daizo. ", is in such state. I must warn you, though, the images you are about to see are not for the faint of heart."
"What could be worse than seeing a man slaughter hundreds of people in cold blood?!" One of the councilors screamed at him.
Doom Slayer merely glanced at the woman's general direction, causing her to pale and yelp in fear, before proceeding further with the recording.
The attendees would later wish they hadn't watched the rest of the recording.
They watched a girl being caught, then eaten alive by a horde of rotting corpses, some of which had black ichor dripping from openings in their bodies, as Daizo observed the act from several yards behind with an intense stare.
They watched a group of young adults scream in agony as a robed, pale-skinned old man electrocuted them, cackling as he did so, until there was nothing left of them but ashes, with Daizo standing next to the man, a lit cigarette on his mouth.
They watched an skeleton-like, red-eyed robot thrust its arm through a man's chest, ripping his heart out and catching it with its hand. Again, Daizo watched on, this time with a smirk of excitement on his face.
Finally, they saw as a pack of monstrous, red-eyed wolves the size of small cars tore into a family of three. And another, and one more. It was obvious by that point that the man-eating wolves were just.
Fortunately Doom Slayer only showed them those four, but something told them that these were just three of many, many more grisly murders Daizo had committed.
Apparently, the inspector became fond of foreign films and shows when these began being shown in Nippon, to the point of making the monsters and villains of said works real through his powers, for no real reason except that he liked to see them. They knew he was an eccentric man to be sure (mainly a womanized whose smile never faltered and whose eyes never opened beyond a squint), but to have such strange and morbid fetish?
What would have been laughable, even amusing in any other occasion was utterfly horrifying in the current situation… and enraging. After all, it wasn't everyday you found the hard way that the greatest and best of Japan's heroes was actually a monster.
One they had unwittingly helped, because everyone they saw him kill they recognized as several 'criminals' he had been 'forced' to kill for one reason or another, accused of crimes worthy of the death sentence.
Or at least, he had fooled them into believing so.
Then, they saw an army literally out of a fantasy book fight the greek warrior, who was eventually overwhelmed by the creatures.
Finally, they saw Doom Slayer fighting against a Daizo after he created a gigantic ink monster to fight the soldier, said giant being attacked by the armor-clad man and the woman, and finally the real Daizo being ripped out of the monster.
By the time Doom Slayer was finished with the recording, some were crying, either out of sheer fear or the fact they were the reason he had, others too shocked to do anything except stare, and the rest shouting and yelling. Of those, many accused Doom Slayer of fabricating the images they just saw, but just as many clamored for the creature he had brought to be killed right there and then. They understood why Slayer didn't kill Daizo before bringing him there and explaining himself, but surely he could have done so in a different manner?
Doom Slayer's response was simple, blunt, and straight to the point:
"He plagued your people, in your soil. It's your duty to make him pay for that." To be fair, he had done something somewhat similar to those atlantean terrorists.
Then, Doom Slayer asked the pair accompanying him, Ayame and Pausanias were they called, to introduce themselves… and the reasons they were there.
The woman's name was Ayame, and she was a yokai, more specifically (and surprisingly, given the circumstances) a wolf yokai; she even turned into a wolf to show it. After that the yokai began to explain to them why had she come there with Doom Slayer, why was she involved with Daizo.
The yokai extermination order. Just the fact that the recent murders and the 'man-eating dogs' were entirely due to Daizo finding out about it and deciding to take advantage of it to rise in the ranks sent a shiver down the councilors' spines. There were many such orders from before, none of them enforced but many of them involved killing or otherwise brutally punishing the transgressors. The yokai themselves really didn't have problems, since many of them had easily adapted to the changing society.
Or at least those who could pass themselves as humans.
Of course, the only japanese wolves left were those in zoos, and apparently some wolf yokai just couldn't adopt a human form, and not everyone would buy the excuse of them being wolfdogs from Europe. Daizo probably chose to hunt them down for this very same reason, because they'd be easy to track.
The man, Spartan he called himself, was a metahuman from Greece that, after coming to Nippon after being directly inspired by Doom Slayer, and finding out that being a vigilante in a mostly crime-free Tokyo was tedious, had somehow found out about the wolves and their problem, and offered to help them in getting out of the country before it was too late.
If not for Doom Slayer, the warrior would have most definitely been killed by Daizo, alongside the others.
If a man could find out about such ancient and nearly forgotten law, others could. The tribe didn't want retribution, or compensation: they just wanted the order to be so that her people, and others like them, didn't have to fear being hunted down like animals by men like Daizo.
So, in the end, it was decided that Uehara Daizo would be executed, even though the procceedure would take several weeks. The extermination order was also revoked after seeing firsthand the plight Ayame and her tribe went through.
Sadly, parts of the appearance of Doom Slayer and his companions in the National Diet, and their reveal of Daizo's true nature, was later broadcasted across the world… which meant that certain organizations stationed in the United States became interested in the nigh-invincible man-monster.
And they could wait.
Here it is, the end of the Brushogun arc. If you wanted to see Daizo being executed then and there, remember than even in real life those in death row can take years to be proccessed and dispatched, even the worst ones; plus, many just will not believe the truth. Besides, pretty sure many of you are sick tired of this arc… and frankly, I need a rest from it too. If you believe there are things still unresolved, the next chapter will have a quick recap of what happened in the background. Still, you can comment to point out if I'm doing the political part right or at least believable.
If the last paragraphs of the chapter seem rushed to you, they are, both to (again) end the arc and because I'm tired and wanted to upload it.
So, next chapter the SI will visit a certain smithy god after asking a certain question to Pausanias and getting a lead into Raven's possible location. After that, well, I'll see how to continue.
And no, Daizo ain't gonna join the Suicide Squad, or Luthor's paycheck. I'm not going to fall into the 'villain escapes, joins hero's enemies and becomes even more of a threat later' trope. It's just means he dies later.
Last edited: Nov 3, 2021
The Blacksmith
In the end, after showing to them everything I found in his mind, I handed Daizo to the japanese authorities for them to deal with. Obviously this didn't endear me to many people, from those who still believed he was innocent to those who knew he wasn't and thought I should have killed him, but I paid those no mind. My job was done, a particularly dangerous criminal defeated, and best of all, I finally came by my first real clue to Raven's location.
And I did so by meeting the god of smithing. In person, may I add.
I think I should elaborate on this.
First, the bad news. The reveal that the only thing making sure they stayed behind bars was a monster made the many, many villains that Daizo had arrested in the past to bust themselves out of prison to cause havoc once more, and ironically enough some of them were villains that the original Brushogun had created, all of them to be precise. Add in the Yakuza being reborn to fill the vacuum they had left after Daizo's imprisonment, and some new villains sprouting like mushrooms, and things began to look bleak for your average tokyoite.
The good news? Just because Daizo turned out to be a sham it didn't mean that there were no heroes to stop them. They were wrong, because now they had to worry about Spartan and Wolf Princess.
Yes, Pausanias decided to accept the nickname Daizo gave him, Spartan. He obviously knew the brutal history of the real ones, but supposed it was better than being called 'greek guy'. Another interesting sidenote: this universe's spartans were essentially an entire army of original Captains America, reaching the absolute physical peak humans could get by training; in comparison, Pausanias/Spartan was Ultimate Captain America, outright superhuman, due to being the son of an amazon, and sharing her blessings. Why is this important? Because it meant that a more brutal and willing to kill Captain America would be the one cowing the bad guys in Tokyo. Yes, Daizo killed too, but he was a cop, not a vigilante.
And yes, Ayame didn't exactly like being called the Wolf Princess, but again, the name stuck. As for why did she decide to become a heroine despite being wary about humans in general, she did so for several reasons, chiefest among them wanting to help Pausanias and to fix the mess that Daizo had left. Plus, she was the closest thing to a speedster the country had, if a sloppy one.
Now to Ayame's tribe. After Daizo got behind bars, the annulment of the order that began their problem, and the government donating several million yens to them as compensation, decided to go back to Tokyo. Two, however, wanted to stay on Mars: Ayame's older cousing Akane Takahashi, and her boyfriend, both of them geologists. Naturally this meant that they practically begged me to let them stay. Several buildings had been already made, and the fusion reactor was already powering them. so I agreed under the condition that they followed the rules I made for them, chiefest of them all never straying from mine or a drone's sight if they went exploring, not because of any possible danger (remember, this Mars was fully barren of life), but for the simple fact that it's Mars.
That, and not wanting them to stumble upon a rover and blow my future surprise for Earth.
Finally, let's get back to Pausanias, or rather, the help he provided me.
He was pissed at me (mostly for not getting rid of Daizo permanently, but also for several reasons he made explicitely clear to me and which you may already know about), but nonetheless decided to help me in my search for Raven when I asked him and Ayame if they knew of her, even showing them a picture of her.
Ayame, naturally, didn't have a clue of who she was. Pausanias, though?
"I think she reminds me of someone."
He did meet her. Or rather, his father had spoken to her mother; apparently he had been too young to remember anything more than the barest details of her.
"Can't forget that white robe and purple hair. Maybe my father remembers more of her?"
A couple of days later, I paid a visit to Hephaestus and his forge, located under a dilapidated temple on a desert island in the middle of the Adriatic Sea, away from the prying eyes of both deity and mortal (well, mundane mortal, but get the point). That said, he might have expected visits, because there was a doorbell on one of the walls of the temple.
Or maybe he foresaw my coming, I'm still not sure.
"Who is it?" I heard a deep, raspy voice ask.
"Doom Slayer."
"Figures you'd end up coming one day."
"How do you know it's me and not someone else?"
"That voice of yours, too natural to be faked. Plus, you sound like Zeus in a bad day, only reserved." He replied. " Why did you come here? Want to meet a god? Need a divinely made machine gun or something? I'm open. "
"Met your son, helped his ass, asked him a few things and told me you might have some answers to a dilemma of mine."
I heard Hephaestus grunt. "I suppose I can talk to ya, I don't really have anything better to do at the moment. Plus, we've always wanted to see you up close." The wall then came down, revealing a dark passage hid behind it… and a doormat of all things. "Come inside, I want to see Earth's newest self-appointed protector and Pausanias' idol face to face. And please use the mat, maybe the boys'll start doing so if they see you do it."
I was tempted to ask him why did he place a doormat of all things, but decided against it, not the time for stupid questions and came down through a dark corridor illuminated by torches, until I reached the forge.
The entire place was the perfect blend of both an ancient smithy and a steel mill, only much bigger than the latter despite being underground, at least half as big as the Fortress was, albeit more illuminated given the many smaller forges distrubited across the facility. His adopted sons were at that moment working, from walking to and fro carrying metal and tools to manufacturing objects. All of changed the moment they saw me walking in.
"Is that-"
"By Zeus' beard!"
"The camera, where's the damned camera?!"
And many others as they realized they were being paid a visit by the Doom Slayer himself. Soon, I was being surrounded by twelve excited young men in their middle twenties, barraging me with questions I didn't have the desire to answer, at least at that moment, most of them involving Pausanias.
"Excuse me." I asked the closest one, incidentally called Odysseus. "Can I ask you where your father's at? It's important."
"S-sure!"
A few minutes later, I was walking in on Hephaestus as he worked on the largest room, right in the middle of the place. Hephaestus himself was exactly as I remembered he would be, a stout, bald blacksmith on the shorter side, instead of a deformed freak of nature like his 52 incarnation who at that moment stood hunched over the mold of a sword.
A blacksmith who immediatly discerned my true nature the moment he saw me.
"Never expected a god to use mortal guns. Hermes and Ares do, but Hermes is Hermes and Ares doesn't really count given his job." He snorted at that. "The others like swords, spears, the like, but not shotguns. Tartarus, they see the use of anything that came after the discovery of gunpowder as too demeaning for them."
"How did you know about my… physiology?" I had no need to hide the (partial) truth from him.
"You reek of power, divine one to be accurate." He shrugged as he sank the sword on a nearby water barrel to cool it. "You know, my family would pay things you might imagine of just to know how did you slip by them, and to be honest I wonder that too, but I'm not exactly the kind of god who asks unneeded questions. Remind me Slayer, what are you here for?"
"I wanted to ask you something that Pausanias told me you could help."
"Ah, right. Say, would you be willing to answer a question of mine first?"
"Can't see why not." Technically I wasn't in a hurry, all things given, since if neither VEGA nor John could find Raven, not many others could, not even gods as I ended finding out.
"Do you know how Pausanias is doing? I know he calls himself Spartan now, but still, fathers worry about their children." He said before pulling out the sword and laying it on a table, after which he grabbed another from the forge and began folding it.
"What do you know of him."
Hephaestus shrugged. "Only that he's decided to become a more practive copy of his namesake and go to Japan to do so. I love him but he's an adult, I don't have to monitor him all the damn time, not that I can either."
"He nearly died fighting an ink monster turned police officer he couldn't hurt." I told him, making him stop hammering, as if digesting the news. "Although to be fair to the boy, this one put up a good fight agaisnt me, could have given even Superman trouble, if only for a few minutes." And that was at best.
After a few seconds of silence, he harrumphed. "Fighting against metal monsters and fake nazis doesn't really prepare you for a real fight, but no, he had to prove himself, I'm sure of it. Damned honor. Shouldn't have read him those old war stories." He then took a nearby hammer and began shaping the blade. "Did he fight well at least?"
"They would have killed Daizo if he hadn't been immune to conventional steel." I pointed out. "At the very least, he would have given him a good fight."
"'They'?"
"Wolf Princess was with him in the fight." Seeing his puzzled expression, I elaborated further. "A supernatural woman; her people were being hunted down by the monster and Pausanias decided to help.
Hephaestus muttered something before restarting his hammering. "Knew it would end up coming to this. It always happens. Anyway, what do you want to know?"
Rather than replying outright, I displayed a hologram of Raven's current appearance. "Any idea of where Rachel may be? Pausanias told me you met her before."
Hephaestus inspected the hologram before nodding "Hmmph, I actually met her mother, Arella. Yeah, met her once, twenty years or so before. Nice girl despite her circumstances, and good with spells. Imagine my surprise when some random woman actually managed to come here; even a powerful mage like her would have had it hard to find the island. Of course she had the help of a cult, a good one. All just for a trinket, albeit a nice-looking one with a neat trick."
"What did she ask you to do?""
"She asked me to make her a necklace, but not for herself. I think you may already know this, but Rachel's father is Trigon, and he wanted her back. Not Arella, the girl, and I'm fairly certain he hasn't given her up, or will for that matter." He then grunted, but this time out of anger. "I know his type."
"Why did you help her? A mortal, I mean."
He sighed. "Because I may have been an Olympian, but was also a parent like her, Slayer. She asked me for help to save her daughter from Hell because she could not remain here on Earth with her, a decision that tore her soul apart, and I agreed to help her to at least make sure Rachel would be safe from her father's ambition." He then chuckled as he remembered something. "Besides, screwing with Trigon was always something I wanted to do, and still do."
So, Hephaestus (and maybe the rest of the pantheon) had been involved with Trigon? Naturally that revelation caught my interest. "You met him?"
"I fought him." He corrected me. "And believe me, it isn't something I want to do again even though I didn't personally fight him. Bastard was just too strong, even for Ares. Only Zeus could fight him one on one."
So, we talked some more about several topics (including him mentioning something about sending more effective weapons to Pausanias in case something like Daizo happened again) before he gave me something to help me on my mission: a bronze globe that showed every type of sorcery,wizardry and overall magic in different colours, Raven's necklace included ; all it required to work was some magic channeled to it, and John could take care of that.
"Just a small warning for you: you may be powerful, and I know what you think about creatures like him, but Trigon has existed for several million years, and fought Zeus on even terms. I don't know if you can match that kind of power."
"I don't plan on fighting Trigon nor Hell, at least not until I prepare for it." I assured him. "I just want to help Rachel."
Raven's necklace color was obviously a mysterious, glowing jet black, the blobs that portrayed it small but bright.
Yes, blob s. Apparently Raven had been in several locations across the world. At least largest splotch of black was located in the American Northeast.
Specifically, it was located in a marsh mere miles away from Gotham. The discovery annoyed me, but it wasn't because I'd have to tell Bruce that Raven may or may have not been hiding in his city, or that I'll had to ask him for permission to get there and swear I wouldn't pay a visit to Arkham, as much as I wanted to, but because of the marsh itself.
It was called Slaughter Swamp.
Also known as the resting place of a Cyrus Gold, a criminal from the 19th century.
I don't think I have to tell you by what name he went nowadays… or the problem he'd end up posing to me.
Did I write Hephaestus right, especially when it came to his children? He's supposed to be the nicest Olympian both in the comics and in myth. Anyway, in the next chapter the SI will be forced to talk to Bruce, and let's just say he (Bruce) is not going to like it… nor the unavoidable confrontation with a certain local legend-turned-monster.
The Visit
In the Batcave, as Alfred cleaned the car above him and Dick patrolled around the city that evening, Bruce was rewatching a recording of Doom Slayer, specifically the one in which he fought a giant humanoid made of ink, tearing a man out of said creature nearly beating him to death.
A man who apparently was some kind of japanese peasant turned into a creature similar in nature to Clayface, if the tabloids were sincere, a man who used his powers to become a particularly stealthy blight on Kanto and then rise through the ranks of the NPA, so secretive about his real nature that he even managed to shake Superman's hands once.
Commander Uehara Daizo.
Bruce grunted. Men like Daizo were the reason he was so distrustful of anyone he didn't know on a personal level, and of the police in general, only worse given he wasn't just a crooked cop, but a literal ink monster.
Daizo, and Doom Slayer.
Thinking about the heavily armored super soldier made Bruce remember the new device he charged WayneTech to make for him, and bring up the concept to the screen, revealing what seemed to a heavily mechanized Batsuit with LED lights instead of eyeholes.
Lucius called it the 'Exoframe Batsuit'. Corny name, but then, so was Batman for many.
This was the most powerful battlesuit Lucius could make him with the hidden resources from Wayne Enterprises: jets on the bots to enable subsonic flight, exoskeleton strong enough to lift well over fifty tons, armor capable of withstanding up to the latest sabot rounds in the military, explosives that could crack the armor plating of the tank that shot those very same sabots, disorienting sonic cannons, and a miniaturized fission reactor to provide it with the power required. Overkill, of course, but fortunately he had yet to use it on anything alive.
The previous itineration had been much less armed: he had ordered it in case Clark went rogue again, to have something else aside from kryptonite to stop him but without having to resort to actually killing him, knowing that the most likely reason Clark might turn on Earth again would be yet another brainwashing.
And then Doom Slayer came, and then after showing how brutal he could be he killed the Red Trident terrorists, and Bruce realized that he'd need something more forceful to stop him in his tracks due to the (likely) possibility of him crossing the line. Ironically, the massacre he inflicted also left several rounds and shells around. Their recovery and re-use allowed his engineers to modify the exoframe to fit the new needs that arose.
Namely, withstand those very same rounds, if only enough to allow Bruce to get close and personal. Naturally it costed him a entire fortune of several million dollars to find metals strong enough to do it and a exoskeleton strong enough to move it, however, and all that mass meant he would be trapped if the reactor went out or the suit suffered a system failure.
All in all, though, it'd be worth it just to have something to stop Doom Slayer if he ended up going rogue… or, not as unlikely as it seemed, liking killing too much. For men like Slayer, one death was never enough… and he had already killed dozens. He didn't care if practically all of them deserved it, being either misanthropic terrorists or demon-possessed husks, or even if Doom Slayer regretted killing the latter.
Still, despite his brutality and willingness to use lethal force, it didn't mean he didn't respect him, if only a little: he was honest, resolute, more than willing to help other heroes in their tasks and, despite his feelings about the contrary, he had yet to actually cross the line between vigilantism and villainy (yet). Most importantly, though, was his willingness to admit he needed help from others.
Like that Rachel girl.
Remembering her, Bruce leaned on his seat and sighed as he closed his eyes in thought.
Private detectives, agencies, his own work, friends with contacts, satellites across the globe… Nothing worked, he couldn't find the gray-skinned sorceress; not even Zatanna could find her despite her efforts and magical prowess, though to be fair to the magician she had just found out she could cast actual magic. It was as if she had been swallowed by the earth itself (something that might have been entirely possible given the circumstances).
… and found himself staring at Doom Slayer's opaque visor, ten times larger due to being projected on the main screen. The only reason he didn't jump was that he forced himself to not do it, forcing his mind to remember that Slayer was not in front of him, but several million miles above him.
Didn't stop him from grabbing the emergency batarang he always had with himself and pull it out as a reflex. Clark had told him that Slayer could hijack any known form of communication, but he never expected him to do it to his comms. And something told him that he could do nothing against it.
He put the treacherous thought of Doom Slayer knowing everything about him to address him.
"Doom Slayer."
"Bruce." He said, apparently not caring of what just happened… or, more likely, what he had just seen. "It's been five weeks since we saw each other."
Bruce was fairly certain that he was the one supposed to say that. "Why are you calling me like this, Slayer?"
As always, Slayer's response was simple and straight to the point. "I must go to Gotham."
In an uncharacteristic lack of stoicism, Bruce's eyes widened in shock and horror. The mental image of Doom Slayer entering Arkham Asylum and killing every inmate before going on a rampage through the city formed on his head, but he managed to supress a shudder.
Doom Slayer noted his obvious unease. "No, I'm not planning on purging the asylum, if only as long as the… 'patients' stay there." Bruce could clearly hear sarcasm in his voice. "As a matter of fact, if all goes well, I won't even enter the city proper."
'And for your sake, you better not' Thought Bruce before speaking, making a mental note about reinforcing Arkham's security. "Then why did you call me?"
Slayer stood silent for a moment "To tell you about it. I'd prefer to say it in front of you, not through a screen. And call Robin and Batgirl. It's important. I'll be there in an hour."
The screen then turned off by itself, leaving Bruce alone in the cave with his thoughts. While he actually liked being asked to have permission to get in Gotham (especially from someone he really didn't want to see setting foot in), he was mostly concerned by the fact Slayer did so instead of simply waltzing in through a portal and doing whatever business he had in the city, and leaving before he even realized what happened.
Unless…
Bruce pulled out his phone and called for Alfred, his recent 'visit' having made him temporarily paranoid about just calling him with the communicator.
"Alfred, call Dick and Barbara and tell them to suit up. We'll be receiving a guest in an hour."
"Who, Master Bruce? Mister Kent? Maybe even Miss West?"
"Worse, Doom Slayer." Bruce replied. He swore he could hear the old butler's body stiffen at that. "Don't ask me what for, he only told me he wants to come here and see me face to face. Just inform them about it." Before he hanged it, he said one last thing. "And don't bring out the rifle; he might not even care it if you shoot him."
A groan of resignation came from the phone. "As you wish."
Half an hour later, Bruce, Dick and Barbara were sitting on the main platform of the Batcave in front of Slayer, who had come through one of his portals. Alfred was standing nearby, carefully inspecting the large armored man with a subtle interest. The youths, on the other hand, couldn't contain their unease at having him standing right in front of them, Barbara especially.
"So…" Began to say Dick, clearly wanting to break the ice. "Is living in Mars nice?"
Doom Slayer didn't move his head, but replied nonetheless. "Exactly Antarctica, but dry. desertic and with much less oxygen."
"Uh, nice to know." Dick replied, clearly feeling awkward by the situtation.
Barbara didn't say anything, busy as she was looking at Doom Slayer. Gordon would have thrown a massive fuss if he had known that Slayer was there with them.
Bruce decided that it was time to know what exactly did the soldier want.
"Now that we are face to face, why did you call me?"
Doom Slayer looked at him. "It's about Rachel."
Bruce rose an eyebrow at that. Did he and Constantine find the woman already, despite the fact he himself had asked for their help in the search? "Did you find her already?"
"Not exactly. I got help from a source, but…" Doom Slayer trailed off, confusing the four, before continuing. "Before I keep talking about Rachel, I think I should tell you about the other reason I wanted to see you."
"And that is?" Alfred asked, speaking for the first time since Slayer arrived.
Doom Slayer looked at Bruce. "Do you know about a Cyrus Gold?"
Hearing that name, Bruce felt his jaw stiffen. He had faced the man two years prior, three months after Joker's debut, as Blackgate suffered its second riot. Thing was, he was not original Cyrus, but rather, his mutated husk, one that could face brutes like Killer Croc and handily win.
Solomon Grundy.
An undead monster that apparently had been one of Ras's many, many victims involved in his experiments with Lazarus' Pits. What made him difference from the others that he didn't stay dead… nor human, all things given. After all, a Pit could resurrect a living creature, but whatever the Demon's Head did to the poor devil turned him into a fifteen-foot behemoth gifed with enough strength to throw a tank a mile away.
A fifteen-foot behemoth he had been forced to face a few weeks before Darkseid's invasion.
How had he been supposed to know that the zombie had made his way to Blackgate's underground?
The only reason he survived at all was that Grundy was still weak and confused from reanimating after several years of being 'dead', plus the fact he seemed to be susceptible to lightning. As for how he knew how powerful he was, Bruce had seen a recording of Grundy taking on an armored platoon, and then Superman. Clark won the brawl, but only because he was able to give his all in the fight, ending it by flying through the giant: it wasn't like Grundy could be considered alive.
"I have a lead on Rachel's location. Thing is, her magic signal is spread across the entire planet, with the largest being on Slaughter Swamp, and something tells me that either the Swamp, or Grundy himself may be the first step in finding her."
"Are you saying that the mighty Doom Slayer needs the help of Bats?" Dick said, voicing what everyone was thinking at the moment, before frowning. "Then again, this IS Grundy we're talking about, and we all know he can take on Supes… if only for a couple minutes."
But Slayer shook his head. "Not really, I only came to you so that Bruce would know about my intentions beforehand and therefore not overreact. It would be nice to have you with me though, in case anything goes wrong and I require your help."
"Heard that Bruce? Doom Slayer MAY need our help." Bruce didn't know if his protegee was being sarcastic due to the possibility a superstrong, resourceful and determined man may end up needind their assistance, boastful BECAUSE of said fact, or a combination of the two.
"Still, you gonna kick Grundy's ass? He's a zombie, he's already dead, you know, if you get what I mean." Barbara pointed out.
"Actually" Doom Slayer said. ", I have plans for Grundy."
So, Batman is already preparing countermeasures for Doom Slayer, the man himself finally visits Bruce's home, if briefly, and wants the Batfamily to go with him to deal with Grundy… or will he? Did I write the characters as they should? The chapter is a bit shorter because I thought it was already long enough for the kind of chapter it was. If you're wondering where's John, he's doing business back at Liverpool: the SI thinks he doesn't need his help for this particular task, since Grundy lacks weaknesses to exploit. And, as alrady stated, he has plans for the big lug.
Finally, from now on further chapters will be posted on fridays, partly because I want more time to spend writing my legit book, mostly because I think I might start writing longer chapters.
Solomon Grundy
"Remind me again, why did you bring those hulks here, exactly?" Dick asked me as I placed the last of the devices I had VEGA make for the mission, essentially Tesla coils the size of a van, on a square formation, as Bruce made sure his wasn't budging. The lad had nothing better to do at that moment, to be fair to him.
"To capture Solomon Grundy in case he proves to be unreasonable."
"If with unreasonable you mean 'mouth covered in foam and roaring mindlessly'…" Barbara noted as she stood with her arms over her chest.
Two nights after visiting the manor and telling everyone about the plan and preparing for it, we went to Slaughter Swamp, ready to engage Solomon Grundy and see if he was guarding something related to Rachel… but not to kill him, not if I could avoid it. You'll see my reasons below.
"Again, why can't you just beat the hell out of him and be done with it?" He continued as I activated the device, all four machines emitting a whine as they sparked and came online. "What if instead of, say, going straight at you he goes on a rampage across-"
Bruce, who was holding a talisman made by Zatanna that would warn us of any undead creature, chose that moment to shut him up. "Dick, stop it, we already know the risks."
Robin raised his arms in a defeated pose. "Alright, alright, I just wanted to remember the plan outloud and point out possible flaws, nothing more. I got that from you, remember? You made sure to ingrain it in my head."
Bruce grunted before turning to look at me. "Still, he's got a point. Grundy might be more than you could handle, Clark might not get here in time to assist, and I'm still not sure about if these incapacitators can affect the livind dead."
In truth he wasn't, and while we'd end up finding out he would be quite close to the idea, at that moment none of us knew that. "I know, which is why I brought these, remember?"
Bruce didn't reply directly, instead deciding to pace around with talisman in hand to try to discern Grundy's presence. Nonetheless, I heard a grunt coming from him.
Barbara walked up to me and sighed as she watched her mentor scout the area for Grundy. "Forgive him, he's simply not used to this, what with basically being ordered to do stuff by someone else instead of the other way around."
"I'm not ordering you anything, I'm just making you follow instructions."
"Yeah, we know but you're a giant super soldier from the future bigger than Bane hopped up on Venom, not an english butler in his fifties." Dick chimed in with a smirk. "A balding english butler."
"Master Dick, do you realize I can hear you perfectly from here?" Came Alfred's voice through his communicator. As always, Alfred was the trio's mission control, and naturally he wasn't amused by their statements, but you couldn't heard that from his voice. Robin began spewing apologies to the butler as Barbara laughed at his lapse of memory, while I looked around without moving, waiting for the giant undead to come to us. He was supposedly a very territorial creature if the sightings and engagements were anything to go by,
As for why I wanted to capture Grundy instead of simply blowing him apart, aside from several reasons involving collateral damage, it was simple.
He was strong, tough, fast despite his size, could heal any damage done to him, and overall was amongst the most powerful beings on Earth, myself included… but despite this, he wasn't actually evil, or at least the current Grundy wasn't evil in the sense that he enjoyed causing pain and wanted to inflict more: he was just very territorial and had difficulty understanding certain things in depth, things like collateral damage, due to a combination of inhuman experiments from Ra's part and Lazarus Pit magic messing with his brain.
That, and something else, something that made him far, far more mystical than a mere reanimated, bloated corpse.
In other words, this Solomon Grundy, just like some other itinerations of him, had the capacity of becoming less of a giant shambling corpse and more a force of nature, and sooner or later he would end up reaching that potential.
I wanted to make sure he did, but on the right path… and not stop with just him.
Pretty sure you already know what I'm getting at.
I wanted to make those villains capable of abandoning their ways to not merely reform, but actually turn into heroes… and in this particular Earth, there were actually many of those, even if some didn't really mind being assholes; for thos,e the fame, the feeling of accomplishment, or simply not ending up in jail might be enough to change their minds about their careers. They would also have many ways to do it, from rescuing people from burning buildings and similar, to even just turning their wickedness to those people worse than them, just like I was doing, public opinion notwitstanding. The rest, though, I would help personally to abandon their drudges they carried against the world.
I don't think I have to explain to you what I helped them in.
Again, as for why Grundy in particular despite being other, more agreeable (and to be fair to the lug, intelligent) like Mr. Freeze or Bronze Tiger, it was for several reasons, chief among not wanting to leave him unchecked when he eventually became too strong. Plus, I was sure his strength might come in handy in the future.
And it did.
First, though, I had to help Raven, and for that I needed to take Grundy, and if I couldn't to it the easy way, I'll had to do it the hard way: electrocute him enough energy to power up Gotham and see if that would take him out, because the alternative would be beating the hell out of him and hope he could recover from that.
If not for the fact that the first statement about the coils ended up being reduntant. You'll see why further below.
Backtracking a little to the idea of turning villains into heroes and starting with Grundy, Bruce (to whom I hadn't told the full extent of my plan) was understandably not happy with that plan, not just because he still wasn't sure I could contain Grundy despite what he knew (a case of simple paranoia), but also because Grundy had already proven to be willing to kill. Besides, I actually wanted to know just how strong he was.
"If he decides to go the usual route, I'll make sure he won't get far. If all goes well, though, it might not come to that."
Bruce, however, was still not sure. "'Might'." Nonetheless, he still helped me.
And then, several minutes after arriving at the marsh, and before any of us could say anything, we finally heard it.
Not a guttural roar, not the beginning ot a nursery rhyme, not the ground rumbling… but the whines of Zatanna's talisman as it shined with a bright blue light, just like Sting warning either Bilbo or Frodo of the presence of orcs near by.
Or, more appropiately given the circumstances, barrow-wights.
"Get ready." Bruce whispered as he put the device in his belt. "He's here."
"Solomon Grundy…" We heard a deep, guttural voice of a man (we already knew who it was) say, said voice coming from somewhere close to us; however, we could not see where exactly did it come from, except maybe 'everywhere' around us.
Yes, Grundy wasn't your average ghoul, and we were in his territoriy.
A few seconds later, the ground of the swamp around us began to shake.
"Born on a Monday…"
Then, in a spot at least a hundred feet in front of us among the trees of the swamp proper, the water bubbled, and the floor below it raised as it was pushed upwards by a human-shaped figure the size of a small tank.
Just like a baron of Hell. Only, as I later found out, exponentially stronger.
"Aw, crap." Dick groaned as he took in the sheer size of Grundy. Frankly, given that the target of our search had just dug himself out of the marshy ground right in front of us, I couldn't blame him. "He's been there the whole damn time!"
There he stood, twice my height and nearly thrice as wide, Solomon Grundy himself, wearing little more than black tatters covering pale skin, patche of which were lacking and allowed us to see muscle, bone and even the maggots that infested his body (worms the size of my fists that made the youths behind me groan in disgust), although strangely enoug no blood poured from the wounds. He had on his face a toothy snarl showing his crooked, yellowed teeth, a snarl aimed right at us.
Or rather, right at me.
Didn't help that he practically radiated magic, to the point I actually felt it.
"Slayer." I heard VEGA say. "Scanning indicates that the incapacitators won't be enough to stop Solomon Grundy. You'll have to subdue him in hand to hand if you don't want to destroy him."
Figures that something would end up happening and throwing my carefully made plan to the crapper, but never expected it to be that.
"VEGA, prepare a portal to Cydonia." I ordered him before turning to Batman and the rest. Stay back, and turn the fence on if I tell you." I warned them before turning back to Grundy. "Grundy, I want to talk to you."
But Grundy didn't respond, instead walking towards us, his steps making nearby trees shake. "Christened on Tuesday…"
"I don' think he wants to talk…" Barbara said as Grundy began to make his way to us, slowly but surely, every step of his sending the water splashing up.
Bruce took a fighting stance as he muttered about trying to talk to mindless monsters, but I put a hand on his chest. "I expected this to happen. Leave him to me and stay here."
Bruce gave me a confused look before looking back at Grundy, who had closed the distance further still.
"Married on WEDNESDAY!" He didn't even finish the poem that gave him his name before roaring at the top of his lungs and charging at me, a fist the size of my torso raised. From the corner of my HUD I saw Bruce pulling out a batarang, and Barbara and Dick taking fighting stances, despite them knowing they had no chance against the colossus.
"Slayer,it may appear that you'll have to resort to violence." VEGA said. "I'll prepare a portal in any case."
I gave a deep sigh as Grundy ran at me. Hard way it was then.
Not that I actually minded.
"I'll try to keep the fight in Cydonia. Warn the others."
Not bothering to reply to the group's combined 'what', I ran at Grundy at full speed, not to meet his fist on with mine but to slam his torso to try and force him to the ground.
One second later, our bodies collided before the force of my slam send us both into the portal VEGA opened at the last second, a portal that led to the dune of Cydonia, a hundred miles from the Fortress. And no, this time there were no wandering rovers near by if some of you are wondering that, though the shockwave of our clash did cause a sandstorm of epic proportions, one that would have laste for an entire had we stopped fighting.
Let's get back to the fight proper.
The strongest opponents I had faced until that moment had been quite strong indeed, one enough to give trouble to Clark even though he held back, and the other turned himself into a giant.
Grundy, though? He made them look like mere chimpanzees compared to a gorilla… or more fittingly, a gigantopithecus, given the sheer size difference.
An angry, undead gigantopithecus.
For several days, Grundy and I fought without abandon, making the sand around us fly with each strike we inflicted upon each other, but soon it became obvious to me that we were at a stalemate: I had no way to truly subdue him without killing him as long as he kept struggling, even with the application of pankration; conversely, despite hitting much harder than either Brushogun or King Shark had done, possessing unlimited stamina, and feeling no pain, Grundy was still not strong enough to actually harm me in any meaningful way.
Didn't mean his punches didn't hurt like Hell, only that they didn't do anything more than that.
On the second day, John, after finishing his job in Brazil and meeting with Bruce, finally caught up to what was happening.
"Slayer, Constantine has been trying to communicate with you for the last thirty hours." VEGA reported as I pried Grundy off of me.
I pushed the giant away before replying. "Patch him through."
VEGA did so, and soon I saw John's unshaved face on the HUD glaring at me. "Slayer, what the fuck is happening out there?! I'm gone for a week, and first thing I know is that you're going berserk on Solomon fucking Grundy!" He then whispered: "I know you can take him on, but still, have to keep up appearances."
"The situation is under control, John." I replied as Grundy jumped back at me roaring. "And I hope the kryptonians can't hear you."
"Magic, and even then they're not here." He then began shouting again. "Situation is under… Your brawl caused a fucking sandstorm the size of Ireland, the Super Friends are asking me what is happening, and the mutts are scared shitless, which makes sense given that a zombie the size of a lorry might crash on their base, but still! The fuck did you just do?!" He screamed at me.
"Tried to talk to Solomon Grundy, failed, now I'm trying to subdue him by beating the shit out of him."
"I already knew that! I want to know why did you bring the giant revenant to Mars of all the places in the solar system!"
"He's strong enough to actually pose a challenge to me when not puttwing all my effort, and Mars is the only one with an actual surface. Besides, what do you think would have happened to Gotham, maybe even the Eastern Coast, if we stayed there?" I told him. "Besides, it was VEGA's idea to bring him here. Call me later."
With that I cut off the transmision just as he shouted. So, we kept fighting, changing Cydonia's landscape as we did so, neither of us willing to stop the fight.
After a week of us going at it like elephants on musth, I decided to try and talk him down. Uppercutting him just as he was about to slam a boulder the size of the Empire State on me, I once more forced him to the ground and grabbed his arms behind him, only this time applying more strength, even though I still didn't know how much he could resist and didn't want to rip his arms off.
"Grundy, stop. I just want to talk!" I ordered him, but he refused to listen.
"Green man hurt Grundy, take Grundy from home!" He roared at me.
"Calm down and then maybe I might take you back! But first, I need to talk to you!"
"No, you want to hurt Grundy more!"
"I wouldn't have hurt you if you hadn't attacked us! If anything, you're the one who wants to hurt me!"
At first Grundy kept struggling against my hold, but eventually he stopped after realizing he couldn't pry me off of him. Seeing that he had stopped fighting, I got off of him to let him stand up, making sure to step back several meters to give him space and not make him feel threatened.
Had I looked up, I could have seen that the dustorm that had raised because of our fight was slowly dying out… and a red blur running around the crater's edge.
"Are you calm now?" I asked him. After a few seconds of silence, he nodded slowly. "I just want to talk." I repeated again, more quietly this time.
"About what?"
And then, before I could speak further, a red and blue blur came out of nowhere and slammed into Grundy at supersonic speed, pushing him out of the crater.
After gaping up for amoment, I ran up the slope to see what the hell was going on before someone stopped me just as I reached the edge.It was Wally West, standing proudly in front of me and wearing a combination of his usual hero garment and SCUBA equipment.
"It looked like you needed some help, big guy." He said with a grin as he looked up at me. "I even cleared that storm for you, no need to thank me."
I looked behind him and saw the others fighting Grundy, all of them minus Steel and John wearing similar spacesuits (the former didn't for obvious reasons, while the latter had applied an atmosphere spell on himself; turned out he didn't know how to cast magic in a enclosed suit without the spell tearing it open). Grundy, though weakened after an entire week of constant fighting and being bombarded from all sides, refused to give up, and in fact began to fight harder. Still, it was obvious he was losing.
The moment John saw me he broke off the fight and rushed towards us.
"I brought the cavalry." He said has he reached us. "Before you say you didn't need it, it's your own damn fault for leaving me hanging while going up against zombie Gogmagog."
"We came here as soon as John took us-" The speedster began to say before I cut him off.
"While I appreciate your help, your assistance was not needed; in fact, Grundy seemed to be willing to talk with me before Superman rammed him at mach 2."
Wally looked at me with wide eye before groaning as he realized the mistake they (Superman attacked first, but the others followed his example) just commited. "Oh, damn."
I shook my head. "No one's fault but mine. I should have informed you about the change of plans." Before they could say anything, I charged at the battle. Had to stop it before anyone got hurt, or Grundy decided to refuse to listen at all.
Grundy was just about to crash Irons against Clark before I leaped at him for the millionth time that week and, again, forced him to the ground. The group prepared to attack, but John stopped them.
"Grundy, stop!"
Grundy struggled and snarled, trying to rip my arms off to free himself. "NO!"
I growled. "Just stop fighting and let me explain, dammit!"
After several seconds passed, Grundy, to the amazement of the group, stopped struggling against my hold. He still glared at me when I let him stand again, though.
"Now Grundy knows why green man here!" He snarled at me, huge rotting index pointed at my helmet. "Green man wants to hurt nice lady!"
The story of how Arella managed to befriend, then entrust Grundy was an amazing tale, but one that would be better heard in peace and inside walls, with everyone calm and not jumpy.
"Grundy, did this 'nice lady' wear a white robe by any chance?"
"Grundy says no more!"
I sighed at his stubborness, but to be fair to him he had good reasons. "Grundy, it might not look like it, but I actually to help the nice lady's daughter."
"Green man lies to Grundy!" He shouted at me in an accusatory tone, yet despite his anger he didn't attack. "Green man's friends hurt Grundy!"
"My friends thought you were hurting me. Right, friends." I asked the heroes, and they nodded or said 'yes'. "That's what friends do for other friends, no? Just forgive them, they didn't know."
Grundy grunted, but otherwise did nothing.
"I want to help the nice lady's daughter, Grundy. She's in danger, and our first step to help her is you. "
"Literally in his case. "John chided in. "The big dobber has something inside him."
Grundy looked at me, then at the group around us, before looking back at me and nodding slowly.
"Grundy talks about nice lady in green man's house."
If the fight seems underwhelming and poorly described to you, and the latter half of the chapter rushed, it's for a very good reason: LAG pissing me off.
Last edited: Nov 20, 2021
Born on a Monday
So, after managing to convince Grundy to come with us, I opened a portal directly to the Fortress' main hall, which at that moment was currently occupied by two scared yokai, Akane and her boyfriend Tamashiro, having moved there several days after I began fighting Grundy, wondering what was happening and if the Earth-bound heroes were helping me.
Imagine the couple's faces when they saw a portal opening and expecting me and the others to come out tired and winded but otherwise victorious afte dealing with the giant zombie… only to see said giant zombie stomp inside.
"Oh my god!" I heard Akane scream as I came in after Grundy.
Grundy, already used to being screamed at, ignored them and gave a look around, confused, or maybe fascinated, by the fact that there was an actual medieval castle in Mars.
"Castle."
He'd also need to improve on his vocabulary, but that was for later, much, much later.
"The Fortress of Doom is closer to a keep than a fullfledged castle." VEGA said as the others came in from behind us. The suddenness of the AIs 'appearance' startled Grundy, who looked around frantically "The building lacks everything that could make it an actual castle, a moat and separate walls among other things."
"Haunted castle!" Grundy shouted as he pointed up.
Something, I don't know what (maybe stop John from snarking at Grundy) compelled me to correct him. "Artificial intelligence, actually." At the confused stare he gave me, I decided to 'clarify'. "He's a robot butler basically."
"Robot butler…" He muttered before shrugging. "Better robot than ghost."
John grunted as he took off his helmet "You and me both, damn ghosts can't decide if they want to move on or stay and dick around until Judgement Day, or at least those from London." And then turned around to glare at both Flash and Robin, who had somehow opened their mouths at the same time. "And don't think of quipping about the film that stars Billy Murray and starts with G, you gobbies! Hell, don't even think about the film! I'll make your teeth melt and then fuse if you do!"
Dick was naturally disturbed by John's sudden bout of anger. "Man, you're angrier than the last time we met… and that was five hours ago."
"That's because I haven't had a smoke in three days, kid, worried as I was for DS." John replied as he took out a cig. I'd been touched by his concern if not for the fact he nearly ruined my chance with Grundy. "That, and I hate Billy Murray, don't ask me why. And yes, I know it's just Bill."
Dick raised his hands in submission, not wanting to find out of the brit could do that, which he could.
"Greetings Mr. Gold." VEGA continued, non-plused about the situation. "I am VEGA, the AI in charge of this installation."
The mention of his previous' life surname confused Grundy, headscratching and everything. "Gold? Man of gold?"
"He doesn't know his real name?" Kara asked, eyebrow raised in confusion.
"Apparently Grundy doesn't remember his living memories as Cyrus." Bruce replied, watching carefully as Grundy looked around, taking the room in. "As far as he cares, he's always been Solomon Grundy."
Given this was Bruce we're talking about, no one bothered to ask just how exactly did he know that, despite meeting Grundy in person just once.
Akane, after at least a minute of trying to get my attention and failing, stomped towards me and tried to pull at my arm. "Slayer, why the hell did you bring that thing here?!" She screamed, both terrified and angry about having being ignored for however long (barely a minute since I stepped out of the portal, but fear slows times down).
"He's part of a future mission, and besides, neither of you were in any danger."
"'In no danger'?" She parroted as she glared at me before gesturing at Grundy. "A-are you blind or something?"
"The Fortress was designed to resist the assault of hordes of powerful, technologically advanced interdimensional monsters. A giant zombie is practically nothing." I reminded her. "Besides, he promised to behave as long as we don't anger him, and I don't plan on letting John piss him off by being John with."
"I heard that" John grunted. ", and besides I have to be me if you want me to do what you asked me." Basically what he did with Daizo, but with someone both willing of having his mind entered and awake.
As for why did I want to enter his mind, it wasn't like we had other options: Grundy simply wasn't articulate enough to explain what he knew to us, a scan of his hippocampus would be completely useless due to his undead status (his brain was entirely dead tissue, and even my technology has its limits), and I wanted to see his past in person to get every last piece of information, not just of Arella but also Grundy himself.
"Good." I replied, earning a snort from him.
Tamashiro was convinced by my words (that, and because he felt that, because they were for all intents and purposes my guests, they had no say in what I could do as long as it didn't endanger them), but Akane wasn't so sure. "I just don't want a repeat of Daizo. I know, I know, it's not really that similar, but see it from my point of view: you bring a giant zombie here and say he's friendly and, well, connect the dots."
Clark, being himself, didn't waste time in walking upt to her "Relax Akane, Solomon Grundy is friendly as long as we are friendly." He reassured her. "Besides, you have nine people more than capable of handling him."
"Still, he's still fifteen feet tall of rotting, Superman-taking flesh." She morosely pointed out. "I think you can allow me to be wary, especially if he ends up staying here."
I sighed."Akane, you two live outside the Fortress. He won't be bothering you, and the times you come in he'll probably be somewhere else in the fortress."
Wally chose that moment to speak with the geologist couple, both to bring their minds away from Grundy and because he wanted to ask them about their stay in Mars. "Hey, speaking of Mars, you guys found anything interesting around her? I mean, sure, NASA and LexCorp have their rovers, but you're actually here. Might have discovered something they haven't."
Tamashiro grinned. "Well, it turns out that there ARE canals in the planet, though they're are all products of time, no ruins from a previous martian civilzation."
Again. John snorted. "Too bad, I wouldn't have minded a cylinder crashing into Woking and tripods coming out of it to hunt down the survivors."
Understandably, Wally (and everyone else sans me and Grundy, for that matter) was put off by John's response. "Dude, you need some anger management before you turn someone into a rabbit."
"I hate a lot of things, mate, a bloody lot of things."
So, I spoke with the earthbound heroes, thanked them for their assistance, and brought them back to Earth; I'd tell them of what I got from Grundy's mind.
Before they all left, however, Clark decided to, naturally, apologizee to Grundy for attacking him before, his action made more poignant because the others didn't.
"I'm sorry for ripping a hole in your chest a year ago, and nearly doing the same before. I thought you were some mindless super zombie. No hard feelings?" Clark said as he stretched his hand at the behemoth. It was just him being the nice guy he was, even though he also knew that Grundy had in fact killed people, though at the same time he also believed he could be redeemed with my help.
Grundy stared at the man's hand, and then at him, before grabbing it and shaking it. "Okay." Had Clark been any weaker the action would had either crushed his hand, ripped his arm, or much more likely both, and even then I could see him cringe because of the pain (he just wasn't used to be the weaker one, and so this was a new experience to him), but otherwise nothing bad happened.
So, Clark left, the yokai went back to their survey of the area, and me and John prepared to enter Grundy's mind.
"Okay Gogmagog, don't move while we're inside you, understood? Don't want to end up giving you an aneurysm." John said as Grundy laid himself in the Ripatorium's Bridge.
"M.r Grundy is-" VEGA began to say before John stopped him.
"I know, I know, his physical brain's deader than Guy Fawkes, I even said that myself, but still, one's gotta be careful. Daizo was half dead and unconscious, but Grundy ain't." John replied as he began preparing the ritual. "Well, he's dead dead, but you get the gist."
Grundy didn't pay him mind, busy as he was looking around the dungeon without moving his head. "Grundy likes place, dark and damp like swamp."
"It'll be your 'room' from now on, but first we see how can we help the nice lady, alright?"
Grundy nodded and closed his eyes. Then, John finally finished the preparations and casted the spell, bringing us inside Grundy's memories.
And so we saw firsthand the story of how Solomon Grundy began to be, and how did he end up meeting Arella and befriending her.
Cyrus Gold was born in a nameless hamlet in the middle of New Jersey in 1862. The beginning of his life, as in many cases, was simple and without much excitement… compared to most people in the era: he travelled down to Texas to find work in 1887, becoming a cowboy in the process, hunting down outlaws, driving herds of bighorn cattle across planes, and other typical western exploits that made him somewhat famous, if nothing to the level of Jonah Hex, whom he had actually met in person before disappearing off the face of the Earth.
"Uh, the revenant was both John and Clint mixed with Arnie. Who'd have known."
And yes, I ended up meeting Jonah Hex, but that's for later, much, much later.
And then one rainy night of autumn of 1892, as he returned to his native Gotham, a man assaulted him for a reason I won't elaborate upon and got shot for his troubles. It wouldn't have been something unusual if not for the man's identity: Marcus Wayne, Thomas Wayne uncle and Gotham's most famous architect. Even by their standards the killing was self-defense, and the courts acknoweldged it but neither the Wayne family nor the public cared. The only reasons Cyrus managed to get out of there were his shooting skills, and a saddled horse standing nearby. Now he was a wanted man, with the only thing waiting for him being either prison, the gallows, or a furious mob of Wayne supporters.
"Uh, so he killed Batsies' great great uncle. That might explain a lot."
And then, after several hours of spurring his horse to reach the south faster, he was finally caught, not by either the law or a lynch mob, but a small group led by a man with a soulpatch beard, wearing a green cape over his shoulders, and an interested look on his cold, green eyes.
Ra's al Ghul.
And he had just found the perfect test subject for the newlyfound Lazarus Pit his workers had recently dug out, a disposable fugitive in the prime of his life.
It didn't surprise me, Ra's was more than willing to wipe out nearly all of humanity just to lord over the survivors (or 'chosen', as he'd call them), but it sickened me nonetheless, seeing him torture Cyrus to the brink of death death and then dump his catatonic body in a pit full to the brim with green, glowing liquid, over and over again, until the poor man's mind utterly broke. Then, after Cyrus had outlived his usefulness, Ra's impaled him with a scimitar nearly as long as he was, and dumped the corpse in a nearby swamp and left for his home in the East.
What Ra's didn't know, though, was that the repeated experiments and castings into the Pit had turned Cyrus into a living dead, but because the Slaughter Swamp of this continuity lacked any kind of supernatural traits he didn't become stronger, or at least only strong enough to free the upper half of his head, leaving the reanimated cowboy to writhe and struggle to get out of the mud. He was no longer Cyrus Gold, but he had yet to be Solomon Grundy.
And he stayed like that, under the waters of the swamp, for over half a century. He was already insane, but this just made it worse.
"Bloody hell." John said, voicing both our thoughts.
And then the void we were in began to shake, and we heard a roar thundering everywhere. Grundy had to be real pissed if we could feel him moving from inside his memories (later we found out that, despite VEGA's best efforts, he managed to break the Ripatorium's bridge in his rage).
It was then when VEGA called us. "Slayer, Constantine, it seems that Mr. Solomon has entered a berserk state, and has begun to rampage in the Ripatorium."
It was obvious why. I turned to look at John. "I thought Grundy didn't remember his life as Cyrus?"
"Well, maybe our meddling with his brain has changed that." John replied. "And this may make me Captain Obvious, but it seems that the dobber developed hatred the moment he realized why exactly is he like this." We heard another roar, and this time it was louder. "Better keep going before he kicks us out."
And then, on the following memory of Grundy's life, we saw her, and suddenly Grundy calmed down. VEGA didn't even bother to inform us of that as we casted our eyes on the white-robbed woman entering the swamp, not frightened by the sudden growls that the mad zombie made when he saw a living being entering his line of sight.
Arella Roth, carrying on her arms a small bundle as he trudged through the swamp towards the spot the zombie was buried on. Said bundle turned out to be a gray-skinned baby, little more than a newborn given her size and her still blue eyes (her adult self were purple).
It soon became obvious that Arrella's arrival to the marsh was not coincidence, even though she had to know the danger both her and her baby were in (the creature couldn't free itself, but still, one had to be sure).
When Arella finally reached the half-buried head of the undead Cyrus, she crouched in front of him, put her free hand on his head, and began chanting in an unknown, ancient language.
Slowly, the undead's growls faded, and his shaking ceased until he stopped struggling altogether, calmed down by a combination of magic settling his anger and and Arella's soothing voice. Seeing him calm down, Arella began chanting once more, only this time her magic had a more dramatic effect: a strange object appeared on her hand, some kind of metal piece. It may have been a simple bauble if not for the fact it glowed grreen… and that it made every plant arorund them to glow green too
"So, that's why he's so strong AND reeks of power." John said outloud. "She linked him with the Green."
The Green. The elemental force which connects all plant life on Earth, though in the creatures' case his potential had yet to reach its full extent, even nowadays. This spoke volumes of just how powerful Arella's magic was, even compared to John's.
And of the sheer might that Trigon possesed, if she couldn't face him herself.
It also meant that Swamp Thing, just like Martian Manhunter and his people, didn't exist here, the keyword being 'here'. Again, this is for much, much later.
"Any idea of why?"
He shrugged. "No, gotta see more first, at least get an idea."
The normal-sized, previously mindless undead bursted out of his prison as his body began growing, and widening, and becoming morer muscular until he became the giant of modern times, a giant that bellowed at the top of his lungs as he felt the air in his arms, and tasted his freedom for the first time in fifty years.
He promptly stopped roaring when he heard Rachel's cry of fear, and even comically raising his left hand to his mouth. She kept quiet with the growling and the growth, an incredible feat for a baby, but the roar was just too much. Fortunately, Arella knew the perfect nursery rhyme to shush the child.
Naturally in this kind of situation, it was the nursery rhyme that game Solomon Grundy his current name. Again naturally, it was a monday; Arella must have thought it was appropiate that the revenant took his name from the song. Then, afterr Rachel fell asleep once more, Arella began talking to Grundy, to explain whad did he do to him, and why.
Arella had linked him to the Green, as he had done before in other parts of the world with other elemental forces, not to hide Rachel's own magical signature as one might think due to Hephaestus' necklace, but to powerr a group of beings that could protect not just Rachel, but also the entire world in the not-so unlikely case Trigon got tired of sending his slaves and decided to invade Earth.
At the same time, the power of each would be enough to outright bypass Rachel's necklace barrierr and show it and its wearer's location (even an Olympian's might couldn't fully match nature, at least individually), something that she knew… and was the reason she linked the corpse of Cyrus with the Green: she had head of his exploits in life, something made her think he'd fit best with the Green, and the Green itself was the strongest of the Realms. Had Grundy been at his full, untapped potential, Clark would have died for sure.
Arella told this to Grundy, who understood little but enough to realize that he had to help her, and then left to parts unknow, never to be seen again.
And so began the new life of Cyrus Gold, reborn on a monday as Solomon Grundy, waiting until the day he met Arella again, keeping his promise to herr and guarding over his home as he did so, never forgetting her nor her daughter.
And then one chilly day of 1998, a mechanized infantry platoon invaded his home in search of him, from whose's behalf, we didn't know… and they found him and promptly shot at him, pissing him off. The rest, as the saying goes, is history.
"Oh, fuck, this is going to be one of those quest thingies, won't it?" John bemoaned, mostly because he knew neither me, his conscience nor his desire to fuck Hell up a bit would let him sit this one out. Didn't mean he didn't complain about it. "I have a life and a job to do, you know!"
"Did you forget about the portals?"
"No, but being able to go from Mars to York in three seconds still doesn't make it anything other than a trog. Okay, a very short trog."
So, after several months, I finally had a true mission: find the other avatars, gather them, and then find Rachel.
So, the plot about Raven's search thickened, and turns out Grundy is even more important than previously thought. That said, is the addition/inclusion of the Elemental Realms well written in the way I did? Forr those who might wonder how can Grundy keep his strrrength outside of Earth, the piece that Arella gave him stores Green energy besides linking Grundy with the force, allowing him to, at the very least, exist.
Last edited: Nov 27, 2021
Aftermath and BB
I had my mission: find the other avatars (because what else could they be called, given what they were), use the powers they were imbued with to break Hephaestus' enchantment, and find out Raven's location.
First, however, I have to backtrack, because it turned out that taking Grudy to Mars had consequences on Earth that seemed minor at first, but ended up becoming a headache in the long run, and not jut for me.
Naturally, many people back on Earth had seen the dustorm on Mars, and in turn many of them were either knowledgeable or savvy enough to realize it was not a natural occurrence (kind of obvious by now, I know, but I think it's still important to point it out) given its suddenness.
Their reactions to me essentially taking Grundy under my wing were mixed, to say the least, at least before I told my reasons for it: some thought I was merely making sure a superstrong zombie stopped posing a problem to Earth, others that I was the reason Grundy existed at all despite his sightings predating my arrival and accusing me of several things you don't need to know, and many more.
Things got even more hectic when I revealed them why I did that (seeing potential of good in Grundy), creating yet another uproar about me on the news.
Their reactions, again, were mixed people realized that I didn't kill Solomon Grundy as they thought I would, given his sordid past. Many accused me of playing favourites, killing petty criminals but not a monster, despite knowing exactly what kind of criminals I had killed. Others, though, were ecstasic, again for several reasons: some thought I was trying to redeem Grundy, others that he had always been a good guy and that everything he did had been because of misunderstandings and lack of comprehension from their part, with Foster leading them.
"This only proves that Doom Slayer can, as I already told you several times before doctor Wolper, tell apart the misunderstood in need of guidance from those who, simply put, should have been put six feet under several years ago!"
Given what he thought of the 'patients' of a certain asylum (he was compared to Cato the Elder; those of you who know roman history might get the similarity), it was obvious to everyone what he was talking about, and what he hoped I would do. So did Bruce, but that's for later.
It didn't help that the men Grundy had killed had in fact been an strike force sent by A.R.G.U.S, the pre-Cadmus branch of the government devoted to deal with superhuman threats, to capture him for their own use, despite barely knowing little much of him. And they knew that I knew, since Waller didn't want to just decry my taking in of Grundy because she didn't want me to reveal her personal army's little secret. Smart of her.
Now, if only had I actually made VEGA hack into A.R.G.U.S accounts to discover every plan, scheme and project they had from the beginning…
Now, back to Grundy himself.
He took living in the Fortress quite well, although he naturally had some difficulties moving around the place given that, while the main halls' ceilings were high enough for him to stand, the many hallways were another matter entirely, forcing him to crouch to get across. Overall, though, he liked it, especially the Ripatorium: quiet (unless John was in there of course), damp, dark, and big enogh he could actually rund around (although he still preferred his swamp).
Or slam a boulder against the floor in a fit of rage remembering the face of his killer.
He wanted something more than making true of his promise, though: after remembering his previous life, he wanted to get even with Ra's al Ghul. He remembered what he had done to him, the unspeakable experiments he and his cronies did on his body and mind, and the simple fact he was his killer. I promised him that Ra's would be his, but only after finding Raven.
Speaking of Ra's, he didn't seem to make the connection between the cowboy he had killed over a century prior and Solomon Grundy, or if he did, he shrugged it of, preferring to focus on the fact I had again proven, in his own words, that I could make the perfect Ubu for the Detective. The poor fool still believed that Bruce would become his successor, or that I would be remotely interested in his petty delusion of pseudo-godhood by culling humanity for the 'good' of the planet.
He'd end up changing his tune several months later. I'm not going to repeat myself this time.
If you're wondering why didn't do anything about either A.R.G.U.S or the League of Assassins, it's a simple reason, really: I didn't want the public at large to realize that I could find out every last secret they had if I decided to do so. Trust was my ally, people lose it easily, and I didn't want Earth to lose their trust in me. Yes, I could have gone the underhanded way, but it didn't occur to me at the time.
Let's go back to Grundy once more. My response didn't exactly satisfy him, but despite his relative lack of intelligence he knew he wouldn't get more from me so he accepted it. He had yet to show something resembling control over plant life, but that was because his full powers were 'sealed', for lack of a better term: I didn't want him to get to that point before having an understanding of what he could do. Still, I asked John to probe his body to see if there was something.
That done, I went to find the people Arella had turned into avatars of the Elements.
Despite John's fears and his nagging about it, there was no 'quest' to speak of in the end, mainly because I just could pop in anywhere on Earth via portal (and because he didn't actually come with me).
First, I would go for the Red, which ended up being easy. The finding, I mean, not what happened after.
Despite the nature of their powers, Vixen was still a fashion model in the Eastern Coast despite already having her powers, and B'wana Beast still worked in Brooklyn as Michael Payson, and had yet to show signs to control or combine animals, so that only left one possible host for the Red: Garfield Logan, aka Beast Boy, member of both the Doom Patrol and the Teen Titans, neither of which existed here (Plastic Girl did, but not the other two, as I later found out). The time discrepancy did make me think, but at that moment I was too focused on the mission to care.
I searched and found out about Michael and Lara Logan, an anthropologist and zoologist respectively that had journeyed to the Congo four years prior to help in the research of a local gorilla tribe and the effects that poaching had on both the apes and the local native tribes of the area, until one day they just vanished. They weren't highly known either, so not many people cared about their disappearance sans their relatives and friends, and even then they did nothing to see if they were alright, believing that they were simply too busy working to contact them.
In the end, it turned out they weren't.
I opened a portal to a spot of jungle in the Congo Basin, the location where one of the black magic signatures was located, expecting to see something that indicated the presence of both human life and the Garfield family, maybe a lab or even a village they were residing in. Instead, I found a cave. Just a cave, not some opening to an underground city or some ruins.
Something was wrong, as I later found out, and by later I mean 'less than thirty seconds after'.
The moment I set a foot into the cave, I was promptly attacked by a leopard, a smallish one to be precise. While it did startle me, it wasn't its ferocity or its sudden appearance that did so, but the fact that its fur was a moss green.
I stood there as the leopard tried to maul me without success, knowing who he was and unwilling to hurt him. At the same time, I expected him to do something else than just attacking me by himself, maybe summoning animals to his aid or something like that.
Eventually, Garfield tired himself out and turned back to his human form, glaring up at me as he crawled deeper into the cave, still on all fours, growling like an animal.
Only, he wasn't a teenager as he usually was in stories.
He was a child, barely out of toddlerhood by his size. More specifically, a wild child that could turn into animals. Again, I should have known given that both Logas had been actually quite young when they disappeared, but still.
This… complicated things.
Beast Boy makes his appearance, but he's not as old as usual. Sorrry for the lack of length for this chapter, I thought I didn't need to write more given everything depicted. Everything else that might seem flawed to you is a lack of putting my back into it like the others. Don't worry, though, the next one will be much longer, 2000 at least.
Last edited: Dec 11, 2021
The Boy
So, there was I, staring down at a green-skinned feral child, flaggerbasted by the fact he was a kid instead of a man, or even a teenager as I hoped, Garfield, in turn, stared up at me with teeth bared, but it was clear he was scared of me. Then, I remembered that Allera had gone to Grundy during the forties, well before the Logans were born, and he was apparently the last person empowered by her. That still left a space nearly sixty years.
Indeed, my hopes for a quick mission were washed away when the realization that fully sank in.
And yet, despite the age discrepance, Beast Boy was nonetheless in front of me. His body radiated the red energy that gave him his power, but strangely I didn't detect anything metallic inside. It seemed that Arella only did that specific ritual with Grundy.
Looking around the cave without moving, I saw the remains of dead animals littering the floor, some little more than bones, others a bit meatier. Whatever had happened to his parents, at least Garfield had been capable of caring for himself thanks to his powers.
But for how long, though? Weeks, months, years? Maybe his entire life? If so, what did happen to his parents to leave him in the middle of Africa's largest rainforest?
Still not knowing what to do at the moment, I decided to pull off my helmet, not just to not scare him further by showing him that I was a person, but also to see him with my eyes. Then, I crouched low to seem as less threatening as I was.
Garfield, mesmerized by the fact that (from his point of view) I pulled out my 'head' to reveal another, normal one underneath it, and that I looked like him, stopped growling and, after several seconds of silence, crawled up to me and stood up on two legs to see my face more clearly before doing what any curious boy his age did: touch my face, grab my nose, pull on my beard to see how would I react, the typical.
I let him because I wanted to earn his trust, and because I was probably the only real human contact he had for a long time. Plus, seeing him play with my beard put a small smile in my face. Then, inspection of me completed, he stepped back a bit and looked at me again.
I stood there for several minutes, both of us staring at each other, before I slowly rose up and walked out of the cave, helmet still in hand, the pitter-patter behind me signifying he followed.
As I walked around the jungle in search for something that might tell me about his parents' fate, I either heard Garfield's steps or saw him stalking me from afar, clearly believing I could not discern his green camouflage from the jungle. After an hour of fruitless search, and before I could ask VEGA to scan the area, Garfield jumped in front of me. However, he didn't attack me as some of you might think, but instead merely looked at me for several seconds before. It was obvious he wanted me to follow him, and that he knew something.
Eventually, after following Garfield through the jungle for several hours and the sun began to set, I found what I was searching for: a large, ovoid clearing in which the tattered remains of a long-abandoned campsite rested, one littered with human bones.
The moment Garfield entered the clearing he stood there, frozen as he stared at the bones. By his stance and sad eyes he had already come there before I found him.
There were no footsteps around to indicate who or what did this, no spent brass cartridges, no camera with the recording of a doomed expedition… nothing that could tell me who did this, and the Logans had no one who wanted them dead. However, I did find out something upon a closer inspection: some of the skeletons had been crushed like twigs by something.
"VEGA, can you find anything? Any leads about what might have happened?"
"I'm afraid not, Slayer. However, I can tell you it's been abandoned for three years"
His response made me grunt in displeasure. For the first time since I came here, and not counting Rachel, we were in the blind about something, which I didn't like the slightest. John could help, but he was busy at the moment, and as much as I hated to I knew I couldn't just deviate myself from th mission just to find out how they died. At the very least, I knew had to have raised Garfield somewhat.
Again I looked around to find something, anything that could direct me, but all I found was Garfield still standing there, contemplating two particular skeletons. Seeing him there, staring at the vine-covered bones of his parents. Pretty sure the only reason he was not crying was because he had done so a long time ago and his tears had simply dried out.
I approached the boy and embraced him as gently as I could, and while he squirmed at first, eventally he stopped resistingh.
I really didn't know how else should I comfort someone with such a loss, as since my arrival here, and other than the Voyager's debacle, I never dealt with doing so; that was how Clark lived by, and even Bruce, but not me. Still, didn't mean I lacked a heart.
Whoever had done this, they would end up wishing they hadn't come out of their stinking hole.
Sadly, as said earlier, and as much as I hated to, I could not stay there to investigate further, and neither could Garfield. Sure, he had managed to survive there by himself for however long, but at the same time something made me refuse to leave him in the jungle. As for giving him to his living relatives…
So, it was decided: I would take Garfield to the Fortress.
I didn't realize it at the moment, but I essentially adopted the boy, just like that, although it took some time for both of us to realize it.
Plus, Grundy could use the presence of someone who wasn't scared of him… after some controlled interactions, that is.
I let Garfield go before standing up and opening a portal on a side of the clearing; while naturally startled by the sudden appearance of the dark blue vortex, just like before, Garfield approached it with curiosity. Then, I stepped through the portal into the fortress, and after several seconds of waiting Garfield followed.
It was the beginning of his new life.
It ended up being both easier and harder than I thought it would be; easier, because he adapted quite well, harder because he first had to adapt which, given his ability, was kind of a problem.
One would expect him to act more like a beast than a person given his past, but aside from morphing into animals. eating with his hands and moving on all fours, he acted like the toddler he was, if much more energetically. It seemed that being brought to civilization (as much as the Fortress could be called that) had resurfaced the human in him, which was good.
Back to Garfield's first days in the Fortress, I gave him one of the smaller and closer to mine's rooms of the Fortress as his, big enough for him to move around in his elephant form (not that big yet, but still as large as a mastiff). For starters, the animals I had seen him into had been fauna exclusive to the Congo Basin, elephantss included. It seemed that for him to use his power, he had to have seen the animal he wanted to turn into before.
Wanting to test the theory, I put an hologram of a tiger in front him, an exact copy of the animal the point one would have believed it was the real deal until they tried to touch it. After a short while, understanding what I wanted from him, Garfield grunted and winced, and then turned into a tiger. A cub, but a tiger nonetheless. I did the same with several other animals not native to Africa (specifically a brown bear, an emperor penguin, a tapir, a komodo dragon and a dingo), and he promptly turned into all of them.
It would be a long time before he could transform into Earth's most powerful megafauna (and given this was DC it didn't encompass just dinosaurs and prehistoric mammals), mostly because I didn't want him to yet, but this was a good start. As for the end goal for this, one day he would stop being a child and would want to be a hero.
Being a child who had been for himself in a jungle, Garfield was, for lack of a better term to describe it, prone to causing mischief, even though most of it had been accidental. Among the many things he caused:
-Akane nearly getting her ears bit off when, after being told of Garfield and seeing him she grabbed the boy from behind. She happily forgave him, but was sure of never surprising him again, at least from the back.
-Cracking a screen with his gorilla form when it lit up next to him. He cut his hands for his troubles, and after I stopped his attempts to throw stuff at them he refused to go near any screen too low to the ground afterwards.
-Ripping some hair strands from Grundy for some unknown reason. Grundy didn't even feel it, but he did see Garfield run away and comment upon it.
"Little animal boy is weird."
Oh, Grundy. Again, you might think he must have lacked the patience, but instead he was fascinated by the mere existence of Garfield, having never seen someone so young yet at the same time older than Arella's baby. It wasn't true friendship per se, at least at first, but close enough nonetheless. Maybe it was a side effect of being avatars of.
Another thing about him: being around me and VEGA for over a week had improved his vocabulary, if only by a little. I hoped it would improve further, to get him out of part of his big brute image when he finally came back to Earth and met the public in person. Plus, I took the time to close his gaping wounds, because of the previous statements and because seeing his muscle, bone and sinew arose my inner want to rip something apart. It wasn't an unbearable feeling, but it was still there.
So, to summarize, Garfield acquitted himself well to his new surroundings.
And then came the day I told Bruce and Clark about Garfield, and what I had planned for him. Let's just say that, despite his still face, the Batman was not happy with my decision, not one bit.
In his thirty-odd years of life and through his career as vigilante, Bruce had seen many, many things, from a crocodile man strong enough to lift propane cylinders nearly as big as him and throw them with ease, to a man faster than a speeding bullet, to a bona fida alien invasion, and many, many other things.
He never, ever expected to see Solomon Grundy having a staring contest with a boy who could not be any older than four perched on his shoulders (much less one with green skin and pointed ears) before turning into a bird and flying off. A boy that, if Slayer's words were anything to go by, could turn into any animal from Earth, and might be able to do even more than just that as he grew older.
He, Clark and the Flash had been called by Doom Slayer to inform them of what he had found on the Congo in his search of the 'elemental avatars': the host of the Red, a boy called Garfield Logan, who had been living by himself on the rainforest for an unknown amount of time after his parents had been mysteriously killed. Slayer said he had left their remains back there in the jungle out of respect, not wanting to disturb them, but planned to take them to their other relatives.
Strange. If Arella had done the ritual sixty years prior, that meant she linked Garfield's grandparents, not his parents. Maybe it was inheritable? They had asked Slayer about it, and even he was stumped about it.
And then there was the fact the boy basically shared house with Solomon Grundy. No matter how well-natured he was now, one misstep and the boy would…
Bruce shook his head to keep away from such thoughts, but he was certain Slayer saw him.
"So, let me get this straight." He heard Wally said before summarizing what they had been told. Unlike him or Slayer, both him and Clark could only communicate via audio due to having only an earpiece given to them by Bruce (originally he had only made one for Clark, but after Slayer's arrival and meeting the speedster in person he decided to keep in touch with him) and so could not see anything from either of them. "Did I get it right?"
"More or less."
"Any idea of who did it? The deaths, I mean."
Doom Slayer shook his head. "As much as I hate to admit it, nothing. Whoever killed them was very thorough in making sure they wouldn't be found. That, or just lucky. As for using John's help, he's still working and I don't want to bother him. Besides, I can't exactly divide my time right now."
"What about his family?" Clark asked, before clarifying. "I mean his living family. He has to have uncles, aunts. You can't just make him stay in the Fortress forever."
"He does, but after VEGA ran some simulations of them meeting Garfield I decided that the best for him, and for them, is that they don't know about him. The Logans didn't stell them anything about expecting a child either, so they don't know Garfield exists."
Bruce had to stop himself from crying out at his response. Refusing to let his family see the boy, even not telling them about his existence just like that?
"Simulations? Seriously? Look, I kind of like VEGA despite the guy not even having a face, but
"Maybe, maybe not, but I don't want to take Garfield to his uncle only for him to scream the moment he sees his nephew looks like a freak. I didn't need to simulate the encounter given the many examples already out there."
Bruce grunted, but at the same time he had to agree with his reasoning, especially given he knew about the 'examples' Slayer was talking about: being treated like a freak by your own family was the very same reason Croc became the misanthropic man-eater he was today, and many other villains out there he knew of.
He still did not like the alternative, which he knew because he had done something similar with Dick.
"Then who will you send him to?" He asked slowly, even though he already knew the response.
Instead of replying, the soldier merely looked at him through the screen. Even though they couldn't see either of them, Clark and Wally knew what exactly was he getting at, the latter being the one to speak.
"You mean-"
"Yes, I'm taking Garfield under my wing."
The mental image of a green-skinned savage capable of turning turn animals, linked to Earth's animal kingdom and all that implied, and being not merely trained, but outright raised by someone like Doom Slayer made Bruce's eyes twitch. Someone so young, practically pure being under the care of a man not afraid of ripping his enemies with his bare hands, see their blood spill to the floor, and hear the desperate screams of their friends before going for them.
It didn't matter the sheer ridiculousness and impossibility of Slayer training the boy for that precise reason, but still.
It seemed that the soldier noted his fears, which admittedly wouldn't have been hard. "No, I'm not making him my sucessor, or even my damned sidekick. He's just a toddler, Bruce. Besides, the most he can do is turn into animals."
Bruce allowed himself to give a sigh of relief. Nonetheless, he would have to do something to see if Doom Slayer was being honest or not, or at least he limited himself to just train the boy for mere self-defense, which would make sense.
"Always the paranoid." Clark remarked. "Still, aren't there other options for Garfield?"
"Did you really expect me to leave the boy there, in the jungle? He's got human contact here more since I'll still bring to Earth to at least meet you, and VEGA is more than capable of being his private tutor, so he doesn't need to enroll in a school either."
"Damn, talk about being prepared for anything. Do a giant zombie and two japanese werewolves count as human, though?" Wally asked.
"I didn't say that you're not able ot taking care of Garfield." Clark clarified, ignoring Wally's question. "He must have other relatives that would take him in, maybe even his parent's friends. If not, I'm sure an orphanage might take him in."
"You sure they'd actually take him in, though? Or anyone at all" Wally pointed out. "I mean, just look at him: he's green, and… Okay, can't exactly look, but you get the idea: he wouldn't be just bullied by some snotty brats. Trust me, I would know."
Green, pointy-eared and fanged to boot.
"Alright. Since the issue with Garfield is solved, at least for the moment, is there anything else you want to tell us about?" Bruce asked. In truth it wasn't solved (they still didn't know how did Garfield get the Red linked to him despite Arella doing her magic sixty years prior, or who killed his parents), but for now he couldn't do anything about it.
Doom Slayer nodded. "I found another of the linked, this time the Clear, the element of water."
"And where did you locate it?"
"It's in Atlantis."
'Naturally. '
Did I handle Beast Boy's situation right? Is the overused, cliché excuse of 'family'll treat him like a freak' a good reason to keep him in the Fortress, even though, as just stated, it's an overused trope? Again, if the ending seems rushed to you, lag is still tormenting me. Maybe because the chapters are too long?
crazydave3226 said:
And, I've caught up.
honestly the story seems good so far. However, I did have some gripes with it. Thankfully though, everyone here so far has voiced my concerns. Like the need to lie about the your origins (you as Doom Slayer, not as an SI) even though there's not really much that people can utilise given the knowledge about Argent D'nur and such. Or about the overuse of future teasing.
Also I don't know if this was already established before, but I'm confused as to why your character is 4 inches taller than OG Doomguy (Doomguy is 6'8" in Doom eternal, but your character has been stated to be 7 foot) and has a beard as apposed to the normal clean face. If this was already elaborated then I must've missed a message or something.
Those are just nitpicks though, overall I'm liking where the story is going, and I'm also liking the direction of it too. I just hope we get to see some more of Doomguy letting loose on a bunch of demons. And yeah, keep it up.
Click to expand…
Click to shrink…
The height thing is for several reasons:
-Most DC self inserts are nearly always shorter than either Superman or Batman. Granted, the canon DS is pretty tall already, but I made this so tall even the taller Batman has to crane his neck up because I wanted to make him seem less of just a super soldier fueled by divine energy and more of a force of nature.
-Kind of an homage/reference to Space Marines, since Doom Slayer is practically one in all but name, and Astartes are pretty damn big even without their armors on.
-Until Grundy came to scene, he was the closest thing this universe has to Hulk. Again, making him the biggest hero is kind of an homage.
The beard also has several explanatiions, but overall it's simply an obsession of mine.
The Enemy from Above I
I never thought the person bonded with the Clear would be living in Atlantis, if only because it seemed a tad too obvious. I didn't know who was it either, and the last time I saw Arthur he didn't irradiate blue energy so it wasn't him.
Either by chance or fate, a few days after talking with the trio the capital was attacked by the rest Red Trident, a veritable army whose original goal was to free their imprisoned friends, take over the city and force Arthur to declare war on the surface, despite the fact the last time they did anything they got exterminated by me, and that Arthur had no moral compunctions about killing threats to his people.
Only, the Red Trident ended up being the least of our problems.
Namely because an army of revenge-driven divers killed them first.
"Hold the line, me-" A captain managed to yell out before a barbed harpoon pierced his head and ripped it off.
"Kill them all!" His killer screamed from several yards away, many other throats repeating his call.
The battered line of atlantean soldiers would have fallen if not for Arthur rallying them to the defense.
"Keep fighting!" He shouted as he fired at the enemy, smoking rifle in one hand and bloodstained trident in the other. He had a special surprise for them to get some breathing, but he needed some time to prepare it.
This sight repeated itself across a makeshift barricade made of debris and the occupied streets between it and the barrier around the city, although both sides were inflicting casualties on the other. Nonetheless, despite outnumbering the invaders, the atlantean troopers were dying in droves due to the enemies' determination, hundreds of black coloured, red eyed armored figures wearing something akin to armored scuba diving suits shooting either energy beams or high-powered harpoons at the improptu barricade as they screamed and cursed them and their city.
And then, a literal tidal wave arose from behind the barricade before being launched at the invaders and pushing them back to the barrier, causing them to scream in terror. Even if they didn't drown, the weight of hundreds of gallons of water still killed many of them.
"Stand fast, boys! We will hold the line!" He shouted before launching another water blast at the line of enemies, pushing them back even further and hopefully killing some more, with the survivors running back to their positions.
"Run, you bastards!"
"King Orrin!"
"Atlantis!"
He heard many of them cheer and shout as they saw the invaders running, but just as many were silent, rifles hanging from their arms and expressions of fear, exhaustion and anger on their faces. Sighing, Arthur turned back and looked at the enemy left behind, who after being tossed back by the tidal wave returned to their companions.
The day had begun well, a simple day in Atlantis. And then the Red Trident attacked one of the neighborhoods closest to the barrier not just in great numbers, enough to overwhelm the guards quickly, but also with mechanized support in the form of crawlers. How did those murdering bastards get so many people and materiel inside the city, or military hardware at all, Arthur didn't know, and frankly didn't care. He only knew that the Red Trident was more than willing to kill their own people just to get their bastard of a leader and his wretched cronies out of prison, and that they would know what does it feel being at the wrong side of Atlantis' wrath.
At first, the fight was more or less equal, with the defenders having more men and motivation on their side, and the Trident being having defenses. Things stayed like that for several hours during until several dozens of armored individuals came from outside the barrier and began attacking the Red Trident without abandon. While understandably wary of them, Arthur saw no reason to piss them off, at least not until after the fighting stopped: after all, they seemed to be on their side.
That is, until the 'assistance', having killed the last Trident, turned their wrath on Atlantis and began killing anyone they could until Arthur and the rest of the troops, shock wore off, began fighting them, using whatever they could get their hands on to build a wall to cover behind.
With the local garrison already weakened in the previous battle, the only real defense standing between Atlantis' terrified populace and death were Arthur, the atlantean Royal Guard and what was left of the garrison.
Arthur grunted as he saw the invaders regroup. A much as he wanted to, he couldn't just wash them all away, not only because the trident had its limits but also because the previous attack had shattered several buildings, and he didn't want to test his luck. He couldn't rely on the help of the sea life either, due to the protective air bubble around the city.
"Milord" Arthurt turned to look at who called him, a middle-aged, black haired man in armor. It was admiral Arkantos, the man in charge of leading Atlantis' fleet. He, alongside a few others, were the highest ranking officers left: Brak and the others died either the Red Trident invasion or the subsequent attack, and Orm was away on a diplomatic mission to the city of the Brine. ", I admire your fighing spirit, but we can't keep fighting like this. The men are getting tired of fighting two invading forces, and this one doesn't seem to just want to conquer the city."
He was, of course, talking about the fact the new arrivals had yet to done anything else that didn't involve killing his men. A tad obvious by that point, but it was still the truth: whoever they were, they wanted to kill them all, and because of the Red Trident's stupidity and his own limitations, they might be able to at least do it halfway.
"Where are our reinforcements from the other cities, then? I assume you called for them?"
The commander sighed. "They won't arrive for at least two hours. Your brother's closer, but it's just him and his escort. I also tried to call the Coast Guard, but something's jamming the long-range comms." Just the fact Arkantos tried to call the surface of the attack showed the changes of those last months… and the direneess of their situation.
"We don't have two hours." Arthur growled. And, as much as he cared about Orm despite their differences, there was little he and two hundred men could do.
Arkantos merely looked away from him. "It's all we can do at the moment your majesty." He said in an uneasy tone, which Arthur noted.
"Something else is worrying you, admiral."
Arkantos nodded. "After their first charge, I managed to snatch one of their weapons and take a look at one of their dead. His helmet had been shot off and…" He trailed off.
Arthur did not like the way he was speaking, knowing it had to be something he didn't want to hear, but nonetheless urged him to continue. "And?"
Arkantos took a deep breath, clearly bothered by what he was about to say. "Many of them are of original making, but at least some are just modified hydro-pulse rifles. And even though I only managed to get a glance before they dragged the corpse, I believe they're surface dwellers."
Arthur's eyes narrowed when he heard that. The last thing his kingdom needed was a war they didn't start with the surface, not after his efforts to try and make relations with them.
"Are you sure? They could have just nabbed the Trident's weapons."
"They did." Arkantos stated. "But for some reason the Trident have modified their weapons' shells. It's probably a change they made after their failed attack, but the one I grabbed looked exactly like mine, and its mechanism seemed to be recently hydrated. Trust me, I know my guns."
The monarch caressed his beard in thought, grunting as he did so. People of the surface, attacking Atlantis with atlantean werapons? Was this some plan of the Red Trident gone wrong? Did some surface country decide to attack them? If so, where the hell did they get them?
And then he realized how they got their hands in the weapons… and the most likely reason they attacked Atlantis.
"Your majesty, admiral!" Both turned to look at who called them, a pair of soldiers dragging one of the invaders, armor making it impossible to discern the gender, who didn't bother to free themselves. "We've got a living one." They then held them in frot of Arthur.
"At least we can get some answers." Arthur grabbed the unknown by the scruff of their suit with one hand. "You have ten seconds to tell us why are you and your friends attacking our city before I impale you like a damn fish!"
The individual spoke, revealing herself to be a woman, her distorted voice filtered through a changer. "We are the survivors of your attack on the Voyager of the Seas, and the families of those who were murdered by you freaks!" She spat.
'Of course, it's all about revenge.' Arthur thought morosely. He already had an idea that formed the moment Arkantos told him about their werapons; this woman just confirmed it.
"You bastards took e verything from us! You took my baby from me!" She shrieked. "Ripped him from my arms and stomped on his head!"
Arthur had to stop himself from wincing when the image of a dead baby ( his baby) being killed so gruesomely popped on his mind, but he managed to shake it off. "It was the Red Trident who did it, not us! And for you information you already killed them all! And you already killed several of my men!" He shot back.
"You misunderstood me then! We want to make sure it won't happen again!"
"By attacking Atlantis?" Arkantos asked.
"By sending you all to Hell where you belong, and HE will lead the purge!"
"'He'?" Arthur asked, wanting to know more.
It seemed that the woman would scream some more, but then her helmet turned a bit to look at something behind Arthur. "HE is already here." She spat as she raised a hand to point at whatever she was looking. "Look at our retribution and despair, fishmen!"
Arthur let her go and turned around towards the barrier (a potentially dangerous action, but he realize it) to see what was she talking about. At first he saw nothing across the black waters of the depths but then, he saw something, a dark. Said black form came closer and closer, and when Arthur finally realized what it was it's bow crashed against the barrier, sending water everywhere.
It was a submarine. A big cigar-shaped thing with a black-colored hull and red eyes painted on its prow, at least as long as the palace was tall. By the look it had and its sheer size, it had to be one of those american sea monsters from the Cold War that carried enough warheads to turn a small country into a glowing crater.
And it was about to enter his city and kill hundreds, maybe thousands crashing upon it, and there was nothing he could do to stop it: the Trident couldn't gather enough water to do little more than slow its fall, and he simply couldn't stop something that big and heavy by himself with muscle alone.
The vessel finally crossed the barrier fully, flew in the air of the city for a moment, it's short flight propelled by its momentum, before crashing right behind the barricade, crushing several buildings and killing hundreds of people.
Or rather, that's what would have happened, had it not been caught just as its prow neared the ground by a pale-skinned man the size of an armored van that had been shot out of a blue portal. It did hit several buildings, the floor the man exploded due to the thousands of tons being suddenly and transferred to a much smaller form, and the action still caused a shockwave that sweeped the area and broke windows, but fortunately nobody was seriously hurt.
Both the invaders and the atlanteans, Arthur included, watched in wonder and amazement as the unknown man, clearly struggling to hold the weighy machine by his grunts of effort but otherwise unmoving from his spot, kept the submarine high in the air (to the point its propellers were outside the barrier) for several seconds before bellowing and throwing it to the other side of the barricade. The invaders there only had scant seconds to run not fast enough before being crushed.
After the submarine crashed upside down, several doors opened on its sides, from which many invaders spewed out, many of them confused and disoriented by what just happened, and some simply fell down to the ground and didn't get up. The rest, though, didn't waste time in firing at the atlantean line, this time with firearms and explosives alongside hydro rifles and harpoons.
None of this mattered to the newcomer, who leaped at them, crossing a distance of a hundred yards in less than five seconds. When he came down amidst them (and crushing three under his feet), the force of his landing caused another shockwave to push those around him back. After the display of power, the crouched figure stood up, towering above those surrounding him, gave a roar that shook the air and forced everyone to clasp their ears.. and stomped on an unfortunate bastard too close to him, turning them into a smear of gore, crushed bones and armor.
Horrified as they were, the invaders couldn't react fast enough before the giant began his rampage, tearing through them like they were made of plastiline. Anyone he didn't throw away simply exploded in a shower of gore and metal, and even the former ended up crunched like beer cans against the floors or walls they hit.
The surface attackers further away from the giant focused their fire on him, but neither bullet, rocket, grenade, plasma or harpoon could pierce his skin, and in the case of the bullets some even bricocheted back at them. Reinvigorated by this unexpected but welcome turn of the tide, and not caring of the brutality they were witnesses to, the atlantean soldiers renewed their attack and charged at the disorganized invaders, careful to not hit their ally.
All sans Arthur, Arkantos and their prisoner, who stood there, gaping like fish in the men's case.
"Poseidon's balls…" The admiral breathed. "I don't know if feel relieved or terrified by this. I've seen trench rip a man to shreds, but they had claws, and there were dozens of them. This… I simply can't… "
The woman said nothing, her helmet hiding her face, but it was clear by her frozen stance and her breathing she too was terrified.
Arthur, however, was shocked for another reason, because he knew who this man, this monster was… and he didn't know what to feel.
It was Solomom Grundy, the zombie Doom Slayer had taken under his wing nearly two weeks prior, according to his father's TV when he had visited him the previous week. According to the newscaster, Grundy was also a dangerous undead freak of nature strong enough to force Superman to kill him, which obviosuly hadn't worked.
And where Grundy was, Slayer had to be close… but where?
His answer came several seconds later in the form of another submarine entering Atlantis from the other side… with rivers of blood pouring from holes on it.
So, the actions of the Red Trident finally had their long awaited consequences happen. Also, the submarine is an Ohio-class attack sub modified to carry personnel. As for how did David get two (modified to carry people) submarines and enough material and personnel to attack a city, you'll receive the answers in the next chapter.
The Enemy from Above II
On the dark dungeon located on the depths the Fortress of Doom, Solomon Grundy was staring at the stone ceiling after an hour of chasing little Garfield around the place. The boy was probably with his caretaker by now, doing whatever he did.
That made Grundy think about he hadn't thought about before. Did he have any children as Gold (illegitimate, given his lifestyle)? Or had his life as cowboy stopped him from, well, having fun in brothels? Or maybe it was his career itself what stopped any possible romance?
Grundy grunted as he moved a bit. 'That couldn't have been, he was a mellow man when not shooting Daltons with a gun. Handsome, too.'
Other men, had they pondered on that, would have mourned their loss of normalcy and normal looks. Grundy, though, simply didn't care: he was aware he had been Cyrus Gold before, but nonetheless saw him as a different person due to his… circumstance. That said, he apparently did retain a trait of him: his non-confrontational attitude, at least when outside the 'job'.
Despite his appearance and his first action in the modern world, Grundy didn't exactly like violence. Sure, most definitely would destroy those who pissed him offf, as he had already done, but he didn't like to start fights. He still desired to rip that green-caped man's head off and crush it between his fingers, but according to Slayer the bastard would have it coming, just not yet. Plus, maybe he could make a forest rip the bastard apart. He had yet to do anything remotely similar to plant control, but Doom Slayer said that eventually he'd be able to. First, though, he had to fulfill his promise to Arella, and protect his daughter, even though technically he was breaking that same promise.
So, having nothing else to do that day, he laid there, down in the dark.
Until VEGA called him.
"Mr. Grundy" He heard VEGA's voice say. He had gotten used to the robotical voice, but that didn't stop him from cringing a bit due to the sudden call. ", Slayer is asking for your presence."
Grundy stood up and straightened up. "I go." He didn't bother to ask what exactly did Slayer ask for him. Until then, the man had always gone to him to talk. It had to be something if he had made his butler call for him.
Reaching the main hall of the fortress, he saw Slayer observing the main screen silently, Garfield sitting on a nearby chair and watching just as quiet with a frown. When he turned to look at the screen, Grundy understood why they were like that.
Black armored men exchanging fire with a line of unarmored soldiers led by a bearded blonde standing on a shoddy-looking wall, all of it under a bubble from behind which was water. The attackers eventually retreated after being splashed by a large wave from nowhere.
That wasn't what angered Grundy, though. It was the many, many corpses littering the ground, and several buildings with gaping holes on them he discerned behind the invaders that did.
"There are three submarines in route, two refurbished Ohio-class ballistic missile submarines and a smaller, unknown class. Neither of the Ohio's are equiped with warheads or a reactor. At their current speeds, the first Ohio will enter the city in approximately one minute, the second one another after."
"And the third?" Slayer asked.
"Five minutes." VEGA said before correcting himself. "Nevermind, it has stopped at a nautical mile from the city. It appears that the head of the invasion is overseeing it from there."
"Any ideas of who might they be?"
The image of a black man came onscreen. "David Hyde, 40. His wife and son were on the Voyager of the Seas."
Grundy saw Slayer's hands curl into fists at the mention of the ill-fated cruise. He had been told about it, of how terrorist mermaids had attacked an ocean liner and killed hundreds of people just because they threw trash on the ocean, and planned to ram the ship on a port in the West Coast. Fortunately, Doom Slayer managed to stop their plot… brutally.
Why were they attacking their own people under the command of a human, he didn't know. What he did know, though, was that they were again killing people.
"People dying." 'People ARE dying' . Grundy had to stop himself from growling from both his still lacking grammar, and the fact he could be saving people just as Slayer had planned for him. He turned to look at the soldier. "Must help them!"
Doom Slayer, rather than repyling directly, opened up a portal right behind Grundy.
"You stop that submarine before it crashes in the city, I'll take the other one." At that Grundy nodded, but before he could leap through Slayer stopped him. "And Grundy, it doesn't matter if they surrender or beg for their miserable lives, kill any you get your hands on. All of them."
Grundy gave another nod, a grim one this time, before jumping through the portal. They wanted death? They would have death.
The moment Grundy jumped out of the portal, the submarine he had to grab was already midway inside the city. Fortunately, the portal had left him right where its front would have landed, and he already had his arms stretched just in time to grab the titanic metal monster.
The giant metal vessel was heavy, heavier than anything he had ever lifted before, even though that list was still quite short. Still, he managed to raise above his head, then throw it back at the bad guys. Then, after it landed and more enemies began to pour out of it, Grundy jumped at them and began to rip them apart, their feeble attempts at fighting back doing nothing.
As he ripped a man in half, Grundy wondered how was the Slayer doing on the other submarine.
So, Black Manta made his appearance at last… and was a villain as all the others, only this time, he had a more justified reasonfor his actions: being mad with grief.
I understood his anger, his rage… but the atlanteans were not demons.
While Grundy and what was left of the atlantean army dealt with the first submarine, I tore my way through the second one, having opened a portal directly on its bridge, none of them wearing armor. If you're wondering why didn't I do that with the one David was in since the beginning, it's because I was leaving him for last. After all, Arthur would want to get his hands on the man who killed over a thousand of his people.
The others wouldn't live to see it happen, though, not after what they did.
They (both Hyde and his followers) had officially become worse than the Red Trident, and therefore their punishment had to be more severe which, admittedly, would be hard to give if my aim was to surpass the brutality I inflicted on the Trident. So, I settled by killing them all: neither I nor Grundy would give them quarter, no matter if they surrendered, and not giving a damn of the public's reaction when they found out… even though some wouldn't care either.
As I made my way to the bridge of the submarine, killing everyone on my way, I also started to open holes on the hull of the boat. It wasn't so deep in the ocean that the jets of water couldk kill, but that wasn't the reason: anyone I missed would drown due to not wearing their suits, nor having time to put them on.
Plus, I wanted to terrify the fuck out of those already in Atlantis by making them see that their reinforcements had been turned into mincemeat, and their sub a casket.
That said, my rampage through the vehicle made me discover something: while some did beg for their lives before I stomped them, the rest of Black Manta's men and women faced me faced me fearlessly. It seemed that they didn't care being killed, so long as they got their revenge on the atlanteans. Their large number and the fact they had nuclear submarines was explained by many of them being just mercenaries hired to aid in the massacre or mere bigots, and the aid of people with connections that did not like the existence of an underwater, moderately advanced country in the Eastern Coast inhabited by xenophobic transhumans.
I'd end up dealing with those people later.
After I made sure I killed everyone on board, I jumped out of the ship with super shotgun in hand, just in time to hear Arthur calling for me.
"Slayer!" I turned around to see the king of Atlantis run at me, followed by another man garbed in military apparel, clearly an officer of some sort. While the soldier had an uneasy expression on his face, Arthur was practically elated to see me there… at least until he realized I was covered in blood, stopping at a safe distance from me.. "Thank Poseidon you and your… friend got here! Those bastards-"
I raised a hand to stop him. "I know, they want payback for what the Red Trident did months ago. It's not hard to see that, really, although I never expected someone do something like this."
"You mean hijack two submarines from the surface military and try to ram a city with them?" The man behind him said.
"Admiral Arkantos, highest living officer in Atlantis." Arthur explained. "The others were killed by either the Red Trident or the invaders."
"The Trident attacked Atlantis?" I asked.
Arkantos nodded at that. "Before the invaders came, the Red Trident attacked the city in mass in hopes of either getting the king to declare war on the surface, or kill him and take control themselves, and our forces could barely hold them. We actually cheered when strange armored people came from outside the barrier and began fighting them…. until they turned their guns on us, that is."
Arthur then growled. "I understand their anger, but they already killed the Red Trident. But with you and Solomon Grundy helping us, they're doomed."
Behind them, on the distance, I could see Grundy, who was covered in blood just like me, forcing a hole in the front of submarine to get at the people taking refuge inside, atanteans soldiers behind him. They'll had to move fast if they wanted to get payback on the invaders, before Grundy killed them all by himself.
"It was actually a coincidence what made me come here." Seeing his confused expression, I clarified. "I wanted to visit you due to a… problem of mine that involves magic. First, though, we will deal with the invaders. Then I'll explain further."
Both monarch and admiral looked at the submarines. "I think we already got them all."
"There's a third submarine away from the city, from which the leaders of this group are coordinating the attack. I can open a portal to them to end their threat once and for all."
"Excellent."
At that moment, Grundy came back from finishing the first submarine's occupants, followed by a several soldiers… although I wouldn't know about the last part until several minutes later, given he leaped at us. Arthur and Arkantos stepped back from him as he landed next to me, cracking the floor under his weight. "All dead. Gave no mercy." He told me.
I nodded in satisfaction before turning back to Arthur. "You can do the favours and lead the charge, but we need to take their leader alive."
Naturally Arthur didn't like my response, but nonetheless he kept his cool. "Why."
I merely stared at him. "I gave you Krios to judge and punish because he's one of your people, you'll do the same with him and the surface."
Arthur grunted in agreement. "How do we recognize them? Have you seen their face?"
"Trust me, you'll recognize him when you see him." I then opened a portal to David's submarine, specifically the bridge. "Lead the way, I'll be right behind you, but beware, they don't fear death and so will not be afraid of you… nor me."
Nodding grimly, Arthur walked up to the open portal, entered it… and was then promptly blasted out by a red beam.
Early chapter because of Christmas. The fighting is shory because, really, what could stop zombie Hulk and lore Doom Slayer from killing you? For those wondering why did they leave Garfield alone in the Fortress (because I know you do
), there's VEGA to look after him for the moment.
Last edited: Dec 24, 2021
The Enemy from Above III
Saying that the attack was unexpected would be understating it: no one before had actually managed to send a shot through a Doom Slayer's portal, not even the man himself.
Pretty sure that Arthur would have paid a king's ransom to know that before being blasted right in the chest and sent flying backwards, crashing a whole hundred feet away.
"My king!" Arkantos and the others promptly ran to tend to their monarch, while a few stated with their allies, aiming their rifles at the portal. Meanwhile, both Doom Slayer and Grundy stood there, waiting for whoever had done that to come out.
Not a moment too soon, twelve armored figures stepped out of the portal, their armor similar to their underling's but carrying much larger weapons that glowed blue, followed then by a seventh, taller one, who stood up from them by their more intrincate suit, and an egg-shaped helmet with red blazing eyes.
Eyes that looked straight at Doom Slayer. Despite the helmet, it was obvious they were pissed at him, and the reason for it was clear to the soldier. However, for some reason Doom Slayer didn't attack, and neither did the others nor the invaders.
One of the atlantean soldiers, either losing his nerve or wanting to take out of the ones that attacked his home and king, decided to break the standoff and shot at the leader, aiming for their head. The energy beam hit the strangely shaped helmet, and the figure did recoil, but to the man's horror the shot did nothing to the invader, not even scratch the metal.
The leader, recovering from the attack, stared at the man for a second before the glow of the helmet's eyes intensified. Before the soldier could even move, fire again, scream, anything, the invader shoht a red beam that engulfed the atlantean's head, then the torso, and finally his entire body. Less than three seconds later, nothing except ashes remained from him.
The soldiers stared at the scorch mark that mere seconds before had been one of their number A regular hydro-pulse rifle couldn't do that in less than thirty seconds. How did they manage to get that kind of power from a mere helmet, none of the atlanteans knew. They did know, however, that one shot from that thing and they were dead.
Fortunately, they had Doom Slayer.
The rest of the invaders promptly raised their weapons and took aim at the remaining soldiers.
Even with their training and drive to kill, Doom Slayer and Grundy were still faster.
Eight shotgun blasts later, eight things that used to be living bodies laid on the floor, their flesh ripped apart. The other four had been dealt with by Grundy, two being punched to bits and the remaining two simply stomped on.
The leader didn't even flinch as blood splattered on his helmet, only doing so as the other atlanteans fired at him. Again, their fire didn't really hurt him.
Grundy growled and prepared to destroy the strange man, but a raised hand from Slayer stopped him. Confused, Grundy looked down at the soldier with a furrowed brow.
"Let's heard what they have to say first." He whispered to him. "They haven't attacked yet, and I want to know everything from them before finishing them off." He then turned to the astonished troopers. "That goes for you too."
Grundy looked back at the invaders, then at Slayer, before nodding and stepping back. The soldiers, confused but not wanting to anger Doom Slayer, backed off too, but never stopping aiming at the man as he had a stare down with Slayer.
The leader of the group was the first one to speak. "Why?" The distorted, deep voice was clearly male.
"Why what?" Slayer asked.
"Why are you helping these… monsters?!" His modulator could not hide the sheer anger behind the voice. "After what they did?! Knowing what they tink of us?! What they want to do to us?!"
"The 'monsters' you're talking about are already dead, killed by your friends. You know, focusing your rage on the Red Trident, and them alone, would have made you heroes, at least for these people."
"They share blood with those murderers! By extension they shed the blood of the innocent! It's just fair that we wanted to shed theirs for what they did to us, our spouses, our children!" The man began to rant. "And don't try to lie to me, you know they want to do it again, to the whole human race! This is not just about vengeance, it's about protecting the surface from these sea devils!" As he spoke, his eyes began to glow more and more, yet he made no move to attack.
Doom Slayer still said nothing.
"Every night until this day, I dreamt about my wife and son being killed by horrors from the deep, of my home being flooded. As the water washes away, the corpses rise and ask me: 'will you let it happen again?'" The man began to pace around, deep breaths coming from him. "I always said that I wouldn't, that I would save mankind from their fate, that I would give them closure, but no matter how many times I said it, how sure I was of it, it didn't change the fact they were already dead!"
"You bastards were killing our families!" One of the atlanteans soldiers shouted back, either feeling brave or the sentiment of anger from the hypocrite riling him up.
The invader stopped pacing to look at him, but just as he fired a blast Doom Slayer put himself between the soldier and him, taking the shot. Naturally, it still did nothing to him.
"It still doesn't change the fact you were killing people that had nothing to do with the Red Trident, David."
The man, now named David, turned to stare at Slayer, probably bewildered because he knew his name. However, before either could say anything, a blonde missile came from above Slayer and slammed into David, both of them flying backwards and into an abandoned house, screaming all the way.
It was Arthur, who despite having a good portion of his body hair burned, beard included, the bandage-covered skin of his chest scorched under the waps, and his left forearm burned to the bone and also wrapped, still had fight in him, given the toothy snarl on his face and the rage with which his eyes glowed. Plus, he still had his trident with him, which explained the force behind the jump.
"Get the hell out of my city!" They head him scream before he and David crashed inside the house.
Arkantos and his men, running towards them, moved to assist their ruler, but a raised hand frorm Doom Slayer stopped them. He didn't need to do anything else.
"No. This is something he has to do it himself."
"Why?" It was Grundy who asked that.
"I don't want to intervene in their fight. It's between Arthur and David, and only them." This caused several soldiers to cry in anger, but Slayer didn't seem to care.
Grundy became puzzled. " A duel?"
Slayer turned to look at him and nodded. "You could say it's one." He turned to look back at the house, already falling apart because of the fighting taking place inside of it, red beams of plasma piecing through the walls and rorof. "It's his city, his people he's fighting for against a man who has lost everything yet has directed his wrath towards those who didn't deserve it, and that's after killing the ones who did."
"I don't get it." A soldier muttered to his fellow, who nodded in agreement. Aside from this, though, they didn't show any sign of disagreement with Doom Slayer. Despite their bewilderment and ange, something still told them that, indeed, this was King Orrin's fight, and his alone.
"Shouldn't we help him then?" Arkantos asked. He didn't demand that Slayer helped the king of Atlantis even though he wanted to, he knew he simply couldn't. "He's still our king, and Atlantis is our city too, the one we swore to protect. Plus, he's still badly wounded even though we patched him up the best we could."
"Not bad enough to not ram into a man with the furry and speed of a sailfish, it seems."
Arkantos rraised a hand to protest, but then lowered it with a sigh. Again, he had no way to go against Doom Slayer's wishes. "Alright, but you realize that if the king dies, the blame will lay on you, and only you, right?"
Doom Slayer didn't even bother to look at him as he gave his response. "
Meanwhile, in the house, two were fighting to the death. Furious as he was Arthur had forgotten about what Slayer had told him to do, and David naturally held Arthur as responsible for everything that had happened since the Voyager. Both wanted the other dead, plain and simple, but it appeared that they had understimated each other as well: the atlantean king was stronger and of heavier built, and his trident was a betterweapon than David's merre knife, but mere minutes prior he had been blasted by an attack that by all rights should have killed him, and despite his anger he actually didn't fully know hand to hand fighting; David, on the other hand, was driven by both the power of hatred and sorrow which, added to his suit and his lack of care for himself, made him a dangerous opponent, the kind of opponent who paid no mind having a trident impaled on his belly, but at the same time the tackle from before had destroyedd his the firing mechanism of his helmet.
"You should have left when you killed the Trident!" Arthur screamed as they exchanged blows amidst falling pieces of debris, trying his best to push the trident deeper and kill his enemy.
"I'm not leaving until all of you are nothing but corpses on the sea floor, and your city lies in ruin!" David screamed back before kicking Arthur away into a wall. Screaming in anger he tore the trident off his belly, not caring the slightest about the had just worsened, and threw it at Arthur… his worst mistake.
Arthur, recovering from the previous attack, grabbed the flying trident by its handle, but instead of trying to spear David he used it as a makeshift bat this time, hitting David as far as he could. The nigh unbreakable trident, coupled with Arthur's already superhuman strength increased by adrenaline, became too much for David, who collapsed to the ground. Blood trickled from small openings on the helmet.
Seeing his opponent, the reason thousands of his people had died, laying there on the ground, Arthur reached for his head and began punching it with the stump of his left arm, and continued to do so, until the helmet of the man finally opened, the red light on its eyes dying out. Victorious, Arthur grabbed the sides of the hole and pried it open, using both hand and stump to do so, wanting nothing more to string the bastard's head like a fish and parade it around the city, so consumed he was by anger.
That feeling of hatred faded away when he saw a black man, bearded and brown-eyed, glaring at him from inside the helmet. One of his eyes was blood red, his lips were cut, and tears were pouring from a gash on his left temple, but he was still defiant even in the face of death. That, or simply insane. Both were equally possible given everything that happened. Or, even more possibly…
"Kill me." He whispered. "At least let me reunite me with my family."
Seeing him there, begging him to kill him. It also reminded him of what Doom Slayerhad told him to do. It wasn't an order, nor a command, but nonetheless after draining his anger with David and clearing his head, and simply seeing David lay there pathetically, Arthur decided that the beating had been enough. The real punishment would be decided by the surface's judges, not him.
Arthur sighed as he caressed his head his head and looked around. The fight had been so fierce that the house they had been fighting in was now little more than a pile of rubble. A small voice in his head whispered that many more houses had been destroyed, and those had to have corpses in them, but his decision had been made.
" KILL ME!" David screamed this time as Arthur grabbed him and hefted his body over his shoulders.
"I'm sorely tempted, but despite everything you and your army have done, that's not my decision to make." Arthur replied as he limped back to Doom Slayer. Arkantos and his men, seeing their monarch wounded but standing and carrying with the enemy leader over his shoulders.
"My liege!" "You are bleeding like a stuck tuna!" "You defeated the bastard!" And so on as they mobbed him.
Doom Slayer made his way to Arthur, the atlantans making way for the behemoth. "You did as I asked and didn't finish him."
"I really didn't want to, but then…" He trailed off befoe shaking his head. "Just… just send him to the Hague or wherever mass murderers are sent, dammit." Arthur growled out before tossing the man at Doom Slayer, who caught him with ease.
"I'm sorry."
Tired as he was, and as his men dragged him to the closest physician, Arthur didn't know if Slayer said that to him, or David, but at that moment he just didn't care: a a part of his city laid in shambles, thousands had been killed, many atlanteans (his half brother included ) would want vengeance on the surface, and he wanted to see if Mera was alright. He had a lot of work to do.
Hundreds of miles away, on the surface, John Constantine wondered how the fuck did he end up like this.
Another early chatper because of New Year's Eve.
So, the Atlantis arc has finished AND Aquaman's hook has a new origin, but Slayer has yet to tell Arthur the other reason he came, there will still be consequences for what has happened (including a political shitstorm), and something still undisclosed has happened to John. Does the resolution for the arc seem good for you guys? Did the 'he's gotta finish this himself' reasoning of the SI seem reasonable, despite?
Also, I've started another story, 'Seeds of War' a crossover/fusion between Halo and Command and Conquer, specifically the Tiberium series, and the basic premise is that the Covenant fights both the GDI and Nod, who take the place of the UNSC, and the war ends up more or less even rather than a somewhat one-sided genocide. It's just a chapter long, and a rather short chapter, but I'd like it if you gave it a look. No, this story is not going to be abandoned like the others, far from it, but the new story seems promising, so from now on I'll alternate per week
Recovery
In the end, several days after the attack on Atlantis, David was judged, condemned, and then executed, his body sent to his remaining relatives. During his trial, he never pleaded, never screamed, merely stared forward as the courts sentenced him to the gas chamber. With some luck, he may have ended in Purgatory.
With some luck.
His followers' remains, on the other hand, were dumped by the Atlantean army into a trench, not just out of callousness but because me and Grundy were savage enough in our slaughter that the identities of most of them just couldn't be identified.
But while many of those that followed him did so because of bigotry or greed, even more did so because of fear of a repeat of the Voyager, fear that if Atlantis and its people weren't destroyed humanity would drown, and a feeling that was too familiar to me: rage, hatred and pain, all combined and festering for months until they unleashed it on those who had nothing to do with the Red Trident.
I could have done more, I should have done more, should have been more attentive. But I hadn't, and that costed the lives of thousands, David himself included. Worse still, not that many people sans me, Arthur and a few others truly cared for his reasons for the attack, so the world at large saw him as another man turned villain I had to put down, even having a name for him: Black Manta, the Terror of of the Seas.
Things above the ocean only became more hectic when I revealed the involvement of several high-ranked officers of the Navy that smuggled both materiel and decommissioned submarines to David's cause, one of them even being a rear admiral of all people. I didn't bother to take care of them, the government did: most were sentenced to death for aiding a genocide, the rest thrown to prison to rot for the rest of their lives.
They all should have been killed to the last for what they did, but that decision wasn't up to me. I DID something about the political clusterfuck it caused, however.
Grundy and I decided to visit in the city several times, both to help repair the damage alongside volunteers from the surface, Clark and several workers from Wayne Enterprises included, and to continue our mission. While my help wasn't really needed, and Grundy actually helped more by tearing down those buildings too damaged to be safely repaired, the people were nonetheless grateful of our aid and that of the 'surface dwellers'.
Well, most of them were. Unfortunately, of those who weren't, there was one who was not scared of mine and Grundy's presence.
Orm, that stupid imbecile, refused to listen to reason and outright threatened to overthrow Arthur if he didn't attack the surface, ignoring the fact that the U.S Navy had sent three submarines carrying a hundred frogmen each, and trained in underwater combat, to both assist the Atlantean guard in the fight and evacuate civilians. If this response seems excessive, remember that Arthur had done his damnest to better the Kingdom's relationships with the surface, plus the fact that David could (from their POV) have just attacked a coastal town. He wouldn't have, but at the same time everything was possible from their point of view.
Unfortunately for him, his increasingly bloodthirsty attitude in the span of mere minutes and only a couple days after the attack, his callousness towards the relatives and friends of those killed by David's henchmen, and the fact he didn't even care about the Red Trident's own invasion, made both me and Arthur wonder… and by now you already know that making the Doom Slayer wonder about things doesn't end well.
That, and the fact that he always ended up becoming Ocean Master due to his hatred for the surface.
So, uncaring that he was his own half brother, Arthur asked me to, in his own words, 'probe his brain; I know you can'. I grabbed Orm, took both of them to the Fortress ignoring Orm's protests, and made VEGA enter his memories.
Guess who supplied the Red Trident, so secretly that not even his own brother realized it until it was too late.
There were images from Orm's own eyes where he gave military-grade weapons to atlanteans, overseeing the tortures of Fishermen, Brine and even atlanteans (a xebelian by his accent) before killing them himself, and finally giving a speech in a hall full of armored individuals about flooding the world above for their sisn, his vision inpaired by colored lenses.
He didn't just help the Trident, the bastard was its founder.
Arthur didn't scream at Orm, he didn't beat the hell out of him. He just glared at him for five seconds beforer plunging his new hook on his 'brother's' belly, then asked me me to patch the wound before throwing the bastard into a dungeon in Atlantis. There would be no Ocean Master in this universe.
He was still furious. And frankly, how couldn't he? His own half brother wasn't just the reason and catalyst Atlantis was assaulted, he was also an hypocrite. Soon, however, the fury gave way to depression. If even his own half brother, the one who he shared blood with, hated him for having been born in the surface, and by extension was the reason he lost is arm… He'd recover, but nonetheless even mentioning Orm soured his mood.
And yes, I said hook, just like in the cartoon, only this time it was me who forged it and grafted it on his arm, if with atlantean help and material. I actually told him I could regrow his arm, but he refused.
"It'll be a reminder of my failure." He said before giving another glance at his new weapon. "Besides, it'll make clearer to others that I'm not to be pissed off. Like you."
Months before it'd have been a snide remark, but now it was a genuine compliment.
And no, no one commented that it made him look like a pirate.
Then came the moment in which I told them about my mission, about the other reason I stayed on Atlantis, and which I found out just one day after the attack.
The baby. Yes, his son was the one linked with the Blue. Some of you might have found that obvious, and in hindsight it was, but I had to make sure it was the boy given fact Arella made the ritual sixty years prior."
Naturally, Arthur didn't belive me, not out of a genuine lack of understanding though; he just didn't want me near his son. He understood me, he respected me, and even kinda liked me, but also didn't want me near his son. That, and the fact he never, ever heard of Arella.
"You mean that a witch came here years ago and turned my son, a baby, into the avatar or whatever of the sea?" Arthur said as we (me and Clark) sat in front of him and Mera in a room on ins castle.
"All water actually, if Slayer's right about that, but otherwise you summed it up." Clark affirmed. Grundy was not with us, being as he was in the Fortress looking after Garfield; besides, his help was no longer needed.
Arthur looked between us before snorting. "Do you realize the fact Junior is only several months old, right?"
"Junior?"
"His name's Arthur too. Mera suggested it, right honey?" He said to her.
Mera, as previously stated, was with us, what with our business involving her child. She didn't take well that Arthur had lost his hand, even though she feared me, but other than that she was not exactly scared of me. Indeed, she actually fought several Red Trident infiltrators. Makes sense, given that Xebel was a bit more militaristic than Atlantis given its past.
That bravery was one of the reasons Arthur married her, the only being politics. However, it didn't surface when I decided to talk with her and Arthurr, or rather it did, but not because of her being scared of me, per se.
Her deliberately doing her damnest to not look directly at me gave it away.
"Mera?"
"Your majesty" I decided to ask. ", do you know about this?" Yes, my question was, as always blunt and straight to the point
Mera simply stared at me with a frown for several seconds, before sighing in defeat and looking down at Junior, who was asleep.
"My mother." She said. Seeing our confused stares, she clarified. "The woman, Arella, visited her when she was young and told her the same thing you told us about her daughter. As for why Junior and not me, I think it's hereditary."
Son, that explained why Garfield had the link with the Red, but not either of his parents.
"Why didn't you tell me of that?"
"She made her promise she wouldn't reveal it to anyone, my mother in turn made me promise, and besides it never came up until now. She never expected whatever she did to her to pass down to someone else, much less me." She admitted sheepishly. "Plus, you know how my people are when it comes to magic." She clarified again. For those who don't know, Xebel was the most technologically advanced of the Seven Kingdoms, and naturally did not like magic, not even the atlantean one.
"And you're afraid that I'll take your son away to my fortress, right?"
She nodded. "Will you?" She asked, unconsciously tightening her hold on her son. Arthur simply gave me a look between alarmed and wary, while Clark simply waited for my response.
I shook my head. "Not with someone so young, I won't. I took Grundy because people were scared of him and needed a better place to be than Slaughter Swamp, and Garfield had been alone for most of his life. The power to turn into large animals, combined with a lack of social skills, would make it impossible for him to be with normal people, at least until he's a few years older."
Arthur arched an eyebrow at that. "Garfield?"
"The boy I adopted several weeks before. He's the one linked with animal life. Solomon Grundy is one too." And so I explained Arella's ritual and how it worked, and my plan to dispel it."
After I finished explaining, Arthur grunted. "So, does that mean Junior will have to be prodded by some crappy wizard from England?"
"Oh, no, the process is very simple." True, originally that came from John's mouth, but the couple didn't know he was a drunkard. Or John Constantine. "The hard part, if it could be called that, is that Rachel's father is a creature so evil he's practically a demon in all but name, Hell inhabiting including, who wants Rachel to open a gate for him. And no, it wouldn't just be a threat for you or Junior, but for all of the universe."
Arthur stood up, angry, but not at me. "Count me in."
"Arthur?"
"He saved the city, wants to save the universe, showed me the traitors that nearly got all of us killed… and apologized for humilliating me when he really didn't have to, all things given." He then turned to me. "I don't care if I have to literally follow you to Hell itself and fight Satan. I owe you too much."
"I don't plan on fighting the demon, only to keep him in Hell and keep his filthy claws away from his daughter." I assured him. I would, but not before preparing. "All I need is to find the others and get John to disable the magic keeping Rachel hidden."
"John?"
"The wizard I've told you about."
Thing was, I hadn't seen John for several days. At first I didn't care, he had his own life and job, but after finding out about the Blue I decided to go directly to the House of Mystery (John could come to my home, I could go to his) to tell him about it, and if he had some luck himself… but found nothing. At first I thought he merely was away on a job, but then I asked Black Orchid. Her answer?
"John went to a job involving vampires in Las Vegas six days ago, and even though I can feel he's in peril, I've yet to find him."
So, John had been missing for some time, may or may have not been in dangerr, and not even his own house/landlord couldn't locate him.
VEGA only needed a physical description to find someone.
Later that day, back on the Fortress, I found John. He was bloodied, and his left eye blackened, but otherwise unscathed; not the first time he ended up like that, mostly after pissing off someone and not being quick enough to dodge. It was where he was and what he was doing what took me by surprise: a small, darkneded room full of computer monitors, and firring a submachine gun at something outside of the screen, respectively. A closer inspection revealed some kind of bracelet attached to his left arm. What the hell did the wizard get himself into?
"Wizard in trouble." Grundy grunted out.
"VEGA, hijack the closest computer to John." Yes, I did not think of rescuing him outright.
John didn't even seem to be surprised when VEGA's voice came from a screen next to him.
"Slayer, get me the fuck out of here!" He said before shooting at someone offscreen. "Can't explain now, just do it!"
Not bothering to speak to me, VEGA opened a portal to John's location. John promptly jumped through.
"Are you alright?"
He was too busy recovering his breath to call me out for not helping him sooner. "First, let me take a breather… Okay, breath recovered. It's going to be a very, very long story, and guess what? It involves a certain nob."
First chapter of the year. How do you think was it, too fast or generic in certain parts, like (I think, had to finish writing it) the ending? Also, do you want the next chapter to explain what happened from John's POV, or him telling it to Slayer?
Some Explaining to Do
"So." John began to say as he took a smoke. ", I think I have to start from the very beginning. Remember the Demons Three?"
I chortled, and not just because they were demons that I could not rip apart because John needed them, but also because I had met them one time in person. That's ONE time I didn't kill demons here. I am who I am, so needless to say I wasn't amused, especially given the three were exactly like all the others: utter scumbags deserving only of my fist up their asses, followed by their intestines down those very same asses.
On the other hand, I deeply enjoyed the sheer unease they had when they saw me, even though it was because they knew of me and what I had done to one of their friends, and not some intradimensional demon instinct. Scared 'em to the point one pissed himself.
"How can I not remember them?"
"Yeah, well, turns out they're a bit more willing than others to accept monetary payment rather than just guns, enchanted gold or souls… or maybe souls, I wasn't paying attention, what with having the shit kicked out of me."
Grundy and I stared at each other before looking back at John. "What happened."
"First, I spoke with Abnegazar and he told me to meet him at some pub in Woking. I knew I should have not gone the moment I found out it was that place, but he told he me had some critical need-to-know info on Trigon, something about his daughter. Sadly I was also drunk on my ass, so I didn't really consider the suspicious offer much before accepting. So, I go there, we trade hands the next… and then his walking shithouse of a brother comes out of a corner and conks me before I can do anything."
Grundy was disappointed, and to a point so was I, if only because we never expected John of all people to be captured like that. I also hid it better thanks to my helmet. "That it?"
"He's eight foot of muscle, and I didn't expect him to be there, what the fuck did you expect me to do?"
Grundy shrugged. "More? You wizard, you magic."
John groaned. "Nevermind. Okay, back to the story. I got knocked out, and stayed like that for a good while. Maybe it was magic, maybe drugs, maybe just a concussion, I don't know, but it was enough for them to attach this thing to me." He pointed at the bracelet he had. "It not only prevents magic users from casting, it also causes them unspeakeable pain if they still try to do it. It actually only stings them, but you know how am I."
The bracelet. Right, we had forgot.
I promptly grabbed the thing and tore it apart, careful to not hurt John.
"A bit late, but thanks. Anyway, guess whose phiz do I find looking at me ridiculously close? Lex motherfucking Luthor's of course!"
Lex Luthor. The man who had become half as obsessed with me as he was with Superman.
"You mean Rich Luthor?" Grundy asked. Nobody had told him of Lex's name until then, and he only knew of one famous person with Luthor as surname, so his confusion was understandable… even though he mispelled it.
"No, I mean German Luthor, the guy who basically made my job harder by being a pseudo-activist back in the Renaissance." John snarked before shouting at him."Of course I mean the rich, living and non-religious Luthor! Plus it's Luth er, not Luth or."
Grundy just shrugged. "Similar names."
I just sighed "John, please continue."
"So, Luthor managed somehow to contact the three and offered them a monetary reward if they brought me to him."
"You of all people?"
John shrugged. "It's not just from seeing me helping you in Barcelona. I'm not keen in trying to hide my presence, remember? And I told you already, for some reason this guy has connections, and not just of the demonic kind."
Sadly he was right: even after meeting me, most of the time John didn't really involve himself with the public, mostly dealing with the supernatural so he didn't see the need to mask himself. Plus, as John stated, Lex had eyes and ears across the planet. He probably already knew of John and his career, saw him with me, and connected the dots.
"For three days straight he tortured me: waterboarding, good ol' beating, the usual… all the while asking me things about you: your origins, your tech, what do you have planned, if you have any weaknesses he can exploit… the standard, really."
"You tell him?"
John gave Grundy a sardonic grin.
"I told him things he didn't need to know, scared him shitless: that Slayer's been watching him for a long time, that he can hack into his bank accounts and reduce him to rags, that unlike Big Blue he'd more than happy to arrange an accident…" His smile then soured. "'course, that only made him paranoid, and worsened the torture, but that face he made? More than worth it." His smile then disappeared outright. "Still, didn't change the fact it fucking hurt."
"But how did you escape? Your bounds, I mean."
John shrugged "It was really easy, actually. Years of being caught and tortured have made me learn a few tricks to get out of captivity, be it magical or mundane, and the guards'll go to piss sooner or later. Lex wasn't the first one to catch me you know, just the richest and most thorough with the beatings. Of course, I really didn't know how to escape the place itself, but I figured I'd find a way. Still, thanks for the save, you and the robot."
"You're welcome Mr. Constantine." VEGA replied.
So, Luthor wanted to know more about me, to turn me into one of his lackeys? I actually saw it coming, but not so soon, and in my head what he possibly had planned didn't involve John at all.
On the one hand, at least it hadn't been Waller, but on the other, Luthor seemed to just… ignore the many, many things I had done, and therefore the many ways I had to kill him, for lack of a better way to describe it. I could just expose him, or even worse… and yet, he still tried to try to get some use from me, even though he had only done so then.
But the look John had at that moment, just after finishing talking, was the look of someone who had commited the greatest mistake of their lives. And I noticed it.
"Anything else?"
John's looked at me with the kind of look someone had when they had, for lack of a better idiom for this, unleashed the apocalypse.
That, in the face of John Constantine. The man whose reaction to accidentally summoning a demon was to be his usual jerk self and kill it, and to hearing the ghost of a mother who had murdered her children to beg for its unlife take a whiff from his cigarette and send her to Hell where she belonged.
That worried me, and by a damn lot.
"John?" I asked, and his grimace got worse. "John, please, what the hell did you do?"
He sighed. "Normal torture is practically Tuesday to me, and crap like truth serums and hypnosis just don't work… but that bitch…"
"Bitch?"
"Some purple-haired slag on Luthor's payroll, dressed like some cheap whore too, but her magic… shit, that thing nearly got me. She entered my mind while I was recovering and…" He trailed off before wincing.
"John…"
"Supes, Bats, Flashie… Even the Pausanias kid and his dog girlfriend. He knows of them, their civvie lives and their headquarters, or at least what I understood." He then dropped his head. " I practically told his witch of everything that didn't involve you directly, your origin, the mission and all that. She didn't even bother to look at my life."
Grundy, who I hadn't told my real backstory, looked between both of us strangely when he heard that, but stayed quiet.
As for me, I couldn't blame John, his mind had been mindraped for information, and the fact he didn't tell everything even after torture spoke volumes of his will and determination.
Still didn't change the fact we'd have to deal with something else than Trigon's ambitions. And unlike Trigon, my new obstacle was not only on this very dimension, but had good publicity.
Lex Luthor now knew the secret identities of three of the most powerful heroes in the world, one of them a multibillionarine like himself, another just some forensic cop from Central City… and Clark Kent.
And, given the kind of man he was, I already had an idea of what Lex had planned, one that turned out to be pretty close to the mark.
Blackmail me to capture or kill my allies by threatening their families and friends. The fact that he'll had to get through the very same people he wanted me to attack to get at their families didn't fully occur to him, but at least one was in real trouble.
Overtly simple and petty when you think about it, but still didn't change the fact he could still go through it. The only one really safe from him would be Kara, and even Luthor had kryptonite still in store.
And all that meant he slipped by my radar. Could have stopped him, but I didn't, and so we were in a new mess.
One that I could still fix before it went
"John, do you think Luthor's witch could undo Arella's spell if she had access to the other avatars?"
"She could enter my mind and do some damage, so yes, I'm sure of it, but I didn't "
"VEGA, hack into LexCorp's database and see what they have planned, and send it to me. And tell the others that Luthor's men may pay a visit to their homes."
"Done, Slayer."
I was right, utterly right: just the day prior, Lex had hired several mercenaries to lead specialized teams, and sent those same teams to Gotham, Metropolis, Central City and Tokyo to kidnap the three's families. Fortunately, they would find a nasty surprise awaiting for them.
But first…
I turned to look at John and Grundy. "John, Grundy, let's pay a visit to Mr. Luthor. I think it's just fair to see him given how much, don't you think? Grundy, I believe it's time for you to be seen by the public." I then looked at John. "And I'm pretty sure you deserve some compensation from his rather underwhelming 'hospitality'." Again, I stared between the two "But no killing. At least not yet."
Both looked at each other and then back at me… and grinned.
Yes, Luthor's ambitions and lack of foresight were going to be the death of him… metaphorically speaking
I think I rushed this chapter, but on the bright side I released it early. So, yeah, I realized that Lex may in fact have eyes where not even a hypercomputer from a sci-fantasy universe could see them, and John isn't exactly blending with the crowd with that apparel of his. And yes, next chapter Lex's gonna receive a nasty surprise visit. As for why is Garfield missing even though this chapter takes place on the Fortress… he's sleeping. That's not a really shitty explanation either, kids his age tend to sleep a lot (he's gotten accustomed to be safe), and frankly, what else could he do?
Luthor's Fall
In LexCorp headquarters, Lex Luthor was having what many therapists and psychologists could call a 'mental breakdown' after receiving news of the mercenaries he had hired days prior.
It all went so, so wrong.
Those who went to a certain farm in Smallville and led by Corben (he still refused to forgive Lex for his predicament, but only he could supply with the kryptonite he needed to function) found themselves taken out by a certain smug red speedster, who after interrogating them and dragging them around for a few miles promptly threw them to the closest high security prison, and naturally taking the kryptonite from Corben.
Those who broke into a house in Central City and armed with devices specifically tailored for speedsters found themselves on the presence of a certain kryptonian, who merely frowned in annoyance when the startled mercenaries shot lasers at him. That said, unlike Flash he actually had to fight them given that Livewire was with them.
Those instructed to go Gotham City under the leadership of Sportsmaster to take the multibillionaire Bruce Wayne and his ward hostage were intercepted en route by the Batmobile as it rammed into their transport and, while the sport-obsessed maniac did manage to match the Dark Knight, the tide of the fight turned against them when Bagirl and Robin joined Batman.
Finally, those who tried to capture Spartan and Wolf Princess found out the hard way that the two not only had the made friends in the form of Saico-Tek and Mecha Boi, but had also taken a page from Doom Slayer's book and didn't bother to hold back with them, though to be fair they did go after the latter's family first.
It was all the same, however: Lex Luthor's plan to try and take those heroes whose secret identities he had found out had failed, and thoroughly so. He had made sure that the mercenaries didn't know the real reason of their mission, and to hide anything that could trace them back to him, but the damage was done: he could not longer capitalize on his newfound advantage.
Thing was, Lex didn't remember actually hiring any of them. As a matter of fact, he didn't even remember why did his men bring that haggard englishman to his secret bunker. Hell, he didn't even remember why did he acted like an idiot after finding out the heroe's real identities instead of laying low.
He did know, however, that said man had to be an acquaintance of the only man on Earth who'd be more than willing to kill him.
The man who he had realized too late that couldn't simply be controlled.
And then that pink-haired slut that promised him aid to deal with Superman just vanished, alongside three hundred thousand dollars in metallic. He didn't really care about the money, though, not after everything that happened… and would happen.
Just where did that bitch come from, anyway? And when would Doom Slayer come?!
'C'mon you big metal brute, what are you waiting for?'
Lex breathed deeply as he washed his face on his office's bathroom for the umpteenth time. The last few days had been a nightmare, knowing that Doom Slayer could just swoop in and punch his head off, or worse, just send Grundy in to deal with him. He had done that in Atlantis, it wasn't out of the question he would rip him apart. There was also the fact that Superman, or rather Clark Kent (he still couldn't believe the alien he hated and the reporter he loathed were the same person), had yet to do his goody two shoes act and take him to prison. Sure, he might not come out this time, but at least he'd be alive!
'Easy Lex, easy. He won't kill you, he can't kill you. You're just committed a kidnap-no, the accomplice of a kidnapping, yes. Plus some torture, but you can say you were forced to. Besides, you're Lex Luthor! One of the richest and most famous men in the world! He can't even come to your doorstep if he doesn't want to… to…'
Lex began to cry. "Oh, who am I kidding? He doesn't give a damn about the public's opinion or Superman's disapproval!" Terrified as he was he didn't realize he was pounding the sink. "You're dead, Lex! Dead, dead, dead, dead! All because that whore offered you help and like the trojans didn't realize it was a trap waiting to spring! Dead!"
He continued rambling the same word for half a minute until finally calming down somewhat, having vented (some of) his fear out.
"Okay, calm down Lex, you've been in worse situations." He said as he stared down at the sink. "Maybe Clark comes here and saves me from his wrath. He's supposed to, he's Superman, he supposed to do that, he can't just leave me at the tender mercies of that space marine and his freakshow." Hope began to arise on his chest, to the point he actually smirked. "Yeah, yeah! Superman will-"
"Oh, I'm afraid Big Blue is a bit busy at the moment." He heard a voice say behind him.
Lex rose his head to look at the mirror, to see who would be stupid enough to trespass into Lex Luthor's personal bathroom…
"Hello there!"
And found the leering face of the man those demons had given him days prior, the grinning face of a giant of a living corpse that could match Superman, so bing he could only fit his head through the door of the room… and the expresionless faceplate of Doom Slayer.
Standing just a few feet behind him.
'No, wait, I can see his eyes' He morosely thought. 'He's angry'
How the hell didn't he realize they'd been right behind him?!
"G'day there." The raggedy man greeted with the typical accent from someone that had been raised in the slums of London. Despite the jolly tone he used, though, it was clear by the sinister smile and the frowing brow that the man was not jolly at all.
Given that Lex had ordered his torture, he had every reason to not be happy.
For several seconds Lex stood there, frozen by fear and not knowing what to do, but eventually he worked up the courage to turn around and press the alarm button he had hidden on the sink's wall. The fact that neither Mercy nor his security personnel had no real way to deal with the intruders didn't occur to his fear-adled mind.
He was promptly slammed against the sink by a spectral hand, but the alarm sirens were already blaring throughout the entire building.
"Oh, cute, the little baldy who had me tortured for three days straight thinks his goons will save his ass. Still, it'll get annoying if they come."
Doom Slayer turned around and spoke to the giant.
"Grundy, deal with them. But don't kill them, or even cripple them. Don't want to paint him as the victim."
"You really think they're going to side with Luthor after what we did?" The smoker asked before shoving Lex against the wall. "And no, you shit, you don't get to know what we did."
"You'd be surprised. Besides they have yet to be fully downloaded." Doom Slayer replied.
They? Downloaded? Just what the thell did they mean with that?
The giant (who now he knew was Solomon Grundy) made a sound akin to a sigh of annoyance before nodding and pulling his head out of the bathroom. Lex heard and felt his lumbering footsteps as the brute made it's way across his office, breaking stuff along the way, before hearing the sound of glass breaking.
"He'll keep them busy for a good while." Doom Slayer noted. Just then, they heard the thundering roar of Grundy and the screams of terror of LexCorp's security army, peppered by shots and even artillery. "Of course Luthor would equip his security with military hardware, and in a city to boot."
"Just 'busy'?" His companion parroted, skeptical.
Doom Slayer shrugged. "As long as he doesn't kill them." He then turned back to Lex. "Now, it's time to talk, and trust me, you do not want to lie to us."
"I know nothing, I swear it!" No use to lying, else they might just murder him straight.
"The fuck you know nothing, your witch pried inside my head!" The man shouted at him before punching his face. "Had to fucking struggle just to keep her away from the important bits! I bet you still 'remember' that the Batman is also your company's biggest competition's CEO!"
"It was a-" Another punch shutted Luthor up, this one to the jaw.
"You talk when I say you talk!"
"John…"
"I know, I know we are not killing him, but c'mon, let me enjoy this! He fucking attached a car battery to my nipples!"
Mercy chose that moment to enter his office, kicking down the door with a rifle raised, several men behind her.
"Mr. Luthor-" That was the only thing she managed to shout out before Doom Slayer pulled out a pistol and shot her in the head, then the surprised security after.
"Mercy!" Screamed Lex in horror. Even though he saw everyone that was not him as more tools than people, Mercy was the only person he could really trust, if only to some point. They had also gone through several 'adventures', if they could be considered such. Seeing her being shot like some animal, just like that…
'John' smacked him in the head "She's not dead, you twat! Hell, despite really wanting to pay you back in kind, we're not going to kill either of you. Unless…" He looked at Doom Slayer with a hopeful look, but groaned when he received negatory shake of his head. "Just saying."
They were not there to kill him? Then maybe, just maybe, he could take advangate of this! He might come out alive after all!
"Y-you can't touch me."
Or maybe not. Why, just why couldn't he think before opening his mouth more?
'John' laughed. It was not a happy laugh. "First, I AM touching you. Second, you're going to wish I just touched you."
"Indeed."
Lex whimpered due to the simple fact that Doom Slayer agreed with this psycopath
"Fire everything we've got!"
"Already doing that, it's doing jack to him!"
"Keep firing! Luthor will have our heads if we don't fix this mess!"
'Little man, please, the mess is already unfixable. You're just prolonguing the inevitable' Grundy thought with a smile as he backhanded the first guy and stomped on the other, not killing them but still making them wish he had.
As he fought Luthor's priave army, Grundy had to remind himself that Slayer had told him to not kill nor main any of the idiots that worked for the billionaire.
That didn't mean he couldn't have his fun with them. After all, they willingly obeyed a man whose ego and ambitions had ruined the lives of many, and some even being happy doing that. They deserved some punishment for that.
And Grundy, after killing those people back in Atlantis, had grown fond of beating stuff up and scaring the hell out of someone for a good cause.
The facts they had battle suits and tanks, and that due to LexCorp's positioning in Metropolis there wouldn't be collateral damage, were pretty damn good bonuses in his book. He wasn't a masochist, he was simply annoyed by the lack of opposition given who owned the place.
Grundy, hearing the unmistakeable sound of rotors above him, looked up to see a news helicopter, obviously recording the battle below. Smirking, he raised a hand and waved, pretty sure that the people were enjoying the spectacle, or at least those not present. Indeed, there were a few dozens of people watching the event from nearby streets and buildings, not counting several police squads sent there to cordon off the area and hoping that Sperman could come.
They had yet to see what VEGA had done on… well, practically anything with a screen and connected to Internet. And indeed, Clark WOULD come, obviously… but Grundy wouldn't fight him.
One of the battle suits that had managed to survive until that moment shot its particle beam cannon at his back, doing nothing little more than stinging a bit and drawing his attention to it.
"Hmm, mech." He grunted. His grammar was getting better by the day thanks to being around people he could talk to, but it'll still be some time before he could talk normally if VEGA was right.
"Direct hit! No effect!" Just the fact he could heard the men inside the armor spoke volumes of their terror.
"No effect my ass, you took its attention!"
Grundy began walking at the mech in a slow manner, having not decided if either rip it open and throw them out or slam the entire thing against the ground. He grunted when he realized he had run out of imaginative ways that didn't involve death or permanent crippling. True, those that did were not that imaginative by themselves, but still.
As he debated with himself about what to do, Grundy didn't feel the ground beneath him shaking over it, not from his weight, but from something moving under it.
Just as he was about to reach the thing, something came out of the ground and coiled itself around the machine, causing its occupants to scream even more. At first Grundy thought it was some sort of tentacle and prepared to fight it, but then he took a closer look, and his eyes widened.
It wasn't a tentacle, or a snake, or anything like it.
It was a root.
Hearing the sound of something cracking behind him, Grundy turned to see a tree of all things standing behind him. It was one of those trees planted by the city to make the streets look prettier, he didn't really know, nor the species of tree. What he did know, though, was that the damn plant was actually standing out of the soil like a person, standing on several roots, one of which was underground and, by the distance and where it was aimed, had to be the one that trapped the battle suit.
Trying to test something, Grundy thought of raising the machine. Sure enough, the root did so, elevating the thing a couple feet due to its limitations. Still, it proved it could do it.
Grundy immediatly realized what did just happen and looked at his hands, astonished. Now of all times? Both John and VEGA did tell him that eventually he would manifest some kind of power given his status with the Green, but still, he didn't expect it to happen that way. Maybe he didn't do it before before because there weren't plants in Mars, and because the last place on Earth he had visited was underwater? No way to know without the wizard's help.
Still, he just found out he could control plants. Slayer would be pleased.
As he pondered over this, Grundy saw a shadow over him. It was Clark, who was looking down at him with a frown and his arms folded over his chest. This wasn't just because of Grundy, though, but also the fact that the man that hated him the most knew who he was. Still, it was obvious he wouldn't tolerate any deaths.
Fortunately, no one would die that day, not even Lex despite the dangers of leaving him alive, if Doom Slayer was being sincere.
Luthor's reputation, career and respect, on the other hand? Yeah, those were already dead.
"Grundy." Clark said as he laid down in front of him.
Grundy greeted him back. "Hello Superman. Here for big reveal?"
He saw Clark raise an eyebrow at his response. "Big reveal?" In truth he actually knew, but those behind him weren't. Grundy was asking just to keep up appearances.
The appearance of the Man of Steel was all the police needed to regain their bravery, and soon Grundy saw himself surrounded by several dozen officers. He merely gave them a nonchalant stare as they pointed their guns at him and the tree obeying him.
"Freeze Grundy, you're under arrest! Put back that… tree."
Grundy had to stop himself from huffing. Pretty sure they only did that little show of force of theirs with crooks they though they could take, what with Superman being nearly always within earshot. But he wasn't there to criticize them.
"Don't you have screens?"
"What?"
At their confusion, Grundy shrugged. "Luthor evil, Doom Slayer punishing him." He explained. In truth neither Slayer nor John had explained him what exactly would they do to him. "Oh, and revealed sins to entire world. TV, computer, anything, watch those."
The officers looked at each other, confused by Grundy's words. The one in charge, a tough-looking blonde, turned to look at Superman. "Dou you have any idea of what he's talking about?"
"Commisioner." They heard someone call. Looking back, they saw it was a youthful officer, probably a rookie. On his had he had one of those laptop things Grundy had heard about, very small computers. He was also very nervous about something. "I think you gotta see this."
Every crime that Lext Luthor had committed, paid someone to committ, or otherwise had been involved in. As in, every last single one of them: murder, fraud, human experimentation, forgery, perjury obstruction of justice… And a good deal of them related to Superman in some form.
And it was being broadcasted to every device with an Internet connection.
"Sweet merciful crap…" The woman breathed out. The others didn't voice their thoughts, but it was clear that all of them believed the same thing: they had been living with a veritable monster, one that managed to trick the entire world. Not that Lex Luthor was known as a kind, selfless person, but this?
Clark was about to reply when a by now familiar blue portal opened behind Grundy. Everyone looked in trepidation, knowing what this meant, and given what they had just seen…
From the portal came Doom Slayer, followed by Luthor. Grundy wasn't surprised by John's absence, the guy just hated being on the limelight given his career and antisociality. He was, however, confused by Luthor's expression. He expected the villain to blame Superman, call for his lawyer, scream for mercy, or something like that.
Luthor, however, didn't seem to be scared out of his wits, either because he had just met Doom Slayer face to face or because his life had been utterly and thorougly ruined. As a matter of fact, he seemed… ashamed, for lack of a better word to describe it.
And, if Grundy', shamed of himself.
Lex Luthor's following words would shake the world.
"Take me to a cell and throw the key away."
So, it seems that Lex's 'plan' might not have been fully his after all AND Grundy's long anticipated powere over plant life has finally surfaced. And what is the 'it' that VEGA downloaded?
A thing that came to my head after hearing the opening songs of animated Batman and Superman:
-Batman: supenseful, yet somewhat heroic (yes, THIS Batman is Arkham's, but the game is basically an adult adaptation of the cartoon).
-Superman: heroic, bombastic, lifting.
Doom Slayer's though? The PS1 port/DOOM 64 theme, because, in my personal opinion, I think it actually fits the SI more: darker than Batman's, sounds like a military march, and overall it's what you'd consider the theme/leitmotif of a space marine that kills demons. Also electric guitars.
Post-action Report
The broadcast that reached every screened device connected to Internet shook the entire world: Lex Luthor, philantropist, speaker and overall tycoon, being actually a monster who had ruined and destroyed countless lives in his pursuit of power and the destruction of Superman, and not just by inadvertently creating villains. The fact that I, Doom Slayer, had been the one who revealed this to them only added to the shock.
Then, there was what Luthor did after that: give himself to the justice system, give LexCorp and all of its assets to Wayne Enterprises (not sell, give), and make explicitly clear he would never, ever do anything again, feeling utterly remorseful for what he had done in the past, even apologizing to Superman in public and thanking me for showing the error of his ways before I threw into a cell.
They believed that I actually managed to realize what a monster he had been, to make him change his ways. Foster's opinion of me got even better. Wally even thought I had something akin to the Penance Stare that had made Luthor suffer every last bit of pain he had committed to others, and I didn't correct him.
The truth of what we did to Luthor is both far simpler and complex… and disturbing.
Luthor, unfortunately for him, was the kind of man who no matter the results, would keep coming and going no matter how much people like Clark wanted him to change, and brainwashing could be undone. That's a risk I didn't want to take, not in this universe.
Then there was also the fact he knew the secret identities of my allies. If someone were to capture him and pry into his mind for information (and unlike John, his mental defenses were rather useless)… Again, that was a risk I was unwilling to take. Sadly, despite his crimes, we didn't know if people would like for us to kill him: after all, he wasn't some thug or subaquatic terrorist, but a man who had very good publicity. Some would try their damnest to defend him and slander me, no matter his crimes.
Fortunately, John had the perfect solution for our predicament, one that didn't involve killing Luthor. Given he also still wanted to rip torture Luthor, then cut off the top of his head and eat his brain out of sheer hatred, that spoke volumes of his restraint.
That, or weighed between killing him and doing everything sans killing him to ruin his entire being, his sole reason of existing, and decided that the latter option was more satisfactory and petty.
So, instead of merely brainwashing him with either science or magic, we literally took his brain and duplicated it, filling it with a new personality that was essentially all the goodness Luthor had on him taken from him, condensed and then enhanced with lots of guilt, empathy, and overall a lack of what could be considered evil. John told me that this would also permanently change his soul which was, of course, a bonus for the both of us.
No, we never told the others we did this. Karmic as it was, that would have irrevocably destroyed our relations with most of them.
As for the original brain? I gave it to Grundy to do whatever he wanted with it. It had no body nor a mouth, but you can bet it screamed in pure terror when Grundy buried it in a plant pot. Yes, it died.
Oh, right, I forgot about Grundy. He finally began to show signs of the Green. John guessed that it happened like that because there were no plants in Mars that he could control (although that doesn't explain why he couldn't back at Slaughter Swamp). Logical, Garfield had been living among animals for all his life and so he didn't need some 'awakening' or something like that to use his power.
Naturally Bruce was understandably wary of the fact that one of the world's most powerful creatures had begun to become even stronger, but I reminded him that Arella had chosen him for a good reason. He still didn't seem so sure, so I had to promise that if Grundy stepped over a line, I'd put him down. I was lying through my teeth however.
Finally, there was the 'purple-haired skank' that had mindraped John for information. It turned out that Luthor had been mind-controlled by her to some point, what with not remembering making a deal with the Demons Three or even ordering the would-be kidnappings. She had to be moderately powerful too, given that John wasn't known.
I had an idea of who this woman was despite having one barebones description of her: Tala, the witch that, in the cartoon continuity worked for Project Cadmus, and a pupil of Felix Faust.
She was also powerful enough to resurrect Darkseid out of spite for Luthor. Now she knew about the others, and while John swore he didn't reveal anything about Rachel, I was still unsure. Worse, because the only physical information I had of her was her hair color, VEGA couldn't pinpoint her location, and she seemed to have a unscrying spell to keep herself away from prying eyes.
At least until John stated the obvious solution… and the need to get more payback on the ones who had handed him to Tala in a silver platter.
"NO MORE! PLEASE! PLEASE!!!" Abnegazar screamed as Slayer began to slowly crush his crotch. His arms and legs had already been torn out, and Constantine had outright screamed about it at first, but this was what made clear that he wouldn't merely return to Hell if he didn't speak.
His brothers could do nothing but watch and scream in horror, trapped in their summoning pentagrams, as the giant of a man began to slowly rip Abnegazar apart, piece by piece, knowing they'd be next unless they spoke.
"I'LL TALK, I'LL TALK
"Then start talking, bitch!"
Demons or not, Abnegazar and his brothers were still beings of flesh and blood. Therefore, they could feel pain if afflicted with the proper spells. Most of all, though, they hard heard of me and my exploit, and so feared me.
Therefore, the torture and I and John put them through after summoning, then capturing them worked.
And yes, that was the end of the Demons Three. You don't bring John Constantine to a torture chamber and not expect him to make sure you can't do that ever again. Them being demons helped.
So, now we had a complete physical description of Tala. Even though she didn't appear in any database, that'd be enough for VEGA to find her, it'd just take some time. Still, the discovery and the lead still didn't change the fact someone out there knew the identities of Superman, Batman, Flash, Spartan and Wolf Princess, and knowing the last two would be nothing compared to what would happen if the other three came out.
None of the heroes took the news well, and once more, it was Bruce who was the most incensed that, somewhere in the world, there was someone who knew who he was by night and his family and friend's identities, and who not even my AI find in a short time, and the only one who might have a better lead had just started her own career as a magician. Nonetheless, they acknowledged that nothing more could be done at the moment. Besides, we showed them an image of Tala.
Tala. This brings us back to the topic: why did she do it? Who or what was she working for? Not Cadmus, nor other secret organization. John guessed she was in cahoots with Trigon, but I wasn't so sure given what little I knew of her. So, why did she do it?
The truth ended up being being far from it… but also close to the one we were searching for.
LexCorp possessed technologies that would have helped the entire world, but because of its CEO those that weren't weapons of some kind were either left to gather dust or guarded so that no one could use them. Bruce and I promptly began searching through those that had more benign applications. Unlike before, he didn't raise a fuss when I took some of them, knowing that they'd be safer and away from those who'd use them for evil in the Fortress.
But the one that was… was also the thing I had been testing on Mars for several months.
The knowledge to achieve nuclear fusion.
Lex's engineers and physicists had finally managed to unlock the secret of nuclear fusion, but despite Luthor being Luthor, he didn't do anything with it that could make him even more beloved, and in fact feared it, to the point he actually had the people involved killed. The problem, of course, was that it had been commissioned by one of the most hated men in the world, and people being people, they would refuse to accept something so powerful made by someone so evil.
But what if Doom Slayer was the one to offer such a gift to humanity?
It was time for Earth to take the next step.
Another short, released early chapter because, well, read the paragraph below. So, the 'giving fusion to Earth' seems to have reached its turning point, even though it didn't come from the tests on Mars… but that's still nothing compared to the discovery of a third party represented by at least Tala that wants to stop our heroes in their tracks… for one as of yet unknown.
Those who only like the latest chapters, could you also please like the previous ones?
Finally, I'm putting the story on hiatus. No, I'm NOT going to abanding it, not with everything I have planned, it's just that I've been writing this non-stop for half a year, and even after lengthening the posting days it got a bit overwhelming, I want to focus a bit more in Seeds of War and YET ANOTHER (yeah) D self insert (Tales of Savagery, this time not a reincarnation SI; it's only two chapters long, though), and besides I'm going to need some time to see how to write the next arc.
Manors and Magicians
Fusion energy.
Doom Slayer had gifted Earth the capacity of building a fusion reactor, and incidentally broke the tendency of weaponizing gifts. He essentially put the power of the Sun on their hands. And all because, if he was being sincere with them, they had 'reached the level', a phrase that few, if anything, knew the meaning of his words. Some people, however, did understand what Slayer said. Earth had had the technology to create fusion reactors for several years, but the men or companies that had that knowledge didn't share it with the rest of the world for several reasons, all of them radiating from the general belief of humanity not being ready to use such power, given that the only real use they had until that day was in the creation of thermonuclear weapons. Add in a disaster like Chernobyl, and it was easy to understand their reluctance.
Doom Slayer's actions, and him being Doom Slayer, proved that they could use it.
As for how a fusion reactor worked, it's simple: the design provided several times more power than a regular fission reactor, and required deuterium to work rather than uranium, but it wasn't that much bigger, making it more efficient.
Maybe a coincidence, maybe out of symbolism, Slayer asked the ones in charge of the project to build the device and the power plant it would be housed in New Mexico (others would be built on those countries able to afford one, but that one would be the first one and testbed for the others).
Naturally not everyone in the world saw his actions approvingly, and not just those who still believed man could not be trusted with such power, ranging from his usual opposers, to energy magnates who saw the profit their companies made drop dramatically in the future, to simply people who did not want something so unsightly in their homes.
But as always, Doom Slayer ignored them and their pretentiousness, while assuring those whose concern was genuine. In the end, however, the history of Earth had changed forever.
And it would only keep changing.
To be honest, I expected more people around the world to react to the fact that I just gave them something some had only thought of in their wildest dreams, but in the end the excitement and amazement died out, which given the kind of world this Earth is made sense. Meanwhile, I helped build the first reactor in New Mexico.
After that it was time to return to the search for Rachel. At that moment we only had the Green, the Blue and the Red, but John's kidnapping and Tala's intrusion, to put it mildly, threw a wrench into our plans. No longer could we just go for the other links to the Elemental Realms knowing that a powerful magic user was out there.
It was time for John to do his part of the mission… but with only three links, he couldn't do it himself, no matter his experience: his magical pool was simply not big enough for it.
Fortunately, Bruce knew of someone who turned out to be lacking in skill, but an order of magnitude higher than the vast majority of witches, sorcerers and mages out there. All we needed from her was a bit of her power, and John would do the rest.
Sadly, she also realized what I was the moment she laid her eyes on me.
Who'd ever thought that the stage magician Zatanna Zatara turned out to be an actual witch? Or was it mage? Anyway, she could do magic, real magic! Not that she didn't love doing her usual tricks, but pulling a rabbit out of a hat without a top had to be the oldest, most boring 'magic' trick in the world, one that she got tired of performing (not so her audience).
But pulling a tiger out of a normal hat? One that was supposed to be riding a unicicle in Las Vegas? Granted, the entire thing ended with her covered in claw marks, but still! And all that from speaking backwards!
Then, one day, her father called her because he had detected her awakening from afar… and did so after using some magic portal thingy to go to see her face to face. It turned out that her father had been a true wizard himself, but had to abandon his path for several reasons, almost none he told her of aside from meeting her mother.
And then several days after THAT, out of the blue. Bruce told her he was Batman, THE Batman! The man that she had had a crush on before leaving it on just friends was also the Dark Knight! And instead of just keeping the truth to himself like he had done for years, he just revealed it to her! That… alright, she didn't really understand why did he do that.
A couple of months after that, Bruce told her to meet him on his manor, telling her that it was an urgent manner. The fact that Bruce of all people said it was urgent was enough for her to cancel the show of the day and race to Wayne Manor, still wearing her fishnets and leotard. What could be pressing enough that Batman required her help, she didn't know, but was more than happy to help him out.
She met Bruce, who was already awaiting for her on the gate of the manor, and after some small talk and asking about his call and receiving a vague response about 'guests', followed him inside, where she saw firsthand the previously mentioned guests.
One was a raggedy blonde man who whore a leather jacket and blue jeans, smoking a cigarette and smelling both of tobacco and alcohol even at that distance, and who at that moment was exchanging insults with Alfred about Shakespeare and Glasgow, and not in a good way going by Alfred's annoyed expression. Judging by his accent, he was a fellow englishman, but the kind that spent their lives screaming at TV and throwing beer bottles at it.
"And I'm telling you, Mr. Constantine, that James the Fourth can not be a descendant of Macbeth. And could you please smoke outside?"
"My arse he wasn't! It's too damn obvious to be otherwise! And last time I came you didn't care!"
"Because last time you didn't smoke at all."
"Don't deviate from my question you ponce!"
Zatanna had to stop herself from reeling, even though the guy could be considered handsome with that rugged face and blonde eyes of his. He seemed to be the kind of man who wanted to deliberately make himself loathed by everyone just by existing.
But when she laid her eyes on the other guest… she froze.
After all, she never expected Doom Slayer of all people to be there.
Technically she had helped him before by giving Bruce a magic detector from her father to help them on their search (she didn't tell anyone she didn't make it), but again, only through Bruce.
Thing was, it wasn't just his sheer size and unmoving posture what freaked her out. She couldn't really see what exactly was coming from Slayer, but she knew what it was: power, and not in the sense of being super strong (which admittedly he was), but in the sense of emanating mystical energy like some sort of magical nuclear reactor, a powerful reactor. And she still didn't understand much of real magic.
"Excuse me, I need to, er, take a breather." She said before walking out of the living room. Then, she leaned on a wall. "Damn."
"Zatanna?" She heard the deep voice of Bruce ask. She didn't bother to question how didn't she heard him. "Are you alright?"
"Don't worry, I just needed some air."
Naturally, Bruce wasn't so sure. "Are you sure?"
"You're showing concern now, Bruce?" She chuckled. "I'm sure, it's just… Doom Slayer, here, in your house!"
"Are you afraid of him?"
Zatanna snorted. "Of course not." But Bruce kept frowning at her. "Alright, but not because he'd kill me or anything, I'm past that. I'm barely five point five, and he's two feet taller than me and built like a tank, and that's without taking into account what he did last week. And now I'm meeting him in person. Me, some magician from Gotham. I think I have a right to be overwhelmed. So, Doom Slayer wants my help, doesn't he?"
"Pretty much, but it's more like he needs your assistance."
"Is there a difference?"
"You might not be able to help them directly."
Zatanna lifted an eyebrow in confusion. "Then why does he need my help?"
"It'd be easier if you asked him yourself. Believe me, it's complicated, even for me."
Confused, Zatanna entered the room again, and this time the raggedy man was also sitting, if still giving a side glance to Alfred. Doom Slayer
The giant man approached her, and Zatanna noted with some trepidation that he seemed even bigger up close. And then he spoke. Hearing him speak talk in person and not through a screen was a sobering experience. That said, aside from being obviously deep and baritone, his voice had nothing else special about it. Maybe that's how he somehow being special in everything else?
"Miss Zatara, this" He said as he gestured to his companion. ", is John Constantine, my confidant and the one who will tell us if you can aid us."
The man, now named Constantine, stood up and got close to Zatanna, and began inspecting her with his sight… and nose. At least he didn't touch her. "Yep, she's got it, but still smells like cheap perfume. And also you look like some corner tart with those things on, did you know that?"
Understandably, Zatanna didn't like his comment. "Says the one who looks like drunk Columbo. And Bruce called me right in the middle of an act, didn't have time to wear someting more covering."
"Drunk, ghost-fighting, demon-banishing, dogless and british Columbo, thank you very much." Constantine replied, ignoring her last sentence. "Well, technically I have a dog, but he's also a kid, and he's yet to actually turn into a dog." He then turned towards Slayer. "Has he?"
"He can turn into an african painted dog, so yes."
"Wait, you mean you're a father?" Zatanna said, surprised by the fact such a jerk could be a parent. Only…
"Of course not, he is." Constantine said as he pointed at Slayer. "I'm more of that uncle who's forced to smoke out of the main hall because the overbearing daddy doesn't want little Tarzan boy to grow with the smell of tobacco, and because the houseguests don't like it either I have to do it on a dank, dark cave underneath the surface, where I am the one risking asphyxiation. And the only time he allows me to take a whif is after I nearly got killed by Baldy." As calmly as he said it, it was obvious the englishman was ranting.
Zatanna, however, was too busy looking at the future man with wide eyes. Doom Slayer, the same Doom Slayer who had proved himself to be more than willing to kill his enemies in a brutal manner, was a parent? And was raising the kid on his Fortress of all places alongside Solomon Grundy (and a chainsmoker and drinker too)? When did that happen? Hell, how did that happen?
"You're lucky I don't force you to the surface proper." Slayer said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "The couple doesn't like it either, remember?"
Zatanna merely looked at Bruce, who in spite of himself actually rubbed the back of his head. "It's a long story."
"Alright." Constantine said as he clasped his hands and looked at Zatanna. "Let's stop fucking around before I get riled up. First, your spellcasting. I've been told you pulled a tiger, a living breathing one, out of your hat. How did you do it?"
"By spelling words backwards."
Constantine raised an eyebrow at her response, clearly confused. "Really, just like that? Not absentminded gestures or anything else, just subliminal messages?"
"I've always said phrases or words backwards when performing my magic tricks. Never knew I was the real deal." Zatanna replied in a defensive tone. "And how do you do magic anyway?"
"By doing hand gestures and saying stuff in latin. At least that's how I do it. Anyway, give us a private show, twist our brains or something like that. I need to see it with my own eyes to gauge you."
"Don't tempt me."
Zatanna began to think about, well, what trick she could do with actual magic, and naturally found none. And then she remembered, and a thought came to her mind, one that made her smile a mischievous smile. Incidentally, that same smile made the englishman frown.
"You better not think about burning my hair or something like that. Last one who tried ended up bald."
Zatanna didn't bother to give him a straight response. " Ecin llems nam yllems ekam!"
At first nothing happened, but as Constantine opened his mouth to talk, he then caught a whiff out of himself. "Well, colour me impressed, it worked, can't smell the scent of nicotine and alcohol. Could have done something more impressive, but it worked."
"I give it a day, maybe two before your stench comes back." Alfred deadpanned.
"Maybe I take you to sleep with Grundy instead, twat. I bet you wouldn't last-" The wizard managed to get out before Bruce interrupted him.
"John, stop it, please, and leave Alfred out of your spats."
Constantine threw his arms in the air before turning to Zatanna. "Fine, fine, I'll stop it. Anyway, this proves it: she's the one that we seek."
"Before you go on" Zatanna began to say, arms crossed. ", could you guys tell me a bit more about, well, everything? Because I'm pretty sure you haven't told me anything yet. All I know is that Bruce called me to come here and, well, that's it."
"First things first then. You radiate mana like one of those expensive batteries from Germany, which in this case is a good thing."
"So, you're saying I'm like a living reactor of magic." She said, trying her damnest to not look at Slayer.
"Pretty much, yeah. With some practice you could be pretty much the most powerful magic user on Earth, or at least among those, but that's not why we called you here. Remember the magical counter thingy you gave to Bats here, and he to us?" He said, earning a nod from her. "Did he tell you what did we need it for?"
"Of course, to help you in your search for Solomon Grundy."
"Yes, but did Bruce tell you why did we want to find Grundy?
"To try and make him join you? Because that's what he did."
Constantine and Doom Slayer exchanged a glance. "Not exactly. It was more of a secondary objective, really." Slayer replied.
And so Constantine and Doom Slayer told her about his and Doom Slayer's goal, about a plot that covered over a hundred years, about ancient magic linked with the forces of nature, and the forces of Hell doing their damnest to cross into Earth.
"You're saying that this… Arella woman linked several people in the past to make a spell that would hide her daughter's essence to hide her from her demon father?"
"There are more of them out there, but we're running out of time, and I can't do much without them and the power they hold."
"And the reason you need me even though I'm not experienced with magic at all is…?" She inquired.
"We want to use you as a battery for me for a spell that may or may not kill you if done carelessly." Constantine responded. Seeing her bewildered expression, he shrugged. "You asked."
Well, at least he was being honest.
The story's back from the hiatus I think I rushed the 'nuclear fusion reactor', but let's be honest, that plot bunny had to leave. Nonetheless the SI giving the knowledge for the world to make theirs does have an impact, it's just not important to the story (at least for now).
The Ritual
"Do you really need to draw a goddamn pentagram?"
"Blame the modern church for chaning their meaning and devil worshippers for following suit, not magic for using them." John replied as he did the finishing touch for the ritual, the pentragram where Zatanna would stand on to transfer part of her magic to him. "Besides why the fuck do you care? You guys worship Neptune, not the god with capital G."
"I was raised christian. And it's Poseidon, not Neptune."
"Poseidon, Neptune, they're literally the same god with different names, who the fuck really cares about differences." John said with a scoff.
"Some people in the Kingdoms do see a difference, and could you please be a bit mindful of your language? There are children here." Mera asked him, annoyed at his lack of manners around children.
Three days after talking with Zatanna, we went to Atlantis instead of conducting the ritual in the Fortress both as a gesture of good faith to the Monarchs, because we'd have more help in case something went wrong, and something that John said about being 'close to the Realms'; Zatanna was ready to be used as a booster, Grundy was ready, and the others were here just in case something wrong happened. All that was left to do was letting John do his magic… and hope that keeping him away from alcohol for three days straight and administrating his system with enough nicotine to supply a cigarette machine would keep him steady and focused for at least a full day.
"Children don't really understand words until after a year, and Garfield has already gotten used to Mr. Constantine's habits." VEGA said from my suit's speakers to reassure her.
"You hear the robot butler; kids these days just don't care about language." John said as he stood up from the pentagram. "Not exactly a bad thing all things given, but hey, I'm not really into raising children.
"And what about us?" Grundy rumbled from his spot on the room, sitting cross legged for some reason that evaded me. He had gotten much better at speaking normally.
"Ritual's coming soon enough, just wait for it Grundy." He then looked at Zatanna, who was standing nearby, and dressed in more appropiate clothes. "As for you, I'm going to prepare you for the ritual."
"How, exactly?"
"Positions, stance, a little spell here and there… You don't understand magic yet, so be happy I'm giving you a test." He said before walking aside. "C'mon, follow me."
Understandably, Zatanna didn't really like his, well, attitude. "Mysogisnt jerkass!" She growled before following him. Too bad for her that John was actually more of a misanthrope; she just happened to be a woman who he had seen first dressed in corset and fishnets and coming from a cheap stage show, and thus leaving a bad impression. Her also being actually more powerful in sheer magic power despite not knowing how to use it, yet also having a skilled wizard father may also had a part on his annoyance towards her.
John was being difficult as always, that is all.
Clark couldn't help but chuckle at that. "One of these days John will piss off someone willing to smack his face."
"He already has, several times, but those didn't end well for either party. So, how are you and your companions doing back at Metropolis after Luthor's defeat?" Yes, defeat, there was no better way to describe it.
Clark hummed. "It's gotten pretty quiet since Lex was sent to prison, maybe even too quiet aside from small things like robberies and accidents." He then frowned. "That may explain a lot of things actually. Imagine if I had done what you did sooner, many people would have happy lives… or be alive at all."
I put a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. "You couldn't do anything against him, not if you wanted him to actually realize the pain he had caused instead of a more direct approach, and besides, I doubt he would have accepted penance if you had been the one offering it to him."
"Yeah, Clark, Luthor was one of those guys who needed a firm, armor-plated hand. Geez, never expected to walk underwater. Admittedly is less exciting than I thought, but still, better than a submarine." Wally added as he looked up before turning back to me. "Say, how did you really do it, by the way? Make him change his ways? I think I've already asked, but I might have not been listening."
"After scaring him into submission, John used his magic to make Luthor feel every bit of pain and anguish he had caused. Even the most ruthless monster in the world could break from feeling so much agony in every part of his soul." Naturally I was lying through my teeth, but again, they didn't need to know the truth.
It was at that moment when Garfield, bored of doing nothing while waiting for John, decided to approach the atlantean couple. He had seen something interesting, more than the watery 'sky' he was underneath of
"Hello there." Mera greeted him with a smile as he approached her.
Garfield, however, was too fixated on Junior to greet her back, eyes wide in amazement at the sight of someone younger than him.
"Baby?" Yes, Garfield had learned how to speak english, but still didn't do it much.
"Don't worry, I've taught him in interactions with other people, he's merely fascinated by your son being the first human he has ever seen younger than he is."
"Oh, I'm not worried." Mera said with a smile as she grabbed Garfield and put him on his lap; he didn't resist. "I always liked children even before having Junior. Maybe I even learn something for when he's Garfield's age."
Arthur then approached us, his arms folded over his chest as he looked at Mera try to get Junior to grab Garfield's finger.
"So, you are a father." Arthur said as he watched Junior and Garfield interact. "Never expected you of all people taking care of a child."
"He had no one else to look after him permanently, and given his appearance and the fact he was feral, I didn't want to give him to someone else that might have not taken well to him, living relatives included. Plus, this is a safe environment for him, one where he can use his power at leisure."
"He's been with Ayame's cousin and her boyfriend though, hasn't he?" Clark chided in.
I snorted. "They like him, but the first time he was much of a hassle. Have in mind their younger cousins are literal dogs most of the time."
"I told you you could leave Garfield with my parents, they wouldn't mind babysitting the boy."
Before I could point out to him that his already old parents might not be able to handle someone like Garfield, Arthur stepped in. "You said you found him living by himself in Africa."
I nodded. "He had been alone on the Congo Basin for four years before I found him, nearly feral and living in a cave."
"And his parents? Let me guess, they abandoned him after finding out what he could do." He said with a scoff. "Of course."
I shook my head, but before I could speak Bruce, who had Hephaestus magic globe on his hands just in case, got ahead of me. "According to Slayer, the entire expedition was killed by something. Garfield either escaped or wasn't there when it happened, he doesn't remember anything." He then looked at me. "At least according to Slayer."
I said nothing back, he had the right to question me, but I had to stop myself from clenching a fist. Sometimes, not that many mind you, he had to remind me that he didn't fully trust not like me. Again, he had the right to being like that, but that didn't mean it didn't annoy me, to say the least.
"He might, but the memories may be too distorted, and besides I don't really want to see into the mind of someone so young and risk doing damage."
Arthur's eyebrows rose as he realised he had just spoken ill of the dead, albeit unknowingly. "Oh. "
"You didn't know." I said with a shrug.
"I'm finishing over here people!" John hollered from across the room. "Mis Aqualass, could you kindly give the kid to Grundy? It's easier if the three are together in a single place!"
Mera, after sharing a look with Arthur, stood up and approached Grundy, but despite everything she had a look of unease.
"Just be careful with them, alright?" She asked Grundy, who nodded. "I know they're in safe hands, and Garfield isn't my son, but still, one is never sure."
"Nothing will happen to the boys as long as I hold them." Grundy promised as Mera put Junior on his huge, open hand. "And besides, I've been living with Garfield for a good while." He then walked to the center of the pentagram and sat there.
Garfield, however, stayed where he was, still unsecure of what he would be doing.
Knowing this, I pulled off my helmet and stood on one knee to look at him directly.
"Scared?" I asked him, to which he nodded. "You'll be fine."
He looked at Grundy, then back at me, and nodded before going with Grundy… but not before rubbing his face against mine. That may confuse and even disturb some of you, but remember, despite me teaching him about Earth and human body language (among other things) Garfield didn't fully understand the meaning of embracing someone yet; last time someone that, and even though it was a surprise embrace, he nearly clawed Akane's eyes out. Besides, I actually felt insecure about hugging the boy given my size and strength.
"Aww, Little Green doing the Simba with Big Green." Wally said with a smile after seeing us.
Both Clark and Bruce rose an eyebrow. "'The Simba'?"
"You know, when lions show affection for their kids, rubbing heads and all that. I mean, they don't have hands, and hugging is a primate thing. Other cats do that." Wally explained. "Ok, I just made that one up, but still, cats rub heads to show affection, and besides, isn't it fitting?"
"If that two pennied magician lets something happen to my son…" I heard Arthur mutter low from behind me.
"I'll be the first one to rip. Remember, he's playing with my son too."
"I heard that! Alright, floor's already painted, the magician's ready, ball's glowing and I'm riled up for some magic!" John exclaimed as he and Zatanna finished the preparation.
"Zatanna, are you ready?" I asked her as she got in position, one of the points of the pentagram that supposedly pointed towards Earth. Even then I still didn't fully understand how magic rituals worked.
"I think so, yeah. Still, will this hurt?" She asked John as she turned to him.
"Of course it will hurt, but as long as everything goes as it should, that should be the worst of it."
" Should?" Zatanna asked in a wary tone.
"What happens if there's a mistake or something goes wrong?" Bruce asked, obviously worried for what could happen to his friend.
John merely shrugged. "Best case scenario, she pops her clogs without a sound; worst case, she screams like a banshee and explodes and kills us all. As a matter of fact she'll still scream due to the pain of having part of her magic being transferred to another vessel, but she'll live."
Half a minute later, John was speaking the first words of the ritual, a magenta line starting to form between him
"I'm starting to change my mind about this!"
"But does it hurt?"
"A little, yeah!"
"Good, that means it's working! No time for chickening out now, sweetheart, else you die!"
And then Zatanna screamed as the trail of magic glowed brighter. John's eyes began to glow, and then, after saying some other words, he opened his hands and aimed them at the trio, whose bodies also began to glow in the colors of the Elemental Realms they were linked to, and starting the ritual proper.
Garfield and Junior started to cry out in fear (and believe me, not only I had to physically stop Arthur and Mera from going in, but also force myself to stay there), but then felt silent as Grundy… grunted, eyes closed and face expresionless. It was as if Grundy had a calming presence, maybe because he made them feel protected, maybe because the Green gave him some kind of calming property, I didn't know: all I knew was that they suddenly became calm.
And then, after a minute or so, the three began to glow brighter and brighter, to the point I had to cover my eyes, before a wave of green, red and blue energy practically exploded from them and sweeped across the room engulfing us, even forcing Wally to the ground, before dispersing as quickly as it came.
Just like that, it was over.
"That's it?" Wally groaned as he stood up. He had been caught off guard by the sudden burst of magic. "Kinda underwhelming for a world-spanning spell."
"Magic works in strange ways. Sometimes it creates an amazing display of lights and color worthy of a Disney film, others it basically creates what for all intents is a stonker, if a loud one." John replied as he dusted himself. "But, hey, better than a nuke or worse. At least it went smoothly."
"Sorry to interrupt" We heard Zatanna say from her spot, splayend on the ground. ", but could someone please help me stand. I feel like I've been forced to run a marathon with Mister Smokebreath screaming behind me."
John opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it and decided to help her stand up.
As for us, we were checking out the children, but it didn't seem there was need for it: even Junior seemed more amazed than anything, despite being, well, a baby. Grundy, on the other hand, groaned as he lifted a hand to his forehead.
"Are you guys alright?" Clark asked Grundy.
"Did you feel something, anything from the spell?" I asked Garfield.
"It felt funny."
"It was… strange. As if something took my conscience and made it cross the world in a single second before taking me back." Grundy replied. "Weird, yet incredible at the same time."
"Look." Bruce called out, holding out the bronze sphere of the world that Hephaestus gave to me. "It's glow has mostly disappeared."
He was right: the bronze sphere no longer had the glow that indicated the presence of magic across its surface, sans for a small, tiny spot of black that remained. The spell that disguised Rachel's magical signature had finally disappeared, finally showing us her current location, some point in the Middle East.
Naturally, John didn't take well to the news.
"Are you fucking kidding me?! She's been right under our noses all this time?!" He screamed. The guards chose that moment to run in to see what the hell happened, but we were busy hearing John to care about them.
"None of us knew about this until now, John."
"Doesn't change the fact we could have just gone to fucking Persia and find her by sheer luck!" He shouted before sighing and forcing himself to calm down, even raising his hands. "You know what, I'm not going to get pissed off about this."
Nonetheless, our search had finally come to an end: we finally had the location of Rachel, and everyone that could help was with us. Not even Trigon's strongest monsters attacking at that moment would stop us from reaching her. So centered I was on that, I didn't realize I didn't really have an idea over what would we do after meeting Rachel face to face, or how the encounter with might go, or even take care of Tala. Again nonetheless, things seemed to go smoothly for us.
At least, that was what I thought until VEGA spoke out from the speakers of the armor.
"It seems that a massive breakout has occurred in Arkham Asylum." VEGA informed before speaking once more. "I have also detected several explosions across the planet."
There was silence on the room for several seconds… until John spoke, and again…
"Oh, for fuck's sake!"
So, the proto-League has finally found Rachel, but unfortunately, and as it happens in these stories, something happens from going to her.
Hope the 'rubbing heads as an alternate show of affection' didn't seem weird or creepy. Also, lot's of things have happened between the SI and Garfield outside official chapters, but I haven't written sidestories because something tells me not many people would read them.
ClayFish said:
A scantily clad sexy stage magician is seen rushing over to the Wayne manor after canceling her show… bruh how many tabloids and shit do you think will be made of the two now?
Click to expand…
Click to shrink…
We Don't Care About Bruce ('s Public Life, at least)
Preparations
So, it happened. We had finally found Rachel, only for something to get in our way to her once more… only this time, said something was global, and it had already taken lives.
"VEGA, give us footage of the explosion sites."
VEGA did as I asked, first generating a hologram of the globe indicating where the attacks had taken place, centered in North America, Europe, and parts of Africa and Asia, and the location proper.
What we saw made my blood boil unlike it had never done before. As horrible a their attacks had been, the Red Trident had at least the been limited enough to a train, a ship, and a single city.
But this? The images of burned out buildings, destroyed homes and vehicles, splattered blood, and worse results of being at the epicenter of a large explosion that I don't want to discuss further? This was no simple terrorist operation, but a full-blown attack against the entire planet. And it was impossible that no less than a thousand had died.
"Garfield, your room, now. And take the baby with you." I told the boy, who fortunately hadn't seen much.
Nodding, Garfield grabbed the baby from a frozen Mera's arms, turned into a cheetah, and ran to his room. The last thing I wanted was for them to grow up after seeing images of that. Dead animals, yes, but not this. Not. This.
As I dreaded, the bombings had caused incredible amounts of damage to the locations they had happened on, aforementioned horrors included. As in, big enough to cause ashes to fall from the sky.
"Oh, god…" Clark muttered after recovering from the initial shock, eyes wide in horror.
"Are those people?!" Wally exclaimed in horror at the sight of the ash rain. "Did someone just drop freaking nukes?!"
"I haven't detected radioactive material. Nonetheless each explosion could be measured on the several tons range." At the very least, we wouldn't be dealing with fallout. Still, someone had dared to do what no one else on this planet, even universe, had ever done: mass murder on a global scale.
"Casualties."
"Ten thousand dead, just as many wounded, both numbers rising significantly as we speak."
"My god." I don't know if Bruce said that in further shock or relief, but I didn't care at that moment. At the very least we wouldn't be dealing with fallout.
"Monsters…" I heard Grundy growl, and even heard his enormous fists clench in anger. "They must pay for this. I'll make trees brout out of their living flesh." He had yet to try that out, but nonetheless, it was just a demonstration of how furious he was.
Unfortunately, the attacks themselves would end up being just another problem, just the greater one.
"I'm afraid that's not all. It appears that all the prisons holding your enemies, not just Arkham. have been breached. The only upside is that no explosion has been detected on those locations."
Sure enough, VEGA showed us live images of Arkham, Blackgate, Iron Heights and Stryker's island, hundreds of inmates sprinting out of the buildings with familiar faces among them: Captain Boomerang, Livewire… and a certain clown. True, those three hadn't been hit, but the release of so many criminals would obviously
And then VEGA showed us Tokyo, and then we saw a familiar black form made of sludge erupting from a prison's main building.
"Fuck, that guy again?!" John screamed as Brushogun's body reformed and he gave a victorious roar and went on a rampage on the city he once claimed to protect. "The japanese system should have fed him a fucking blessed bomb and be done with it!"
Soon, Pausanias and the others, including a veritable kaiju of all things, came into the scene and engaged Brushogun just as he attacked the JSDF. Again, they were beset upon by several other villains, in this case a murderous robot, a ghost of of some kind, and (I want to say funnily enough, but the situation was anything but) a literal, pink-furred catgirl. I'm fairly certain some of you might recognize them.
"Of course he's got friends."
"They're just four out of hundreds." Bruce said, still calm despite everything that was happening, before turning to me. "Take us back to Earth, now. We can still stop them before they can escape."
Unfortunately, I was too absorbed in my thoughts to reply to him. Whoever had done this, they obviously wanted to cause as much damage as they could… and, very possibly, draw me out to try to fight or kill me, or something else altogether (I ended up being right about the drawing out part, just not me). But I couldn't just leave Rachel to save the world either, not after finally finding her location. I couldn't do this alone, and even with the help of John and Grundy, we wouldn't be able to respond to all the threats.
And then it struck me, something that for some reason I forgot as VEGA pulled those images and because of which I unashamedly admit I was a fool: I was sharing the room with several members of all itinerations of the League.
Maybe, just maybe, it was time for the Justice League to be born… and, as poetic this may sound, do so in fire.
"VEGA, open four portals." I didn't need to specify to where, he already knew what I had planned. Then, I turned towards Clark and shook him out of his stupor.
"Clark, I'll send you to Smallville to get Kara; a portal to Metropolis is already waiting for you to meet with John. Trust me, it's faster than flying."
Clark nodded and didn't waste time in flying into the portal to his home. Then I turned to Wally.
"Wally, you go to your city. Most of your rogues have to still be on their cells, so you'll have an easier time. After that go to Metropolis and help the others."
Wally grinned and gave a military salute. "Aye aye, captain!" He then sped into the portal. Finally, it was Bruce's turn.
"Bruce, go back to the mansion, call for Dick and Barbara and secure Arkham. Zatanna" The sorceress flinched as I spoke to her. ", go with Bruce. I know you know nothing of fighting, but your magic might be needed and more useful down there, even if only to repair the damage."
She seemed unsure of what to do for a moment, but then nodded. "I'll try to do something. Don't know exactly what, but I'll try anyway."
Unlike Clark, Bruce seemed reluctant to obey me, but he still did so, but not before sending me one last, meaningful glance as he and Zatanna left. I knew what it meant, and you probably too, but at that moment I didn't care about that.
Arthur, who until then had been silent, put a hand on my shoulder. "What about me?" He asked.
"Arthur?" Mera asked, Junior back on her arms. Garfield had returned from his room, and after giving the baby back to his mother he stared up at me, thinking.
"I can't stay here and do nothing while this is happening. Besides this is the perfect chance to prove my goodwill and that the Kingdoms do want to coexist with the surface."
That made me think. He could control water, he had the strength of twenty men, he could shrug being punched by a strongman, and was a damn good fighter… but his real contribution would come from his status as king.
"You don't really need to do anything by yourself. Gather your troops and send them to the Eastern Coast, Europe and North Africa to help the military."
Arthur nodded at that. "A humanitarian action." He seemed worried for a moment, but then his eyes hardened again. "The Atlantean army has never done that before, but still, I think they'll be able to do that."
"Grundy, you'll help Spartan and the others deal with Daizo. Alone they'd be able to take him out, but it'd take them too long. With your help, it'd be a matter of minutes. After that VEGA will open a portal to our location."
"Location?"
"I told you, you must help Pausanias and Ayame kill Brushogun." Yes, kill. Spartan had already made clear his stance with murdererers several months prior, he hated Daizo with a passion for obvious reasons, and besides Brushogun was set up for execution anyway.
Grundy opened his mouth as if to protest, but then closed it with a frown. "I still want to be there when you meet her."
"And you will, but first you must help save Tokyo from Daizo."
A portal big enough to let a bull elephant through opened behind him. With a final look, Grundy went to help Pausanias and the others.
Now it was just me, John, Garfield and VEGA on the Fortress.
"Okay, the little guys are dealing with the little things. Now what?" John asked me. "Shouldn't we already be down there, forcing our way through a prison, slaughtering the guards, and all that mushy hero shit?"
Instead of replying directly, I grabbed my helmet and put it back on.
"VEGA, give us a visual of Rachel's current location."
An hologram of the location appeared in the center of the room, showing us the image of a stone fortress, not dissimilar to Petra. I could already imagine the interior: narrow spaces, so confined that I'd have to crouch just to move around and most of my weapons would be hitting the walls, obstructing me unless I tore through them.
So, super shotgun and fists it was
Then, I pulled out my shotgun.
"You said it yourself, John. We finish what we started."
Short and condensed chapter for such an important event, I know, but don't worry, the next ones will be at least a couple hundred words longer each. Also, third anniversary in this site for me!
Breakout at Striker's Island
Stryker's Island, Metropolis max security prison and where most if not all of Superman's rogues gallery ended up staying, including men and women like John Corben, Winslow Schott, Leslie Willis, and many more who couldn't be held at other prisons due to being metahumans that could not be held in other locations. That, and it being the first place Superman brought them in.
And yet, despite the good will of the one who imprisoned them and the efforts of the system to righten them up, none of them had nor really wanted to 'change for the better', as he called it, preferring to fester their hatred for Superman some more in some cases, capitalize on the fact they'd just be imprisoned again yet able to break out in others, and simple routine for the rest.
All sans one, who incidentally had turned out to be the one who hated Superman the most of them all less than a month prior… and then gave up everything he had to Bruce Wayne and his company before turning himself in.
Lex Luthor, formerly one of, if not THE richest and most powerful man in the world, was busying his day by reading a book that, incidentally, was about a man that had commited unspeakable evils yet managed to find redemption, if only after intense physical and psychological suffering. Not all that different from what happened to him.
"Only I actually got to live." Lex said to himself as he closed the book and set it on the table. Despite what many believed, he no longer had 'prison privileges', so to speak: his cell contained nothing more than a bunk, a sink, and a table, basically the same as everyone else in the prison. As for the interactions with the inmates themselves, aside from some jeering and mocking, and a punch then and there, simply welcomed him as one of their own instead of, say, giving the silent treatment, stabbing him with shivs or worse.
Despite the danger, though, he didn't really care about all that, and in fact wouldn't have minded it.
During these last weeks, he had been thinking, mostly about Doom Slayer and his decision to let him live. Sure, he had forced him to feel the suffering he had inflicted on others as a punishment, but he thought he'd also blow his head off after that just to make sure he wouldn't become a problem in the future, and given his past actions he'd be in the right. Granted, he HAD also told him his reasons, but still, Lex couldn't help but feel skeptical and dubious even after all this time.
"And it's not like I can do a goody two shoes act." He mused to himself. Doom Slayer may have spared him, and Superman may look forward to his rehabilitation, but he was pretty sure that the world would rather see him dead than out of prison, including himself. "Mph, I wonder how's Mercy doing. Hope Wayne let her keep her job, or at least make her his limo-"
Suddenly, Lex heard a explosion, followed very shortly by the cell shaking… and the cell's electric gate opening without no one at the other side. Then, half a minute or so later, began the sounds of shouting, fighting, and even gunfire.
A riot had broken out in Stryker's Island. But
"The hell was that?" Lex muttered as he, ignoring the survival instinct he had acquired throughout his life, stepped out of his cell to see what happened.
Lex saw as the inmates ran out of their cells and began to overwhelm the guards, who where trying their damnest to hold them back and away from the torn down walls, and not doing a particularly good job at it. Then again, they had never suffered this kind of mass breakout before, and in the few cases it seemed one would happen Superman would end up arriving to stop it. But Superman wasn't there.
"What the hell is going on?!" He didn't expect someone to answer, so a certain DJ-turned-villain doing so as he flew by surprised him.
"Breakout, richboy, breakout!" Leslie cackled before flying away.
Lex looked around, watching as criminals of all kinds ran out of their cells, before warily going back into his. There was no way he'd be leaving, and not just because he had promised he would. Besides, where would he go? The entire world hated his guts, and if the police didn't gun him down an angry mob would rip him apart, or some shady organization would try to capture him to pull every secret he had on his brain, someone would try to get their revenge on him…
And then he felt himself thumping against something heavy and metallic.
"I knew I'd find you out, you snake." A metallic voice with a british accent said from behind him. "Saying you've changed, only to try to escape like always."
Turning around slowly, Lex found himself face to face with a man who had half of his face ripped, showing a metallic, bronze-coloured exoskeleton, skull and fake skin included. If looks could kill, Lex would had dropped dead.
John Corben. Lex had never got to see him after coming to Striker's, and even before that given his life, but still remembered he was a dangerous man, one that could threaten Superman. The warden didn't to shut him off for the possibility he might stay like that for good. There was also something else about him, something that Lex couldn't really remember. Doom Slayer's 'session' had basically scrambled sections of his memory.
The fact that the light he emitted had somehow gone from green to red made it worse.
"Uh, I didn't plan on escaping, really." Lex meekly said, thinking that Corben was calling him out for being a lying bastard or something like that. "I just wanted to see what was happening."
Unfortunately, Corben wasn't there to call him out.
"Well, not anymore." Corben said menacingly, apparently having not heard Lex greeting him, or more likely not giving a damn going by the grin he had on his human face. "I can finally pay you back for the 'kindness' you showed me all those times: sending me to a suicide mission, trapping me on a cold, lifeless body…"
Lex's eyes widened in horror when what he remembered from Corben finally hit him: the man utterly hated him for what he had done to him, to the point he only hated Superman because he had always foiled his plans to kill him.
And in this particular occasion, Superman wasn't there to stop Metallo.
At this, Lex did the only thing he could do: run.
"Yes, that's right Luthor, run, run from the metal monster you created and who will have his sweet revenge on you for the torment you inflicted upon him!" He heard Metallo half scream. half laugh from behind him.
All Lex could do was run as fast as he could, because he knew that if Metallo caught him, he'd be dead, or would end up wishing he was. Dodging both inmate and guard as he ran, Lex made his way through the prison, not really know where to go and getting even more frantic as he heard the heavy, metallic stomps of Metallo from behind him.
And then, after a chase that seemed to last over an eternity, he entered into the laundry room of the prison, one that only had one door. He had just unwittingly trapped himself! All he could do was to close and dock the door, hide inside a washing, and pray that Metallo couldn't find him.
"Got you now, you bald rich bastard!" Metallo screamed as he barged into the room and, after seeing no one, began tearing it apart to find him. "You think I'm stupid?! I know you're hiding here somewhere! No money, no guns, no power… and no stupid good-natured alien to save your sorry ass from me!"
'Oh God, oh God, oh God…' Lex had never been a particularly religious man, and even less after Superman and other superpowerful entities made their appearances on Earth and casted doubts about the existance of God, but after meeting face to face with Doom Slayer
Didn't save him when eventually Metallo reached his hiding spot and pulled him out by the neck.
"Found you, you snake…" Metallo whispered as he began crushing his throat.
Lex tried to breathe, to pry the cyborg's hands off of his neck, but the hold was simply too strong, and he was growing weaker and weaker with every passing moment.
And then a white and red blur bursted through one of the walls and slammed into Metallo, sending him flying back and freeing Lex, who after falling to the ground promptly began to gasp.
"Of bloody course…" He heard Metallo growl as he stood up, only to receive a faceful of broken machinery. "One of you had to come at the last second and stop my fun."
Lex, busy as he was coughing and caressing his throat, didn't see an open hand hovering over him.
"You okay down there?" Said the voice of a young girl. "Sorry for being late, this isn't the only prison hit."
Looking up, Lex saw it was Supergirl, Superman's female companion, who was smiling down at him.
"You?"
Supergirl huffed, but in a good-natured manner. "Where you expecting Superman? He's a tad busy keeping the others from reaching the docks."
"If I can be honest with you, I wasn't expecting anyone." Lex replied as he grabbed her hand, letting her lift him effortlessly. "What happened? I mean the explosions."
"I've no idea either, Superman just told me and Steel to come here to Striker's." Supergirl explained.
Metallo chose that moment to stand up from the pile of rubble he had been under.
"Lassie, if you step aside I promise I'll come in… but only after I rip his bloody head off his shoulders." He said as he slowly advanced towards them, a manic half grin on his face, or rather a full grin that coulnd't be fully shown because of his exposed skull.
"I'm sorry, but do you really think I'll let you murder Luthor? Besides, you're smiling. I've learned that in bad guys, that's a telltale sign they want to rip someone else's head next after their original goal. Oh, and one of those was you. Did you hit your brain or something?"
Metallo sccoffed. "At least I tried. Still, do you really want to save this bastard? Oh, what am I saying, of course you would! That flying brick has indoctrinated you!"
It was Supergirl's turn to scoff. "Why do some bad guys call a good set of morals 'indoctrination'? And besides, how can you even move? Thought the warden would keep you shut off, and we have all the kryptonite on a safe place."
The metal villain just laughed, this time rather derangedly. "They gave me an alternative, new energy source to keep me active, and thought that leaving me with nothing to power me would be tantamount to murder, as stupid as it sounds. It may not be poison to you, but it at least gives me enough strength to kill you, just like last time!"
Supergirl merely smiled. "Bring it on, then! I'm not scared of some-"
Neither her nor Luthor expected Metallo to pounce on her fast enough to generate a small shockwave; even the kryptonian had trouble seeing him jump so quickly!
"Whatever they gave me is better than some rock from space!" Metallo shouted as he began pounding Supergirl, shattering the floor beneath her with each hit. Sparks came of out fists, but he didn't seem to care despite noticing it. "It makes me strong enough to dent the alloy of my body1
The attacks, while hurtful, didn't stop Supergirl from uppercutting Metallo, sending him flying off of her.
"Supergirl!" Lex exclaimed as he ran to her and helped her up.
"Don't worry, it just stings a lot." She reassured him before looking back at Metallo. "You think you'll kill me by just punching me?" She said after spitting blood. "I've been punched, kicked, slammed and even bitten by worse guy than you!"
Instead of replying, Metallo jumped at Lex, who would have died if not for Supergirl shoving him away before ramming Metallo, both falling to the ground in a lock. However, rather than using just his hands, he placed his left arm around her neck and pegan to press.
"Y'know, I may not feel the hold crushing your pretty little neck, but I can hear the bones snapping." Metallo growled. "Be happy, others would do far worse given your beauty. I just want to kill you and show it to your brick of a friend, then kill Luthor. Don't care if he rips me apart for this, all I care is killing the bald bastard. And you had to get in my way…"
Supergirl tried to say something, anything, but all that came from her mouth was hacking and coughing as she tried to breathe.
All the while, Lex could do nothing but watch, out of fear and because he knew he couldn't do anything, and that he would be next, blaming himself for being so helpless.
At least until he heard a voice in his head.
'Don't just stand there and let that metallic baboon kill her, you fool! She saved your life! Do something!'
'But what?!'
"You created his body, didn't you?' The voice retorted. 'Don't tell me you lost IQ points by turning over a damn leaf! Hell, this could be a great opportunity to remind yourself the reason you were Superman's worst enemy, someone to be feared!'
The voice made him think. Metallo's endoskeleton had a weakness on his neck he had placed deliberately in case he turned rogue, but never used for various reasons, chiefest among them the lack of interactions they had had in the past.
So, against his better judgement and survival instinct, he did the one thing he never thought he'd do.
He jumped on a robot that could match Superman one on one and wanted to tear him apart limb by limb, and tried to shut him off. Even if he died, Supergirl would get to live.
"Get off of me!" Metallo screamed when he felt Luthor's weight on his back, his rage and desire to kill him increasing tenfold when he realized the object of his vengeance was literally straddling him and hitting his neck for some reason. "Nevermind, stay there so I can rip your damn head off!"
Lex knew he was mere seconds from dying, but he refused to stop know, knowing that he had just put himself into harm's way for the possibility of stopping Metallo.
And then his hand pressed something that gave in, and both he, Metallo and Supergirl heard something snap inside the last's body.
As the glow on his eyes died out, Metallo's body fell to the floor in a heap, motionless.
"You know, just because I left THAT life behind doesn't mean I've been rendered harmless." Lex told Metallo as he gasped, even though something told hime he had only been able to shut down Metallo by sheer, pure luck and quick thinking. He was also fairly certain that what he just said was corny at the very least, but if Superman could do it, so could he, no? He didn't have to make it sound heroic or anything. Then, he tended to Supergirl, who aside from some bruises didn't seem to be worse for the wear. Didn't stop him from asking "Are you okay?"
"I think so. I said it, I've been punched by worse things than some Robocop copy." She said as she wiped the blood off her mouth. "Still thanks for the asssistance." She then perked up, as if she heard something. "Have to leave you, Big Blue is calling me. Oh, and thanks for the assist, too!"
And with that Supergirl left, leaving Lex alone with his thoughts, an inactive John Corben, and a strange yet welcome combination of accomplishment, joy, and fullfillment, even though he didn't fully understand why.
That still left him having to drag a three hundred pound cyborg back inside by himself, for some reason he still didn't get.
So, new Lex seems to have accommodated to his new life rather smoothly. Sorry for the rather abrupt ending, my head is now being filled with Sonic the Hedgehog because I've started YET ANOTHER story, Rise of the Eggmen. Don't bother reading it, it's just one chapter long. That, and trying to get out of my novel's writer block to finally surpass the 100k words (and a few other things I don't think you have to know about).
Trouble in Tokyo I
Pausanias grunted as he was thrown backwards by a black fist, crashing into a lower floor.
"What's the matter, 'Spartan'?" The voice of the one thing he hated the most at that moment boomed with a chuckle. "Forgot to train and decided your new toys would suffice?"
Not even bothering to reply, Pausanias growled as he stood up shakily before jumping out of the building, just as a huge black fist tore through it.
The day had started well. No, scratch that, the day had started beatifully. After months of leaving him rotting in a cell but otherwise alive, the courts, all of them, had finally decided what to do with Uehara Daizo: death by electrocution in a sacred chamber that would nullify his power, with Spartan and his group making sure nothing would interrupt the ceremony. Saying that both the greek and the wolf yokai were happy about this would be understating it. After too much time of waiting, that monster in literal human skin would finally get his comeuppance. Better yet, one of the persons he had made her life a Hell would be there not only to witness it, but also to make sure it happened.
And then something exploded near the prison the execution would take place in and Daizo didn't waste time turning into a giant monster. He probably tried to turn into Godzilla out of obsession, but couldn't get more than a bigger version of his giant form which, unfortunately, would be more than enough to kill them.
Fortunately, he was no longer invulnerable, either.
Pausanias watched with a grim smile as Ayame, carried by a familiar little android, flew over Brushogun's body and sent a thunderbolt crashing down to his head, causing him to roar in genuine pain and try to swat them and nearby JSDF gunships like insects, obviously without success.
His satisfaction evaporated when Scarface slammed into them at high speed, forcing Mecha to drop Ayame, both failing to the ground. The fall wouldn't kill them, but the many, many ink monsters that Daizo had created could, so Pausanias, didn't waste time to charge in.
Hephaestus, after finding out that the sword Pausanias took with him to Japan had been nigh useless in his fight against Brushogun, decided to forge, then send him not just another one, but also a plethora of new, divinely empowered weapons and a more protective set of armor not just for him, but his fianceé: for him, a kopis that could turn any organic thing into stone, a spear that could cover its wielder in flames or incinerate anything it struck, and finally a maul so heavy it could generate a small earthquake if it hit the ground, and of course utterly mulch anything it hit. As for Ayame, she received a pair of wakizashi (originally more traditional athenian xiphoi that Hephaestus had reforged 'to keep the girl's culture', according to his father) that could generate lightning to fry anyone stupid enough to get close to her, and a spare breastplate from Themyscira's most active protectors (also modified for the same reasons as the swords) that could stop all small arms rounds yet not encumber her at all.
Sadly, while Ayame always brought her gifts everywhere she went when on patrol, Pausanias didn't expect anything to happen during the execution.
Fortunately their friends, a ninja and a literal robot boy who had been wronged by Daizo in the past, had gone with them to the prison.
As Pausanias hacked and slashed his way through the sea of ink creatures, strange objects similar to water balloons began falling around him with incredible force, drenching the area. The creatures were literally washed away by the blessed water, their essence dissolved by the positive magic. Then, a certain multicolored ninja jumped in.
"Are you okay, Spartan?" Saico asked as he threw another of his water bomb on the ones attacking Ayame and Mecha-Boi, destroying them and allowing them to return to the skies. "I thought they'd overwhelm you."
"You didn't need to help, but thanks for the save anyway." Pausanias then moved Saico away just as an ink monster, one that had somehow survived being drenched, lunged at him, turning it to stone as it jumped. The statue flew for a moment before shattering as it crashed on a car. He then turned to look at the six-way fight taking place in front of him.
One was Saico-Tek, real name Toshio Murakami, member of a ninja organization that used the latest in technology to work, who had been imprisoned by Daizo after a failed assassination. The other was Mecha-Boi, a robot driven by a preteen personality who had been forced on a non-lethal rampage after Daizo murdered his creator, or as Mecha preferred to call him, his father. Thanks to research and preparation (Saico's blessed water bombs and something about the spectrum of light for Mecha's repulsors), they too were able to hurt Brushogun.
Indeed, he was fairly certain their combined strength would've been more than enough to kill the bastard if not for the intervention of three villains, one of whom decided to forget about the troops shooting at him or the fight next to him to focus on Pausanias, saws raised and 'mouth' opening to roar at him.
"C'mon, you sack of bolts and nuts!" He screamed at the rotund yellow machine, it's eyes and sharp teeth making it seem more of a monster than a mech.
Ayame growled as she tried to hack into the mononoke and electrocute him from the inside out, her swords being able to touch it, but Scarface refused to get within reach, and despite her speed it was hard for her to tag the spirit.
"Hold still, you damned ghost!" She screamed, earning a guttural wail from it.
Meanwhile, Mecha-Boi faced the cat woman, doing his damnest to vaporize her head, but she was too agile for him. At the inverse, she couldn't jump high enough to get to him, but it didn't seem she cared much about that.
"What's the matter, Astro Boy?" Nya-Nya mocked "Can't hit a simple cat girl?"
Mecha-Boi sceamed, furious. "You don't get to call me that, bitch! Only my friends and fan!"
The three villains were Nya-Nya, a cat yokai, Scarface, a mononoke from the far past, and CD-TIM8K, a flesh-eating combat droid more commonly known as Timoko. All of them were rogues, real ones, that Daizo had taken in, instead of making them. Why were those three helping Brushogun despite everything he had done to them, no idea… but after this, helping Brushogun and happily killing dozens of officers and soldiers, they sure as hell wouldn't end up rotting in cell, but in a morgue.
If they could kill them, that's it, because unlike Brushogun's monsters they were more than a match each for the fighters. Meanwhile, the monster himself, rather than continue his rampage across the city, merely sat there and watched as his enemies fought his beasts and the three rogues, laughing and even clapping his hands like a young child. It seemed that his defeat, added to having to wait for his impending death for several months, had finally eroded his sanity.
"Oh, look at you, heroes and villains fighting for my amusement like beetles on a jar!" He laughed before raising a finger to his chin, as if thinking of something, staying like that for a minute or so as the battle below him continued. All the while, the JSDF used the opportunity to unleash everything they had at hand on his back, with no success. Then, he clasped his hands. "Oh, I think I know what does this fight need!"
Suddenly, all of Brushogun's monsters went back to their liquid form and converged, until, a creature that promptly looked dow. It wasn't Godzilla per se, being green and having fins on both his back and arms, but it was still significantly bigger than Daizo was. The only good thing that came out of this was that Brushogun had decreased in size.
"A giant monster!" Brushogun laughed from his spot, clapping once more. "And this one's entirely original, not cheap some copy of Big G!"
"So long, boys" Nya-Nya laughed as she and her companions mader her getaway. Ayame threw some leaves at them, and Saico a bola shot, but they were more concerned with the new problem at hand.
"Can we take that?" Mecha-Boi asked, his synthetized voice making clear he was terrified of this turn of events.
Pausanias and the others, however, weren't intimidated in the least. "It's just a giant ink monster. Yes, it's technically real, but this time we can-"
Before he could finish the phrase, the monster roared in what seemed to be agony before exploding, sending a disproportionate sea of ink everywhere… including the group.
Watching the tide of ink coming, and seeing that the non-fliers wouldn't be able to escape fast enough, Pausanias sank his blade on the ground and raised his shield. "Mecha, fly! Saico, Ayame, hold onto me!"
Both did so just as the ink reached their position. The ink came with enough force to crush nearby cars and even push Pausanias back a bit, but other than that they'd be fine, protected behind Spartan's shield.
And then, as the ink finally receeded to reform into either the monster or something else, Pausanias raised his head, and saw something crouching where Brushogun's creature had been on, the blobs of ink around it motionless. A sight that made his blood boil when the dust finally set and he could see it more clearly, a huge, muscular monster in the shape of a man but more than twice the height of one, one he knew who it was, what it was, and more importantly, where did it come from… and who it was allied with.
Solomon Grundy.
I know, short and crappy chapter, but I've already psyched myself up with a good number of you not liking the story focusing on Pausanias and the others. Plus, Grundy is a peer to Superman, so even though he won't be the one killing Daizo, the fight is not really going to last much. In fact, the second part will be more drama-based, given everythint that
Trouble in Tokyo II
The four stood there, shocked by the sudden turn of event, and watched as Grundy turned around to look at a terrified Daizo. Even the present Self Defense personnel stopped firing, just as amazed, their choppers eve flying back when they realized who it was.
"Hello there." The unded giant said. Despite them facing his back, Ayame somehow knew that Grundy was smiling.
"I-I don't fear you!" Brushogun said, trying to put a brave face even as he stuttered. Hell, Ayame could even see him shake with fear. "You're just some freak that Doom Slayer took in to make an attack dog! I've faced worse! Nah, screw that, I've made worse!"
Grundy merely rolled his shoulders, making loud cracks as his enormous arms moved. Again, Ayame was sure he was smiling. "Is that so, inky? Care to prove it?"
Before Brushogun could say anything, long, thick roots bursted through the pavement around the building, and grabbed then threw him at Grundy, who promptly grabbed him with one of his huge fists before slamming him against the ground. Brushogun managed to free himself and turn his arms into weapons, however, then making himself himself as big as Grundy, turning what could have been a quick beatdown into a prolongued fight.
All the while, the four protectors of Tokyo watched from afar.
"Holy crap!" Mecha exclaimed as both monsters fought. "Are you guys seeing this?!"
None of the three deigned to respond, being just as amazed at this. Grundy, of all people, helping them? Granted, Ayame was confident they could have taken on Daizo by themselves, even without the aid of the JSDF, but still, his help was pretty much welcome as far as she cared.
But then she looked at Pausanias. She couldn't see his face, but something told her he wasn't happy at the sight of Grundy.
"So, does this mean we can go after the others?" Mecha asked, probably thinking he was voicing what the others were. "I mean, they're getting away aren't they?"
"After this?" Saico replied. "Hundreds of people are still trapped, and I doubt the Self Defense Force will be able to help them in time."
"Yeah, but you have to admit we can't just let them get away after all of this either." Mecha retorted.
Pausanias didn't even bother to look at them. "Mecha and Ayame, you're the fastest ones. Go after them and take them down, doesn't matter how. Saico, try and see if you can help the civilians. I'll stay here and see if I can… help Grundy."
Both Saico and Mecha nodded and ran towards the three villains had run off, Mecha hoping to catch them before they could either cause more damage or find a way to escape the city, while Saico-Tek
Ayame, however, stood in place. The others may have not noticed his suddenly changed demeanor, but she had, and not just due to the fact she'd been living with him for several weeks.
"Pausanias?" She asked.
Pausanias glanced at Ayame, but didn't say anything. However, even though the helmet obscured his face and made it hard to see his eyes, Ayame knew that Pausanias was very, very angry despite the fact that everything was going well.
"Pausanias?" Ayame called once more, more urgently this time.
She could see his shoulders shake as he looked back at the fight. Months of bottled up frustration threatened to come out all at the same time, even though the man himself wasn't there.
"I thought I asked you to go with Mecha."
"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong with you!" Ayame shot back. A childish response, perhaps, but under her circumstances she couldn't think of anything better.
"I'm… not okay, Ayame."
Ayame scoffed at his reply. "That's pretty obvious, isn't it?"
Rather than reply directly, the greek instead turned to look at her right in the eyes. Her anger evaporated when she saw his eyes. Not angry, not sad, nor a combination of both… but rather, something else altogether she couldn't understand.
"Look at him." Pausanias said as he looked back at the fight, specifically at Grundy. "Beating the life out of Daizo like nothing. It reminds me of that day. Reminds me of my helplessness against Daizo."
"I wasn't exactly able to make him bleed, you know." Ayame retorted, remembering the ease with which the seemingly human cop parried her attacks.
"Yes, but you can cope with that. You haven't trained your entire life to fight, only for your first real scuffle being against a freak of nature you can't hurt." Pausanias replied. Ayame had to bite her tongue to not reply to him basically insulting her, knowing he was too being tough on himself, actually even more. "And then this other guy, the one that inspired you to go out to the world, and makes short work of said freak with stupid ease, but refuses to kill the bastard despite what he has done even though right until then he has made a name for himself as a killer of monsters, both human and inhuman." He then looked back at her. "Then there's the fucking fact he can go everywere on the planet, yet he barely does so. And every time, every time I see him come out of his portals I don't just remember the fight, but everything else. It hasn't happened a lot, but…" He tightened his hold on his weapons, causing his knuckles to whiten. "Sometimes I think I'd be better off with my sword in my guts"
Ayame's eyes widened in horror. Pausanias had been bottling up his anger, frustration and self-shame for several months, to the point of considering suicide… and yet had kept it to himself. And she had never caught on it. "You should have told me!"
"I didn't want to trouble you, not with everything that was happening. You and the family had it worse than me, remember?"
"Yes, but that got sorted in just a week or so! You've been keeping it in for three months!" She exclaimed. "And I didn't even think of killing myself! What would your family think if you had gone through, uh?! Hell, what about me?!"
Pausanias shrugged. "I'd have gone to Elysium. I'd still be dead, and you angry and horrified, but at least you could visit me. Besides, I didn't pull through anyway."
"Still doesn't change the fact you thought of offing yourself, you jerk! And all that just out of resentment of Doom Slayer?!"
Pausanias opened his mouth to say something, but then both heard a victorious shout from Brushogun. It seemed that they had either overestimated Grundy's prowess or underestimted Brushogun's, because it looked like the latter had the upper hand; literally, given he had made himself into a giant once more, one nearly twice as big as Grundy was given the scale, and had grabbed the zombie, slamming him against the ground or nearby buildings. The military went back to the assault, but this time with more care, not wanting to hit Grundy despite knowing he could take it.
Ayame looked on with even wider eyes, if that could be possible. Solomon Grundy was peer to Superman and Doom Slayer. If Brushogun could do that to him, what else could she and Pausanias do? They could kill him, but so could he, and if he grabbed them they'd be dead and…
But then Pausanias, after looking at the fight, grunted in displeasure. "Pretty sure he's faking it."
Ayame looked at him, bewildered by his response. "'It'?"
The greek gestured at the fight "Being tossed around by Brushogun. Believe me, someone who can take on Superman and who seems to be seen by Slayer as an equal shouldn't have any trouble with Daizo, much less if he can make trees sprout out of nowhere. He's got to be faking it. "
Ayame had to stop herself from smacking herself for not realizing it herself despite having done similar stunts herself before, and Pausanias for making her start to go crazy with his changes in mood and attitude. At the same time, he also became less… depressed? Suicidal? Pissed? Deep in an internal turmoil? She still wasn't sure. "If that's so, then why?"
"No idea, but the longer he lets that bastard live the more time he has to make a plan to escape and cause more havoc." Pausanias then made a sound akin to a huff. An angry one. "I have an idea, but it-"
"Spartan, Wolf Princess, stop mucking around and help me!" Grundy screamed at them before pummeling Brushogun's head in.
Ayame didn't believe what she heard. Pausanias too was astonished by his response, at least enough to forget he was angry-depressed. "Us?" He managed to sputter out.
"Only your weapons can kill this bastard!" Grundy replied, apparently not caring that Brushogun could hear him. "They are imbued with the powers of a god! My fists and plants can only do so much against someone without a solid body!"
"Shut up and die already you undead motherfucker!" Brushogun screamed before grabbing Grundy by the head, only to scream as several roots exploded from his feet.
"Us?" Ayame voiced outloud before a though struck her. If Grundy was feigning being in peril…
Pausanias made a sound halfway between a sigh and a groan. "I know what he actually wants. Say, do you?"
The yokai nodded. "I think I do, but I think it'll be better to just kill Daizo before he manages to actually escape from Grundy. Everything is possible."
Pausanias nodded at her response before hefting his sword. "I just don't care anymore, at least not until we kill that son of a bitch once and for all. You first."
Ayame nodded with a small grin before sprinting at the site of the fight, launching electricity at Brushogun as she did while being careful of not hitting Grundy. Each bolt of lightning hitting Brushogun's skin caused him to scream, but even though he couldn't heal the damage it didn't seem to do much. But that was fine, because the idea wasn't to fry him from outside, but by stabbing the swords through his skin and deliver enough voltage to power a building right to whatever passed for his brain. And that, of course, was simply the main plan. The second one was distract him so that Grundy could get away, even though he didn't seem to be harm in any way… and so that Pausanias, being much slower than her, could rush in and cut his right leg by the shin. The stump then promptly petrified, but this wasn't of great importance compared to making the titan fall on the ground.
"You think you and you bitch girlfriend can take on me, you foreign bastard?! I'll kill you, then everyone make her watch as I liquidify her friends one by one!" Daizo roared as he tried to smash both of them, even though it was obvious he couldn't really follow on his threats and his rage didn't overcome his fear of dying, given the manic, terrified expression on his face. In fact, as this usually happened in stories, his threats only served to piss Ayame off.
"It's time you pay for your crimes, freak!" Ayame screamed back as she cut into his shoulder, causing Daizo to howl even higher as electricity sparked out of the wound. From her position she saw as Pausanias, apparently overcome with rage, was hacking away at Daizo's back, his frantic swinging causing pieces of petrified blobs to fly in the air. In fact, so focused he was that he didn't see several inky tendrils sprout around him until the last second, grabbing him by the legs, then arms.
"Gotcha Hercules!" Daizo managed to cackle through the pain as he dragged Pausanias into his body. "I'm going to enjoy melting the flesh off your bones, even if it kills me!"
"Pausanias!" Ayame called out.
Even more hands emerged and grabbed Spartan, who struggled as he hacked at them, but before Ayame could help him a large form jumped in and grabbed Pausanias. It was Grundy, who had jumped on Daizo's back and grabbed his torso to keep him down as he pulled Pausanias out of the blob, then throwing him at Daizo's head.
"Kill him, now!" Grundy shouted as he held an even more frantic Daizo (who by now had an idea of what could happen to tim) so he couldn't escape.
Pausanias grabbed Daizo's shaking head to keep it still, not to make the killing blow easier but so that the bastard could see as he and an approaching Ayame raised their weapons more clearly, to make clear to him he was going to die for real, and that he could do nothing to stop it. Then, as one, both screamed and thrusted their swords on Daizo's head.
Brushogun screamed in agony as the three blades stabbed his head, piercing through the inky flesh composing it. His screams then grew in intensity as lighting surged through his body and parts of his body began turning to stone, his head not being the first to suffer it despite it being where the magic came. Arcs of electricity surged through the titan's body, creating fumes of vaporized ink. All that was left of him was his head, frozen forever in a scream.
Or rather, some five seconds before Ayame put her leg on it and pressed until it cracked into rubble. The fight was officially over.
"Thanks for the help." Grundy said as he stood up and walked over to them. "I thought I'd be able to take him, but he was stronger than he seemed."
Ayame could see Pausaniass look up at the zombie, and despite the helmet she just knew he was anything but happy with him. She then looked around sadly, seeing the damage the fight had done to the area and the not-so-rare corpses in various states, even though she knew worse could had happened if they hadn't fought. And then there was the fact Grundy could have killed Daizo "I want to say thank you for helping us, but…"
Grundy, apparently knowing what she meant, nodded sadly. "I know."
Uehara Daizo was finally dead, but unfortunately he had taken hundreds with him.
Brushogun finally bites the dust. I think I've made the chapter too dramatic and convoluted, and the ending is rather crappy, but then, it's one of my (in)famous 'crap episodes because the author is busy yet refuses to stop'. As for Grundy's actions, it's something he thought that will be elaborated upon later, not that Slayer told him to do.
Rescuing the Raven
After walking through the portal, me and John found ourselves under the hot sun of the Middle East, facing the fortress we had seen back at ine. Again, it seemed similar to Petra, except it was a true free-standing building on the top of a mountain, not some carving in the form of temples. That, plus the several batteries of anti-air artillery that whoever owned the place had cleverly placed on and near the walls, made clear the place was inhabited.
"Okay." John said as he shielded his eyes from the sudden sunrays and looked at the structure in front of us. "Now what? I don't think they know we're here. Also, do we"
"I took the liberty to jam all their communications to mask your arrival and sow chaos to ease your assault, plus their automated defenses." VEGA said from my speakers. "That said, I believe they might already know of you."
"'They'?" I asked. However, given the place and the setting, plus the heavy defenses, I already had an idea of who they were; indeed, VEGA's next words just confirme my suspicions.
"The League of Assassins of Ra's al Ghul" VEGA replied before a shout in arabic came from the walls, followed by the ground around us exploding as bullets began to fly around us. "This is their HQ, and where the organization itself was born in the late 14th century."
"And had to tell us that now?" John groaned as he took cover behind me. Months of being with me, plus a lifetime of being, well, him, had toughened him up when it came to mundane threats that could be seen and didn't sneak up on him. If they didn't involve torture, even better.
"You didn't ask." VEGA replied.
"Of course he's gotta be an arse about it."
The fortress' other lookouts didn't waste time in shooting at us with what little they had… at least as far as I concerned, of course.
"I believe is time you began our assault. They're not going to run out of ammunition."
"'Assault', eh?" John replied as bullets pinged around us and on me. "Now what? Poke the wasps' nest again? I know, they're already bloody pissed, but I mean doing the aerosol flamethrower thing, if you get what I mean."
Not even bothering to nod, I exchanged the shotgun for the rocket launcher and fired several times at the fortress. The sturdy rock facade might as well have been made of cardboard againt the rockets as these impacted on them, their warheads destroying anything in a range of five meters, both rock and flesh. The screams that came from the walls eventually died out as the dust began to rise, but I could hear more coming from the inside.
After making sure John wouldn't be in danger, I went back to the shotgun. "Let's go and finish the mission. Find Rachel, get every last piece of information we can get, then destroy the fortress."
"Oi, one thing before we go in." John said as he dropped his cigarrete and prepared himself for the incoming fight. "What happens if we encounter ol' Nimrod? It is his house and he can't be plotting to ruin someone's life all the time. And I know that Bruce has history with the guy."
His comment made me think… for about two or three seconds, during which I made a brief recap of everything I knew of Ra's. As in, every single thing he had done that VEGA knew of, plus what I already knew, plus thinking of what Bruce might do if I disposed of him.
The Demon's Head had to die, alongside those who served him. And to hell with Bruce's reaction to it.
"He's a misanthropic self-appointed eco-terrorist with a god complex who has been a blight upon humanity well before the Fall of Constatinople in a way that could make many dictators balk, tortured an innocent man to the point of turning him into a monster more than capable of annihilating an entire city by himself, and who has to have done something with Rachel for whoever knows how long. What the fuck do you think I'll do to him, John?"
John nodded. "Fine by me, but before we raze the entire place to the ground, can I have a look at his pit? If only to piss in it if I can't do anything interesting with it?"
I shrugged as I gave him the pistol. He knew more of Lazarus pits than I did. "You can even keep it as long as you don't gamble it away."
I swore I could heard him curse outloud as I stepped into the cloud of dust that had been the League's castle's exterior and then the building proper, the magician right behind me.
We tore our way through the fortress, killing everyone trying to fight us. As expected, most hallways were rather narrow, but that didn't really pose a problem to me, nor John for that matter, agin thanks to years of going inside similar places and being right behind me and making sure we wouldn't be blindsided, alternating betwen his spellcasting and shooting. There wasn't a proper network for VEGA to hack, but we didn't need it, because VEGA used echolocation to draw a map. Yes, I could had also pushed my way through the walls, but there was the risk of accidentally killing Raven.
Plus, later it turned out she wasn't the only one needing 'rescue'.
Eventually, though, we did find more serious resistance. Ninjas of the League, men and women willing to die for their master, attacked us as we entered a large square-shaped room with a large pond in the middle that led to the rest of the building, even jumping out of it. This time, despite their martial skills, with emphasis on 'die'. Those who managed to stay out of reach simply got a faceful of shotgun blasts, their weapons all but useless.
On the other hand, despite the ninjas focusing on me, John didn't have such luck.
"God fucking dammnit!" John shouted as he fired at the nimble assassins, not trusting himself with casting given their speed and because he quickly realized that a near miss from my gun still caused to stop in pain,. "I've killed imps slower than these cunts!"
"Shut up and keep killing, there can't be that many left." Indeed, we ended up killing all of them, a good thirty or so, but then…
"You!" We heard a deep voice call to us. "You will ruin my master's home no longer!"
Turned around, we watched as someone ran into the room. It was a large, well-built man, wearing a shirt that left his chest open for all to see, eyes glaring at us from behind a horned helmet that hid his identity. This was Ubu, or rather the current Ubu, the latest of a line of individuals that served Ra's since old times. To most people without overwhelming powers, from Bruce to even the likes of Deathstroke, he would have been a mighty foe.
To me and John? He was just a strongman, one without guns, against John Constantine and Doom Slayer.
And no, I wasn't the one who killed him.
Ubu didn't have time to say anything more before John burned first through his mask, then his face, and finally shot at him in the gut, just to be sure. The brute screamed in agony as he tried to extinguish himself and keep his what was left of his carbonized intestines in at the same time, but in the end the magic fire reached his brain, frying it and killing him, all in less than five seconds. His motionless body, standing up for a couple seconds, then fell into the pond, adding to the red dye it had acquired after several of our victims fell in.
"Who was this bloke exactly?" John asked.
"A servant of al Ghul, that's all you need to know." I replied to him before resuming our march.
"Figures."
We continued moving through the castle, this time facing much less resistance and with a more clear objective, a mission control room of sorts from where Ra's or his lieutenants sent orders to the cells across the world. I could find out where they were, what were their objectives, and take them out in a single swoop, getting rid of a massive threat to the world.
However, we soon found ourselves in front of a richely ordained, yet thick set of gates in the middle of the complex. Judging by what I already told you and the pair of heavy automatic turrets posted at each side, it had to contain something important… but what?
"Maybe it's a treasure chamber." John noted before possibility hit him. "Or a fucking donjon. If it is, I'm not going."
Slowly, I pried the gates open and then entered the room, shotgun raised at the possibility of an ambush awaiting for us inside.
Except it was not a 'treasure chambe' or anything like that, as John thought it may had been, but a lavishly furnished nursery with a closed window, and it was occupied. A sleeping baby, couldn't be even a year old. undisturbed by the chaos outside the room thanks to the thick doors and wall, or me opening said doors for that matter. A baby that, given where it was, I had an idea who he was.
Which was pretty damn weird, given that this universe was a mix of the DCAU the Arkham series, neither of which he had appeared in in any form, not even a silent cameo.
"VEGA?"
"According to my scans, the baby is the son of Talia al Ghul and-"
A woman's gasp and a thud to the back of my helmet interrupted VEGA. In an instant, I turned around and punched whoever had been stupid enough to attack me and ignore the more vulnerable wizard at my side.
Talia al Ghul herself, holding the handle of a shattered sword. Her inhuman reflexes might had (or might had not) saved her had she been a foot further away, but she wasn't, and so my fist collided with her face.
The remain of Talia's head flew off her shoulders, pieces of brain and skull splattering against the wall behind her.
"That was fast." John replied, eyes wide either at the sight of carnage, or the fact Talia could have gone after him and he'd been unable to do anything to stop her in time. However, I was too busy thinking of what I had just done to say anything back.
I had just killed Talia al Ghul… and rendered Damian, Bruce's son and future Robin if everything happened as it did in the source, motherless. True, he was asleep when it happened, but still, it didn't change the fact I just killed his mother. I cared nothing for Talia, least of all because she wasn't the seccond in command of the entire League just out of nepotism, of her loyalty to her father and the simple fact Damian existed here, but the boy? And Bruce…
At the very least, he wouldn't end up being forced to fight for his life to become a fighter. And I sure as hell wasn't going to leave him there for obvious reasons.
Shaking my head, I sent Damian to the Fortress (I forgot about all the other safe places I could had sent him to at that moment) and resumed the trek. John didn't even bother to say anything given the situation, although I think I heard him mumble about 'adopt every ankle-biter'. Again, I didn't ponder on that until much later.
Eventually, after walking through darkened corridors, we reached an enormous room with a large pond, one filled with green, glowing water that emanated pure magic: Ra's personal Lazarus pit, and the first he had discovered.
And on the other side of the pit, shackled to something eerily similar to a sacrificial standing altar, there she was, the goal of our months-long search across the world: Rachel Roth.
A Rachel Roth that, going by her appearance, had to had been under the tender care of Ra's and his people for a good while: demaciated, bloodied pieces of skin hanging from her body, blood drippling from her mouth, skin so pale it made her look like a porcelain sculpture… even at that distance, she looked more dead than alive, the only sign that she wasn't dead being the slow rising of her chest indicating she was still breathing.
And who was standing right next to her, scimitar in hand and a glare that wished me untold agony for eternity? The Demon's Head himself.
"So, you must the demon who has invaded my home, killed my servants, murdered my daughter, and ruined everything I had meticulously planned for an entire century?" He scowled at me as I made my way to our side of the pond. His tone made clear wasn't upset by the deaths of his loved ones, but because I had the gal to attack him at all.
Oh, the irony (or maybe it was a kind of appropiate irony given my origins) of HIM calling me a demon.
I didn't bother to reply to his question directly. "Release her."
"One of my sons found this witch, then brought her to me to see if I could get some use of her." Ra's explained. "You cannot even imagine the treasure trove of power she has inside of her, of the taint that runs through her veins. But of course, a mindless brute like you wouldn't understand… or would you? After all, you and your raggedy friend came here for her, haven't you?" His scowl deepened when I didn't reply. "As expected, just like the detective, only willing to kill. I wanted to make you into the next Ubu, you know, but after your actions…"
You'd expect him to threaten to kill Rachel or do it outright, but no, he instead began to rant about his role and actions, and that I had broken everything, or something like that, and that he'd kill me for daring to do what Bruce didn't.
I was a man reincarnated as a powerful space marine turned into a god that had been fighting the forces of Hell itself for untold aeons, and most of that time with nothing but my bare hands. Ra's, despite his intelligence and age, was just a man, a skilled and calculating one, but a man nonetheless. I think you all expected it to happen, though. As for what exactly was 'it'… If you expect me to describe some epic scuffle between two immortals, you'll be sorely disappointed.
I didn't waste time in raising my rifle and shooting at him. Ra's didn't even have time to react in any way (screaming, trying getting out of the way, anything), before seventy five grams of high velocity tungsten annihilated not just his head, but also everything over his waist. And then another few times more before torching the remain to be on the safe side.
That's it, that's all. There wasn't even a fight. Ra's al Ghul was dead, just like that. Six hundred years of psycopathy, gone, and in a way that not even a trip to a Lazarus pit would bring him back.
"I guess that was it." John said before jogging towards Rachel and feeling her pulse. "The bastards did a number on her, and I'm pretty sure they put her under a sleeping spell." Yes, he rhymed on acccident.
I walked up to her and broke her shackles, careful to not hurt her. Up close and looking at her face, I had to admit she was beautiful even in her current state, but it also made me notice scar tissue under each eye. "Can you wake her up?"
John waved his hands in a 'so-so' manner. "Yes, but not here. I'd rather do it in the House, just to be on the safe side. Also, I think you're forgotting everything else." He gestured at the wounds.
Not wasting time, I told VEGA to prepare the medical wing of the Fortress, after which I sent her there.
After months of no success, we had finally found Rachel, and despite everything she went through she was now finally safe, but our mission wouldn't be over until she woke up. As for what happened after that, I didn't relly have an answer, especially given that the other objective at the moment had yet to be fulfilled. After that, though… I had no idea.
Eventually, we reached the comms room of the now truly lifeless castle. In contrast to the rest of fortress, the room was entirely covered in the latest in not only communications technology, but also jamming, hacking, research, anything you can think something like the League might need, plus files: their history, possible locations of Lazarus pits, people marked for death, allies… and something else that took my attention.
It was worse than I thought. Way worse, enough that I didn't react to John when he called to me.
"Slayer? Slayer, what's the problem? Demonic deals, badass sleeping army from Persia?"
"Worse." I replied as I looked once more at the screen, specifically at the words in bold that flashed blue.
KNIGHTFALL.
The time when Bane broke Batman's back.
And it had begun just five minutes prior.
So, after more than half a year Raven has been finally found, and the League of Assassins has suffered a bigass blow, but at the same time, one of the darkest moments in DC's lore is taking place, and Damian exists. No idea what's gonna happen after, no sire.
Steadying the Knight
Ra's plan to finally make Bruce see the world as he saw, the reason of all the chaos, was ironically rather simple: aside from having his people covertly place bombs in certain locations of Gotham, he had also rescued and 'hired' Bane (there was a conventional reward, but he'd do it more out of payback for what happened during Arkham Origins), who would take advantage of Bruce exhaustion to take him out. And to make sure the only man in the world who could help the Bat wouldn't interfere, they had planted bombs all across the world.
The issue about it was that this was supposed to happen for over a week, not in less than an hour, and that Bruce had made new friends, one of which able to send him to Gotham in just a second.
"VEGA, Gotham, now."
The city, or at least the section closest the island Arkham was on, was still in chaos, fires burning and people screaming even after more than ten minutes, with both the police and the firefighters doing their best to control the situation. Thing was, Bruce had actually managed to stop most of the inmates from escaping thanks to my portals, with only Poison Ivy, Mr. Freeze, Killer Croc and the recently brought Two-Face leaving as fast as they could. On the other hand, Joker seemed to not want to take advantage of the chaos to leave, preferring to pace in his cell and mutter about having his fun ruined.
Too bad for them I could see where they all were thanks to them being near cameras. In a minute, they were dropped inside several cells in the Fortress, cells from which they could not escape. As for Joker, his time would come one day, but not yet. I'd deal with all of them later, though. First, I had to help Bruce.
"VEGA, show me Bruce's location." VEGA promptly did as I asked.
And there he was, the man who broke the Bat, luchador panoply and everything, not as tall and hulking as me even hoped up on Venom, but still significantly bigger than the man he was currently fighting against right in front of Arkham's gates. It seemed that his body had finally recovered from the effects of the TN-1 after two years of being monitorized, intelligence decrease included judging by his elaborate rant about 'a benefactor wanting Batman to fall by his hand'. He hadn't broken Bruce's back yet, though, a good sign, but again, that could change. Nearby, Barbara and Dick were busy fighting thugs.
It would change now that I knew.
"So, how's Richboy doing?"
"Fighting against a man draped like a WWE fighter, you know who." Even John knew of Bane, if only the bare minimum.
"He's dead, isn't he?" John asked me, although it was less a question and more a statement of things to come.
I didn't even bother to reply to him, not even by pulling out a gun. Bane, like Ra's, was just a man, even with his skill, intellect and liberal use of Venom. Unlike Ra's, though, I wouldn't need to brutalize his corpse to make sure he stayed dead.
"You coming?" I asked him.
John shook his head. "Nah, I'm gonna sit this one out and see if I can do something about the pit. Besides, I don't think you need my help for some wrestling reject."
Again, I didn't waste time jumping into a portal to where the fight was taking place, specifically right behind Bane's back, just in time to see the mercenary forcing Bruce to the ground and raising his left arm in the air. Might have seemed foolish, but remember, he didn't even hear me come in, or even walk up to him and grab it.
I promptly ripped it off, but I didn't hear him scream. Hopped up in an intoxicating mixture of bloodlust, adrenaline and Venom, plus an entire life of corporal punishment making him used to pain, Bane merely grunted when the realization of having lost an arm kicked in.
"El idiota que se ha atrevido a pararme…" He began to say in spanish, talking about murdering whoever had had the gals to stop him, as he turned around to face the supposed 'idiot'.
Bane's glaring eyes widened in shock when he saw me towering over him with his right arm in my hand. That, and because he immediately realized he was about to die, and there was nothing he could do, not even close his eyes in resignation.
Like the man who had promised him vengeance, Bane didn't even have time to open his mouth before I grabbed his head, lifted him up, then smashed him against the ground, against which he exploded, showering everything within a certain radius with Bane's remains, including gore, bone and pieces of his injector, plus pieces of road. All this while Bruce, who after stopping the breakout and fighting Bane was in a bad shape for lack of a better term, could do nothing but watch as the man who nearly killed him twice before simply ceased to exist, all with a look I couldn't really find a name for. Yes, he still had the cowl on, didn't mean I couldn't see it. As for everyone else, the thugs that had been fighting Batgirl and Robin didn't waste time in running away after seeing Bane die, while both companions simply stared in horror at me.
"Holy shit man…" Dick muttered. Barbara didn't bother to say anything, she didn't need to. "You made him explode like nothing…"
The easy part was over. The hard part, the part where I had to tell Bruce about everything I had found out, was about to start.
I walked up at Bruce and a extended my hand, the clean one, towards him. Bruce stared at it, then at me, before grasping the hand and helping himself up.
"Took you long enough." He replied as he gazed back at Bane. "Did you have to?"
"It was either him beating you to death, or me bursting him apart. And I sure as hell wasn't going to let him break your back."
"I was handling him rather well."
"I saw you fighting an entire army of thugs by yourself, then facing a man stronger than you and just as skilled. 'Handling well' might not be the proper term to describe it."
"He's not wrong you know." Dick replied, even though he didn't approach. "Bane wasn't creaming you, but you still took a beating."
After making sure that no one would be escape, we brought Bruce to the cave to treat him. The damage he received wasn't really that serious, but I thought that dropping the bomb to him in a familiar environment would dampen the impact, so to speak.
Bruce grunted as I laid him on the stretcher, but said nothing else. "How are the others?"
"They stopped the breakouts in their cities, and the Atlantean army is already providing humanitarian help." I had VEGA open portals to help them mobilize to Europe and Africa. "And Grundy is helping Spartan and his companions deal with Daizo."
"I wiped out the League and killed Ra's, and then burned his corpse to make sure he stays that way. No amount of time in a Lazarus pit will bring him back."
His somewhat relieved look evaporated into something else. Not bewilderment, because he knew I was more than capable and willing of exterminating the cult, but that and horror because I had done so anyway, and very easily.
"What?" Barbara asked.
"I'm not going to repeat myself. They had Rachel all this time, and tortured her near to death." Then, I turned back to Bruce. "I also killed Talia. She attacked me from behind and even if she hadn't, she still posed a threat to John. Also, she bore you a son."
Bruce kept staring at me, jaw clenching before relaxing. He fooled no one. I didn't know what it was (grief for the one person he loved, anger because I commited a massacre on people who despite their crimes still had trained and housed him, the simple fact I had left his possible son motherless).
Dick looked between us, and so did Barbara, both clearly shocked by this. "Sorry, could you repeat the part where Bruce has a son again? I think I'm deaf, or misheard you, or both." He asked.
"I told you already, I'm not going to repeat myself."
"But you found the girl, right?" Barbara asked sheepishly. "I didn't hear you, sorry."
I nodded. "She's old enough to be your grandmother actually, but other than that yes, I found her, but Ra's and his people had been trying to unlock her magic for themselves." I turned back to Bruce. "No one is going to shed tears for them."
"I really have a…?" Bruce trailed off, still shocked by the news. "Is he really…?" He loved to trail off when shocked, did he?
I nodded. "VEGA can scan the blood of any living being as long as I have a look at them. I teleported his crib to the Fortress before laying waste to the rest of the League. Do you want to see him?"
Not many can say they saw the Dark Knight actually smile at the sight of a happy infant playing with Garfield. Too bad he also remembered why Damian was there at all. Still he kept quiet.
Then, I showed him everything I found out about the League, and then where my recently taken prisoners where, all but Victor and Harvey trying their damnest to force their way out, and failing. His reaction was to be expected.
"Put them back in Arkham." Bruce briskly asked as we watched Ivy scream and slam herself against the walls while screaming about making me pay. No plants to control, no realistic way for to escape; at least Waylon was strong enough to make the walls shake. Her display was just pathetic. Again, Victor and Harvey, kept to themselves, with the former being morose and the latter rambling. You know, I actually hoped he'd keep his mouth shut about them.
"No. It's safer for everyone if they stay here. Even if they escape, which they won't, where do you think they'll go, exactly? They'll be still stranded on Mars. This is a better prison."
"But what about Victor and Harvey?"
"I can fix their problems, for all of them… and no, it doesn't involve putting them against a wall and shooting them in the head." Indeed, I could help them. Not only did I have the means and resources, I also had true motivation to help them, or make sure they wouldn't pose a threat to the public anymore, at the very least.
So, after trying fruitlessly to convince me to give them to the GCPD or drop them in Arkham, he gave up and took Damian with him back to Gotham, but not before subtly making clear that it wasn't over.
The world was again at peace, one of the worst man-shaped monsters had been killed off forever alongside his organization, and several of Gotham's most infamous inmates were now in so far away from the innocent that, even in the impossible case they managed to escape, they'd pose no threat to anything.
All that was left was to see Rachel.
Batman's back is safe, the Fortress got new 'tenants', and peace has been restored… but Rachel has yet to recover from her ordeal with the League of Assassins, the Slayer has a plan with the previously mentioned tenants, and Tala and whoever employes her are still at large.
And yes, the name of the chapter is corny as fuck, I know, but the alternative might not be that better (Stopping the Knightfall).
The Raven Awakens
The news of what happened during March 20th of the year 2000 shook the entire world. Earlier that day, a series of catastrophic explosions occured across the Northern Hemisphere, killing thousands and causing uncountable amounts of property damage. To make matter worse, several of those blasts took place near high security prisons housing dangerous inmates, many of them metahumans themselves, some of them too powerful for police or even military forcess to subdue.
But then Doom Slayer, with the aid of many other vigilantes, intervened to put a stop to the chaos across the planet.
The Atlantean military performing humanitarian actions on Europe and Northern Africa after the explosions, their arrival hastened thanks to Doom Slayer's portals shortening the travel.
Lex Luthor saving Supergirl from Metallo, yet refusing to escape.
Uehara Daizo, finally killed for his crimes by Spartan and Wolf Princess, with the aid of a timely arrived Solomon Grundy.
And finally, Doom Slayer not only killing the infamous mercenary Bane, saving Batman's life and stopping the breakout, but also capturing several dangerous inmates after they escaped the asylum and taking them to his Fortress in Mars.
King Orrin, known by most as Aquaman, was praised for his quick actions, even though he said he wouldn't have been able to act in time if not for Slayer's help. Nonetheless, United Nations commended him and his forces for their quick actions and delivery of aid, taking another step in the surface-underwater relations both sides had started months prior.
Interestingly, Doctor Foster didn't praise Doom Slayer as many thought (or hoped) he would after being asked his opinion, but rather simply noted that he had done what many would have done if they had had the resources and will to do so, something that Slayer definitely had, and them some thanks to his portal technology and allies.
Doctor Wolper, on the other hand, practically screamed that the latter was a violation of human rights, that Slayer had no right of keeping them imprisoned and away from human contact, and that their captivity would only worsen their problems.
"Who the hell cares about a bunch of self-admitted villains? Granted, this… Mister Freeze guy has a tragic story, he even has my sympathies, and that's no mean feat from me. But the others are respectively an insane, murderous attorney obsessed with tossing coin, a misanthropic ecoterrorist with the power of raising an entire army of murderous trees, and a flesh-eating, reptilian mutant. What better place to keep them away from society than a castle in the middle of a dead planet under the constant watch of a super soldier from the far future? A soldier that is also more than willing of doing what the justice system should had done to them the moment they started killing. Now, if only he had straight up whacked that clown and his army of psychos and nutjobs…"
Indeed nobody knew why the Joker, having such an opportunity to escape alongside his 'troops', instead decided to stay in his cell during the riot, not even bothering to give an answer when certain individuals asked. Some theorized that he had planned to escape through other means, but the mass breakout ruined his plans. Others simply chalked his attitude to insanity.
Then, there was the fact Slayer hadn't said anything after going back to the Fortress after saving Batman. Not even the other superheroes knew what was making him stay up there.
Rachel was still suffering the neverending nightmare that bastard had casted on her. Even though she wasn't a mere sorceress, the spell still affected her, forcing her to sleep. She didn't know for how long had she been asleep, only that the torture continued even as the dreams of inky monsters forced her to close her eyes. Oh, she still felt the blades and rods piercing and hitting her body, but the nightmare overrode the pain.
Everything began one day during her stay in Cyprus, right after leaving her class (she had taken to teaching english), she met a man, a charming one, who entered her academy. All in all, he seemed nice, not enough to settle down with (even without her little problem and the fact she'd remain young for a long time), but a good man otherwise.
And then one day, after the man invited her to dinner, he punched her in the face into unconciousness. At least he didn't drug her, nor take the necklace from her mother.
At first she thought he had to be one of her father's agents, despite his looks and background. As much as she loved her mother, she doubted her magic prowess. Only, it turned out to be just some guy serving a goatee'd man, one that didn't waste time in proding her. For what, she didn't really know: her magic, her blood, just some sacrifice that needed some 'tenderization'… Neither he nor his cronies bothered to actually interrogate her. All she knew was that they tortured her to the point her body began creating nightmares just to avoid feeling actual pain.
And then, one day, the pain finally stopped, and right after that so did the nightmares.
All she managed to hear was 'beaten, but fine' and 'let her sleep for real' before consciousness left her once, but this time taking her to the land of true, pleasant dreams.
And she found herself facing a green-furred, spotted cat sitting on top of her, which in turn was looking at her right in the eye. If not for the fact her body was sore, and it being just a baby by the looks of it she would have rolled out of the bed.
"Hi?" She asked.
The cat didn't reply, instead continuing to look at her with its bright, green eyes. Something told her this was no ordinary little big cat (leopard, if her memory served her right, and a cub given the proportions), but her body was still too tired to detect anything.
Rachel, after a minute or so of the leopard doing nothing, decided to take a look around, to try to discern where she was. Despite the advanced-looking medical devices on the room, the were made of stone, and in fact it reminder her of a cathedral she had gone to when younger. Not finding much, she looked back at the leopard.
"Have you been looking at me all day?" She asked with a smile. The cub, rather than meowing, purring or doing something like that as she thought it would, nodded as if to confim her question, surprising her.
And then it glowed green with such intensity she had to close her eyes. When she opened them again, she found herself facing a green skinned human boy. He had pointed ears, and of course there was the skin and hair color, but aside from that he seemed normal. Seemed, because the sheer surprised had kickstarted her body and made her realize he had magic on himself, although not enough to know what kind.
"Indeed he has, even though I didn't ask him to." She heard a deep, baritone speak.
The one at the right, the smaller of the two, she recognized instantly: John Constantine, occult detective and middling spellcaster, mostly known for being an authority-hating drunkard with morally ambiguous dealings. Not that she was free of sin, but she didn't deal with souls or demons, and everything she had done she did to survive, not to get rich or spite.
"And here I thought you'd have to kiss her or something to wake her up." He muttered, prompting Slayer to look at him. "I mean, think about it: valiant knight and snarky wizard go into the evil overlord's lair and exterminte his army, kills him then saves the princess… Shit, I'm starting to think like that monkey of Bruce."
But Rachel was not paying attention to Constantine, because the other man, much taller and broader than his companion, was Doom Slayer himself, without his signature helmet.
Rachel's eyes widened in a mix of amazement and dread as she looked upon Doom Slayer, head bare and allowing her to see his beard and buzzcut. She knew he was large, taller and broader of shoulders than any man she knew of, but a combination of grogginess, fear and her laying position made him seem like a literal giant. And he was looking right at her. And then out of the blue she began to feel some power radiating from him, not like the boy or Constantine, not exactly magical but still supernatural, and yet more powerful than either combined, maybe even hers, but it didn't feel demonic in nature. The fact he was with Constantine of all people didn't help matters?
And yet, he was supposed to be a man from the future, wasn't he? Just who, or what, was he?
"Good morning, Rachel." Slayer spoke once more. "I hope you had a good dream?"
"Yes, yes I did, thanks to you. You have to be the ones who have rescued me."
"My name, as you know, is Doom Slayer." Seeing Rachel's raised eyebrow, he clarified." It's my real name, not an epiphet. This here is my associate and friend, John…"
"Constantine." Rachel finished, her annoyed tone causing the raggedy man to look at her.
"How the fuck do you know about me?"
"It'll be harder to not know of you, even for those who haven't seen your face." Rachel said with a scoff. Again, he wasn't a bad person per se, but he did make deals with demons. That thought reminded her of a little tidbit: even with her necklace still working, her father could still reach her. That was the sole reason she had been wandering across the world after her mother died.
"Well, the Sleeping Beauty is finally awake. I could say some stupid crap about 'my job here is done' or something in the same line, but…" Constantine began to say, confusing Rachel.
"Are you? After all these months together, I thought you'd stay." Doom Slayer replied with something akin to a smile, a smile that Constantine, to Rachel's consternation, eagerly returned.
"No, but I had to say it anyway, didn't I?" He rolled his shoulders. "Still, methinks this is something you are better prepared to tell her yourself." With that the magician left the room, leaving Rachel, Doom Slayer and the boy, who had jumped out of the bed to sit on the floor.
"He's staying?"
"He's one of the reason's we found you. And no, not by smelling your scent. I believe you can feel the energy from him."
Rachel nodded. "Thanks for rescuing me from that bastard, but I must go." Rachel then tried to stand up, but then the boy got on top of her once more, a worried expression on his face. "It's okay, I'm better."
"It's not about your state, at least not completely. There's nothing to fear. You are safe in my fortress."
Despite everything, Rachel couldn't help but chuckle at that. "No place is safe for me."
"The Fortress is protected against any and all demonic entities that haven't been brought here directly by either the Slayer or spells by friendlies, even your father." A voice that seemed to come from the walls said. Rachel looked around, surprised and even scared, but not by the voice.
"My father? How do you know of him?" There was the possibility of Constantine telling him, but she didn't register that thought at the moment, frantic as she was.
Doom Slayer sighed "It's a long story, one that involves your mother, or rather, her efforts to protect you, which I believe you have to know. It also involves Garfield, and a certain someone you have met before; of how we found you. But before all that, I think you should know another story."
Rachel didn't like the direction this was going, but at the same time he hadn't done anything to make her try to escape (his home being on Mars nonwithstanding). Him talking about her mother and her efforts to protect her just helped to muddle it. "Whose story are you talking about?"
"Mine."
Rachel is finally awake, but things aren't over for her yet, nd the SI is going to tell her Doom Slayer's story because of a plethora of reasons, chiefest of all Rachel being savvy and smart enough, plus magical, to eventually discover what he really is, and so is better to tell her first before she makes assumptions. Also,could the guys who like one or two chapters or just the latest one try to give a like to all?
DaneNagai said:
Well, in a way, you did give me some ideas ever since I got hooked on your story. I would've imported the story here on Spacebattles but I didn't want to steal your turf, mate. Not to mention, there'd be too many similar elements that would probably lean on plagiarism. Radically different approaches, but elements all the same. Still, I enjoy the story in spite of the flaws.
Click to expand…
Click to shrink…
Dude, Justice: Rip and Tear is literally the sole reason I'm writing Until It's Done. Also, thanks for reading it!
Birth of the League
By the time I finished my tale (peppered with some recording of the invasions), Rachel had a look of utter astonishment on her face.
"You are a g-." She began to say before I interrupted her.
"Not from this dimension." She knew what I was, and I knew what I was, but I didn't want to be reminded of it. Brought memories, painful ones, that I did not want to dig out from the deepest reaches of my mind for reasons that were my own. "Other than that, you're now safe. Your father has no power here."
But she wasn't convinced. "Nowhere is safe for me. There's no place in this universe that my father cannot send his forces to get to me; even if we kill them, he'll just send stronger and more of them, pushed by either lust of power or fear of Trigon's wrath"
"Then I'll just have to kill every last one of them until they fear me more than they fear him. I've fought worse, killed worse than any demon, devil and fiend that this dimension's Hell can spawn… or deities for that matter." Getting rid of Trigon permanently had been one of the goals I had added to my list, but until that moment it hadn't come up for various reasons.
Her eyes locked onto mine, not exactly wide horror or astonishment, but it was obvious she had an idea of what I was thinking and wasn't keen on it.
"I don't plan on a trip to Hell just for a chance to fight him, if that's what you fear." I reassured her. However, seeeing that her apprehensive stare didn't leave, I decided to clarify: "At least not yet. But believe me, I'm not going to do nothing as he loses his patience and decides to send all his legions to take you, and neither will my friends."
Rachel sighed. "Still, despite everything you have shown to me, everything you have done, I don't think you nor your friends can kill my father just like that. And even if you do, killing a god of his caliber could have unforeseen consequences." She then looked down. "And I'm just some halfbreed bastard."
"Don't say that." I didn't know what had compelled her to call herself a bastard despite the fact Trigon didn't even bother to seduce Arella and raped her outright.
"It wouldn't be just because of you. Your father has been a scourge to this realm for far too long. But again, the trip will have to wait, at least for the foreesable future. But for now you are safe in my Fortress."
I spent the rest of the day showing her around the Fortress, its history and layout mostly.
And then she saw Grundy.
There are no words in this universe capable of describing the sheer joy that Rachel felt when she hugged Grundy, and when he hugged her back. She still remembered him even after all these years, partly because of just meeting him, partly because Solomon Grundy was her mother's favourite lullaby.
"Never thought I'd ever see you since then."
"I'm happy to see you too."
And then there was her second meeting with Garfield. Let's just say she had never met children like him before.
Still, her words about her father had lot of truth behind them. I could take on him, even kill him, but it was not yet the time for it, and even if I decided to invade Hell that would force to leave Earth for an unknown amount of time, time certain people would gladly take advantage of even with the others still there, especially with those who weren't metas… unless they could go to the disturbance in a second's notice. That, and it simply being fate.
It was time for the Justice League to be born in this dimension.
And so, a week after Rachel woke up, I asked all the heroes I knew of (Bruce, Clark, Arthur, Pausanias and Ayame, and all their friends and companions) to come to the Fortress for an important announcement. Needless to say, the castle had never been host to this many people before in its life. As for why all of them instead of just the aforementioned five, I did it for several reasons, one of them familiarize them and Rachel with each other.
That he might have thought of it as me rubbing in his face I exterminted the League of Assassins didn't escape me.
"So, you're saying that Ra's al Ghul had been torturing you?" Zatanna asked Rachel as I prepared the meeting room after the excitement of meeting a (non assholish and female) fellow magic-user was drowned by the horror of what happened to her, and the fact her father was more or less a god of evil.
"And would have done far worse if Slayer and John hadn't put a stop to him."
"Damn. I mean, I knew he was bad, but torture? At least he didn't… well, you know."
"I've called all of you here to ask you something." Almost everyone wasa paying attention to me. Pausanias, however, was only half-heartedly listening, more interested in the walls than me. Not that I could blame him of course, at least from his point of view.
"Go on."
"I'll make it simple: alone, each of us is strong; in small groups like you from Tokyo, capable of dealing with most threats out there. But together we'd be able to stop any and all threats. VEGA."
The floor opened to reveal a table that rose, its board covered in silvery bracelets, each of them forged by me.
I grabbed one to show what they could do. "These bracelets will allow you to communicate with VEGA. Aside from portals, he can also serve as a beacon in case you require assistance, relay you information and hack into anything you need hacked. Nothing on this planet can withstand him, and in turn nothing and no one can hack into him." I didn't bother to look at you-know-who. "They cannot be reverse-engineered either, so nothing will happen if they're lost."
"And they can explode to boot." John continued for me. "Obviously we aren't going to give you proof of it here, but believe me when I say that these things put C4 to shame. Kaboom."
"I can also serve as a rudirentary detective if the situation requires it."
"I think you got yourself a new friend in VEGA, hey Bats?" Wally said with a smile while nudging Bruce, prompting him to grunt.
"I have to admit, having a portal network and a super computer guy would make our routine easier. I'm fast, but I'm no Flash. Pluse, these also look nice, don't they?" Ayame admitted. Again, Pausanias said nothing, but he did nod in agreement. I knew the problem he had with me, but I believed that this would help in easying him into accepting me (again).
"Like a bunch of superfriends, fighting crime and being corny?" Wally joked. "Or G.I Joe in your case."
That actually got me to chuckle. "Not exactly, but the idea is similar. Call it a league, a Justice League if you like."
Clark was the first to realize the connections with a certain hero group. "A… 'Justice League'? Like the old Justice Guild of America?"
"It ain't a guild if you don't get paid for it, but pretty much." John quipped. "You won't get paid either, but you either have good standing jobs or are stinking rich."
I nodded. "Indeed. They did good in their time, and I thought we could continue their job; call it a spiritual continuation of them, and on a multinational scale. And besides, something with a more violent name would give people the wrong idea, even though they already know us."
Arthur nodded. "Yeah, I don't think they'll react warmly to a group of metas calling themselves 'Avengers' or something like that, especially if some of them either use lethal or are not really against it."
And then Bruce asked the question. "And the inmates? What do you plan do to with them?"
"I plan on reforming them."
They were understandable puzzled by this. "'Reform'?" Wally parroted. "All four of them?
"Yes, all of them, even the ones you don't think can be helped. They all have the capacity to do good just like us, be it fighting or curing; all they need is a change of mind and a good push, a push I'll give to them. But I'll do it my way, not Arkham's."
"Yeah, no that talking and listening crap from Arkham, but something that will get results."
"Even Killer Croc? You know, the giant cannibalistic lizard man?" Ayame pointed out. "I mean, he's not the only one out there, but many yokai that do so do it out of instinct; he eats people out of spite, doesn't he?"
"He can still change for the better, with some help. Besides, I'm more than willing to brutally execute those who jump over the line. He can do the same thing; I also plan to release his life to the public so that they, while not forgiving, might be able to understand why was he like that." That said, Waylon's case was a special one compared to the other three, and not just because he was a known man-eater, something you'll see further ahead.
"Or you could also cure his condition." Bruce said, crossing his arms as he did so.
"Bulletproof skin, regenerative tissue, inhuman strength, and much more that would go away if I made him human again. He only wants to be cured to be accepted by other people; they'll have to accept him if they want him to be like us, and not the monster they think he is, like it or not." Again, it wasn't so simple, but at that moment I believed they didn't need to know that.
"Okay, I think that's a pretty good argument."
Clark shrugged with a small smile. "Well, if there's someone in this world able to make a good person out of Killer Croc, that has be you."
Bruce narrowed his eyes at both of us, obviously not liking the possible situations that were appearing on his mind. "And what, exactly, do you have planned for them?"
"Just wait and see, Bruce, just wait and see."
I know, pretty short chapter given what it transpires on it and the fact the story is now officially over a year long, plus the rather crappy resolution to Rachel's arc and the simple fact it's the origin chapter of the fucking Justice League but… yeah, I've no excuse. Now, it's time to 'reform' the four prisoners of the Fortress. Also I've started writing a Skyrim self insert (Shadows and Dust) that throws the storyline out of the window, and doesn't make the SI the Dovahkiin. You could have a look at it.
Barbaric Bob said:
yes, but also
UNGA BUNGA
View: https//watch?v=vU-dXeJgAK4 _channel=MegaBearsFan
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Nookzer said:
He UNGA BUNGAS intellegently.
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Boomburst said:
In fairness, I genuinely do believe Doomslayer was more than capable of going the intellectual path and doing everything in a calm manner.
He knows it will piss off Hayden if he unga bungas, and that brings a bit of a smirk on his face.
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No, no, no, you got it all wrong. In Slayer's case it's more like
OOGA BOOGA (UNF)
ScarredPunLover said:
In other words
Reject modernity
RETURN TO MONKE
In all seriousness, seeing Vega or Doomslayer post a video/documentary of the Slayer's life/past to the internet with "real footage" would be interesting/funny to see, if only because I want to know how Earth would react to what is quite literally a "man too angry to die."
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Meowsers said:
Also, he really wasn't happy with anyone using hell's energies to do anything. He KNOWS what it could lead to; what it did lead to.
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Yeah. I'd rather live in a stone age society (medieval was already taken, hi-tech as it was) than risk the literal End Times just to power my toaster.
Last edited: Jul 22, 2022
Talking with Grundy
A week after forming the League, crime around the world seemed to simply cease to exist; mixing superfast beings like Supermand Flash with portals that could open in any part of Earth does that. Granted, there were a lot of naysayers complaining about the liberal use of my portal network, but aside from them nobody really cared about the violation of boundaries due to the results and our combined image as heroes. As for the remnants of the League of Assassins, I dealt with them myself. They would no longer be a scourge on this planet.
As for John and the pit, well, let's just say that mystical pits that can bring the dead back to life, powerful but unskilled stage magicians and pieces of taxidermy shouldn't mix, and let's leave it at that.
I still remember that lion from Sweden moving despite being nothing but fur and skin and Zatanna screams.
Seeing that no world-threatening danger was in sight, I decided to start my next project: reform villains, starting with the ones living in the Fortress. That, and something that ocurred to me after watching Garfield watch a nature documentary with a forlorn look, something that required the cooperation of Grundy… who had become distant a couple days after Rachel's awakening.
Not wanting to aggravate him, I raked my mind for a solution. At first I didn't understand his distant attitude and desire to stay away from me, even as I asked Rachel if she knew if something was wrong with Grundy.
And then a thought struck Rachel: Ra's al Ghul. Not him possibly returning, of course, but the fact I had killed him myself… after promising Grundy, if a long time ago, that he'd be the one to do the deed. I had robbed Grundy of the payback I had promised him. The fact that she was the one to tell me this spoke volumes of just how far it had slipped my mind.
Grundy had grown a giant tree near the ironworks to perch on and stare at the martian horizon, more morose than really angry. This was yet another show of his increasing mastery over the Green, given that all he needed was a seed. Climbing the tree was of course easy; the hard part would be talking to Grundy, if not by much.
"Say, how long did you say until people might actually come here to live?" He asked me as I reached him and sat next to him.
"Five to seven months, maybe less with the more adventurous ones. Thinking about the environment and the possible damage the settlers might do to it?" Akane and her boyfriend had finally fulfilled their report on Mars and decided to go back to Japan. It still took some time for them to get some recognition, but in the end their was accepted, if with some skepticism.
Grundy chortled. "'Environment'? This planet, or at least its surface, is dead . Dry and cold. Unless someone, let's say you, decides to bring true life back to it, everything anyone might do will be more or less taking advantage of a giant corpse. So, how's Rachel doing? I mean now."
"She's taken a liking to Garfield." Indeed, even though their first interactions had been awkward to say the least, eventually he fully warmed up to her. It helped that she too could turn into animals to make it easier for him to accept her. She, in turn, was simply happy to be with a child that didn't seem bothered by her unsettling skin colour. As for me, just the fact I gave no damns about her bloodline despite my past, and the obvious, was enough.
"Ha, now that's something you don't see every day. You know, I think I know where is that going. Pretty sure you do, too. Hell, I think you know why am I like this."
"Is it about not killing Ra's? Rachel told me."
Grundy nodded. "I'm not going to mope about it, I'm not some stupid brat laser-focused in revenge and willing to do stupid things like resurrecting a bad guy just to kill him myself. But still, I'm not going to let go of it like that either. Give me a week or more to sulk about it; after that, I'll be fine."
Understandable, given that Ra's was, while not the sole reason he was himself, definitely the main one, and of course the one who had him tortured and killed. He said best himself, no point moping for something that couldn't be reversed. "I'll do that, alright."
"Thanks. Is there anything else you want from me?"
I nodded. "There is. I want you to talk to Poison Ivy."
Grundy rose an eyebrow at that. "Poison Ivy? You mean the plant nut?" Being the avatar of the Green, Grundy had a much greater comprehension of plant life than Ivy did. Therefore, he reached a simple conclusion: she was, despite what many thought (including Ivy herself), an insane misanthrope who merely used her eco-terrorism as an excuse to exercise her power over those who couldn't fight back, no matter the fact she actually cared about plants.
Victor, Harvey, and even Waylon could be redeemed to be either heroes or able to live among normal people, if with some unconventional help. Ivy, however? There simply was no helping her get out of her mindset. Then again, she had lost my sympathy the moment I found out she killed two hundred people before my arrival. Waylong had the excuse of suffering of an extreme form of atavism, but Ivy could only feel the pain of certain plans close to her location, not the entire fucking Green. Grundy could, all the time, and the fact he didn't become homicidal, or even care for that matter, spoke volumes of her delusion.
She wouldn't be killed, though. I'd do to her what I did to Luthor, but first she had to feel the pain she had caused on her flesh, to suffer as much as she had made others, and who else but the real guardian of the Green to do so?
That said, someone had to protect the world's forests from that kind of thing. Not actual logging since they could just rotate for the trees to grow back and thus not damage the environment irreparably, but fields and such. They're neither profitable nor lasting due to the bad soil.
"Grundy, do you feel the pain plants feel as they die?"
"Not from up here."
"And down there?"
"Hundreds of hectares are lost per day, but it's just an itch at most." He said with a shrug. "I mean, I'm a zombie, so it's not like I can actually feel anything."
"And yet you do."
"Yes, I do." He then looked down at me, a quizzical expression on his face. "Am I going to like where this is going?"
"I'd like you to try and help the world's rainforests. Despite everything, her ideas weren't bad, just the overall purpose and execution."
"You want me to kill loggers in the Amazon? I mean, at the very least some of them don't have other options, if what they say in TV is true."
"No, no, I don't mean killing… in general." Let's be honest in this: this wasn't normal Earth, but DC Earth, where tycoons and magnates cut down entire jungles out of greed, power, to discover secrets that could endanger mankind, or simple spite; some killing would end up being necessary anyway. But that wasn't the reason. "Besides, you wouldn't be doing it just for Earth's biosphere, but the people that depened on it."
First, though, I had to bring a man with a cold heart the way keep it warm… permanently.
Short chapter with not that much in general, but don't worry, the next one will be either longer or have more meat. Also, I've started a Stellaris self insert which is basically a Planetary Annihilation one, except the SI is not a robot (it's literally in the title, 'I ain't a giant robot'), he's got a clone army, and while obviosly powerful is not truly OP, plus also dealing with diplomacy, economics (if barely) and the consequences of something that powerful going into other universes, even though that last part has just begun.
ScarredPunLover said:
Random question: in the hypothetical universe where this would be a comic series/where the Slayer is a DC character, what would the arc/series/movie names be? I have a couple examples for them in mind, but want to know what others think. (most of these examples are just random, I have no idea what each event's story would be about…)
Justice League: Argent War
War in Hell/Two Hells
Argent Justice
Slayer: Demonsbane
The Blade of DOOM
Justice League: Apostasy (I imagine this would be related to The Ancient Gods parts 1 and 2)
(That type of thing is called a Negaverse, right? I'm unfamiliar with the term but saw it tossed around for fan omakes in certain fanfics on SB, with the omake in question being a "discussion board" discussing chapters of the fic as if it were episodes of the show it was based on.)
Random Note: While trying to find Justice League: Doom (the movie where Vandal Savage steals Batman's plans to defeat the Justice League and uses them, which is all I remembered about it, couldn't remember the name), it occurred to me that the movie might have to be renamed slightly…
Question related to above note: In this… negaverse, what would the inevitable comic where the Doom Slayer fights the entirety of his Universe be called? (I imagine it would be a more serious "Deadpool kills the MU")
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There's only one Doom Slayer, even though he's a self inserted guy
. So, no 'Doom Slayer kills the DCU' or evil Doom Slayer. Still, those are good ideas for omakes.
As for the hypothetical titles, yours are nice, but a tad direct and blunt. They'd be more biblical/religious in tone or not as heavy due to DOOM's origins and the stuff it deals with taken seriously, like for example:
-Abandon All Hope.
-See No Evil.
-At Doom's Gate, Inferno and the titles from the game that seem fitting.
-Deliver Us from Evil.
-Judgement Day/Apocalypse.
-Hell Hath No Fury
-The Unholy Crusade.
-Hells Breaks Loose.
And so on.
Thawing a Cold Heart
Victor, bereft of his armor (not that he needed it at the moment, his new 'home' was acclimatized for him), an hour or so after being captured, was sitting on his cell, waiting for the giant soldier to go in and do as he had done to many others before him. Unlike either Poison Ivy or Killer Croc, the ones he shared walls will (he didn't see what was Dent doing, the door was opaque), he knew that putting up resistance was futile.
"I'm sorry Nora." That's all he said, just once, before falling silent after the realization that he wouldn't see his wife ever again struck him.
He was going to die. It was a question of when, not if, and there was nothing he could to to avoid his fate, aside from accepting it… and the fact that Nora would end up dying, if not at Slayer's hands: either the disease finally finished her off, or the stasis would overcome her system and kill her anyway without him being there to control it.
Still, either possibility was better than the alternative, as impossible as it seemed even to him: Doom Slayer turning his wrath on Nora.
Victor didn't cry, he didn't weep at his misfortune or rage at the world he had blamed for his mistakes. All he could do was to wait on that miserable cell, on a cold and silent castle, in a remote and foreboding planet, as Slayer decided to splatter him all over the walls for his crimes.
He sighed and rubbed his face dejectedly. "At least I'll be able to say to Minos that I tried." He then began to wonder to what ring did killers like him (men tempered by the cold and using it in their murders) end up. Wrath? Treachery? He wasn't a particularly religious man, but before being taken he had always hoped that maybe, just maybe, God would take pity on Nora (Victor knew where he'd end up after dying, and had long sincce accepted it) and do a miracle, just a little one, to save her.
He probably decided that she had a part on his sins and had to share punishment. Or not, he didn't know, nor care.
And then, after several days of doing nothing but eat tasteless food and pushing away false hopes of survival, he finally heard it. The steps of something large and heavy moving through the area. Ivy stopped her incessant wailing, but Croc didn't stop roaring and slamming himself.
And then said footsteps stopped right in front of his door.
Victor sighed and straightened himself. It was his time, but at least he'd die with some dignity left. Of course, anything that might happen to his cadaver afterwards would another matter, but still.
The door to his cell opened, revealing the hulking shape of Doom Slayer… who was without his now iconic helmet, showing his bearded face and hardened eyes to Victor.
And then he spoke. His voice was even colder than his own.
"Victor." He said.
At this Victor's eyes widened. He called him by his real name, not the nickname given to him. Something was off, he just knew.
"No, I haven't planned on killing you, despite what you may have been thinking these last days. You are not hard to read, and not just your face."
Victor's eyes widened further for a second before narrowing, still trying to not paint himself as a possible threat. "Then what are you going to do?"
Rather than replying, Doom Slayer extended his left arm. Victor flinched, thinking he'd slam him against the wall, but instead Slayer simply raised the arm to his eye level and opened his clenched hand, revealing a cylinder-shaped object.
Victor stared at the thing, confused, and not just by the fact he wasn't dead… yet. "What is this?"
"It's a data file, assembled entirely by me." Doom Slayer began to explain. "It contains the recipe for the cure of Huntington's Chorea, plus something for your own condition that will allow you to be able to walk under the sun alongside her, but keep your resistance against the cold."
Victor didn't reply, busy as he was staring at the cylinder with wide, open eyes.
It had to be, with such technology at Doom Slayer's disposition.
It then occurred to him that had he had gone to Slayer the moment he proved his technological might, Nora would already be walking under the sun. Not that it mattered at that moment, but still, it gave him food for thought.
"Despite everything you have done, the lives you have taken, and what people think of you, you are not a monster in human skin like many others back on Earth, merely a man whose desperation clouded his mind and messed with his moral compass."
"But why not cure her yourself?"
Doom Slayer's response was, of course, blunt and straight to the point, but also… "She's your wife, not mine. You're the one who has done anything you could to save her life, if by ruining yours."
Tears began falling from Victors face as the realization finally struck him: after three years of pain, loss and sorrow, of destroying other people's lives in a fruitless attempt to save a single one, Nora would be cured! She'd talk, laugh and dance under the sunlight again! Hell, so would he!
But the, did Doom Slayer did it entirely out of the goodness of hish heart! It would be completely in character, but still, he had to make sure it was real.
"How can I thank you for this?"
Victor swore he could see a small smirk on Slayer's face before he spoke. "Use your power for good. Not just your mind, but also your body."
Victor's smile dropped. 'For good', he said. Victor felt the need to laugh: after everything he had done, the only thing he deserved was a bullet between his eyes, and it wasn't just him who thought of that.
"I can give it a try, but the public may not accept it. They won't forgive me."
"They forgave Superman, didn't they? And they accept me despite my actions, and believe me when I say that my killcount is both much, much higher than yours, and wholly intentional. Plus, Nora's not the only one affliced with the chorea: hundreds of thousands of lives can be saved… will be saved, and it'll be from your hand, not mine. The common man likes that. And at the very least, you'll be the one who will actually make the cure; this is just the recipe."
Still overwhelmed by these sudden news, Victor stood there, unable to do anything. But then Doom Slayer spoke and reminded him of the reason he was still alive.
"Don't you have a wife to cure first?"
Nora just wanted it to end.
Unlike what some believe, the 'ice gun' that Mr. Freeze had, and by extension most of the technology he created, could be used to put someone in a state similar to stasis, slowing their metabolism to a crawl and practically stopping their aging proccess, if they were taken care of to a point of course. Still, the freezing didn't affect several parts so that the patient could still live, like of course the heart, and the brain. That meant they were fully conscious under the ice.
Just like a certain Nora Fries, who trapped as she was in Victor's hideout, now longed for a death that might not come fast enough for her.
She hated what her husband had become, all just so she could walk under the sun, neglecting his own life. His desire didn't stop when that bastard Boyle was defeated, and in fact it only got worse. She wished that at least her mouth was free to tell him, to implore him to stop before he did something that he would regret and before his heart froze permanently, that curing her wasn't worth damning himself. But all she could do was watch as her husband became laser-focused on her, and her alone, colder and colder every day that passed.
But then, one day, Victor didn't return. And neither he did in the next, nor the following ones. She didn't know what happen: maybe he couldn't escape from wherever they took him this time, maybe he gave up, or maybe simply died. Either way she reached a conclusion: he wouldn't be coming back, and by extension she'd die.
And then one day, something entered her body. Then, after that happened, her ice cocoon began to melt.
And then, after falling to the ground and gasping for breath she never thought she'd have, she felt someone raising her body.
"V-victor?"
And indeed he was: his blue skin, Arkham's orange uniform, that scar he received the last time she saw him, the smile he had when he talked to her… Only this time, he didn't have the armor on. And his smile was happy, joyous, warm… and contagious.
"Y-your armor…"
Victor's smile widened further still. "I didn't want it to get it between us. You are free, my love. I am free."
She didn't get to see a large, man-shaped silhouette leaving as quickly as it came.
I think the chapter may be a bit corny, crappier, and definitely shorter than usual. I'm afraid the following ones will probably be not much longer, since the issues that are being dealt with are of the easily resolved variant. Still, I hope you like how's the story going.
The death of Two-Face
Once again, Doom Slayer's actions had shaken the world, this time by helping the infamous Mr. Freeze to create a cure for a deadly disease, Huntington's Chorea, a disease which incidentally, and seemingly, was the sole reason he turned to villainy all those years prior: his wife had contracted it; his freezing motif and technology were a bioproduct of his attempts to presserve her in stasis until he could find a cure. Slayer himself said Victor did most of the heavy work, but most people believed he still had an involvement. Others, either less forgiving or more suspicious, refused to believe he could have done it at all.
Didn't change the fact he also swore to atone for his crimes by becoming what no one until then thought he could be, Victor himself included: a hero. Thanks to his suit and cryocannon, he'd more than able to be one. In fact, he had announced he no longer would go by Mr. Freeze, but by a name he himself had made: Glacier. A fitting name, many supposed.
Still, despite having just saved thousands of life, many people didn't believe that the former criminal should be walking among decent folk. In the end, a compromise was reached: doctor Fries would spend a month in a secret installation to help the development of certain technologies, after which he would truly become a free man with his wife, to spend the rest of his life with her. Foster was practically singing praises to Doom Slayer for doing what those who didn't wish to kill Fries outright still wanted him to stop: help him cure his wife.
But unknown to many of them (some had an idea, others believed it to happen), Doom Slayer had just started to do something that no one had ever bothered to do, either on that universe or any other.
Redeem people that the public saw as little more than monsters that should have remained shackled in the depths of Arkham. And he had did it with one out of four.
It was time to turn the two into one again.
Harvey Dent, as he had done the last two weeks, stared at the opaque glass door to his cell, all while holding the coin. The Other (it was shorter than Big Bad Harv) had been silent all this time, and so he didn't have the need to flick it. Still, just the fact the Other didn't speak for fifteen days worried him.
Harvey knew he was doomed. This guy, the Doom Slayer they called him, was no simple vigilante. Oh, no, he ws a real killer of men, men like Harvey, one that didn't give a damn about the public's reaction. He exterminated an entire army of metahumans, one simple man like him and the Other wouldn't matter. He had heard the footsteps of that man-shaped monster walk in front of his cell, seen his shape, but the man seemed content in making him squirm in dread instead of just finishing him off.
"Bastard…" He growled under his breath, before sighing and looking at the coin. "He's not the only one."
If only the Other would actually speak to him again. Those last years he had been the only one he could talk to, the only one he could trust (even though he admittedly had no other option, what with sharing the same body. And then, he disappeared the moment they ended up in that cell. The worst part was that he could still feel him inside, 'alive' yet unresponding. He had called, even cursed him a few times, but he didn't respond. For the first time, he was by himself.
It scared him.
And then, a blue vortex opened right below Harvey, giving him no time to even scream as it swallowed him. For what seemed to be an eternity, the former gang leader fell through some kind of blue… vein, for lack of a better term to describe the experience. Eventually, however, the makeshit ride ended, dropping Harvey in a dry, hot cave, illuminated by a strange orange glow coming from a large opening on the ground at the back of the cave. Harvey, still partly blind, stood up and looked around, approached the crater…
"Oh, god…"
… and recoiled back in pure terror, because he found himself staring into Hell itself. It had to be: the fire, the heat, the fumes, the shaking… Even the lake of fire, so bright and hot that both his eyes seemed to melt before he stepped away from the ledge. His time to pay for his sins had come.
Or at least that what he thought, before the deep voice of a man spoke from behind him.
"This is not Hell. If it were, you'd been tortured the moment your foot touched the soil." Harvey turned around to find out who it was: Doom Slayer himself, standing right behind him like some demented parody of an angel.
"Then where the hell are we?" Harvey demanded, fear of the volcano overriding his fear of the man. It also made him not realize that the ground was starting to shake, slowly and lightly so, but surely.
"Just a volcano about to explode." Slayer replied in the same tone someone would use when discussing the weather. Of course he would speak like that! He could take an entire mountain worth of molten rock and live, Harvey couldn't!
Harvey looked at the man, terrified now of him, as the ground began to quake. Was this how Slayer planned to execute him, kick him into an active volcano about to erupt as some demented hawaiian sacrifice?!
He turned around once more. Despite everything, he still wanted to know more before being executed and having his body burned to hide the evidence.
"What the hell is going on?! Why did you bring me here?!"
"To make sure that Two-Face pays for his crimes."
This guy had to be retarted or something, or maybe one of those deluded nutjobs who liked to reveal their insanity to their victims before offing them. Why else hadn't he killed him already? "Then kill me and be done with it!"
Slayer shook his helmet. "I think you've misunderstood me. I said Two-Face, not Harvey Dent."
"What?" Suddenly, another portal opened right behind the man.
"Big Bad Harv has to die. Either he dies and you come out a free man, or both of you do, but Two-Face cannot get out. Oh, and don't try. It can detect Harv's brainwaves inside your skull."
With that Doom Slayer turned around and left through the portal, leaving Harvey behind.
The portal was still open, Harvey could escape (or at least try to, if what Slayer said was true)… but something was stopping him. And it wasnt' fear. Someone had appeared in front of him, someone who seemed to have come out of a tank of acid. Someone with his face.
It was Harv. As in, the mutilated half with his own body. And then there were his eyes, full of resignation.
"Harvey."
"Harv?"
"Toss the coin."
Harvey, not caring that Harv was somehow out of his body, gave him a crazed look. "Do you really think it's the time to flick the damn thing?!"
But the other, to his shock, shook his head. "No, I mean toss it inside. Drop it in the lava, get rid of it."
"Drop it?!"
"I'm not coming out of this alive, that brute will make sure of it, and frankly, being alone in that cell has given me lots of thing to think about, to regret,… but you? You still can."
Again, Harvey was bewildered. "Look at us! No, look at you! Hated, loathed, feared for obeying a figment of your imagination that you allowed to consume you!Why the sudden change in attitude, Harv?!"
Harv sighed as the Volcano began to shake harder and harder, the rising temperature a sign that the lava was rising. "I told you already, haven't I? I don't you want you to die, to pay for what I did."
"I was the one doing it!"
"And who do you think, what do you think, compelled you to do it till the bitter end?"
"For heaven's sake… Harvey, this is the only chance you have to have a normal life."
Harv then disappeared. Then, to his horror, Harvey began to walk to the edge, to the shearing heat, the coing held by his left hand, the one Big Bad Harv used. His clothes began to burn, but he didn't stop until he reached the rim over the pit of rising molten rock.
Harvey couldn't stop himself from gasping in horror when the realization hit him. "But… but what will I do without you?"
"I don't know. You'll have to find out yourself. Goodbye, Harvey. Oh, and send my regards to Bruce"
For the first time in years since the accident that created Two-Face, Bid Bad Harv chose for himself without consulting Harvey.
It would also be the last.
Dozens of miles away from the eruption, safe from the cloud from Hell itself, a small but growing crowd of onlookers watched behind the protective pillar that was Doom Slayer as the volcano unleashed its rage on the area. In truth distance was the true protector, but they already knew that. They simply liked having someone like him being around just in case it went out of control.
It was Two-Face… or, more accurately, what was left of him. Parts of his body had been melted, leaving behind a mess of flesh, hair and clothing combined, including the infamous facial wound that gave him his name.
And yet, despite the terrible damage on his body, the man didn't seem to care, or even acknowledge his state, preferring instead to give a forlorn, distressed, even terrified look at the volcano.
Doom Slayer moved forwards until he stood next to Harvey, both looking at the eruption. "Did you kill him?"
But the man shook his head, still distressed. "I didn't. He jumped in."
One of the members of the crow chimed in. "What do you mean with 'he jumped in'?
Harvey, instead of replying directly, turned to look at the now fully awake volcano, distressed by whatever had happened inside. "He casted himself into the fires of Hell. To give me a chance to live a normal life… again."
Doom Slayer clasped his left shoulder. "And you should take it. He gave you the chance, don't disappoint him."
Harvey looked at him, giving him the look more fitting of a scared dog than anything. "But how? And even if I could, what's next? What am I supposed to do? I'm a criminal, a felon, a murderer!"
Doom Slayer merely looked at him. "Anything can happen. If a man who led an army of space monsters could be forgiven of his crime, so can an attorney with mental problems."
Despite everything, despite the doubt, despite the people's future reaction to this, one thing was certain: Two-Face was no more.
In a house located within a magical pseudo-macroverse, an englishman was spitting gin like a hose as he watched the event unfold from a window.
"Well, fuck me sideways, it actually worked!"
Two-Face is no more. Hope that I didn't make it too corny. And yes, I basically reenacted Isildur's fall to the Dark Side and combined it with Gollum/Sméagol. Tolkien did live in this universe, but since only Slayer and John have seen it happen, and not nat many have read The Lord of The Rings, not many will make the connection. As for why, symbolism: Two-Face metaphorically condemns himself to eternal damnation so that Harvey can finally be free.
Menthewarp said:
And yet Joker lives, because he is egotistical intelligent enough to refuse to leave Arkham this whole time…
Click to expand…
Click to shrink…
Soon, my friend, soon… Ok, maybe not that soon, but it'll happen.
Last edited: Sep 2, 2022
Pulling the weeds
Millions of people around the globe watched in trepidation as Doom Slayer brought a heavily burnt Harvey Dent to a hospital in Canada. All of them noted that his iconic coin was nowhere in sight.
Still, some believed that the former kingpin still had to be punished in some form, if only so his newfound remorse could be proved. Dent himself said he still deserved punishment, because he still committed those crimes himself, and Big Bad Harv (Two-Face's more aggressive half name) was born from his psyche after years of something he didn't want to disclose.
Foster's praising for Doom Slayer, while not any louder, was definitely more passionate, about how a man adept in the destruction of life could also mend the mind and soul of the broken. Amazingly enough, Wolper of all people also was happy by Slayer's action, and even agreed with his counterpart. Not surprising, given that he had been one of the many psychiatrists hired to try to get Dent to recover, and the only one who staunchly believed it could be done. The only thing he didn't like was how it happened.
"Granted, his… therapy, if it can even be called that, was a tad excessive for me, but still, it worked."
However, for all the amazement and joy, not many seemed to remember that Doom Slayer had other two Arkham patients, ones that mere aid or therapy wouldn't help to redeem, one because of her megalomania and sheer misanthropy, the other because of a much deeper issue, if one made worse by his past actions. Those who did remember, Foster among them, supposed Slayer would simply offer a token effort to the reptile man before giving up and dispatching him. They thought him as simply too wild, too feral to be redeemed in anyway, not helped by the fact he was a known man-eater (they didn't think he was human enough to be a mere cannibal, at least not anymore.).
The irony, if it could be called that, was that Doom Slayer would do everything, anything to help Waylon. Poison Ivy, on the other hand? After several years of misguided and deliberate murders, including children, and no real goal beyond wiping out mankind? Nothing occured to him aside from doing to her what Luthor
And if there was something that Doom Slayer hated nearly as much as Hell itself, after several lifetimes' worth of exterminating the forces of Hell and their collaborators, was the mere existence of those who did harm to mankind, especially those who were human, former humans, or human enough to be still considered such. That, and he knew that, deep under the scales, muscle, rage and pain, both physical and psychological, Waylon wanted people to help and accept him, and regretted being a monster, even if he wasn't afraid to lash out like one (didn't help he also had an animalistic behaviour he couldn't really control).
Ivy? Again, not so much. Despite her preaching about the evils of man against nature, and her self-appointed role of protector of the later, all she really cared for was to be some kind of queen. Her mutation and misanthropy was simply a way to channel that.
Which was why Slayer asked Grundy, who by right of being Avatar of the Green was the closest thing to a protector of it despite his overall lack of interest beyond not wanting people to die because of it, for help to deal with her. Well, him, and a certain sorceress.
"Are you sure you want to help, Rae? Just asking, because John could do it." Grundy asked Rachel as they made their way to the dungeon.
"Slayer asked me, and after meeting that man I'm starting to have my doubts about, well, the fact his soul is still in his body and all that. Not many, but there are. And besides, that bitch killed sixty children and their parents just because some lumberjacks are doing their jobs." Rachel snarled. "And the worst thing she got was being tossed in jail, instead of chair. Plus, it's been a while since I used my magic on a living human. I want to see if I got rusty."
That, and Ivy's delusions reminded her too much of Ra's.
Grundy nodded at that. "Gotham's judicial system is pretty broken. Hell, all of America's is. Back when I was Cyrus they would… I don't remember what exactly they'd done to her, but in the end she'd die anyway." In truth, he actually remembered what they did to women like Ivy, he just didn't want to tell it to a woman who suffered something disturbingly similar. That, and most of the time they didn't deserve it.
"Death would be too kind for a monster like her. God, killing children…"
"Indeed."
Finally arriving at the cells, Rachel's left eyebrow rose as she saw a familiar englishman stand next to Slayer, both in front of Ivy's cell.
"Constantine?"
Constantine shrugged. "I'm here just in case. That, and I want to see this bitch suffer in person, just like you. I mean, bloody hell, at least the others have the excuse of being loons. She's just a bitch."
None of them bothered to mention the name of a certain clown that could compare to her in sheer evil, if only because (in theory, at least) Ivy had a greater capacity for destruction.
"A bitch that will get what she deserves. So, are you two ready?" Slayer asked, prompting all of them to nod. "Remember your parts?"
"Show her how wrong she is about her so-called role, then turn her into a tree in a slow and painful manner."
"Take a bit of her essence to create another, good Poison Ivy." In truth John could do that, easily even, but again, she wanted to test herself. Plus, she was more powerful and skilled in this kind of things, thus less liable to make a mistake, something that Slayer emphatized he didn't want for Ivy. He really hated her, it seemed.
"Be here just in case they need help in either of their jobs. Also, point and laugh as the tart gets what she deserves." Everyone looked at John, who shrugged. "Someone has to, no? Plus, my inner me's been telling me that I've been too nice these last days. Being a wanker to her might shut him up."
There was also an unspoken fourth part: not speaking to Ivy directly, even if she talked to them, just to spite her; Grundy would merely show her a piece of his might and what he could do before doing his part.
"Good." With that he grabbed the door handle and opened it.
There she was, Poison Ivy herself. The days of confinement had done a number to her: her skin was paler, her hair completely disheveled, and her body was covered in bruises, product of her not giving up attempting to escape, and unlike her much sturdier fellow prisoner she didn't have anything to protect her body.
(At this point, the omniscient being reading this saga should have to have noted that the narrative hasn't used her real name.)
Speaking of Waylon, he had stopped trying to force his door the previous day, limiting himself to clawing at the walls. She had to admit it, despite his sordid past, his determination to escape was admirable, and unlike Ivy's he could theorically pull it off. Theorically.
"Wha-" That was the most Ivy could say before Grundy grabbed her by the neck. Then, after making sure she wouldn't be able to use her power, the group entered the portal to Ivy's new home: a promontory overlooking a logging camp in the Amazon.
And then Grundy raised an arm to the air.
The lumberjacks at first cried in terror and shock as hundreds of Amazon trees exploded from the soil, but then quietened down and stared in amazement as the trees didn't do anything aside from growing larger and more numerous at a fast rate, yet well away from them.
"What are those?" Constantine asked as the treeline began to grow and expand.
"Fast growing trees. Large, useful for anything and, most important of all, quick to grow. I mean, everyone and their mother needs paper. I don't see you wiping your ass with leaves."
Constantine made a disgusted face. "Not again, I'd rather die before doing that again. So, are we making her watch?"
Grundy laughed. "Make her watch? Limey, please, that'd be too easy to do, too cliché, and too kind for her. She could have done some real good and saved precious plants, but instead screwed it up." His smile then banished, and his frown deepened. "No, the punishment must be more… severe for her. Right Slayer?"
"Indeed."
Ignoring the hypocritical angry shout from Constantine, Grundy began to fulfill his part of the mission… and Ivy began to alternate between screams of agony and pleads for her life as her flesh, blood and bone were slowly, surely and painfully turned into wood and sap.
Then, after enough time passed, Rachel made her move.
"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos…"
The still human parts of Poison Ivy were engulfed by a black light, and the woman screamed even higher as something was ripped out from her body.
In the end, after hours of shrieks of excruciating agony, Ivy became the thing she said to love the most: a tree. Especifically a tree that resembled one of Grundy's. And she'd be utterly and completely aware as the teeth of the saws cut her down and the blades of the factory turned her into material for paper until the last second, all the while she tried her damnest to scream and couldn't because she lacked even a proper mouth to do so. A cruel fate? Of course. Deserved? Definitely.
And, just like with Luthor, no one but the four of them would ever know how Slayer managed to 'redeem' Poison Ivy.
Three days to end with a short chapter that does not focus at all on the sinner, that's how little I think of Arkham Ivy. Yes, she saved Gotham, but right before her death, and not for altruistic reasons.
About Waylon
Victor had finally cured his wife and become a hero, Harvey got himelf rid of Two-Face forever, and Poison Ivy became what she said she beloved and protected. The new Ivy that Raven created, named Pamela and with the alias of Flora, has sworn to protect both nature and man across the world, only killing when no other option was avaiable. It'll be a matter of time, but eventually she'll redeem the name of her predecessor.
Now the only one left, and by far the hardest to help, was Waylon.
I couldn't have found someone so different from Ivy, if only in nature. As for Ivy herself I could have done better, more about her. But people like Ivy, Ra's misanthropes and their ilk in general who talk low about humanity's flaws yet refuse to see them in themselves and set themselves apart despite being fully human are, to put it simply, in my shitlist to seek and destroy, not just due to Doom Slayer's past but also because, frankly, I hate them after having read and seen too much fiction involving such creatures, claimers of humanity's evil despite themselves being human, and worse than most to boot. True, Waylon too had a bone to pick with the rest of mankind, but aside of having much better reasons he didn't have the capacity of destruction Ivy had, his anger was much more justified and understandable: all she had was some chlorokinesis and a single betrayal from the one who changed her (and by someone who didn't seem that trustworthy either).
Now, again, only Waylon remained. One might think that simply changing his body and therapy sessions with me would be enough for him, and I'm pretty sure it would have worked with other, more simple Killer Crocs.
With this Waylon, however, it was much complex than that.
The first thing to do was stopping his mutation from growing worse and destroying his mind. It wouldn't reverse his status straight, but again that could be done aside, and we didn't want to get rid of his power either. The solution to the dilemma was very simple: making Waylon able to change between his the-current form and an hypothetical normal body, what he'd look like without his mutation. akin to your average shapeshifter, so that he could at least have a normal life.
There was a problem with that, though, and while it did involve his condition, he himself wasn't the cause: years of abuse, beatings, seeing people he cared for and cared about him die and more had made him unwilling to be considered a human being, even though deep inside he wanted to be accepted by others. His past was sordid, to say the least.
So, simply changing him wouldn't be enough. Brainwashing him or simply killing him and creating a more clone was out of the question, as much as John told me to do it.
His behavior wasn't the only part of the problem. VEGA ran several simulations, and they showed that most people would still react negatively to Waylon even when he had done something positive that would have earned praising had someone else done so. Granted, he was a known cannibal, but his killcount was actually on the middle end compared to the others: Ivy killed two hundred, Harvey seventy or so (though admittedly most of them had been mobsters trying to kill him first), and Victor less than a dozen; in contrast, Waylon had only killed thirty seven people, though he did eat thirteen of them.
A combination of attitude, past, appearance and primal instinct made it practically impossible for the public to accept him. Yes, you read that right, atavism. Even Bruce admitted to have a sense of unsettlement when he fought Waylon, even as he defeated him. Something about genetic memory from back when bipedal reptilians were the apex predators on Earth and mammals no much bigger than rats, VEGA told me, and which affected all mammals of Earth (with several exceptions, of course).
But that strength, that drive to fight, to live, never stopping trying to get ouf of his cell not trying to escape, but simply refusing to lie down and die, was something I couldn't turn away or keep under a lock, no matter how many of the people wanted me to.
This world didn't want Waylon, and he didn't want to be here either.
And that was what gave me the idea.
I'm putting the story on hiatus, but only for a single chapter, to rest from it and to prepare for the reason this one is so short and narrative-exclusive.
I'm not trying to make the SI seem justified in his actions, simply tell why he did that now with Ivy, why did he react like that. If it doesn't look like it to you guys, my fault for not being good at this stuff. And yes, I'm biased for Killer Croc: he's way more relatable and understandable than a good deal of DC villains other people are sympathetic to, like of course Poison Ivy. That, and I simply like him.
Last edited: Sep 29, 2022
Killer Croc No More
"Excuse, care to repeat that again?"
"I want to send Waylon to another dimension, and I need your help to make it happen."
Me, John and Rachel had asked Wally, Clark and Bruce to come to the Fortress. Behind us, the door to Waylon's cell shook as he tried to force it open, no longer roaring but still defiant despite it being clear he couldn't escape.
"You want to punt Killer Croc to another universe? Freaking Killer Croc? The maneating lizard man?"
"Please, do not call Mr. Jones by that name." VEGA told him. "Even though he can't hear this conversation, he's known to react negatively to his nickname in this kind of circumstances." In truth VEGA had too grown fond of Waylon.
"Ok, calling the lizard man by his real name, noted. Again, you want to send Ki- Waylon, to another… what, dimension? Universe? Is there an actual difference between the two?"
"That's not the point, mate."
"Why another dimension? Wouldn't sending him to just another planet in the Milky Way suffice and be easier to do?"
"I have my reasons." Not a good excuse, I know, but even though Bruce didn't like it, he accepted it, though eventually he asked me for an actual reason.
"But why call Wally for this?" Clark asked us. "Can't you use the technology that brought you here to send him away?"
"After finding out about the things that live in and between other dimensions, and what happened last time, I'd rather not risk it, at least not without preparation."
"Smart." Bruce said in an approving tone. "And me and Clark?"
"Just in case, as always, and because you'd want to know everything about Waylon as long as he stays here."
Bruce didn't make any expression that could have betrayed his emotions at that, but I knew that he, after having fought Waylon a few times before and seeing the people's digusted and horrified faces, shared my thoughts.
"Which is why we asked you to come." Raven continued as she turned to Wally, even though her question wasn't to anyone in particular. "Do any of you know about the Speed Force?"
"Of course I know about the Speed Force, I'm it's living embodiment! Admittedly I don't know that much, but I know the basics."
"Then you know it's one of the most powerful sources of energy in any dimension, enough to power my spells, and then some, and in some cases even open holes in the veil of our reality." Rachel replied. "With your aid, combined with Slayer's technology, we could open a portal powerful enough to send Waylon to a world of our own choosing."
"Why not your magic?"
"That kind of conjuration would require a lot of power from me, and that might draw the attention of… certain beings." Like Trigon or his hordes. "The Speed Force doesn't have that problem."
"It also makes it an stupidly efficient energy source that could reach all homes in the entire world… if you're willing to slave away on a treadmill the rest of your life. Just in case you break something and need the juice." John noted.
"I already knew that, thank you." Wally replied with a huff.
Clark ignored them and turned to me. "But why do you want to send Waylon away? He could be a great help like Victor and Pamela have become."
"Because the world, your world, will never accept him, no matter what he does, for reasons that should be more than obvious to any of you and which I'm not going to bother listing. By taking him to another we'll be giving him a new chance at life, a clean slate, away from the things that would never allow him to start from anew."
Bruce then spoke, still not happy about the situation. "But what happens if he ends up in somewhere far worse than here? What if he dies?"
"Then he'll die free instead of lying in a dissecting table or rotting in a modernized dungeon." The possibility of it happening anyway but in another dimension did crop up in my mind, but Bruce didn't point it out either. "But given his strength, that's not likely to happen, taking him alive I mean. Still, we might be able to send him somewhere lacking intelligent life."
"Leaving him alone?" I knew what Clark was inquiring: that despite everything, Waylon wouldn't want to be alone, potentially forever. I forgot that most sapient beings wanted to be with others, be their kind or simply thinking creatures. Most.
"He's perfectly happy being by himself, remember? In fact, he desires solitude." It actually reminded me of another green giant who reacted badly, only Waylon wasn't as dangerous.
"What about his condition? You said that curing it would depower him, but it-"
"Mutates him continuously, makes him more bestial, and causes him pain." I finished for him. "I managed to stop the mutation from changing him further. He'll stay in that form, capabilities included, but he won't be hurt by it, and he'll keep his mind."
"And the public? Even if they assume you killed him, they'll might want to know what did you do with the corpse."
"I'll tell them a partial truth, that I sent him to another part of the galaxy. They'll assume that being sent to a far away world in the middle of nowhere is a worse fate than death; for those who don't see it that way, they won't be able to do anything about it."
It was Clark's turn to speak. "And what happens if Waylon doesn't want to go?"
"Believe me, after everything that has happened to him in his life, he won't want to stay here. Besides, he has no other options left."
How had he been there, slamming and clawing the walls? A week? A month? An eternity? Killer Croc didn't really care, not anymore; all he cared about was not going quietly into that night, if he still remembered that poem he had read a long time ago.
Only one day after his capture he realized he wouldn't be getting out, no matter how much he struggled, but again, that didn't stop him.
Some would have cried and begged for their miserable hides, others would have lied down and despaired and waited for their inevitable demise at the hands, barrels or whateve Doom Slayer had, and yet others would have bitten their own wrists to 'escape' before the armored monster offed them himself.
Not Croc. Despite being practically helpless, he wasn't going to just stand there and let that soldier blow his head off and pose over his cold corpse like some demented hunter from a pulp novel.
He wanted to kill an animal, he'd give him an animal! A furious, diseased freak of nature he'd have no other option than to kill as quickly as possible! Diseased! Since the day the first scales erupted from his skin, that damn pain had never let down! Worse than being shot, all he could do was channel that pain into rage against the whole fucking world!
Only, he hadn't felt the pain since he had been beamed to that cell. It felt rather nice for the couple of seconds he realized it, but after that he didn't care and continued attacking the cell, thinking it'll just come up later. But as time passed, the pain didn't return. It was something that actually made him actually stop, if only for a couple seconds.
With the pain gone, he then began having something he didn't have for a good while: clear thoughts, truly clear ones not strained by the pain. Not that it made him any happier about his situation, nor make him cease his attacks, but it did made him wonder, namely about the pain vanishing all out of sudden. How did it happen? He saw nothing since arriving. Why did it happen? Was this Doom Slayer's doing? Possible, given the crap he had, but why? And why him? Hell, why didn't he kill him before? By what he had heard, he didn't give a damn about laws, and nothing would have stopped him from striding into Arkham and putting lead between Croc's eyes.
And then one day the door opened, and Croc stopped clawing at it when he saw who stood at the other side.
Doom Slayer in person.
Shorter than him, but taller than everyone Croc had ever meet, the guy exuded an aura of power that made him seem like a titan, despite it concealing his face the majority of the time, and Croc standing up at that moment. It was this what stopped Croc from attacking him and getting himself killed faster.
This could only mean one thing. Croc, momentary awe at the man forgotten, prepared himself for what was going to happen.
"Is it the time already? Do you promise to make it quick and painless? Else I'll roar and bite."
"Depends of what you're thinking about…" He said with that deep voice of his as he trailed off, a voice that many heard before getting a free ticket to Hell, before saying a word that Croc never expected to hear from him. "Waylon."
Croc's eyes narrowed when he heard the name, not expecing Doom Slayer of all people to know it, let alone say it. "That's not my name." He growled out. Not that he really being called Killer Croc, but he liked even less being remembered of his real name, of his past.
"It is, no matter what everyone thinks. And that includes you. Follow me." With that Doom Slayer turned around and began to walk up a nearby corridor, one big enough for Croc to walk through without even crouching.
With no other option left, and having the feeling that Slayer wouldn't kill him even if he attacked him directly, Croc went after the soldier. Along the way, he noted that the base seemed more like an actual castle with modern stuff here and there. Then again, they did call it the Fort of Doom or something like that, but he didn't expect it to be a literal fortress out of Dungeon and Dragons.
Some kind of big, glowy yellow thing hovering in the middle of the room. There were other people in the room, some of which he recognized, even the Bat himself, and some he didn't have the slightest idea who they were, but Croc paid them no mind, mesmerized as he was with the alien sight.
"The hell is that?" He asked, not bothering to look at his jailer.
"The door to your new home." Doom Slayer replied.
That caused one of Croc's eyebrows to rise in a mix of confusion, interest… and a faint feeling he hadn't felt for a long time, to the point he had forgotten its name. He'd rather keep it simply, it'd be easier. "Ok, I can believe that, but what exactly is it?"
"A portal to another dimension." Doom Slayer said in a matter-of-fact tone.
This is getting pretty damn weird, Croc thought, but then, he had seen weird things before, just not as much as his current situation. "What for?"
"To send you to a place where you won't be treated as a monster."
Croc's gaze alternated between Slayer and the so-called portal. Then, a thought crept into his mind, one that wondered.
"You didn't think of curing me? Because I think you can, and that would be easier to do."
"I stopped it from getting worse, but if I had gone through you'd be bereft of everything that makes you, including the good things."
"'Good things'?!" Croc nearly roared. The bastard outright called it 'good things', just like that! Not even something like 'boons' or 'benefit' or some stupid and big, smart word those scientist fucks liked to use! "I'm a freak because of it!"
"Strength, durability, regeneration, enhanced senses, jaws strong enough to bite through even reinforced steel with ease… Things that many would pay, even kill to get."
"I already knew that." Croc said with a shudder. He still remembered his earlier days in Arkham after the blotched crap with Joker. They said it was for his own good, to understand his condition. More like to understand what made him tick and weaponize it, or just because he could. Goddamn labcoats.
Croc couldn't help but chortle, but not in mirth. "I AM a monster. Everyone thinks so, myself included, you know that, right? And it only got worse after I killed people. I ATE people, and I don't regret it."
"Worse monsters than you look like completely normal human beings, or close, and have no real excuse for their actions. And yet, they got their redemption." Before Croc could reply to that, Slayer raised a hand. "I'm not defending or justifying yours, and forgival is out of my reach, but at least you had a better excuse than any of them. And again, they're atoning for their crimes as we speak."
"Like who?"
"Poison Ivy. I forced her to see the error of her ways, made her suffer what she had put others through, and that changed her. She's now protecting the world's forest from those who cannot be reasoned with."
Croc wanted to laugh, but all that came from his mouth was a huff. With all the crazy shit he had seen, Doom Slayer himself included, that red-haired bitch stopping being a bitch wasn't all that strange. 'course, he could have just brainwashed her or something.
"Okay, I guess I don't really any other options, no?" Without bothering to wait to even mentally prepare himself for was he was going to do, Croc began to walk to the portal. Who knew, maybe he ended up in that desert planet full of graboids and spices. At least he'd have some entertainment there. "Bye, wish me a nice death."
However, before he left, Doom Slayer stopped him. "Before you leave, take this." He raised a hand to Croc's holding a metallic object.
Grabbing it with some care, Croc inspected the thing. It kinda looked like a walkie-talkie, but one made of a smooth, yet strong metal and with blue lights all over it, capped with a green button. "What's this?"
"A one-use emergency beacon, in case something, anything happens and you actually need help. Press the button and we'll pinpoint your location to help you. Good luck… and good life."
"Thanks."
And with that Croc crossed the portal, leaving his home behind, presumibly to never return.
It was a tropical island. After a couple of hours exploring the place, he found out it wasn't all that big, probably just a tad larger than Gotham.
Dinosaurs. Honest to God dinosaurs (plus things like bigass bugs, even bigger bats, hyena-dogs, long-fanged cats the size of cars, giant murder chicken, and then some more, but they didn't leave a big an impression on him like the dinosaurs): the hornies, the long-necks, the anchillasaurs, the raptors, and of course fucking t.rexes. He was in some kind of lost world or Jurassic Park crap!
Cro-no, not Croc, Waylon, after thinking that the space soldier, and after finding a cave to stay the night in, began to think as he ate an unlucky dinosaur whose species didn't know. He was alone at last, away from all that had tormented him all his life, and the people he had tormented in turn. Evem better, he still didn't feel the pain, which meant Doom Slayer hadn't lied.
At first, Waylon didn't really know what to feel. On the one hand, he had been basically banished to a God-forsaken island on some planet in another universe, far away from anyone, essentially just another prison, if one full of prehistoric monsters he could still escape from by simply swimming if he braved the sea, and of course fighting the aforementioned monsters himself.
On the other, he was free. Not from the growing guilt he was developing, but from the torment, the pain, the anger. He wasn't going to forget what he did any time soon, but the fact he began feel shame over it had to mean something.
He had found peace.
What Waylon didn't know was that his arrival in that island, in another dimension, was but the beginning of his new life, one that would challenge both body and mind. But that's a story for another time.
Back from the hiatus, and giving a resolution to the imprisoned villains arc. I've also began writing a One Piece story, Water, Water Everywhere. The title oughta tell you what is it about. And yes, this is a set-up for a future arc that will involve travelling to the Earth (b). It's not Marvel's, though, too obvious and cliché all things given.
Last edited: Oct 29, 2022
The Aftermath
It actually happened. Doom Slayer had sent Killer Croc away… in the literal way.
Many thought he was simply using an euphemism for killing the brute, right until the other members of the League confirmed that Killer Croc had been sent away through a portal to another part of the galaxy, far from Earth, so that he wouldn't menace Gotham… and the city haunt him no more. Naturally, this angered lots of people, including relatives or friends of people killed by the manbeast, the many detractors of Doom Slayer, and more, their opinions ranging from irrational hatred to annoyance at the seemingly hypocritical attitude of Doom Slayer towards someone that, as far as they cared, should had been put down like the animal he was, and like many more before him.
Others, however, weren't so critical. After all, Slayer had spared the life of someone who had been significantly more dangerous that Croc was, even turned her into a (anti)hero. Foster, in a surprising turn of events, was not all fully happy about the situation, knowing the kind of creature Croc had been, but in the end he simply shrugged.
"As long as he doesn't come back, or does come back but changed for the better, it won't be that much of a problem, no? And even if he goes back to man-eating, he wouldn't be doing it here."
As part of the pseudo-reversal, Wolper was the most positive about the situation.
"He did what practically no one could, nor wanted: give Waylon Jones a new life."
This, naturally, repeated itself across the world.
Amanda was not amused, having lost a potential and capable recruit for the task force, leaving her with little metahuman felons strong enough to fill the muscle, but she had learnt a long time ago that when Doom Slayer got involved, losing would-be expendable crew was the best she could get.
Plus, King Shark was still available, wasn't he? And others, too? Many of the creatures that could take on the Man of Steel one on one could be convinced to protect the public with the proper conviction… or enough firepower, whichever was needed.
Bruce was still conflicted about the whole ordeal. On the one hand, and despite knowing Slayer had stopped the mutation, he still felt uneasy of the fact Waylon was out of reach of him, and the possibility of him lashing out against whatever world he was, and not being there. On the other, Slayer had done what he had tried and failed to accomplish. Despite himself, despite being grateful, Bruce couldn't help but feel… apprehensive, to put it mildly.
Clark was in a similar pickle, so to speak, but on a lesser scale. After all, something similar happened with Volcana, and she had yet to return to burning anyone and anything he hated.
Wally still couldn't wrap his head around the fact the Speed Force could be used to power magic.
Many were simply relieved that Gotham, and the world at large, would never be menaced by the ten-foot flesheating misanthrope again.
Few actually wondered what would he do next.
With Victor redeemed, Harvey free from Two-Face, Ivy punished and her clone atoning for her, and Waylon in another plane of existence to live his life in peace, there was little to be done at the Fortress. I did not know how to feel. I had other plans, of course, but I didn't want to, not yet, withou preparation. As much as I wanted to raid the place, Hell, and by extension, Trigon, could wait.
Trigon, just Trigon. Despite him not abandoning his obsession for Raven's power, and the threat he posed, in practice he could do little to us: his armies couldn't come to the Fortress, they sure as hell knew what would happen to them if they dared to peek their disgusting heads on Earth, and he could not leave his dominion to search for her himself without prompting his enemies in the circles to attack in his absence, and even if he came, I was confident I would put him down like all the other demons the Doom Slayer had killed.
Again, this meant there was little to do in the system, stopping petty crimes nonwithstanding.
The first thing, and probably contradicting the above, was that the 'purple-haired bitch' was still at large, and for some reason neither VEGA nor the magic users could find her. We still didn't know what she wanted, and despite the evidence we had yet to find out who she actually worked for. Trigon was at the head of that list of course, but this being DC, anyone else could.
Second was Rachel. Not for fear of her father, but fear of losing everything she had gained, despite knowing (and technically firsthand) what I had done and could do. She found a place to stay, people to trust and be trusted by…
The third and last was Grundy. Even though he tried to hide it, and it not coming out to the light until after a good while, I noted he began to be more… uneasy methinks, after killing Ra's. He would have fooled other people, maybe even Bruce, but not me: the subtle way he moved, the way he spoke, the tired gaze, avoiding me the best he could…. And unfortunately, I knew why was he acting like that, given I was the problem.
I had robbed Grundy of his chance at payback, and he wasn't happy, to say the least. I wasn't going to let it fester in him until he couldn't hold it any longer and do something I couldn't predict, no much he seemed to be okay with it and how unlikely it could be.
I found him near the Brazil's portion of the Amazon, doing nothing in particular at the moment. He didn't react when he heard the sound of a portal opening and my feet hitting the ground, but he heard me alright.
" Slayer."
"Grundy."
"Okay, why the sudden silent treatment? Why have you come? And don't tell me it's about her, because right now she's in Australia."
"You're angry at me for stealing your rightful kill, aren't you?"
Grundy turned to look at me. "So, you've noticed. Well, kinda. I did get angry when you told me you killed him without telling me, but after realizing going berserk or something stupid liked that for something that simply can't be undone, I, well, shrugged and decided to do nothing."
"So?"
"I'm not mad, just annoyed you forgot your promise. I thought of, do to him what he did to me, but then I remembered you dismember your prey, and Rachel told me that even if his body returned to life, it'd be a soulless husk. 'sides, thinking about it, I'm not the only one that templar ninja or whatever he was supposed to be."
We stood there for a couple minutes, looking at the jungle, until I broke the silence. "How do I make up for it? Because you know how I am."
Grundy scratched his chin before shrugging. "I can't really think of anything, not yet. Besides, I told you already, I'm simply not happy. Eh, something might come up eventually… or might not, but I'm not going to throw a tantrum over it. Just be like for a couple weeks more, maybe."
Seeing that I couldn't really do anything to change his mind, I decided to leave him to his devices. "If that's how it is." I made to leave, but then Grundy stopped me. "What is it?"
"Haven't you noted that Rachel is a bit… morose? Whenever I look at her, she looks away. She tries to hide it, but she can't fool me."
"Trigon. He's still at large."
Grundy… grunted, at the mention of the demon. "She doesn't have to act tough around us. Anyone can have their moment of fear if their daddy was Satan's cousin."
"She fears him, but it's not what you think."
"Little Garfield?"
"And all of us." Remember, at this point of my life, only John and Raven knew of my/Doom Slayer's background. "She likes this, and doesn't want to lose it."
"You know, I feel a bit wrong talking about Rachel's life without her."
"As powerful as she is, there's little she can do against her father. You and me, though? He'd get something more than a simple nosebleed if he fought us."
"More than a nosebleed, uh? You think we could, well, go Divine Comedy on him, only as crusaders instead of writers? I promised I would protect her, and I'm not afraid of Satan or Hell to keep her safe." At that he slammed one fist into his open palm, to drive the point home further. "The world too, of course, but you know what I mean."
"No, at least not yet. We might have to do something about him in the long run, but I want us, and Rachel, to be prepared for it."
Again, Grunty grunted, but didn't say anything… for ten seconds. "What's that up there?"
I looked up to where he was pointing. At first I saw nothing, but then I located what he saw, what seemed to be a falling star, a blue trail right behind it as it entered our sky and dropped to the ground at hypersonic speeds.
Thing was, it was two o'clock in the afternoon, not night.
"Hey, doesn't that star move too fast to…? Wait, a minute, it's noon!"
"VEGA…"
Instantly a portal to the Moon appeared in front of the meteor. It added a rather large crater to the surface, but better than letting it crash on Earth.
"Hope it's not aliens invading… again." Grundy muttered (I could hear what he said thanks to VEGA) as we made our way across the center.
As we suspected, it wasn't a meteor, but a starship. However, it clearly wasn't a warship, missile or even a probe: by the looks of it, and the fact it had windows on its sides, it had to be some kind of lifepod or small shuttle.
And then a door on its front opened, and my eyes widened when I saw something come out, something, or rather, some one, that despite everything that had happened, I really did not expect to come here.
An orange-skinned, black-haired girl.
So, this has been one helluva hiatus, eh? Sorry for the delay, I got a bad case of tonsils and then got caught up playing Siege of Dragonspear and, well, it's basically Throne of Bhaal for Baldur's Gate I.
Sleeping Moon said:
Oof, that's a hassle, wouldn't buying a keyboard will be helpful though? Unless your going for a gaming keyboard, the hardware is pretty cheap.
Also, hit and miss in the crossover huh, sad :V.
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Sadly, I'm using a laptop, and it seems that S has gone the way of W too.
Bones_Malone said:
He'll do the same to Trigon
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Yes, but not yet, not yet.
Which is still a long time.
Jealousfailure said:
Did croc just get sent to skull Island? A lot of the fauna match those from both Jackson and the New one
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Yep, more of a mishmash really, although the island itself is the least surprising thing on this new Earth for Waylong… when he finally decides to leave it.
Cosmos2101 said:
I really wanna like this story, but I just can't. Leaving aside the not insignificant no. of inconsistency (IMO), your writing style is just not to my liking (this might be considered flaming, but I'm not trying to, as I said, I really like the idea of the story).
Also, is there some kind of personality mix between DS and SI, because what kind of person decides that they are getting bored of saving people and would really like to kill somebody with their guns, even bad guys?? (Unless they are a psychopath or something)
Again, not trying to flame or anything, just can't articulate my thoughts properly. Also not a critic, just a layman reader.
P.S. I just read till chapter 6.
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Nah, criticize all you want, it's normal and helps me. As for the personality thing, well, I don't want to spoil anything, but that change in the first person narrative (gradual, if maybe too quickly) is a reference to a rather famous story. I'll say no more.
Last edited: Nov 26, 2022
The Queen in Exile
Both of us stood there, watching as the girl fell to the ground gasping, but not for lack of air. For what I remembered of the cartoon, tamaraneans were similar to kryptonians in that they could obtain energy from star; on the other hand, this universes' kryptonians did need oxygen even when fully charged.
There was, of course, the issue of this particular tamaranean not being Starfire as usual in DC, but Blackfire, her usually good yet bitchy, sometimes a form of dark grey sister. And she didn't have the same armor/cuff system Starfire wore on the cartoon, so she may have not been a prisoner. As for Blackfire herself, she looked night the same as the cartoon, leopard and all, if a bit older when comparing her with what I remembered (I didn't read the comics).
"Shouldn't she be asphyxiating or something? Or freezing? Or, you know, lay dead?" Grundy said. For obvious reasons, the girl couldn't hear him speak, though she may have felt the vibrations he made, because she then looked up and saw us. Given the first things on that strange satellite she saw were an armored soldier and an undead giant respectively, added to her already volatile personality, it was understandable the way she reacted.
Namely, by ramming into me with enough force to cause a cloud of dust around us, then beating my helmet as hard as she could even as we rolled on the ground, where she procceeded to basically try to bury me by punching.
Even as she dug us deeper into the Moon, I simply did nothing, deciding to let her tire herself out. Like the rest of the Praetor suit, the helmet was all but indestructible to most attacks, berserk tamaraneans included. As a matter of fact, her knuckles began to bleed, although she didn't seem to know or care.
Eventually, a minute or so later, her, anger gave way to astonishment when it finally dawned on her that my faceplate didn't even have as much as a crack on it. She was both royalty of a species of superhuman beings and aware of her strength, so it was a surprise for her.
I didn't wast the chance she gave me by kicking her off, careful to not split her in half, but that simply meant reminding Blackfire of her flight and energy blasts, blasts she promptly began bombarding me with. Too bad (or good, given she was unwittingly depleting her energy reserves) for her, Grundy was both strong enough to restrain her with little problem, heavy enough to not fly off the Moon if careful, and uncaring of her state.
He still landed a nautical mile from me.
"For a twig, she's pretty damn strong!" Grundy said as I approached them, a screaming Blackfire doing her damnest to escape his embrace. "Also, I think I dislocated her arms."
VEGA didn't bother to translate what she was screaming about, and not just because most of it was insults about our parentage, but nonetheless he was already creating a rough conversion of the tamaranean languange for me. A quick jab to her face put an end to her defiance.
"Now what?"
I merely opened a portal to the Fortress. There, both Rachel and Garfield watched in confusion as we brought the unconscious alien female.
"Who's that?"
"An alien orange girl that landed on the Moon. Pretty strong, too. I mean, not Superman or me strong, but there's a Slayer-shaped crater." Grundy said before dropping her on the ground, where Garfield began prodding her. "Yep, dislocated arms. My bad."
I watched as Rachel fixed Blackfire's arms, then cast a paralysis spell. "She won't move until I want her to, and it can hold Clark. What will you do with her?"
"For now, she's going to the dungeon." In a moment of foresight, I kept Waylon's cell in the Ripatorioum, just in case someone close in power had to be imprisoned, even if she wouldn't move.
Naturally, Grundy did not like that. "What?"
"She's not like the others. Too strong, can fly, and those balls. Besides, if she wakes up, I'm sure you'll handle her."
Grundy rolled his eyes before grabbing Blackfire and taking her to the Ripatorium.
"Did you do anything to her?" Rachel asked me.
"Aside from giving her the concussion of her life and Grundy accidentally dislocating her shoulders, no."
"I will call mister Kent, he will want to know about her and might know more than we do." VEGA said.
An hour later, Clark stood by me on the main hall as Grundy brought a now fully conscious Blackfire back. While angry, she didn't try to escape this time.
"She looks very close to a human." He remarked as Grundy set her down on a chair. "If not for her skin, she could pass for a normal girl."
"Have you ever meet someone of her species before in your travels across space?"
"No, but by your description of her her people could be related to kryptonians, at least to some point." They weren't, not at all, but he didn't know. "But maybe Kyle knows of them."
Kyle Rayner. There were of course John, Guy and Hal, but Kyle was the first human in this universe to put on the ring, and a friend of Clark. I haven't mentioned either of them until know by virtue of them not coming to Sol. According to Clark they did know about me, but only the bare minimum. I didn't know at that moment, but I was going to mee them soon… and not in favorable circumstances, to say the least. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
"Are you sure I didn't have to bring my translator?"
In response, I pointed at the ceiling. "VEGA's already translated her language, we're just waiting for the final tuning… and for her to talk first."
"You'll be begging for a quick death when I'm done with you." She growled. That was good, it meant the translation was complete.
"Good, we understand you. Can you understand us back?" I asked.
Blackfire was taken aback, fully understanding what I said. "What the-"
"My AI took the liberty of analyzing your screams of rage and insults as you tried to cave my skull in."
Clark looked at me, alarmed. "You didn't tell me that."
"There was no need to: she didn't do anything, and in fact the most she managed was cutting her knuckles." I told him before looking back to our guest. "I am Doom Slayer, and this is Superman. The people back there are Rachel Roth and Solomon Grundy.
Blackfire merely glared at me.
"We are part of a group that protects the nearby planet of threats the local peacekeeping forces can't, both from the inside and out. And until you tell us your intentions, you're the latter, and believe me, you don't want to be a threat."
Blackfire continued to glare at us for a while, before finally sighing. "Okay then, I can see I'm not going to escape from you. I am Komand'r, queen of planet Tamaran."
"'Commander'?" Clark repeated, between puzzled and suspicious, eyes narrowed at her. "Are you a soldier?"
"Komand'r, you stupid alien plebeian! I'm the queen of the tamarans!" Blackfire screamed at him before, surprisingly enough, acquiring a depressed look. "At least, I think I still am."
"Why are you here?"
"Straight to the pint, eh? Well then. I was… let's say exiled from my world."
"By who?"
"An outside force none of us ever knew existed." She began to explain." I'm not going to bore you with the small details. One day, not so long ago, we were attacked, by an army of winged monsters from space. They promptly began to attack anyone they could, and even though they were weaker, they soon began to kill us. No matter how many of the creatures we killed, there were ten for any that fell, and even the mightiest guard can only be in one place at a time. Only me, my sister and a few others could push them back, but they always came back. It only got worse when the freaks' masters decided to involve themselves. THOSE killed my already weakened troops like nothing."
Blackfire then looked away, a forlorn and even scared look on her face.
By then it was obvious to me and Clark (whose jaw tightened to the point I could heard his teeth grind) who, and what, had attacked her planet.
Apokolips. Not the planet itself or Darkseid, however, else she would have mentioned them.
"And then their leader decided to involve himself, a monster of a man. That murderous bastard."
"Did this leader look like an animal, with an oversized head and a beard but no mustache?"
I knew who he was talking about: Kalibak, one of Darkseid's sons, and the most disappointing for him. Him conquering an entire planet wasn't that surprising: despite his lack of intellect and self esteem, he was still a powerful force capable of matching Clark punch by punch, something that few could do. Besides, not every tamaranean was a fighter.
Plus, despite being a somewthat dimwitted thug most of the time, there was a damn good reason he was called the Cruel, something that millions of people learnt the hard way.
"How… how do you know that?"
Clark, for some reason, looked at me for a second before looking back at her. "I've fought him before, him and his family." Clark explained. "His people invaded our world before, but we managed to drive them out."
"How the hell did you fight them off?!" Blackfire-Komand'r screamed, incredulous.
"It's a long story, and it wasn't that easy either." Clark replied, not really wanting what exactly happened. "Was a planet with him? I mean, did he come from a planet that appeared in your system?"
Blackfire, without more context about Kalibak, took it wrongly. "A… planet? That bastard can move planets?!"
"No, but his father can, and not in the way you think either." Clark assured him. "But did he?"
"No, he didn't. He and his forces came on a ship, if a rather stupidly huge one."
"That means he's acting by himself, then." Clark muttered. "Weird, yet comforting."
Blackfire, understandably, thought otherwise "Comforting? That bastard slaughtered millions of my people and enslaved the rest!"
"He could have easily just killed you all, or worse." Clark ccountered. By worse he meant, of course, being taken directly to Apokolips which, given their overall power, would have meant very bad news for the universe on the long run, not that it changed anything.
Rachel decided to speak "What made you leave Tamaran?"
"My councilors more or less begged me to find someone who could liberate us from the aliens. Rather stupid of them, but then, none of us could fight against that thug. I wouldn't go alone, however: my sister, Koriand'r, would accompany me in my mission."
"What happened to her? Why wasn't she with you on the ship?"
"I'm not sure where my sister is, we split when the ship jumped. We barely had need to use it until now, thus we don't really understand how it works" She then sighed. "Wherever she is now, I hope it's not Tamaran."
"Couldn't you call the Green Lantern Corps to help you? This is the kind of situation that would force them to act directly." Neither of us were really sure about that, given their usual hands-off modus operandi (and ignoring the fact they were very stretched thin9, but the threat of a member of Apokolips' ruling cast might have been enough to force their hand.
Komand'r grunted. "The Corps and Tamaran have… bad blood between them, to put it lightly. I don't really care at this point about that part of our history, but my people wouldn't take well to them coming, help or not. All I want is to kick those freaks off my planet."
"What about your sister?" Rachel asked
"Don't misunderstand me, I love her, but Tamaran takes preference. Besides, other than that bearded freak, I'm fairly certain she can take on anything the galaxy throws at her."
To summarize, Kalibak had for some reason gone solo on a planet of powerful aliens, clearly to earn respect from his father, and actually pulled it off; unexpected from someone like him, given everything I knew. On the other hand, it could be a part of a bigger ploy. We didn't know, but what we did know was that Apokolips had conquered another planet.
Then, there was the fact Komand'r didn't seem particularly upset about what she had gone through, or at least not as much as I expected her to be.
"You'll help me? Jut like that?" Komand'r asked, both incredulous and suspicious
"It's who we are." Clark replied with a smile before frowning. "And this is something I want to see with my own eyes." He then turned to me. "But we might need some reinforcements, just in case."
I nodded "VEGA, call everyone available."
"Solomon Grundy, exploring the final frontier?" Grundy pondered before shrugging. "I wouldn't be as strong, both in strength and plants, but I could go."
"There's still a loose end on Earth I want to take care of." Rachel said as she looked at me. "But I don't hink it'll go anywhere, and if it did, I would know. Besides, I always wanted to see the stars, the real stars, from up close."
"And as much as I want to, I don't think I can take on Kalibak and an army of parademons."
"There's no need for that. VEGA can bring us to Tamaran."
Clark blinked as he stared at me, surprised. "You mean… move the fortress?"
I nodded. "It can move between universes, remember? A jump to the other side of this one is nothing as long as VEGA knows where to go, and since our arrival, he's been surveying the galaxy, just in case, but I think you can help with that.
Clark didn't bother to ask how it was possible, knowing how advanded my technology was, but in truth it was a result of the Fortress' magic.
In the end, it was decided: me, Clark, Rachel, Grundy and a few others (Wally, Ayame, Pausanias, Mecha-Boi, Kara and John, plus a late and rather surprising addition that nonetheless ended up being very welcome) would accompany Komand'r back Tamaran to help her liberate her people from Kalibak, just in case he had brought more forces. As for Garfield, he would stay with Clark's parents. But as powerful as each of us were, and as Komand'r noted, we couldn't all be everywhere, and while incredibly resilient, the Fortress of Doom sorely lacked offensive capabilities, and the ones it had I didn't want to reveal, not yet, not even to non-earthlings.
Not that the lack of numbers couldn't be solved.
Remember at the beginning of the story, when I laid down several works around the Fortress? Well, not all of it was for future human colonization. It was also that the rest of the League when they found out, did not take kindly, especially Bruce, even though it paid off in the long run.
But first, though, we had to prepare and, most importantly, know where our destination was. Good thing we had a map of the entire Milky Way galaxy.
"Where's Tamaran?"
Another arc begins, and the Justice League (or at least a chunk of it) will be going on their first interstellar mission/quest/adventure/journey. Hope you liked this chapter.
Preparations
When Clark arrived with the group, I knew he had expected my surprise to be some sort of warship, not what they saw marching around the walls of the fortress, a true anachronism of medieval architecture and modern warfare
His attitude was understandable, considering that he had just found out that Mars had been not just my home and a testbed for colonization, but also the forge of an army of walking tanks, a fact that I had been hiding since my arrival and of which only John, Grundy and Rachel knew about.
UAC, or rather, ARC assault mechs, modified by me, autonomous drones just a tad bigger than Grundy with enough firepower, protection (autocannons on both their arms as general purpose weapons, a ventral laser cannon for hard targets, and back RPGs to deal with airborne enemies, all under seven tons of heavy alloys) and mobility (able to run up to eighty kilometers per hour and fly a short distance) to match and even surpass most other robots made on Earth. Not the best thing in the universe, and not at all able to deal with the likes of me or Clark, but very capable nonetheless, and most importantly large in number, with seven hundred of them already out and nearly ten times that number in the caverns deep below the fortress, awaiting for a proper spearhead in Tamaran. There was also an entire wing of armed drones and more, and VEGA was thinking of building a starship just in case another mobile base with more and concentrated firepower was needed, but the mechs were the bulk of the army.
And yes, if I wanted to, I could easily manufacture the larger mecha, two hundred foot tall mechanical monsters designed to fight Hell's titans on even ground (and failed on the task, unlike their Argenta homologues), but the current legion would be enough.
"Bruce is not going to take it well, nor a good chunk of the League for that matter." Clark noted. He and the others were standing on a barrier dome I had erected outside the Fortress. One year of constant working had bore fruit, but none of them wanted to risk it after years of misinformation. As for why were we out instead of already in, I'll admit of not remembering the exact reason, but part of it was them wanting to see Mars' surface from outide the fortress, and waiting for someone Clark knew. Again, we could have done that inside. Anyway, nearly everyone that signed up for the mission was already there; all that was left was the Flash, and someone else.
"I don't particularly care what Bruce cares about at this moment." I replied "After all, they are not going to Gotham any time soon."
Clark frowned, but before he could say Komand'r, who had been standing behind us, spoke ahead of him.
"Neither do I care for this 'Bruce' reaction" Komand'r replied as she gazed upon the silent army of machines. Despite her frown, it was clear to me that she was impressed by what she was seeing.", as long as the robots help me liberate Tamaran. Of course, I haven't seen them in action, but still, an awfully good show of force from a guy living in a stone fortress."
"What about us?" Kara asked, clearly annoyed.
"They look impressive, most of you don't, as simple as that. Do you have any problem with that?" She didn't get a response. "No? Good." With that she focused on the army again.
"A bit insulting." Kara said with annoyance, folding her arms.
"Just wait until we get to Tamarin or whatever; she'll change her tune when she sees you flying and lasering and what you usually do." Grundy replied from outside the barrier.
Clark nodded at that. "And besides, she's stressed and angry given what happened to her and her people."
Kara's frown went from annoyance to worry. "Clark, are we really going to face… well, you know who?"
Clark gave her (and himself) a reassuring smile. "I doubt it. You know he hates Kalibak, and she said that only a singe ship came. It'll be a bit hard, but I think we'll be able to fight them." Or rather, he hoped we wouldn't. Despite beating him the last time, I knew Clark didn't want to face Darkseid ever again, both because of his prowess and for more personal reasons, not that he wouldn't if he had to. As for Kalibak, he still was Darkseid's son.
Finally, Wally arrived last, but he didn't come alone. He had told us he would be bringing someone new with him, a former criminal that wanted a clean slate
A gangly, yet fit man in his early thirties wearing a shirt and a speedo, strangely shaped goggles, at least until until he got close and I realized the goggles were his eyes.
Patrick O'Brian, former common crook known as 'Eel' turned metahuman the same way Joker became, well, himself, only not losing or warping his sanity… but still becoming, in John's own words, a total crank out of the Golden Age.
Better known as Plastic Man.
Who was at that moment panting like a dog because unlike Wally, he had somehow ended up outside the barrier for three seconds before Wally pulled him in. Now, there was already enough air for the average human to be on the surface for a couple minutes. That was the first sign that Patrick was, well, eccentric, to say the least.
"The gum man? That guy? Neat!" Mecha said with glee, even though he didn't even know of Plastic Man's existence until that moment. Unfortunately, he was the only one.
"This guy? Really? Some weirdo in a speedo?" Pausanias deadpanned. "Is he another speed freak like you?"
"Excuse you Centurion, but I'm a whole different freak than Flashy here!"
"He's actually an hoplite. Well, sometimes." Ayame replied.
"Centurion, hoplite, viking, swiss, I don't really-holy crap, is that the Trade Federation's droid army?!" He exclaimed when he saw the mech battalion. "You didn't tell me we'd be invading Naboo!"
This caused some to laugh, some to groan, and the rest to stare, sans Komand'r, who instead growled at the display.
"Where did you find him?" I asked Wally, ignoring the conversation.
"You might not believe it: as a car tire in a junkyard. I'm being honest, I found him literally rolled around the wheel of a clown car even. I thought he was part the hell out of me when he spoke to me."
"Why did you bring this bozo, exactly?"
Wally opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted "An awesome reason: I can turn into anything AND everything!" Patrick boasted. "Okay, not exactly turn, since I remain me, but if you asked me to take the shape of a tank, I can do it! Heck, just take a look at this!"
Naturally, the end result was more of a giant tank-shaped balloon, on with a grinning face in the turret. None of them realized he sank a little on the ground. Naturally again, none of them were terribly impressed.
"Woah, you are some kind of… dunno, living rubber gasbag?"
"Did you fall in a chemical bath with a Luffy doll or something?"
"That's supposed to be a tank?" Kara asked outloud. "Looks more like the parade's Clifford balloon had to be resewn with a giant Brawl after getting wet too many times."
"'Giant Brawl'? As in Brawl the decepticon?"
"I've seen things, okay?"
"We could use him like a decoy, make it seem like we have, dunno, a giant robot. Make them target him instead of us."
"Like the Allies did in D-Day?"
"Oh c'mon! I didn't come all the way to Mars just to be mocked! Granted, it's not like I care or anything, but still, uncool, especially from you people!" Patrick said, indignant by the treatment he was receiving from the people he wanted to join.
The fact that Patrick could alter both his size, shape and mass, however, occurred to few, me and Wally included. People underestimated what he could do if forced to. The closest thing I could think of him was a combination of Mr. Fantastic and Ant-Man, exchanging academic intelligence for book smarts and a willingess to get his entire body dirty in a fight, sometimes metaphorically, sometimes literally… and kill if he had to, which he already had by the time I met him.
Fortunately for the entire universe, he was haaappy being a heroic goofball wanting to be in the 'Super Friends Group' and standing right next to Doomguy.
"So, can I come and kick alien ass?"
"Consider this your probation to enter the League."
Patrick grinned at that. "Great! What exactly are we going to do in that planet… exactly?"
"Kill, maim and more or less exterminate an army of space pseudo-demons led by one of the sons of one of the most powerful beings in the universe… who incidentally is the same guy who attacked Earth three years ago."
"You men those winged freaks, eh? Kill them, too? Well, I'm more of a petty crook, and got to shoot a couple of them during the occupation, but…" Patrick raised a hand and clenched it into a fist before making it grow in size… and bigger… until it surpassed Grundy in size. A fist, which going by the fact the ground shook a bit when he slammed it down on the ground had to weigh at least a couple tons. "Will this be enough?"
"The fuck?"
"Did you just defy the laws of matter?" Rachel asked as she touched the fist. "Because whatever you are inside is not hot air. And no, it's not magic, I would know."
I decided to ignore them for the moment, focusing on Patrick. "Do you feel pain if something hits or strikes you in anwyay?"
He thought about it for a moment before shrugging. "Depends. I particularly hate pointy and sharp things, but if I see them coming they can't do much."
"And high temperatures?"
Again, he thought it over. "Well, there was this one guy who tried to melt me thinking I was an actual gum man. Does acid count as hot?"
"Corrosion and heat are not directly correlated."
"Why?"
"Because, as I have just told you, we are going to face an army armed with powerful heat-based weapons."
He thought it over before once more shrugging, this time with a smirk. "The very first thing I did after finding out my new station in life was to swan dive into a cauldron of molten metal: couldn't see anything, but that was it. Might as well been that japanese curry thing, wizaba."
"Wasabi."
"Whatever."
We had the motivation, we had the capacity, and most importantly, thanks to Komand'r, we had the perfect location to attack Apokolips' army… if Kalibak had been stupid enough to not change anything.
"This is how we'll do it…"
Yeah, I'm bringing Plastic Man into the mix, and he'll get to show just how powerful can he be when riled up. Also, the mech army was foreshadowed in the earlier chapters but there was little need for it, so I'm not pulling it out of my ass; just saying this in case.
Also, DaneNagai is finally uploading Justice: Rip and Tear here, which in turn is the sole reason Until It's Done exists, so be good chaps and read it (and comment and like too, since it and he deserve it).
Last edited: Dec 24, 2022
The Liberation of Tamaran
Tamaran, a planet located on the edge of Perseus' Arm, was inhabited by a species of feline-descended humanoids. Despite looking a lot like humans aside from their skin and eye color, they were closer to kryptonians (who were more or less human themselves) in physiology: flight, super strength, and even the capacity to generate spheres of energy, all thanks to a quirk in their biology that allowed their bodies to absorb solar energy.
The tamaranean people weren't competely peaceful, what with their somewhat passion-driven culture, but they weren't exactly warlike like many other species either, despite being among the most powerful in the known universe. They had what earthlings called a live and let live mentality: you didn't bother them, they didn't bother you, helped by the aforementioned powers. Indeed, they didn't have a true concept of war, the last one having ended three hundred years prior.
Naturally, this lack of violence meant they weren't proficient in combat. For obvious reasons, though, most pirates and slavers still steered away from the system, not wanting to anger the superpowerful natives capable of flying to their ships and tear through their hulls.
But unfortunately for everyone, this would soon change.
It was an enormous vessel, bigger than any the tamaraneans had ever seen, very angular and black with glowing lines across its hull, a giant cylinder in the shape of a missile, but other than that it didn't seem to have weapons on it. The foreboding shape of the vessel should have raised flags on the mind of the queen, but after she and her guard went to it and received nothing resembling a response, they left it alone, thinking it was a derelict.
It wasn't.
It approached Tamaran's orbit, but rather than going on it actually stopped after a couple of days of rotating around the planet, then entered its atmosphere. Other than giving the natives a spook, though, the ship didn't do anything. A couple braves even dared to tap the hull, but even this drew no reaction from the crew, if it even had one.
Since the ship had gone straight towards the planet, Komand'r thought it probably had to be some sort of trading vessel, due to its sheer size and lack of apparent weapons. She was confident she, Koriand'r, and the Tamaranean Royal Guard would be able to deal with the strangers in case they were hostile, but again, she decided for whoever was inside to give signs of life before acting.
Given where the ship came from, and who exactly commandeered it, though, her actions would had been for naught.
Eventually, a hole opened in the underside of the ship, from which came a bright light, but again, no living creature. Komand'r sent a couple of envoys. The worst thing that could happen would be a kidnapping or the death of a couple plebeians she didn't particularly care about.
They didn't expect the envoys' heads to be dropped onto the royal palace, followed by a literal swarm of armored monsters, with someone more akin to a beast than a man at the lead, a mace in his hands and bloodthirsty savagery in his eyes.
Just a week later, after doing their best to fight and after the queen and her sister left for help, the entire planet and its inhabitants fell under the invaders. When it came to it, however it wasn't like the tamaraneans could have done more.
After all, only one single planet had ever resisted the will of Apokolips, and only when its strongest champion managed to defeat the overlord… at a heavy price.
The tamaraneans, unaccustomed to combat as a whole and without their leaders to guide them, quickly submitted to this man-shaped monster, only to eventually regretting their decision when their new masters began to put them to work, but not for the usual reasons.
The leader was called Kalibak, the Cruel. Apparently the son of the leader the ship came from, he had invaded Tamaran in search of glory for his people, glory he wanted to earn by enslaving the tamaranean people and inflicting suffering upon their flesh and spirit. The thought of someone even worse than the brute only occurred to a few, though, for the rest were more preoccupied with staying alive at the hands of Kalibak, who after proclaiming the planet his began a campaign of subjugation across Tamaran to stamp out resistance fighters, and prove why and how did he earned his epiphet. Soon, however, it became obvious he wasn't doing it to consolidate his power; Kalibak simply wanted an excuse to burn entire cities down and put the survivors to either the sword, or the 'tender' touch of his army of monsters, if he didn't do the deed himself
Those who never resisted didn't have it any better, and in fact they probably had it worse, being forced to menial works that didn't yield anything but pain and suffering, with one particular area standing above all the others… or rather, below: the Quarry.
The Quarry, again, yielded no minerals, nor anything that could be used in any way; its real purpose was to crush the populace, to kill their wills, their souls, and sometimes their lives too. Those who either refused to submit completely or couldn't work were sent there to spend the rest of their short lives being forced to mine rock with their bare hands, usually a trivial task if not for the permanently clouded skies, with chains designed to cause discomfort at best and agony at worst, and being whipped by the guards, for no real reason sans the invaders' amusement… or at least, those who could feel amusement, which in the army numbering millions meant only Kalibak and his lieutenants, for the 'rank and file' had no will, no intelligence, nothing that could really separate them from actual machines aside from being completely organic under their armor.
Parademons. Not the strongest, nor the smartest, nor the most skilled of Apokolips' forces, but they were fierce, fearless, and legion. Now matter how many died in battle, hundreds awaited behind to take their arms and finish the fight. The bright people were strong, very strong, but they found out that the space-borne demons were limitless, and their weapons were still more than able to kill them despite their powers.
And then one day, on a particularly hectic 'mining session' (if killing more slaves in a single day than any previous day can be considered hectic), a large, blue swirl of light opened right in the middle of the open mine, and another, and a third one, the smoky sky above them parting.
And from the vortices, came mechanical monsters. They had two legs and two arms, but that was the extent of their tamaraneanoid form: their forearms ended in barrels, their heads were little more than sensors, and the machines themselves were the size of small houses.
The parademons knew only two things: serve their master, his progeny and Apokolips' elite, and kill their enemies. Energy cannon fire sweeped the area the robots were in, lasting for a good ten seconds. When the dust cleared out, however, they saw something they had rarely seen before: the target of their wrath standing safe and sound… and aiming their cannons at them.
And then the robots retaliated.
Parademons were tough, their armor tougher still, and could go on as long as their major organs were intact, but the robots' weaponry had been designed to deal with even stronger, harder targets, and aimed by incredibly advanced guiding systems.
Guns blazing and feet marching, the machines didn't bother to stop, shooting at the parademons as they moved. Armor and even physiology designed to withstand a surprising amount of damage might as well have been paper against the robots' cannons, doing nothing to stop the heavy caliber rounds tearing them to pieces. In the rare case they didn't fire, their arms were more than enough to crush the winged beasts to a pulp.
Claw, gun, fang, numbers… Nothing, nothing could damage the metal beasts! Had the parademons been actually sapient, at least a couple of them might have felt what humans called 'déjávu', what with being on the receiving end of an alien invasion. The slaves definitely did, wondering where did the robots come from among many other things, at least until it became clear that the machines had come to rescue them when several began to break their chains.
One parademon managed to survive the onslaught and approach one of the machines, taking advantage of its smaller size providing it with some protection. With no way of damaging the machines directly, it chose a different approach: try to rip its head off, try to render it blind or deaf.
What the parademon didn't count on, however, was that the arms were not only capable of reaching any section of the bot's upper body, but also capable of extend a couple feet. That meant the robot the parademon tried to attack didn't even let it touch its chassis, literally slapping the beast downwards… and like its companion, not stopping.
The last thing the parademon ever saw was the foot of the metal monster flying towards its head, with nothing in between to stop it.
I know it's short, but does it have the proper drama of having your home invaded by an ork warboss wannabe and his pseudo-demon army, or maybe it's not enough?
Last edited: Jan 7, 2023
The Reclamation of Tamaran
I placed the Fortress in one of Tamaran's moons, on its dark side, before sending the mech army through to create a spearhead. Clark was still unsure, but I assured him that the robots wouldn't hurt the tamaraneans in any way. After that I opened several portals across Tamaran, all leading to Apokolips' strongholds, to cause the maximum initial and free the people before we went in. The occupation forces, despite outnumbering them more than ten to one, were caught off guard by their repentine appearance, and their combined firepower was enough to keep it even. Then, with the areas around them secure, we'd set up strong points to hold and heal the slaves.
Even before that, however, we knew that the ship Kalibak came in had to go, both for practical reasons and because we wanted to give a massive show of force. Going by Komand'rs account and Clark's knowledge of Apokolips, that ship could easily hold a few hundred thousand parademons, plus proper apokoliptians, and that was not counting the many more that came after to secure the planet. For an entire planet of superhuman aliens, it seemed as if Kalibak had come unprepared, but then, he hadn't come to conquer, it had a teleporter linked to Apokolips, and we didn't want to take a risk with that thing, even though Kalibak wasn't on it when we attacked. That's where me, Clark and Grundy came in. The rest, again, would help Komand'r deal with the parademon army.
Fortunately, Clark's no killing rule did not apply to parademons, not that the others would had bothered following it given their last experience with the creatures.
Parademons. Not demons proper, but the closest a creature not from Hell could get. Quoting a certain scientist, they had nothing in them that could resemble a living organism: no glands, no digestice tracts, no souls. Just pure, unaltered evil, and the single goal of fulfilling any order that came from Darkseid or his circle, just like actual demons, both from DC and DOOM Hells, and those ones in particular followed a very cruel man.
Which, again, meant none of us had to hold back when it came to the fight. You already know what me, Clark and Grundy could do and were doing, so I'm not gonna bother with us; instead, I'll focus on the others.
First, Kara, and compared to the others she preferred to help the people rather than fight, which actually took guts given the parademons focused on her. It wasn't the first time she fought parademons, but she focused more on freeing the slaves, breaking their shackles and taking them to safety while the mechs did most of the fighting.
John might as well have been Thor in plate, crushing any parademon that tried to fight him in melee in an uncharacteristic show of rage, obviously result of Apokolips' previous invasion, and even though his armor couldn't take as much damage as we could, he was more than able of dodging their blasts. It helped he went directly to a group of mechs to help them, and in turn be helped by.
Rachel simply grabbed and smashed them by the dozens, a simple yet effective method to fight. She did have a threshold where her magic reached a certain point, the one involving her parentage, but even a thousand frenzied parademons weren't nowhere enough for her to reach that point. Later when we reviewed the battle, the others became surprised when they saw what she could do in a proper fight. After that she didn't waste time rescuing the slaves in her area, her magic making the job trivial.
Mecha-Boi simply flew, blasted at anything below him, and kicked any parademon that got close. Not impressive at first, until he began to fly at mach five, and then through parademons. Add in the fact he was quite heavy despite being four feet tall, and you get a kinetic kill vehicle that couldn't be destroyed.
Pausanias and Ayame made one hell of a team: his shield could petrify scores of parademons at the same time, and those that didn't have the misfortune of flying at the moment were shatted by the dozens by Ayame. and the mere sight of just two people, however strong they were, hacking parademons apart with only swords inspired the slaves to take up whatever they could get their hands on and fight.
Komand'r focused on freeing her people, but that didn't stop her from tearing any parademon that attacked her apart with her bare hands, even forgoing her energy spheres to do so.
But none of us, not even me, counted on Patrick to cause the most destruction, and unlike the others he was entirely by himself. One moment, he was a colossus stomping and smashing the enemy, the next he was reenacting the Tasmanian Devil and tearing parademons apart in a bloody tornado, then creating a nearly literal forest of blades to increase the carnage. A bit offset by his corny delivery of one-liners, but other than that, he was the first in wipe out all the parademons near him.
As for the mechs themselves, again, what they lacked in numbers they more than compensated with firepower, resilience, and VEGA's matrix giving providing them with unparalleled coordination.
Meanwhile, we three bruisers. Because of the ship's size VEGA couldn't open a portal, and even then it could jump away; for that, we had to disable it first. First, me and Clark would distract its defense complement and destroy it, while at the same time Grundy, who had no way to help us due to a being unable to fly, began to destroy it from inside. Again, parademons made up the vast majority of the crew alongside a small detachment of apolokoliptians warriors, part of Kalibak's entourage. These proved to be much more skilled and stronger than the fodder, enough to give the underpowered embodiment of Earth's Green trouble, but all came to an end when Clark and me arrived. Again, the no killing rule did not apply to them, so I won't say more. After that and a quick portal to the middle of interstellar space, we focused once more in destroying the ship, eventually causing whatever passed for a reactor to explode far away from any celestial body, after which we returned to the main fight.
We also saw things there, things I'm not going to describe, but all they did was push us forward in destroying it, and take Kalibak out.
And then, fresh of our collective victories, Mecha-Boi discovered it. Later we found out there were more of it like it in several locaitons across Tamaran, but it was by far the biggest of the lot. As for what exactly was it…
"Guys… I think you oughta see this, all of you." The tone of his voice made clear he had found something terrifying, but what?"
"What is it?"
"Just… Just come to my coordinates and see, please."
We all did, and found Mecha in the middle of a deserted area of the planet, several miles away from the closest settlement, and standing near the edge of a slope.
"Mecha, what is it?" Ayame asked.
Mecha didn't. Had he been human, he'd been hyperventilating. Given what we saw, added to his mental age, it was the proper response.
Grundy voiced my thoughts.
"Well, damn."
A pit, one larger than any stadium, and full to the brim with corpses. Men, women and children of all ages laid in front of us, many not decomposed enough.
Komand'r didn't cry, didn't scream at the sight in front of her. She merely clenched her hands into fists, inadvertently causing them to flash green. Even though it was clear it hurt her to see her people treated like trash by Apokolips, rage overpowered her sorrow.
"I'll fucking kill him."
The others took it worse: Kara, Ayame and Patrick were horrified, John simply stared in abject horror, Mecha-Boi just didn't move, and Clark was on his knees, his mind gone back to Darkseid's invasion.
A grim reminder of what Apokolips was about, and what Darkseid wanted for all of existence. And this was just an uppity princeling's doing.
Just then, the corpses closest to us began to shift: something was moving beneath them. Only, it wasn't an undead creature what Rachel grabbed. It was a living tamaranean, hacking and panting. Komand'r gasped after recognizing him.
"Galfore!" She screamed before dragging him out of there.
"Your father?" I asked.
"Her nanny, and second in command of the army." Galfore replied before she could say anything, his voice deep and resonant, as Komand'r helped him up.
Tall and broad of shoulders, and with a pinkish-red beard larger than mine, the man would have been a mountain in better times, but even though he stood tall and proud the parts of his body we could see were covered either in scars or ulcers, especially on his hands and legs.
"The bastard nailed me to a wall me and tortured me every time he could for three days, but that didn't kill me, and he was too apathetic to finish the job, so he had me buried under all those poor folks there, hoping I'd either starve or suffocate." The fact he didn't say 'crushed', or that he managed to escape at all despite being weakened, spoke volumes of his determination. Despite this, it was also clear he was still tired and devastated, and of course wounded.
"Under all… that?" Patrick gestured at the sea of bodies. "Did Kalibak..?" He trailed off, but it was obvious what he meant.
Galfore shook his head. "I don't know, but they were already dead when I saw them falling on me. He simply ordered them dumped them on me. Not that that's any better. I had to dig through the bodies of my people for three days."
"Three days…"
"Are you okay."
Galfore grunted before straightening himself. "It still hurts, but I'll survive." He looked at us once more, and even though his face didn't change I could see a fire light in his eyes. "The help?"
"Yes."
Galfore grunted. "Never expected more aliens to look like us. Where's your sister?"
"We got separated during the jump. I love her, you know that, but I wasn't going to search the entire galaxy with Kalibak."
Once again, Komand'r looked at the pit once more. "How many?" She didn't bother to specificy, there was no need to.
Galfore stood in silence for several seconds, before finally responding. "At least a third."
"A third of what?" Pausanias asked, his eyes focused on the bodies.
"Tamaran's entire population. Out of five million, going by our last census. He's really keen on exterminating us, but I'm pretty sure you knew that already."
"Jesus Christ…" I think I saw Clark shake for a moment. A third out of a population several million meta-aliens, murdered.
Komand'r didn't say anything, but her clenched jaw and trembling fists made clear what she was feeling at those news.
"Then there's still the ship. It can raze an entire city to rubble, I would know, and somehow they get more of their freaks from it. Could be teleportation, could be a hive, don't know, don't care." He looked at the sky, not knowing it wouldn't bother Tamaran anymore. "I think the only reason Tamaran isn't a burning hell is that they like to dirty their hands with blood." He then spat on the ground. "Bastards."
"That thing? We already destroyed it."
Galfor looked at us, understandably skeptical. "Say what again?"
"We took it out. Unfortunately Kalibak wasn't on board, but at least there won't be any more reinforcements coming from Apokolips."
"That had to be one hell of a bomb, then."
"Nope, we just punched it apart. From the inside, but still."
Galfor's skepticism turned into bewilderment. "You three destroyed that monster by yourselves? Just you?"
"Kalibak's father attacked our world a while back, with a much greater force, but we still managed to kick them out. A single ship wasn't much of a problem."
"His… father? He invaded your planet, yet you won? And then you came here" At that Clark nodded. Galfor then collapsed, partly because of his wounds and exhaustion, but the smile on his face made the main reason clear. "We're saved."
Nonetheless, I didn't waste time in sending him to the Fortress' infirmary, although only after a bit of struggling and Komand'r more or less ordering him.
Kalibak. He didn't really want to conquer Tamaran, nor rule it. All he wanted was to prove Darkseid he was fit of his approval by killing as many people as possible, the strongest, the better, no matter if they could fight back or not. Not that the tamaraneans hadn't fought, but they weren't warriors, they weren't used to fight people like Kalibak.
Unlike his father, though, could be stopped for good with only
He had to die. Thing was, despite his hatred for Apokolips and what Kalibak had done, Clark wouldn't want to be the one to put him down. The only one he had ever wanted to actually kill was his father.
Komand'r had no such compunction. The problem, again, was that Kalibak was much stronger than she was. Fortunately, it wasn't anything that a little help and a lot of rage couldn't fix
To do that, though, we had to find him. Fortunately, we had the bait.
How's the chapter? Did I overdo it with the mass grave, or is it a good way to demonstrate Apokolips' might and Kalibak's bloodthirst? As for how Kalibak, who's still an idiot here, actually managed to plan the invasion, something that even the SI has taken for granted… I'm also writing another crossover SI, Fastest (and Greenest) Gun In Mobius. This it's time a fusion between Fallout (and Metro, and S.T.A.L.K.E.R) and Sonic The Hedgehog, mostly Archie, and the SI is also a super mutant (there aren't others. Yet. It's only a few chapters long, but those who have read it said it's promising.
The Beast and the Tyrant
Kalibak ruminated in his underground castle. The conquest of Tamaran hadn't been as easy as he hoped, even if he had pulled it off in the end, wiping out most of the resistance.
"Damn weaklings, not knowing when they are beaten…" He growled to no one in particular, even though he wasn't alone in the hall, not that anyone could even think to dare.
It all began one day, several months prior, with Kalibak prowling in the depths of his home planet in a self-appointed exile, years of being an utter failure in Darkseid's eyes finally getting through him. He didn't wish for death, and the abominations that made the darkness their home were of no threat to him, but something in him just didn't care about living anymore. His savagery, his bloodthirst, it was all meaningless if he couldn't draw satisfaction from them, and at that point, all he could do to feel joy was try to appease his progenitor… which failed, no matter how hard he tried. He didn't care being seen as little more than a mindless beast, for he knew what he was and relished on it, but he wanted to at least be seen as useful, not a waste of genes.
But then, one day, a man, a wizard going by his robes and the fact he literally appeared out of thin air, wanted to speak to him in private to talk about something that could improve his image. This, among other reasons, stopped Kalibak from killing the man on the spot.
Except, it wasn't DeSaad, and he knew the old man enough to know it wasn't a glamour to mock him; it wasn't one of his acolytes either. Still, with that face and sneer, it was obvious he was from Apokolips, if not a New God, or at least one he knew of.
"Speak quickly, wizard? Can't you see I'm sulking in the dark?" Kalibak growled.
"What if I told you of a way to draw our master's attention, in a way that would allow you to test your prowess and cruelty, oh, mighty Kalibak?"
Prowess? Cruelty? His father's attention? "Be quick about it."
The wizard told him about a world, Tamaran. Its people were individually powerful, bestowed with strength, flight and the ability to launch attacks of pure energy from their hands among other things, but they were relatively few in number, and they weren't particularly violent either. Physically strong yet militarily weak, the perfect target for Kalibak. Better yet, despite being close to Green Lanter space, the natives had bad blood with them, so if anyone came to invade, they wouldn't receive any aid from the peacekeepers. It went both ways, however, for razing a planet was life for Apokolips' at large, and Kalibak wanted to prove his mettle.
No, Kalibak had to do it by himself… alongside his own inner circle, his personal yacht, and whatever parademons he desired. The ship's complement would be more than enough to control Tamaran; better yet, DeSaad, either out of pity or support for a possible venture, had given him the capacity to open a Boom tube in the ship, allowing him to have an endless army to throw at whoever had the audacity of drawing Apokolips' attention.
The fools thought that his obviously malicious ship was harmless, even allowing him to fly it to their orbit! Clearly, these fools had no idea of how the universe worked outside their petty planet! Fortunately, Kalibak was more than happy to teach them the ways of life. Apokolips' ways.
And then, after most of the planet was taken, and its most powerful warriors killed or on the run, Kalibak put its people through a period of terror and agony, in which his knowledge of the basic humanoid anatomy shone as he inflicted unspeakable pain on anyone he wanted to 'operate on' personally, if he didn't 'offer' them the tender mercy of his mace crushing their skulls after beating them to near death. Indeed, that was too merciful for a bunch of submissive slaves, he thought with a toothy grin.
Soon, his father would have no other option than admit that his was worthy of a bit of his approval, just enough, and that he had earned his epiphet.
And this time, there would be no kryptionian to meddle in his quest.
Currently, Kalibak was sitting on his new throne, deep in the soil of Tamaran, as his serfs worked around him. Despite his simple nature and bloodlust, and contrary to what many apokoliptians thought of him, his father included, Kalibak was not stupid: having a base into which anyone could enter with ease made the master of the keep seem stupid, and by extension whoever had raised them. He had learned that lesson in the past.
And then, lost deep in thought as he was, Kalibak was interrupted when one of the serfs called for his attention.
"Master, it appears we have uninvited guests."
Intrigued yet annoyed, Kalibak grunted. "Show it to me."
One of the holoscreens they brought from the ship came on, showing a black-haired, armored tamaranean with a furious look plowing through a rank of parademons.
Queen Komand'r herself. Stupid name, but Kalibak didn't care for that.
The return of the monarch brought a smile to Kalibak's face. Finally! Now he'd be able to both truly consolidate his hold on the planet by taking out its ruler, and inflict with the many tortures he had planned for her. After all, he had practiced them on that oaf he had buried under corpses.
"So, the coward has returned! Finally. Tell the shipmaster to not intervene, she's mine." He said to the same slave.
"Master, your ship… It's not responding." The serf replied.
Kalibak huffed in anger. "The fool will face my wrath, then."
"No, master. The ship's not responding to the calls."
Kalibak's eyes widened as he looked at the slave. His ship, just like many other apokoliptian constructs, was alive and intelligent, enough to ignore the shipmaster on board to obey any of Kalibak's whims as long as they had his signature; the shipmaster was there exclusively to guard it, even when Kalibak was away. That it didn't respond in any way…
"That… That can only mean one thing."
Inmediately Kalibak jumped from his throne, the slave wriggling in his clawed hand. If something had happened to the vessel…
"What. Do. You. Mean." He asked in a low, threatening voice. Usually he'd roared the question, but the circumstances made it come as a whisper.
"It… it has been… destroyed."
"By whom, you miserable wretch?!" Kalibak roared as he shook the little thing around, not caring that he could snap its neck.
The serf's continuous hacking reminded Kalibak that it needed to breathe, if only to speak, and thus he released it.
"A… a kryptonian, by the looks of it."
Kalibak's eyes slowly widened in a growing horror. There were only two kryptonians still alive after the destruction of their world, and only one of them was strong enough to destroy a ship by his lonesome.
"We have visuals!" A serf cried out.
"Show me!" Kalibak roared
And then, through the hardlight screen, he saw him, drapped in that stupid red cape of his… and a human in armor, and a machine, and many more machines, and…
Superman! The bastard of Krypton was there, and he had brought an entire army with him!
Kalibak watched in trepidation as the so-called Man of Steel tore parademons apart with his bare hands, burned them with his eyes, or outright flew through them, a look of determined anger on his face. Apparently his unwillingness to kill didn't apply to parademons, or Kalibak's actions had forced his hand. The others, while nowhere as powerful, were still more than a match for his army.
And then there were his other, closest companions, the ones with him at the moment: a gray-skinned, cadaveric giant, at least twice the height and ten times the weight of the kryptonian, who was clearly enjoying the destruction he was causing, and an armored warrior, who unlike the other two used weapons, large contraptions not disimilar to what Earth's resistance used during the occupation, except much, much bigger and clearly more powerful. Any desire of ripping their faces off and eating them died when he watched as both helped Kal-El tear his ship, and its crew, from the inside out, all a mere cosmical unit away from Tamaran.
Except, going by the time of their arrival and the location, it hadn't moved by itself.
"Rewind!" Kalibak roared, the hologram doing so.
Those in the hall watched in a mix of fascination and horror as a blue vortex swallowed the ship, taking it far from Tamaran, before the trio destroyed it.
"They have Boom tubes!" A serf screamed in terror before another attacked him. The mere thought of someone not of Darkseid's bloodline or his inner circle possessing such magic was blasphemy.
Kalibak swallowed hard. Either that wizard lied to him to send him to his death, or wanted to make Kalibak prove his mettle against powerful enemies. Both possibilities were equally enraging, but the latter had the benefit of having a benevolent goal, if it could be called such.
There was also the fact that his father would not tolerate anyone but himself killing the kryptonian, if they were capable of such a feat. Kalibak was somewhat eager to fight the hero to test his power, but he did not want to incur Darkseid's wrath.
The others would had been fair game, but the fact they seemed to match the kryptonian in strength, and definitely surpassed him in ferocity, made him pause.
What should he do? What could he do?! Kill the interlopers, take the kryptonian prisoner, then bring him to his father? Nigh impossible, but not fully unfeasible. Go in raging and hope he can cause enough damage before they brought him down? Blow up the fortress, whose energy source was powerful enough to kill everything in the contnent, as an act of spite?
"Master, what do we do?" One of the serfs asked, terrified out of its wits.
"Maybe we should call Apo-" The wretch who opened his jaws didn't have time for anything before Kalibak sent his mace through his skull.
"No one shall call Apokolips!" Kalibak roared, spittle flying from his mouth. "This is my fight, mine alone!"
Far away, deep in the darkness of the sublevels of Apokolips, a red-eyed titan and a robed figure watched Kalibak break down half a galaxy away, the titan's eyes narrowing in derisive anger at the display of the brute.
"I still can't believe he's blood." The giant muttered in annoyance as he watched. Kalibak may had been the last vestiges of Suli, and his heart was already hard to begin with, but the fool's constant failures had finally made him think he wasn't worthy of living, nor being killed properly, but he didn't want to waste his strength. Either he became strong enough to warrant aproval, or he died like the rest. He did like the suffering he inflicted upon Tamaran, but that didn't correlate to either power or aproval.
The warlock at his side chuckled. Had Darkseid been a mortal and better man, he'd found it unsettling. "And soon, if he doesn't become what he's supposed to be, he shall not." His haggard appearance belied an incredible power and depravation, one that Darkseid could actually respect, even if he could still send him to oblivion with but a flick. "Just remember our deal, oh, great destructor."
Darkseid nodded. "Trigon will get his daughter, as long as I get his word that he won't pester me anymore." Demons and their ilk, he could intimidate into fleeing or submitting, even the most powerful. But Trigon, an actual deity who simply happened to reside in the Nether? He'd accost his might out of spite. Had he asked for the ceasefire any other time, he'd killed the messanger and delivered his head in person, but for what he had planned he needed to focus without distractions, and so he accepted, plans to get the most of the deal nonwithstanding.
The warlock nodded, and with that, he went back to his master's side, leaving Darkseid to watch Kal-El and his companions make a mockery of Kalibak's (and by extension, his) army while the runt hid and panicked.
The armored warrior… He intrigued him, to say the least. Anyone else would had seen him as just another kryptonian, if a big one, but trying to fool Darkseid was like trying to fool Death: it was just impossible. And what he saw, thanks to a filter in the window, intrigued him: a fellow god, one who seemed to be more than happy to get his hands dirty. As for the giant undead, he oozed of elemental power, enough to make him an equal of the god. Each would be a match for him, mighty foes, if he'd bother to actually fight them.
Then there was Trigon's daughter, a gray-skinned, purple-haired beauty whose skin hid a power. Apparently she resided with the god and the giant in the former's fortress. He had been tempted on turning her into a Fury, but Trigon's spite would bee too much of an annoyance. Getting her would warrant an epic worthy of being told througout an eon, but it could be done; all that was needed was trickery, something Darkseid was very proficient in using.
Again, he could afford to wait.
Kalibak panics, Darkseid thinks, and Trigon isn't yet out of the picture. Did I write Kalibak and Darkseid right?
GhostMarine51 said:
Is there any way for the Slayer to get his Praetor Armour 2.0? He's still currently rocking Doom 2016s armor right? The second variation is awsome and has all the attachments, the fortress has a 3d printer so could it be made there?
Click to expand…
Click to shrink…
He already has it on; remember that many characters talk about his bare arms.
Barbaric Bob said:
~Apocalypse~
Darkseid: it's good to be an evil asshole
music*
Darkseid: whuzzat?
Metal music*
Darkseid: That's catchy… i fucking hate it since someone likes it
*METAL MUSIC*
Darkseid: The fu-*Chainsaw noises*
Click to expand…
Click to shrink…
I'm afraid it wouldn't be that simple. He's no Davoth, but Darkseid is still a fair bit stronger than the vast majority of DOOM enemies. Doesn't mean he woulnd't be sawed apart, only that it'd take a lot more effort than, say, a Tyrant.
Barricade said:
"Batman, what was your super power again?"
"… I'm rich."
"Good. Lets talk schematics."
And then have VEGA look over them to remove every single one of Bruce's overrides/cut-offs.
Not all of them, just enough. Just. Enough.
Click to expand…
Click to shrink…
ilikecrigley3real said:
Will the Night sentinel technology like the Atlan will appear in this SI?, since Doom slayer/guy did use them.
Click to expand…
Click to shrink…
Not if he wants to keep a comparatively low profile: they require Argent energy to work, nothing else, and aside from the fact he no longer uses it outside of himself, nor would tolerate its manufacturing for obvious reasons, that much Argent on a robot would attract attention from esoteric beings. Besides, ARC had giant mecha too, ones he can make without Argent, and despite failing utterly at stopping Hell they're still souped up, gun-toting Jaegers.
The Beast falls
The liberation of Tamaran proper ended up being swift and brutal. The apokoliptians that came with Kalibak, having grown lazy and bored with an easy victory, did not expect a proper enemy, much less one with the complete element of surprise and with several fighters just as strong, maybe even stronger, than their leader. The parademons exterminated, and their lieutenants taken out, all that was left was get to Kalibak, and kill him before his pride gave way to his cowardice and called Apokolips.
The problem was that we couldn't find him. Or rather, find out his exact location.
Kalibak, for once in his miserable life, had been smart when it came to his base; that, or had someone to think for him. He knew he couldn't match us, and so hid himself in a fortress deep inside Tamaran's crust, but no specific location, and it had no entrance per se, only a teleporter system.
Which was the reason our merry group, a couple days after taking out the last major parademon army, was brainstorming in the main hall of the Fortress, in
"Can't we just get your Durandal friend here… there… whatever, to get us straight to Kalibak?" Patrick asked. "I mean, if he can cross the galaxy he can get us to the center of the… Tamaran, right?"
"I'm afraid I can't reach his current location." Only because Kalibak had something stopping him from opening a portal right over him, something magical I was certain he didn't even have an idea protected him, possibly DeSaad's work. The possibility of a third party didn't occur to any of us until well after Kalibak died.
"That's it? The galaxy-spanning robot from the future can't get to some lion-alien bastard?"
"As simple as that."
"We can just dig him out, no?" Grundy asked. "Wouldn't be hard to just shove our way down until we hit something resembing a wall."
"Starting where, though?" Ayame pointed out. "How could you find the place if VEGA can't, GPS? A water stick?" She was being sarcastic, of course, but Grundy considered it, if not literally.
"Maybe if it's enchanted or something like that…"
"And even if we knew, it'd still take us time to dig, time I'd rather not waste." Clark replied. "I may fly faster than a speeding bullet, but I can't do that through an entire planet's worth of rock." Technically he could, the issue was he wouldn't.
"And that still leaves out the geographical damage that would cause, you know."
"An idea is an idea."
None of us expected the usually quiet John to say what he said next. Until that moment, even as he fought parademons, he had largely kept to himself, not truly stoically but still quiet. Again, we didn't him to basically explode.
"I say we shake the entire planet and crash his house over his head, force him to come out if he doesn't want to get crushed!" John proposed. His memory of Apokolips' invasion and occupation, plus being forced to fight the same monsters and see the atrocities they had committed, not that much worse than those he had seen, was taking a toll on his patience and cool. Had I known beforehand he'd take it badly, I'd had left him back on Earth, but I didn't, and thus had to deal with it.
As for his 'idea', we could actually pull it off, and quite easily at that if I, Grundy and Clark put our backs into it, but the magnitude he was thinking about would be catastrophic for Tamaran, to say the least, and even though he didn't specificy, we all had an idea, enough to piss Komand'r and Galfore off.
"It's my world you're talking about!" She growled at John, to which him, to her surprise (and everyone else's, for that matter), growled back.
"If we do nothing, he'll cause something far worse to happen!" His tone was a mix of anger and desperation. Again, he didn't want what Earth had gone through to happen again. Seeing the entire group focus on him, he forced himself to calm down. "That day, I watched good people get torn to shreds by monsters from space just for being on the wrong place at the wrong time. Here, I saw a mass grave that would make Himmler green with envy, and another, and another one. I just…" He sighed. Clark put a hand on his shoulder.
"John, easy."
"Relax man."
"Himmler?" Galfore asked.
"Part of a dark period of Earth's history." Pausanias replied. "Better for you to not know."
"I don't want it happening again, not here, not on Earth, not anywhere." John repeated. "And what if you said is right and he just leaves…"
Still, as excessive and misjudged as he was, he had something akin to a point given the situation. All our efforts, as… effortless as they had been, would be for nothing if Kalibak managed not only to survive but to escape, not just to make him pay, but also to make sure he wouldn't call Apokolips'. Neither me nor Clark were confident of our capability to fight their full might, at least not yet.
It was Rachel who found the solution to our problem, one so simple I mentally kicked myself for not realizing it sooner.
"We have to provoke him. Make him come out of his fortress and face us." She said.
"Force him to commit to a fight, then kill him." Rachel nodded at that.
"Would he fall for it, though?"
"Kalibak's a coward and not fully stupid, but he's still a brute, an animal, one who just happens to walk on two legs and talk. All we need is the proper bait."
"And the belief he can leave instead of fight." Pausanias interjected. "If we can force him to go to where we want him to, make it seem like he can escape, we'll have a massive advantage, and it'll avoid a cornered rattlesnake situation?"
"Rattlewhat?"
"Leave an animal with the possibility of escape, it'll do its damnest to fly. Corner it, and it'll fight, even to the death. In our case, Kalibak is the animal."
"Ah, the classic hunting strategy, trick the beast before ambushing it." Galefor nodded approvingly. "A proper end for a monster like him."
"That's fine and dandy, but still leaves out the fly problem. No fly, no fish." Patrick pointed out. "Oh, and if it ends up working, I'm not eating."
Galfore, who had been sitting until then, stood up with a wince. Even with my medical tech and his physiology, his wounds would take a while to heal, although that was more of a testament of Kalibak's 'skill'."I don't mind risking my life, so long as he doesn't outlive me for long."
Komand'r, as I expected, stepped forward before the others said anything.
"I'll go."
Galfore. "Komand'r…"
"I have to do it, Galfore. That bastard's been alive for too long, and besides he probably wants to finish what he started. He's been itching to wipe out my bloodline the moment me and Koriand'r left."
She also wanted to be the one to kill him for fairly obvious reasons, but she kept that to herself, not knowing I already knew and planned to help her on the task.
"Okay, bait, trap, all that crap, we have it." Patrick summarized. "Now how do we make Kalibak see it?"
Rachel smiled at that.
Whatever Kalibak had to stop VEGA, it didn't nullify pure magic. Sadly, she couldn't teleport or open portals, but what she could do was make Kolibak see Komand'r
"Kalibak, I have returned to kill you! You, black-haired bastard spawn of Darkseid! You're nothing but a rabid lap dog who can't do anything for itself, who yearns for something it will never get from its master! What I find hilarious is that your master is also your father! You are truly pathetic if you have to do tricks just to get his attention!"
The list was significantly longer than that, but I think this is enough for you and, most importantly, Kalibak.
Kalibak, as you know, was a deity, a lesser, minor one, but a deity nonetheless, and a New God to boot. That, coupled with being direct progeny of the God of Tyranny, meant he had an unhealthy amount of pride for someone so pitiful and cowardly half of the time. If that pride was struck enough, his fear, intelligence and common sense were completely overrun by anger. Add in the fact he was already bestial to begin with, and you get a choleric thug whose anger overrode everything else.
The sight of Komand'r standing tall and proud, and hearing her calling him a mindless monster unworthy of any form of dignity, be it from his slaves, his people, or mosty important of them all, his father, pissed him off, to say the least.
As in, he literally flew through several meters of solid rock out of sheer rage, mace raised high.
"ORANGE-SKINNED ALIEN WHORE!" He roared after landing, looking around for Komand'r with spittle coming from his mouth, common sense dulled to the point he didn't see a portal open above him and Komand'r flying out. "I WILL TEAR YOUR FACE OFF AND FEED IT TO MY DOGS!"
"Up here, bastard! You will have to get to me first!" Komand'r shouted back before flying away
"BITCH!" And with that the chase was on.
Kalibak couldn't fly, that or he didn't know how, but he could run and jump far enough to make it look like he flew until he fell back to the ground. Komand'r had to keep a slow, steady flight (relatively speaking) to make him chase her, while also forcing herself to not turn around and charge at him.
Then, after thinking he tired himself out enough, we opened a portal right in front of him leading to an arena (any other word for it wouldn't cut it) of our choosing: the ruins of Tamaran's capital. It was fitting that the one who tried to destroy Tamaran would meet his end in the very first place he attacked
Imagine his shock when he saw John, Mecha, Ayame, Pausanias, Kara and Patrick around him, with Komand'r glowering from above. With them he'd thought he could escape. As for why me, Rachel, Clark and Grundy wouldn't participate fight, several reasons: not wanting to give him dignity, make him feel inferior for refusing to even touch him, test how they fared against an opponent like him even in his state… and give him false hope that he could get out of there alive. Which was the whole point.
He could have taken on each of us one on one, but not all of us at the same time, much less with us heavy hitters and him focusing on fleeing rather than fighting. I will spare you the details of the fight, but despite his viciousness and strength, and even though none of them came out unscathed, Kalibak ended up not merely defeated, but broken, literally, as you will find soon enough.
Which still wasn't enough for Komand'r. She wanted him to suffer a slow, painful death, to suffer as others had suffered at his hands, and it was clear that the others shared the sentiment.
"We really want to kill you, we really do." John muttered as he glared at the downed alien. The way he hefted his hammer made clear he had to stop himself to smash Kalibak's head to a bloody pulp.
"Yeah, you have to die, man." Mecha agreed.
"Why… don't you finish me off, then?"
"Because you are not ours to kill." Ayame replied before Komand'r stepped in front of him, carrying Pausanias' sword. It could only petrify living creatures when wielded by its owners, but anyone could use as a mundane sword, if you could consider a nearly unbreakable kopis forged by Hephaestus himself mundane. Kalibak, anger turned to terror, tried to stand up, but he couldn't. That was because Komand'r had cut them off first.
"My… my legs!" He all but cried when he looked at the bloody stumps.
Komand'r promptly kicked him in the mouth to shut him up. "How many legs have you cut off, you bastard?"
Pained and with blood coming from his mouth, Kalibak could only mewl in pain.
"Hold him up, please." Komand'r growled. John and Pausanias grabbed Kalibak and hefted him, the brute too weak and scared to do anything but moan as
I saw Clark's jaw tighten and his eyes narrowing, and so did Patrick.
"Chickening up, Big Blue?"
"No, just thinking if I should do the deed myself." At that Patrick, genuinely shocked given his wide eyes. "I just… I don't know, want to make sure he'll stay dead." Despite his words, however, it was clear he was still uncomfortable being witness to an execution, if of someone who thoroughly deserved it and who he had helped putting in that state.
"Many things can still move after being decapitated. Kalibak isn't one of them."
Clark sighed. "Still. And after this, what do we do next? Darkseid might not love him, but he's still his son."
"What shall happen shall happen, but Kalibak cannot be allowed to live to see it, and if Darkseid really cared he would have done something by now."
Unfortunately, he did.
We turned back to the improptu execution, right as Komand'r finished listing everything Kalibak had done to her people, that he didn't deserve to be killed so quickly. One single cut to the neck, a quick movement of her hand, and Kalibak would be no more.
The key word being 'would', because several giant green hands appeared literally out of nowhere to punch John and Pausanias away of Kalibak, and another one to grab him just before Komand'r could cut his head off.
"This fight is over."
I did NOT expect THEM to come, at all.
A squadron of some twenty odd aliens drapped in black fatigues with green, glowing parts, led by a human I did not expect to meet, directing the angriest sneer a mortal could muster at me.
John motherfucking Stewart.
Patrick described it the best.
"Well, now THIS is what I call an unexpected turn of events!"
Kalibak get's a Deus Ex Machina… except not really, because next chapter, a flashback episode, will explain why did John come to a planet outside the Corps' jurisdiction, why and how did he arrive, and more,.
In Darkest Night...
Oa, headquarters of the Green Lantern Corps, what many thought was the epitome of justice and law, and in a way, it was, doing their best to maintain peace among the stars and fight evil whenever and wherever it reared its ugly head.
An afro-american man in his mid-thirties walking through the Relaxation Garden would disagree in a point.
He was John Stewart, former staff sergeant of the U.S.M.C and the first native of Sector 2814, or 'Sol', to join the Corps, a non-sense enforcer of the peace whose sense of duty hadn't shriveled after leaving his home. Or, in simpler terms he was happy to acknowledge, a hardass.
Naturally, that hardassness was the reason he and Katma Tui began their relationship, for she too was a former military with a knack for toughness. Unfortunately, and the fact he was dating his tutor during training, was not seen kindly by many in the Corps, and thus they ended up breaking. That very same day.
Hal Jordan and Kyle Rayner, two more recent enrolled humans, were not supposed to follow his orders now that they had completed their training, but due to his age, skill and the fact he had been part of the Corps for nearly ten years before either came, they preferred to follow his lead, as did a few others, even those who had been there just as long as he had, maybe longer. If only they knew…
The destrution of Olinda still ate him from the inside. How could have the known the Rings had the power to destroy a whole world? Just… how? And why hadn't the Guardians found it out, or anyone else for that matter? He should had told them, should have given up the ring, should just kill himself to spare them the trial, and a lot more 'should' crossed his mind. He knew he needed help, but he refused to see the therapist, out of shame and because, as a psychic, he would find out. And then Apokolips attacked and occupied Earth. With fucking Superman at the head. The Guardians forbidding him and the others to intervene
So deep was John in his self-loathing and doubt that he didn't hear a certain noc'sagian calling for him until he landed in front of him. John faced an annoyed Galius Zed.
"Zed?"
"Stewart, is Rayner."
John grunted. "What did he do?" Even though he had been part of the Corps for well over two years, it was as if Kyle wanted to be that 'perpetual rookie' cliché given flesh, if only in attitude and not actual performance. Didn't mean John liked it, but he got the others to laugh and lighten up.
"You might want to see this."
"What is it this time? A new car? The Berlin Wall's Fall coming late again?" Sometimes STL messages and retransmissions came to Oa, very late ones. He knew Galius didn't particularly care about Earth's affairs, and many other Lanterns for that matter, but he nonetheless was a trusted colleague, if not enough to consider him a friend, and thus trusted his word.
"Apparently your world really is a magnet for superpowered individuals."
John raised an eyebrow. Another kryptonian?
Unlike John or Hal, Kyle was more involved in the affairs of Sol, if only by getting news from his family. How and why he managed to do that, John didn't know, and frankly, he didn't care, since it allowed him to have a connection, however faint, to Earth thanks to a holo-projector he had nabbed from a tyrant in Sector 4359.
"Don't tell me is some stupid 'technological advancement' bullshit." John asked after reuniting with Kyle and a few other Lanterns, who were also interested in what was happening on Earth During the early days, Kyle thought John didn't know about the progress Earth in general had gone through, thinking him a man with only knowledge of the eighties and not the modern day. Aside from the fact that ten years was not that long, he forgot John had gone back to Earth five times before Kyle even knew they existed.
"Well, CCTV's gotten better, and it's kinda related, but no." With that he turned the projector on.
The screen depicted… a room, an empty one at that.
"Who in the Seven Hells is that?"
The 'who' he was talking about was a large, armored figure. The armor didn't cover all of his body, since his arms were bre to the world, and he had a blade connected to his right gauntlet, but the tense way he marched towards the moaning perp and the way his armor looked screamed military to John.
"Doom Slayer's, Earth's newest hero. Apparently he's a soldier from another universe."
Kilowog's (and by extension, everyone else's) reaction was understandable. "What."
Kyle just shrugged. "He said it himself. May be lying, may be not, but he lives in a medieval castle on Mars and moves around through portals, and there are pictures of the castle, so I'm inclining on the latter."
The last time an interdimensional being had appeared, things hadn't ended well for the involved parties, to say the least. John himself had the misfortune of meeting such an entity before, but fortunately it turned out to be a lost animal from a lesser dimension.
"He also tends to kill. Hasn't done it much, but he has."
"The kryptonian tolerates that? Wasn't he supposed to abide by a no-killing belief?"
"Does he look like a maniac?" Kyle asked rethorically. "And I think it only applies to himself, not others."
"You tell me, you three are the only humans we know of." Galius took a closer look. "If he's human and not a humanoid or an android."
Busy as they were arguing, none of them, except John, paid attention to the screen as the man, Doom Slayer, gave a speech to the… criminal? Terrorist? What had he done, really?, about reaping what you have sown, before grabbing him by the head.
John thought he'd shoot the man or something, or gut him, or punch simply kill him or wound him, something simple.
Instead, Doom Slayer grabbed the man by a leg, pulled… and the man was literally torn in half, his intestines hanging from the upper half, a pool of blood and viscerae forming beneath him. The worst, though, had to be the shriek of agony the victim uttered… at least before the giant crumpled his head like an egg.
"Holy shit…"
Many screamed or gagged at the dantesque sight from across several million light years away.
John's eyes merely widened, but from a man like him, it was enough.
He had seen just as bad, if not worse, he had fought in Iraq and seen the effects of heavy ordnance of the human body, an unlucky corpsman finding out the hard way that medics were fair targets, feral beasts and monsters maul people and eating them alive… but this… seeing a man, a human man doing it… if, of course, he was human under that skin.
"When is this from."
"Earlier this month, more given the range. He's been in the spotlight since he stopped a robber in Metropolis."
"Well, when you think about it, it was a matter of time someone decided to just off certain criminals." Hal said after the recording ended. "Not all are rehabilitable."
"He tore a man. In half. Does that speak calm, reasonable, or even stable to you?" John rebuked.
"That guy he just killed could be a pedophile, could be a mass murderer, could be anything! Look, we may not have the full context for this, but Doom Slayer only does that to guys who'd otherwise get the gas or the chair, not common crooks!"
"We only have images and words for that, and both can lie."
Before things could escalate, Kilowog intervened. "You could ask the Guardians to allow to go to Sol, to check on him."
That was not enough for John, and not only because of regulations, schedule and shame, but then, Doom Slayer hadn't done anything that would paint him as a gun-toting madman, just another do-well who simply happened to take justice in his hands and killed his targets depending on their actions, all them being deserving of capital punishment otherwise.
He did not like it.
Alas, the Guardians predictably told the earthlings than a murderous, if stable metahuman was not worth their (both the Guardians themselves and the three) time even if he was from another dimension, that the galaxy was bigger than just their sector home, much less a single planet, although they still assured them they would investigate if Doom Slayer really was from another universe.
Then again, they didn't do anything when Darkseid attacked, John thought ruefully. Still, it was not in his hands.
But then the man, Doom Slayer, did it again. And again. And again… And with every kill, killing progressively stronger targets, it became clear that he wasn't just strong enough to tear a man apart, but something else, something most beings of Earth wouldn't be able to fight. The idea of someone so powerful yet so willing to kill did not sit well with John, even though he knew it was irrational paranoia (at least after figuring out what kind of man Doom Slayer was) and used to the admittedly flawed and unrealistic outlook of incredibly powerful beings divided being good and evil, even though the universe, by and large, was not like that. Despite his increasing reservations, though, John supposed he wouldn't have to do anything. After all, the 'future space soldier', strong as he was, couldn't be able of taking on a kryptonian and several powerful metahumans even on on one, right? Besides, with time Doom Slayer proved he wasn't just a fighter: repairing dams with Superman, reuniting families…. He even managed to rehabilitate the most dangerous of Arkham's inmates, with the exception of a certain clown John wouldn't actually mind being turned into bloody confetti.
And then one day, things changed.
An old man, entirely human-looking except from his orange hair and green eyes, had been found in the middle of space onboard a small FTL ship. A quick inspection made clear he wasn't from Earth… and that, for all intents and purposes, he should dead: left arm and right leg ripped out (not cut or severed, outright torn by something), nearly all of his bones broken, a deflated lung, bruised heart, no kidneys, severe concussions, barely enough blood
A surprise, given that his species was only a stone throw away from matching Superman's in sheer destructive capacity, and unlike them they numbered in the millions.
"A tamaranean."
John frowned. He knew of the bad blood between the Corps and Tamaran, of what the Manhunters had done to them during their rampage a millenium prior,
None of them expected the old man to wake up screaming from his bed, force his way out of the hospital with surprising ferocity for someone with such injuries, and fly away, all the while alternating between screaming and laughing. John was the first one to recover from the shock and fly after him, managing to catch up, but even with the ring and the man's injuries, he was unable to inmobilize the elder.
"Easy, sir, I just want to help!"
The man, however, just laughed. For some reason, his laugh reminded him of that clown's. He heard it only once before, again in a recording from Rayner, basically a reduced documentary about Gotham's criminal underworld. Again, it was just a recording of Joker laughing.
It still made his skin crawl.
And yet, the tears in the alien male's eyes made clear his cackle, his insanity, was born out of agony.
"Help?! HELP?!"
And then, to John's horror and shock, the tamaranean plunged his hands into his belly and ripped his own guts before the Lantern could do anything.
"Kalibak… invade… kill…"
With that the tamaranean gave his last breath and died, just as the healers reached them.
Had any of them being psychics, or at the very least not comforting John, they'd seen a strange, red aura emanate from the corpse and enter John's head through his eyes, but as it was, no one realized what happened.
The man's arrival prompted the Guardians to send a satellite to Tamaran's sector to see what the hell was going on there. They didn't show them images, but their words were enough: Apokolips had invaded yet another planet, this time by way of a ship instead of the world itself. The head of the operation? Kalibak himself. Apparently the last invasion had made him decide that being a conqueror would earn him his father's approval. Not that the Corps cared, for the old tamaranean's suicide made clear it wasn't the bastard wa. The fact each tamaranean was strong enough to hurl a LAV like a tennis ball and outfly most jets yet were unable to fight the invaders off implied several things about Kalibak, things no one liked.
"And we're supposed to do nothing?!" Hal all but screamed after the Guardians told them their new orders: ignore Tamaran's plight.
"After what the Peacekeepers did to them?" 'Peacekeeper' was how a few GLs called Manhunters, for one reason of the other, but mostly out of politeness, which as far as John cared the robots didn't deserve. "We're lucky they're xenophobic isolationists instead of fanatic purifiers hellbent on exterminating all intelligent life out of fear of it happening again."
"C'mon, it cannot have been that bad."
"Kyle, a thousand years ago Tamaran was a spacefaring culture with a population of several billion. When the Peacekeepers were defeated, they numbered less than a million. Again, that was just a millenium ago.
"Kilowog, they're being exterminated."
But Kilowog shook his head sadly. "If we want to help, we'll have to do it without involving the Corps."
The lack of action from part of the Guardians angered many Lanterns, not only because of principle but also because Tamaran was less than a kiloparsec away from Oa itself. Allowing Apokolips to take such a foothold to their headquarters was practically asking for a surprise attack! And yet, their leaders refused to intervene.
Robots, hundreds, maybe even thousands of them, coming out of vortexes and annihilating parademons with surprisingly destructive slugthrowers.
"What idiot uses such primitive weapons?"
"I've been hit with blasters that did nothing but scorch my shirt, and bullets that would'd killed me. Primitive and useless aren't synonymes, you know."
After the robots came half of the Justice League itself, Doom Slayer included plus a black-haired, pissed off tamaranean. Suddenly, the somewhat even fight between apokoliptians and robots became a losing battle for the former
"Oh, well, good for them, then." Hal said with a shrug, mirrored with relief by many others. If Superman and his allies wanted to take the fight to Darkseid himself, the Green Lantern Corps would be happy to help, but until then…
John, however, didn't see it that way.
For John, the thought of Doom Slayer going to another planet, to cause death and destruction, turning people he looked up to into killers, the fact he had a fucking robot army all this time… And that old man's death… He didn't care if Doom Slayer had nothing to do with it, his mind couldn't take it any more. It broke the camel's back.
He snapped.
Kyle, Hal and Kilowog did not realize this until John, followed by twenty similarly-minded Lanterns who did not like someone spitting on their tenets so close to base, assembled in a teleporter dome. A ring could take its wearer across the galaxy in a matter of hours, but the dome was instantaneous.
"John, the Guardians said no!" Kilowog shouted as he bashed at the hardlight dome, to no avail.
"And this is Apokolips we're talking about! You could start a war with Apolokips, for God's sake!" The hypocresy of some people.
"And he hasn't?! He's killing Kalibak, for fuck's sake!"
"All the more reason to do nothing! One less apokoliptian in the universe is nothing but good news for the universe, and don't tell me I'm wrong!"
Had any of them, any, been close enough, they'd seen that John's usually green-coloured pupils had acquired a darker, reddish tint.
"I'm not going to wriggle my hands and do nothing while that motherfucker kills more people."
Hal and Kyle looked at each other, bewildered and confused by what he had said. Sure, the Corps was forbidden from taking lives unless it was strictly necessary… and only them. "And what happens when he resists? Because you and I know he will."
John merely raised his right hand, the ring activated, and before the dome sent them away…
"He'll wish he stayed in his universe."
No, John hasn't gone THAT 'no one kills' obsessed, he's being used, although methinks I should had expanded a lil' more. Also, is my reasoning for the Guardians of the Universe not doing anything about an interdimensional supersoldier arriving to theirs for the better part of a year? As for the cliffhanger ending, Kyle and Hal DO try to stop them from leaving and causing a clusterfuck, but they leave and choose damage control over a futile chase.
I-Like-Trains said:
Oh the Space Police arrives AFTER the Baddies are slain, so that they can't hurt more Tamaran or other People… to save the Bad guy because… Daddy Darkside would be a little bit angry that one of his died so easily and goes to the blue Midgets - "If he dies, 2 other Races get invaded! Now go and fetch me my child… and some coffee!"
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GrandlineBS said:
Im waiting for doom slayer to call them all out, on their inaction their hypocrisy. Then mock their very oath
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Shepard131 said:
And then unloads his godly shotgun right into Kalibaks head as a fuck you.
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Raphaim said:
Larfleeze ain't gonna be happy
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swisspda said:
i can see the slayer doing this as he's mocking their oaths and hypocracy… also this fic is good
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It's more of a case of a rational if wary bunch led by an also rational guy who had the bad luck of being chosen.
Larfleeze is going to take a good look at what's happening, consider his choices, and GTFO.
PsyckoSama said:
The funny fact is Blackfire might not be able to actually kill him. He's a Dark God and is in many ways beyond the physical.
The Doom Slayer on the otherhand is a God.
He is the Beast.
He is the Hellwalker.
He is the Scourge of Hell
He is the Unchained Predator.
He is Rage.
He is Vengeance.
He is DEATH.
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He's not dying yet, and the SI will of course have a hand in his death, but I want Blackfire to give the deathblow… with the help of Patrick
Redler_M_Schnyder77 said:
So the Green Lantern Corps ruins the moment here.
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Barbaric Bob said:
fucking space cops have been bought by Darkseid!
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It's actually worse than that.
Uzumaki Sito said:
Clark might not win against darkseid by himself, but brooo…. This is the Doom Slayer we are talking about.
You started this story with him killing Gods.
And now you say he can't fight against Darkseid? Even with Superman's help?????
And before you even made it seem like he couldn't fight Trigon by himself.
If you wanna nerf him so badly change the begging.
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It's less facing Darkseid and losing, and more facing Darkseid and forcing HIM to do something unexpected and fucking dangerous out of the blue when realizing this Primaris expy is even stronger than he looks. Remember, he's the most powerful being in HIS univese. He can do anything out of desperation or spite, and DS doesn't want to risk that happening, not yet. As for Trigon, he's not the only thing living in Hell, just amongst the strongest, and if this Hell finds out just how powerful that god of war is they'll gang up on him. He'll be fine, of course, but he doesn't want Hell on Earth to happen AGAIN, even with the Justice League.
[email protected] said:
Doom Slayer's reaction to the Sissy B@tch of Will squad: "I'm sorry, your home world must be Cavemen Coward. Let me translate for you. Me. Doom Slayer. He. Murderer. You. Moron. Savvy?"
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Jealousfailure said:
I'm legitimately surprised Darkseid did anything for kalibak, guess it's not necessarily that he cares for him(being the last thing of his wife he actually loved) but more so what it would look like for a son of Darkseid to die in such a way.
Pretty sure the tamaraians are going to be displeased with the green lanterns, not only do they have bad blood due to previous alien races doing things that the GLs either ignored or didn't catch. And now they show up after all the torture and genocide to stop their queen from executing their tormentor? Yeah I wouldn't be thrilled either
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They're not really in any positon to do anything, but yeah, they'll be a taaad miffed the creators of the Manhunters dare not only to come back to their planet, but AFTER the worst thing to happen to them since their robots fucked them up. Again, though, John isn't sound, and the others are just following. As for Darkseid, he actually doesn't; it's simply a case of going big, or going extinct, a last attempt to make his blood worthy of some approval.
He'll get a massive disappointment, but he already knew it'd happen.
In Brightest Day...
Pausanias was the first to recover from the shock of twenty green-clad aliens led by a human interrupting our improptu execution and ordering us to stop it. His was also the proper response to it.
"The hell it is you green mother…" He growled.
Pulling out his halberd, he ran at the downed and stunned Kalibak, intending to finish the job, symbolism be damned, but John grabbed him with a giant hand and threw him away as far, and fast, as he could.
"Pausanias!" Ayame screamed before rushing towards the direction Pausanias was sent flying. Mecha, however, probably realizing we'd need the extra firepower.
"Oh, crud."
"Anyone else moves or even breathes the wrong way, they're getting far worse than a giant fist." John all but growled, his gaze centered on me.
Komand'r, naturally, did not take to the arrival of the Corps kindly, no least because they had unwittingly saved Kalibak. Rachel even had to stop her from ramming into John. "You bastards dare to come to our home?! NOW?!"
Kalibak, realizing he wasn't dead yet, tried to crawl away, but Steel, ignoring Stewart's threat, ran up to him and stomped on his back. "You aren't going anywhere, you fucker!"
The Lanterns reacted by generatic arms. "Stay away from the New God!"
"Make me!" John shouted as he raised his hammer.
As much as I hated seeing Komand'r being denied her revenge, I had questions, questions that wouldn't receive answers if a brawl broke out so soon.
"Steel, do as they say."
John looked at me with incredulous eyes. "What?"
Komand'r didn't believe it either. "What the hell are you saying?!"
"Just do as they say… for now."
Steel looked between me, Kalibak and Stewart, his face-like plate frozen as he considered simply killing a frantically breathing Kalibak then and there, before grunting and stepping off of him. Komand'r was another matter: Rachel had to restrain her as she cursed and screamed obscenities at both the newcomers and me.
"Who are these bozos again?" I heard Patrick whisper outloud. "Green Loonterns or something? Wasn't paying that much attention."
"They're the Green Lantern Corps." Clark explained. "Basically Jedi, except with rings instead of the Force, and cops instead of monks. I don't know who he is, though, I only know of two humans in the Corps."
Realization hit Patrick like a truck.
"A Jedi… A space cop? Mister, I don't know what happened…" He jumped away from us, hands turned into oversized arrows. "But it's entirely THEIR fault, not mine! Take them, not me, I'm only an accomplice!"
"Plastic!"
"He's a crazy space cop!" Patrick cried. "I can't escape from space prison! I need oxygen and food and entertainment!" The actual reason for his freakout was much more serious, but only I knew about it.
Naturally, John ignored him and focused on me. "Step away from him." It wasn't clear if he spoke about Komand'r and Kalibak, or everyone and me. There was also the fact I was not the closest to Kalibak. That made me think, and as it always happens, me thinking tends to end up badly for whoever made me think.
The problem was that I couldn't just kill him, and not only because in this case it'd be an excessive reaction: unknown to everyone at the moment, his brain had been tampered with.
"Why are you here, Stewart?"
"Why the hell do you think we've come halfway through the galaxy to a planet we have no jurisdiction over and which hates us? Sell cookies?"
"To make you hate you more by being hypocrites?" Grundy asked before smacking his fist together. "We know your history, you ain't supposed to be here. Now scram before it gets ugly." He couldn't control the plants there, but he still was one of the strongest in the group.
"You don't get to talk, abomination." One of the Lanterns replied.
"Don't tempt me, dogboy."
"You can go back to Earth if you want, but he" He pointed at me.", is coming with us back to Oa."
Clark, always the mediator, put himself between us, more specifically me, and the Lanterns. "Look, I don't know why or what has made you decide to in Slayer, but this is something that has to happen."
"He's corrupted you, did he?" He gave Clark a critical look. "Or have you realized that sometimes you have to do what you have to do?"
"Doom Slayer hasn't corrupted anyone, and Kalibak has done things, things that have made me accept the fact he has to die."
But John did not see it that way, namely because it wasn't the reason they were there; it was just bad timing from his part. "I don't give a damn about the Worf wannabe, he and his bastard of a father invaded Earth." He pointed at me. "But Starship Trooper has to answer to the Guardians."
"Then why, pray tell, did you stop us from finish off this monster?" Rachel asked, her anger thinly veiled.
"You'll piss off someone who can destroy whole worlds with one snap of his fingers, someone we'd rather not fight." A Lantern explained. He couldn't really do that (crack planets with a snap. He could do it the old fashioned way just fine), but the Corps didn't have all that much information about him, or Apokolips for that matter.
"Darkseid has no love for Kalibak."
"You don't know that. We don't know that." He pointed at a moaning Kalibak. "Hell, not even the brute knows that. Better to be safe than sorry when it comes to Apokolips."
"Then where were YOU when Apokolips invaded Earth?" Mecha threw back at him, clearly wanting to force a reaction out of John. He did get one, alright, in the form of a giant sledgehammer. The only reason he didn't end as a stapler was Clark grabbing it.
"Shut your mouth, robot, if you want to keep it."
"You don't have to do this! We don't have to do this!" Clark tried to cool the situation, but it was becoming increasingly clear that John wouldn't be disuaded, especially since I could feel something was off about him, some kind of aura, but it was something that VEGA couldn't scan or pinpoint the origin of. That actually worried me.
As much as I admired Clark's pacifism and mediatory attitude, I knew this couldn't be talked out. The the laser-focused frown John had on me made sure of that. So, I moved Clark out of the way to face the former marine directly. I noted that his eyes had a reddish tint over the usual green. Something was wrong with him.
"Why for. Why do you want to arrest me." I was pretty sure he didn't simply want to shove me into a cell and throw the key away.
"Invading a planet and attempted execution of a surrendering combatant."
John, our John, said it best. "Freaking what?"
"And you do it AFTER this guy invaded first?" Mecha pointed at Kalibak. "I mean, you're not supposed to be here, but still, uncool."
"I know what you can do, I've seen what you can do, you and your Frankenstein friend. Seeing army of Terminators and getting fucking Superman of all people to agree to this was the last straw."
"Wait, seeing?"
"The invasion was enough for the Guardians to send a probe to monitorize it."
This only served to piss Komand'r even more. "You knew all this time, yet you did nothing?!" Jurisdiction or not, one would think that one of Apokolips' most ardent enemies would try to do something beyond watching events unfold, especially since later it turned out Tamaran was quite close to Oa itself. Admittedly, it was more the fault of the Guardians than the Lanterns proper, but still.
I knew enough of John (hardass, stuck to the rules, honest, and more), and the thing around him finally made me realize at that moment that something was very, very wrong with him.
"He may not have anything to do with Apokolips, but the fact he's not even from this universe is enough to question him." Another of the Lanterns pointed out. "He's been here for well over a year now, a man with a portal generator, a droid army and powerful enough to match a fully energized kryptonian. Don't we have the right to at least feel suspicion for him?"
"Now wait a minute, it's not-" Clark began to say before I stopped him.
"And you know who I do that to only. Like Kalibak and his ilk."
John didn't care. "And what happens after you kill them? Do you stop, or do you continue?"
That attitude, that temper of his reminded me too much of Bruce, except he was open about it, and unlike Batman he had the capacity to actually harm me, if only to a point. Close as we were to each other, it finally dawned on his platoon that I was the second largest person on the area.
"Ok, I have to admit it, he's a big one."
"The instructor is bigger."
"The instructor is a bolovaxian. This guy is human."
However, even though I had a over a foot and three hundred pounds on him, he wasn't intimidated. As a matter of fact, I think he got even angrier.
"You know I'm not going to get myself arrested for such stupid reasons, by someone who really shouldn't be here."
He merely raised his right hand, clenched into a fist and ring glowing. Soon, his body was covered by a green barrier, for he knew what would happen if I even nicked his shoulder. "I was counting on that."
For what seemed to be an eternity, both former marines stared one at another, waiting for the other to act. Didn't mean I couldn't talk to him, partly to maybe get him to stand down, partly out of genuine interest, partly to distract him, maybe get the first blow.
"I used to be a marine myself, you know."
"What the fuck is he doing?" I heard Steel say.
Imagine their surprise when John actually replied. "I find that… believable. Division?"
"United States Space Marine Corps. Different dimensions, different corps."
"What happened to them."
"Wiped out by the interdimensional invaders. I'm not the last one, but I will never see them again."
His gaze softened, but then it hardened again.
At least I could say I tried.
He threw the first punch. I blocked it. Steel threw his hammer at someone just as Grundy roared. The fight was on.
They outnumbered us nearly two to one, and they were all experienced Lanterns, but each of us was more than a match. But I wasn't paying attention to them, busy as I was having an improptu duel with John.
I will to admit that out of the fights I had been in since I arrived here (and not counting my brawl with Grundy), John ended up being indeed the first proper one. His barriers were tough enough to withstand most of my arsenal to a degree (I had yet to use my heavier weapons), and every time they broke through, he just raised more; conversely, he had an entire repertoire of guns and vehicles to use against me. While his attacks didn't actually hurt me, they pushed me backwards each time they hit; not a good prospect for someone like me. Admittedly me not wanting to cause him any kind of permanent damage played a part, but still, it was proof of why a single Lantern was enough to keep the peace in an entire system by themselves most of the time, and unlike a good chunk of them John had a military background. His will too was a problem; while it didn't make him stronger per se, it wouldn't allow him to stand down, no matter how many times I forced him.
But the worst had to be his speed. While nowhere as fast as Clark, he was still easily faster than anyone else I had fought in this universe while still being relatively tough, and he had the reflexes to match. I'm also a bit ashamed to admit I was kind of rusty after not fighting opponents strong enough to push me back, the last one being Grundy himself.
Add those to the fact I didn't want to kill him, but he DID, and I you'll get a fight of epic proportions. In fact, I had to take us away from the others as to not acccidentally kill the more fragile ones.
"Giving up already?" I heard him shout as he tried to pin me down in a Harrier, rockets and shells pushing me into the ground. His determination was admirable, I'll admit it, but he was also pissing me off.
Fortunately, Rachel had followed us.
John found his projected plane destroyed by bolts of black lightning, then himself grabbed and slammed against the ground by a familiar black aura. After making sure he wasn't going to escape, Rachel flew down to my side, keeping John still.
"Let me go of me, now!" He shouted.
"Will that hold?" As powerful as Rachel was, her magic had limits. Admittedly these were self-imposed ones she had as to not accidentally unleash all of it, but still.
"Long enough for me to properly see what's wrong with him." Rachel stood next to me, eyes not deviating from John. "Slayer, he's being manipulated. He fears what you can and could do, and something has increased that fear to the point he decided to act."
"Tell me something I don't know. Is it another Lantern?" If a Lantern's main emotion didn't match that of their ring, it simply wouldn't work, and John was still clearly a Green, but everything was possible. Couldn't be Atrocitus, Red Lanterns were more in the line of Ghost Rider; if anything, he'd try to kill Kalibak for his crimes. Couldn't be Parallax either, despite his fear of what I could do. The Yellow Lantern was based on inspiring normal terror and horror on others, not the users themselves, and even then, the fear that fueled John was different.
"I don't really know much about the Emotional Spectrum, but no. Whatever it is, it's fully magical in nature." She then frowned. "Magic I think I know the source of."
Figures. If only had we known from the beginning what kind of magic was messing with his brain…
"And the others?"
"If you mean the League, they're doing just fine. As for the Lanterns, they're not being manipulated, but fear of the unknown is quite the motivator. They're also pretty damn good for space cops."
"Manipulated by what?"
She pursed her lips. " If VEGA hasn't told you… Something's hiding in the ring, but I can't know what unless I touch it." She looked at me with a meaningful gaze. "That's going to take a while. And to be safe, the ring has to stay on his finger."
Didn't need to hear the rest: I'll had to restrain John while she forced whatever was inside his ring out.
The moment Rachel released John, I rammed into him, careful to not kill him but still with enough force to force the air out of his lungs. You could say that the fight was over the moment I grabbed him with enough force to bruise his ribs, breaking his focus. The easy part proper was over; it was now Rachel's turn.
"You sonuva… !"
Once more, Rachel conjurated a sphere of energy that surrounded John, took him from my hold, and lifted him into the air as he screamed, her magic permeating through him.
Except this time, it wasn't black.
Yellow, the Green's opposite spectrum, and the most effective way to disable a Green Lantern's ring; it didn't even have to come from a Yellow ring. It baffled me that something as simple as a color could counter something so powerful, but again, this was still DC.
"Azarath… Methrion… Zinthos." Rachel's eyes opened and she all but roared. "STEP INTO THE LIGHT!"
John's screams of anguish were muffled by the screeching of something seeping out of his ring, something Rachel caught the moment it was fully out.
It was a shadowy, red-colored thing, not formless yet not resembling any living creature either, but then, it was nothing more than a construct of the arcane, a weapon.
Not a demon per se, but definitely evil.
John, on the ground and panting, looked up to see what he thought had to be a demon from Hell itself hovering over him.
"What the hell is that?" His eyes then widened, as if struck by something. "What the hell did it do to me?"
"That, is the reason you were so unhinged." Rachel said as the thing screeched and struggled to escape, to no avail.
"Can you capture it in a bottle or something like that, keep it under control?" I asked her. Either of us would had killed it without a second, but aside from wanting to
"What for?"
"Because when the Guardians call him for trial for breaking the code, seeing the cause might soften the punishment, if they don't discharge him or worse."
John looked at the ground, half confused, half horrified by everything, his mind fully cleared. "Shit. I thought that… I didn't…"
"You better come with us and tell your friends to stand down."
And so we moved back to the main battle, with a silent John pondering on the fact he had been a pawn… and that his actions had metaphorically killed him.
Sorry for those who wanted Parallax. Don't worry, though, we'll get to see Sinestro in the future. Also, the SI is strong as fuck, but since a Green Lantern can take on Superman and, while not win per se, last a good tad longer than most… Besides, John still lost. And yes, the ending is kinda rushed.
TictacYT said:
Hm, so many lanterns not being able to pick subtle signs when they are watching said person is kinda weird. Would have thought Oa had some failsafes for these kind of situations
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These Guardians don't. I mean, they created the Mancatchers and only caught up to what they could do after they did that, didn't they?
Menthewarp said:
He should have failed to activate his green power ring if he's channeling that much red.
You have to channel the appropriate emotion to use the appropriate ring.
Losing focus on the emotion means that your ring starts shutting off features since the "green light user" is missing.
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John wasn't raging like a Red. He simply couldn't contain his fear and anger of Doom Slayer doing (from his point of view) whatever he liked. The entity disabled his better judgement and increased those feelings.
Last edited: Mar 19, 2023
No Evil Shall Escape
Komand'r couldn't contain her fury.
First, they dared, dared, to come to Tamaran at all. Second, they did it well AFTER Kalibak had his way with the planet and her people. Third, they did not come to arrest Kalibak in a stupid show of strength to save face, but to attack the man who was the sole reason (at least in her mind) for Tamaran regaining her freedom.
All that anger, all that bottled up frustration… She didn't really noticed when she 'accidentally' tore a Lantern's arm off its socket and beat her to submission with it, if having one's skeletal system grinded to dust could be called that. She'd survive anyway, so who would care?
All around her, the Justice League proved their mettle. Even outnumbered two to one, and with some of them holding back, it was becoming increasingly clear that the fight was in their favour, not the Lantern's. Be it Superman being just too fast, strong and tough, or Grundy being so overwhelming three Lanterns were ganging on him, to no avail. The rest were or less evenly matched, but with the heavy hitters requiring several Lanterns to be fought, plus the surprise return of Spartan and Wolf Princess in a near literal whirlwind of rage… The only reason they weren't winning faster was that they were liminting themeslves to cow the Lanterns to submission, not kill them.
Didn't change the fact Doom Slayer left the battle to duel Stewart with the witch in tow.
"Did they just ditch us?!" She heard Spartan shout as he locked axes with a large alien.
"Do YOU want to fight John Stewart?!"
"Why are you talking about him like he were the Grim Reaper?! He's just a man!"
The warrior had a point: why did Doom Slayer and the witch drag that shaved son of a bitch away from the fight? He led the others, but for what little she knew of the Corps, no Lantern was stronger than the other, only more skilled. Did they know something about this man, Stewart, that the others didn't? Not that she cared.
Another Lantern flew at her from behind, but Steel intercepted him, hammering at the green barrier before shouting at her.
"Stop thinking and start finish him off while we keep these fucks away!" He pointed at something at the edge of the fight.
A large-ish lump of fur dragging itself out of the brawl. Even with all that ruckus, Komand'r could hear soft whimpering coming from it.
Komand'r's eyes widened, then narrowed when she realized it was Kalibak taking advantage of the distracted warriors to crawl away from the battle. Even without his legs, even with all the damage he sustained during the fight, the bastard dared to continue living!
The sword. Somehow it had landed on its tip, and it was obvious Spartan didn't need it. Komand'r promptly grabbed it and flew after Kalibak (some Lanterns tried to grab her, but the League stopped them), who didn't get far before she slammed into him hard enough to crack the ground.
"You aren't getting away, you mongrel!" She roared at him before flipping him. She wanted her face to be the last thing he saw before going to whatever hell did apokoliptians go, probably another level of that hellish planet.
And then something kicked her in the belly with enough force to send her flying. Maybe her battle-adled mind was playing games with her… but wasn't Kalibak legless? Standing up, she watched as Kalibak's moans deepened in pitch as he moved around… and then stood up.
To Komand'rs amazement and horror, Kalibak's legs had begun growing back!
Then, Kalibak's moans turned into chuckles, then a full on maniacal laughter as he stood up on his new limbs, looking nearly unscathed. He was still covered in blood, but aside from that it looked like he hadn't fought for his life, and got mauled for it, mere minutes ago. All those cuts and bruises, the missing teeth… They were gone, or rather back. Kalibak was clearly enjoying the bewilderment of the tamaranean.
"Fool! I am a GOD, a New God!" He roared before smacking a bewildered Komand'r in the face, sending her flying. Thanks to the adrenaline pumping through her body she recovered and tried to ram into Kalibak with all the strength she could muster. "I possess powers beyond your comprenhension, powers only Supermand can overpower! I can't be killed by a mere mortal whore like you!"
Komand'r forced herself no not think about why hadn't he done that, healing, during the fight. "And yet you let a mortal beat you to near death!"
Kalibak replied by punching her in the face with enough force to cause a sonic boom and send her flying across the landscape, followed by grabbing her again and slamming her against the ground.
"If I had used my full power from the beginning, the kryptonian and that green monster would have killed me outright! By feigning weakness, I got to live to kill you!"
Komand'r, bruised as she was, glared at the apokoliptian overlord as she stood up and wiped the blood from her mouth. "That doesn't mean you're strong, only that you know you can be killed."
Kalibak growled, but then he grinned. "Yes. Many of your people thought they fit that category."
Komand'rs hands clenched into fists, but she refused to do what he wanted her to do, do what he'd do. No, she had to be smart about this. He might have been able to heal, but how much could he keep it up? So, letting go of the sword, she rose to the air and began bombarding Kalibak with energy bolts.
Had someone reminded Komand'r that Spartan's sword had been forged by another god, she'd grabbed onto it and tried to cut his head off instead of dropping it in favor of her own body, but she didn't, and thus began to grow desperate.
Bolts, then kick punching, then kicking… they all worked on Kalibak, wounding him, bleeding him. The problem was, he didn't stay down, nor wounded, whereas she was exhausting with each attack.
And then he finally managed to grab her by the head
"Your bloodline ends today, bitch! A shame I'll have to dirty my hands for it."
She tried to growl something, but Kalibak's clawed hand held her mouth tightly. However, before the New God could do anything, someting red and pink came out of nowhere with a scream and latched itself around Kalibak's head, forcing the startled Kalibak to drop Komand'r
It was that malleable human, Plastic Man. He had roped his body around an equally bewildered Kalibak, who soon entered into another rage as he tried to rip the alien off of him, to no avail.
"I'll hold him! You kill him! C'mon!"
She'd never thought the stupid-looking earthling who acted and looked like a jester, size and shape-changing capability nonwithstanding, would be capable of restraining someone like Kalibak. The monster roared and struggled, but no matter how much he tried, Plastic Man was not letting go of him.
So mesmerized she was (later it turned out she got a severe concussion), she didn't move until the man screamed at her again. "What the hell are you doing?! Kill him already! Ouch, stop biting me you Worf wannabe!"
She could kill him at that moment, but the way Plastic Man bind him, nearly completely except for a few minimal spots, meant he'd get hurt if she attacked. A voice in her head was whispering that if a New God couldn't kill him, a dinky little blade wouldn't do much… and that if he ended up as collateral damage, the League could afford one less member.
"Screw it, I'm going to choke you like a chi-" He began to shout before Kalibak suddenly stopped moving as a strange, even disgusting noise seemed to stop everything in the area.
Komand'r had heard it before, many times even, during Kalibak's early rampage: the wet sound of something going through flesh and bone with nothing to stop it.
It was Doom Slayer, with his entire left arm impaled right into Kalibak's chest, but apparently he didn't hit any vitals, for Kalibak still lived; either that, or he was indeed touger than he looked. His pale-skinned companion, Rachel, stood next to him. Far behind them, the thrice damned Green Lantern leader stood. Where cold anger and determination were, though, there was now only doubt and horror. Maybe it was because a monster out of a nightmare was screeching right next to him, a creature that seemed to be made out of fog. Too bad Komand'r no longer cared about him, for
"You can let go of him, Patrick."
"O… kay, then?" The humanoid unravelled himself from Kalibak, thoroughly horrified. "Say, can you… can you do that to, say, rubber people? I'm not being specific or anything by the way, nor talking about me either."
"I could, but you would shrug it off."
Plastic Man's expression went from uneasey to bewilderment. "Really?"
Kalibak seemed to say something, or rather tried to, but all that came from his savaged mouth was a moan accompanied by lots of blood, and even a couple of detached teeth, even though Slayer hadn't even touched his mouth. Maybe the sheer force behind the strike affected his entire body?
"He… can heal." Komand'r told them. "He feared you would kill him if he showed he could earlier."
"He won't recover from this, trust me." She then turned to Plastic Man. "Why did you go after them alone?"
"A bit busy trying to not cave those guys' heads in. As for me, well, I saw her flying away with Mr. Beast-Man here without the others noticing so, well, thought of taking the initiative for once."
Komand'r then pointed at the Lantern. "And him? What is that thing?"
"He's not going to do anything. As for the… creature, is not of your concern, but ours. It's the reason Kalibak is still breathing. Fortunately, you can fix that little tidbit."
Then, Rachel handed her something: Spartan's sword. The expression on her dark eyes and the way she looked at Kalibak made clear what she wanted her to do. And yet…
"He said he can only be killed by another god."
"This sword was forged by an earthling god. I'm fairly certain he won't shrug having his head cut off anyway."
"Why don't you slay him? You're already halfway."
Doom Slayer didn't bother to look at her when he spoke: "He's not mine to kill."
"Nor mine." Rachel continued for him. "This is your planet, yours is the people he's been tormenting. We think the right, the duty to kill him lays on you, and only you."
Komand'r looked at both of the strangers, her gaze moving from Rachel to Doom Slayer and back, before she grabbed the sword. It was time to end this
"This is for everything you've done to us." Komand'r whispered as she drew the sword back
She then screamed as she swung the blade at Kalibak's neck with all her strength, cutting through it like nothing. The head fell to the ground, blood still coming from its mouth and a terrified expression on the face, before Doom Slayer crushed it under his foot. It was over.
"Is it me, or did that seem a bit… anticlimatic?" She heard Plastic Man ask outloud. Not that she cared at that moment, standing on her knees as relief and closure coursed through her body.
She did not give a damn that the God of Tyranny himself might want to let this humillition go unpunished, that the entire Green Lantern Corps came to Tamaran in a stupid attempt to take Doom Slayer down. The monster that had been tormenting her people and world was finally no more.
Now, it was time to fix Tamaran, and after that, to find her sister. First, though, to kick the Green Lanterns off her planet.
Far away from Tamaran, in deepest reaches of space, a deity scoffed in disdain.
If the end seems anticlimatic, well, that's the whole point: when Doom Slayer stops pulling his punches, it doesn't matter if the one on the wrong end of those punches can match a fully powered kryptonian in a fistfight, they will DIE.
Patrick76 said:
Really did not like the last couple chapter
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BigToFu said:
Doom guy is never rusty so that parts not believable, but i can see the lanterns being manipulated. That happens all the time in DC and yet no one has mental defenses in place if ever. Funny thing is, even if the Guardians take his ring, John is so powerful he can will himself a new ring from his seed of willpower. All the Laterns from Earth are just that badass. They're just built differently or better, to be honest. Flexible, adaptable, stalwart, dependant, and with a can do attitude that just never quits.
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GhostMarine51 said:
Pls stop nerfing him, doomslayer is literally a universal level entity in lore. I love this but your slowly making DS not DS, idk how you'll fix it but you need to stop the direction you're going.
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I can make the SI fully embrace his nature, but then the story would have to focus mostly on everyone else because nothing sort of Darkseid or Trigon would give him a fight. Admittedly that's part of the story, but still, he can't just stomp on everyone because, unless written well enough (and I'm not confident I can), it's boring or gets boring, don't you think? Rest assured, though, I'm only doing what DC did with Superman in the cartoon, nerfing him only to increasingly making him stronger. Yes, that means there may be a 'no holding back anymore' speech from Doomguy in the future, except more laconic, if at all.
Tamaran free
It was done. Kalibak was dead.
"Are you alright?" I asked Komand'r, who was still breathing heavily (either from the effort or killing Kalibak at all, I didn't know), looking at the head. Even though only seconds had passed, it was already visibly decaying, probably a quirk in New God physiology or, more likely, untold years of abuse finally taking their toll on him now that his body couldn't keep itself healthy.
"I have a turmoil of feelings in my breast right now, and there's still lots to do" She steadied herself with a sigh. ", but I can at least say I got some closure from this."
"Ok, big space monster lion man is dead, and rock monster dad isn't going to avenge him or anything, right?" Patrick said, still not believing that he just held down said lion man for a good while. With some help and encouragement, he could do more than that, way more. For now, though, we had to tie loose ends here.
"He more or less hated him, so no, he's not going to retaliate." I looked at John. "But you did not really care for that, didn't you? It was simple, mindless fear of me broug up by that thing."
He didn't bother to reply, and not only because of the shock of his ordeal; he knew I was right.
"Ok, Worf is dead, Viggo is under control, and the other space marine has given up. Now what? Do we beat the shit out of the Power Ranger wannabes?"
"Not exactly." I turned to John, who hadn't raised his head since we arrived. "I hope you can make your men stop."
John said nothing, and in fact turned around to not even face me. That wasn't just shame in him.
"They might believe you tampered with my head. Or not. At this point, I don't know what to think.
"Let's stop the fight before someone gets hurt." No, I didn't know Komand'r pulled a woman's arm off its socket. No, I didn't care.
As we thought, the League and the Lanters were still fighting; a good chunk of the former had been knocked out, but the rest soldiered on, the iron will that got them into the Corps powering them even with their wounds. I had to admit it was an incredible sight, even admirable, and had the circumstances been better they'd made wonderful allies. The fight had gotten them tired enough for Rachel to grab all of them and force them to the ground, pulling out their rings to make sure they couldn't do anything.
"Release us!" One of them shouted before Mecha stomped on his head.
"Shut up or I kick teeth out, you caveman understand!"
"A bit late for that, don't you think Raven?" Pausanias all but complained. "Thanks for stopping them anyway."
"Better late than ever Horsehair." Grundy told him. "Still, you took your sweet time to…" He realized what that black lump a our feet was. "Nevermind."
Then, the Lanterns saw Kalibak's head staring up at them with wide, cold eyes. At this point it was little more than a reddish, goo-covered skull with some hair on it, a rather grisly sight for people not that used to violence.
"What have you done?!" One screamed, partly horrified by both the sight and what it implied for the galaxy (in his mind), partly furious because some ridiculous Green Lantern related reason.
"Get rid of a plague to the universe?" Rachel said sardonically. "Something none of you ever had the gal to?"
Komand'r said nothing, merely looking at them the way someone looked at something disgusting.
One of them opened her mouth, but I stopped her with a look. At this point Stewart was still crestfallen by everything and didn't do anything but stare at the skull.
"And before you say something stupid, no, Darkseid will NOT give a damn about his… son's, death." He'd had a stronger reaction to being called a fool by anyone.
Clark walked up at the head and looked down at it, a mixture of emotions in his face: disgust, shock, confusion, relief… "So, you killed him."
I shook my head. "I only made sure Komand'r could."
"I helped!" Patrick said with a grin. "It actually hurt a bit, those teeth of him really hurt, but I tangled him like a ball of yarn! I nearly got Kanoed too, but hey, I'm not dead!"
Clark looked back at the head before looking around, making sure nobody was looking at us, and said something I was "I hate to admit this, but I never thought I would be glad to see someone dead."
Before I continue the writing, I think I have to tell you something about Clark to understand him better, just in case: while he did not condon killing when it was avoidable, he wouldn't lift a finger to stop executions, as a certain corrupt cop he himself caught found out. In this case his attitude came, again, from a myriad of reasons, including the fact he was actually happy someone was dead, pure evil or not.
Kara obviously heard him, saw her wince at his words, but said nothing as she watched Patrick flex himself and talking about 'making Junior proud'.
"Kalibak was too dangerous to be kept alive, and what he has done would've gotten him capital punishment in every country on Earth."
Clark said nothing, merely frowning at my words. "Still, I never thought I'd get to see the death of Darkseid's son himelf. Speaking of which, are you sure he won't do anything about it? He hated him, but he was still part of his inner circle. He might not be happy that someone else did him in."
"By your own words, he cares for no one but himself."
"Things can change with time."
"Not when you're immortal obsessed with a single goal since you were born."
Clark grunted, but kept quiet.
Looking at my side, I saw Komand'r walking to Pausanias and Ayame, sword in hand.
"Your sword." She offered the sword back to him. Pausanias took it without looking away from Kalibak's head.
"I see you put it to good use." Even with his helmet covering his face, I knew he was smiling.
"If only I could activate the petrification, I'd made sure nothing would be left of him."
"Are you idiots just forgetting about our fight?!" One o the Lanterns screamed. Iron will. Again, enemies or not, I liked that.
"Well, since the reason we were fighting has already bitten the dust, I can't really see why we should keep at it." Pausanias noted. He was, of course, ignoring the hapless Lantern who Komand'r had dismembered.
"We didn't come here for-"
The Lantern, no, the entire place fell in silence, with a troubled expression but a sure step, put himself between both groups.
"Stand down. All of you." I don't remember if he realized they couldn't. "We've been deceived." He sighed. " I have been deceived."
Rachel brought out the specter.
"What in the name of the Guardians is that?!"
"A wraith born out of apokoliptian magic. It dulled Stewart's good sense and increased his anger." She then looked at the group. "But that'd would've taken a good while, and while I don't know how long did he know about us or how fast
"Why didn't his ring detect its presence?"
"Because it hid inside of it, for well over a week." Rachel said dryly. "And yet none of you realized it."
"That cannot be! A ring's wearer might be corrupted by evil, but the rings themselves cannot!" Unfortunately, that ship had sailed a long time ago, if at all.
"Either that's a lie, or your Guardians never thought of proofing your toys against Apokolips. Probably both." Pausanias all but sneered. "Then again, I don't know which is worse, being a brainwashed fuck or following said fuck to do something stupid."
"You don't have to be so mean!" Ayame exclaimed in a sarcastic tone before snarling. "Oh, wait, you can, because the fuck punched you a mile away!"
"Potty mouth, eh?" Mecha remarked, getting a hit to the back of his neck from Steel. "What was that for?!"
"Not the time." He growled, making Mecha go quiet.
Still, Pausanias was right in that it was worse for them. While John had been manipulated by an external threat they didn't even know about, they all had followed him blindly, but out of their own volition. Going against orders even when it worked out in the end was still punishable in the Corps, but doing that out of nonsensical paranoia and herd mentality… Not that most of us earthlings cared about what their fates when they returned to Oa would be, but all that said, they believed they were doing the right thing (arresting, or rather try to arrest, an incredibly powerful soldier with advanced technology and nigh endless resources from an alternate universe who cared nothing of interstellar boundaries), but they executed it badly, and at the worst possible time.
"Knowing were that thing came from is nice and all… but how did it get to Oa?" Kara asked. "I don't really know anything about how the rings work, but shouldn't your headquarters have some sort of defense against that?"
Good question with an obviou answer: no one before had ever dared to move against the Guardians of the Universe and their forces… at least directly.
And then John began to speak again.
"There was this old man, from Tamaran. He managed to escape in a pod and reach Oa before ripping his own innards." He wasn't looking at anyone in particular as he spoke. "After that I… I don't really know, felt angrier, at you, even though you hadn't done anything warranting our intervention. And it, it was before we even knew of Kalibak."
Komand'r needed a few seconds to reply. "No one but me and my sister escaped the planet. The only functioning ship in Tamaran was ours."
Given everything that happened, who and what was involved, and the time, that could only mean one thing.
"Wonderful, this is really wonderful." Grundy moaned. "Turns out the space cops have flaws of their own. And that includes one of our own." He looked at himself. "So to speak. Oh, and the evil space god that invaded Earth three years ago knows you exist."
"It could be something else, Grundy, it could be the entire Green Lantern Corps wanting me dead." Too bad it could still be, indeed, considered bad, if for admittedly not so different reasons.
He stared down at me. "Evil. Space. God." Remember, Only John and Rachel knew my origin.
"When it happens, it'll happen. No point in crying over spilled milk."
Grundy grunted at that, but shrugged. "Well, we killed his son, maybe we can do the same to him. Better be prepared for anything, no?"
Apokolips and its overlord had long known about me. Only time would tell if he planned to do anything about it, especially after proving that I was both strong and ruthless enough to gut a New God, weak as he was, like a fish.
Well, if he and his slaves wanted a fight, a fight was what he'd get if he pised me off, to hell with hiding my true capabilities. My patience was yet to run that low, but I knew that eventuall I'd have to confront him. The problem was, I really didn't want to for a plethora of reasons, chiefest of all him not being as much of a direct threat than other beings in this universe (at least in the sense they had access to Earth)
The Lanterns, despite their protests, were to leave Tamaran to never come back under pain of death. Komand'r had also dismembered one of them, but given the circumstances and the sod not dying thanks to Rachel healing her, they wisely kept quiet about it.
Whether the Guardians would discharge him and those who followed him or not was not of our concern, especially Komand'r, since his little stunt prolongued what should've been a quick, clean fight, nearly got Komand'r killed, and we had more pressing matters to attend to anyway. Still, I still remembered he was one of the founders of the League in the cartoon. I hoped they simply suspended him, but I really couldn't anything. Naturally, Clark went with them to help the best he could, despite being a journalist. Bless that heart of his.
Tamaran was finally free of Apokolips' yoke, but there would be no celebration, no victory parade. Hundreds of thousands were dead, most urban centers had been reduced to rubble by either indiscriminate bomardment or rampaging apokoliptians, and Koriand'r was still lost amongst the stars. Fortunately, the mechs were capable of rebuilding operations, and they had us to help, too: we stayed in Tamaran for a week, doing everything we could. Still, it'd take at least a generation for the planet and its people to recover, but they would. However, that still left Koriand'r.
"Tamaran thanks you for your aid." She said as she bowed to us. Our job done there done, and with no sign of Apokolips doing anything, we decided to go back to Earth. The mech army had gone back
"It's not over until Koriand'r stands next to you."
She sighed at that. "I want to believe she's still alive, but… Any idea of where she might be, or is?"
I shook my head. "Unfortunately not, but VEGA is searching for her. It'll take some time, but he'll find her.
And then, as if summoned, VEGA spoke. Unfortunately, it wasn't because he had already located Koriand'r.
"Slayer, Mr. Constantine is calling you."
That made me raise an eyebrow. John always came to the Fortress when he wanted to speak to me, thought it was faster than simple talking. That he decided to call first could only mean something had happened to him… which was exactly what happened.
"There might also be a problem with him."
"What kind of problem?"
"For starters, his signature lacks any signs of life, but still has his brainwaves."
Okay, that was not something I expected to hear. Still, only one sure way to be sure of what was going on.
"Bring him in."
VEGA opened a portal through which someone came through.
It was John… or rather, his ghost, staring back at us with wide eyes. Same jacket, same shoes, even the stench of cheap tobacco and expensive booze emanated from him, but we could see through him, and the area around him felt a bit colder. Oh, and the blue aura, can't forget the blue aura.
John had died. John Constantine was dead. And yet, he deemed it fit to go to talk to me rather than get someone to throw his body in the Lazarus Pit or con a luckless fiend. Something was off, but my mind had yet to realize that.
Grundy, eyes wide in disbelief, voiced what the others were thinking.
"The fuck happened to you?!"
"There's no time! Take the castle to Smallville, pronto!"
"Our parents?!" Kara screamed.
It turned out to be much worse than that.
John shook his head frantically. "They took him!"
Well, four year since I joined the forum, and nearly two since our SI woke up and freaked out before manning up. Wonder when I'll get listed in TV Tropes… Also, I'm concurrently writing two stories, normal crossovers and not yet that long, but still:
-Redemtion Squad: DC, Marvel and Gargoyles, in which Xanatos decides to create a pseudo-paramilitary force of metahumans recruited from jails because it's good publicity, and neither the Avengers nor the League exist here, starting with a souped up Killer Croc, from whose 1st person POV we'll read most of the story.
-Galaxy at War: Stellaris and Halo. The Covenant try to do their thing with a Stellaris federation. Needless to say, they're not the UNSC: for starters, they can attack Covenant worlds. Only three four chapters long, though.
TictacYT said:
Always a treat to read another chapter. Kinda annoying that Komandr almost died because Doomslayer left the field tho
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Didn't expect Kalibak to know about his own biology. Don't worry, it won't happen again (understimating a New God).
Monlet said:
Did they stop the fighting?? With the other lanterns
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Barbaric Bob said:
Can't fight when your ring arm is ripped out of its socket and used as a improvised blunt weapon
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Question answered: Green Lanterns have to be forced to give up.
MWKillKenny84 said:
Basically, here is the proof that Kalibak was wholly unimportant in Darkseid's eyes. As always.
Considering that his 'best' feat in this category was being petrified via magic, his stone form crumbled in dust and left the bottom of the Atlantic for five thousand-ish years, and yet still alive… I suspect you would need a personification of DEATH to do it.
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First, five words for you: I can't believe he's blood. And he already omegaed him before that, that's how little he cares.
Second, he's not THAT tough, but yeah: even if it can hurt Clark, there's no guarantee it can do the same to Plas. The guy is basically Luffy at his strongest, except even stronger… and dividible.
Reven said:
Nah for me him holding back was never the problem. Doom slayer holding back is Canon after all. It's supposedly why he uses guns at all because they hurt more. Even if it's against beings that actually have a chance of killing him. It's about causing as much pain as possible before he ends it.
No what bothers me is his lack of Will his lack of conviction. Even if it means making Enemies of allies he does what is needed. Regardless of th Obstacles regardless of the collateral.
You can't just shoot a hole into surface of mars.
Blows hole into mars.
But I get it this isn't really doom slayer this is a guy given doomslayer body and skills.
It would also explain why he is not swarmed with Greed, Red, Yellow, Pink Blue rings.
The Doomslayer Will power is uncorruptible and utterly unbreakable, His Rage without limit and unending, His abilities to cause fear legendary his mear presence's enough to shake the strongest resolves, His love for Daisy is Eternal he morns still. Finally his ability to inspire hope when all else is lost can not be questioned.
Though some could argue his compassion is great as well as he was willing to sacrifice himself when he was a normal man by closing the portal behind him and trapping himself in hell.
Though if this guy still has those traits then I suppose his armor his what is shielding him from the rings from finding him?
Honestly half expecting the rings to explode due to the sheer amount of emotion he carries.
Just a little something to hold ya to the mark as they say.
And this is something funny I found but well it's not a lie. Demons talking about doomslayer.
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This guy is still becoming more and more like THE Doom Slayer as time goes on, though. He has simply adapted to circumstances.
As for the rings, well, you can't corrupt what can corrupt you. As a matter of fact, he could realistically wear one of each ring and use it to its full potential. Yes, that includes Orange. Greed can theoretically be turned into protectiveness.
Last edited: Apr 16, 2023
Hubris (I)
Him. There was only one person in this universe John would be terrified at the prospect of being hurt, and it was NOT me.
We brought the Fortress straight to Smallville, right outside the Kent's house. Despite John's urgency, it seemed perfectly normal, at least on the outside: clean farm, animals cared for… Again, normal enough that no one bothered to check if the owners were at home.
Kara promptly flew inside even though she could see the interior, and came out with a frantic look on her face.
"They're gone!"
Patrick still didn't understand what was going on, and frankly, who could blame him? Didn't mean he had to make a reference to a fucking dog given the situation. "Who's gone? Lassie?"
Kara was torn between screaming or punching him, but fortunately chose the former. "Everyone! They took everyone!"
"Oh…"
Rachel, Grundy and me tore into the house, not caring we were ruining a couple's home, in search for the thing that mattered the most to us. Inside the house, unlike outside, there were signs of a fight, a rifle and several spent casings on the floor, broken furniture and, worst of all, blood, and fresh one. But no matter where we looked at (the basement, the attic, Clark's secondary hideout), we found nothing, NOTHING.
"He's not here." Grundy whispered, still unable to believe the truth. Neither could I, nor Rachel.
No sign from Johnathan nor Martha everywhere… nor Garfield.
Garfield. They took Garfield. They took my son.
All because in my infinite wisdom I believed it'd be safer to leave him on Earth. Fuck. FUCK!
Whoever they were, if they dared to even touch him, they would DIE.
But as much as it hurt me, that had to wait. We needed to know everything we could if we wanted to rescue him and the Kents.
"John, star talking. Now."
John began to tell us the whole story. He was in Smallville, his attention drawn by something undisclosed that could be useful for Zatanna. You'd expect someone like him to look both ways before crossing the street to avoid nasty surprises, and in fact he did. He just didn't expect the truck that killed him to hit him so had it literally tore him apart.
And yet he simply said he was ran over.
"I got ran over. I thought it was some drunkass or junkie, and besides I already had contingencies in case this happened, but something about the man, if he really was a man, wasn't right."
"In what way?" Rachel asked.
"He was fully human, acted like one too, pretty fucking happy of killing me last time I saw him… but he didn't have a soul, either that or put it someplace safe. It seemed like a coincidence at first, some old acquaitance of mine wanting payback for something, but it happening just a couple miles away from Superman's home? While you were away? Couldn't have been a coincidence. As it turned out, it wasn't. Besides, it wasn't like the sheriff could stop him, and I wanted to return the favor as quickly as possible in case he actually could."
"Didn't they try to stop him? They don't need the Supers to catch raged drivers."
"Their tires popped. No spikes or anything." That was enough to drive the point home: magic, or at least the supernatural, were involved.
"Then?"
"He drove to the house. I actually managed to arrive before him, but… I tried to warn them, I did, but this fuck… He's a strong wizard, very strong, enough to make a barrier around the farm and keep me out. I think he actually wanted me to watch as he went to the house disguised as a salesman or something, I didn't get what he looked like."
"What happened next! Tell me!" Kara asked, terrified and angry.
"Your mum'st be even smarter than she looks, because she refused to open the door even with his blabbering. Don't know why he didn't charm them, maybe their wills are strong for a couple farmers, maybe he simply can't control others. What he COULD do, though, was force his way into the house. I couldn't see anything, but I could hear. They fought back, even the kid, but then he teleported away." He grunted as he smacked his head. "I couldn't go after them, whatever magic he has is just too fucking strong! So I did the next the best thing I could."
Rachel promptly probed the area to get a whiff of the man's magic, desperate and furious. I expected her to curse Darkseid, or even her father. It was neither.
"Olympus." She growled. She had faced a couple greek-borne… things, in the past. Needless to say, they weren't around anymore, but it did make her familiar with the power of the Twelve Olympians.
We all turned to look at Pausanias; he was the resident greek, after all.
"Any idea of who could it be? Thunderman, Bitchygirl? Maybe Pretty Boy" Grundy asked.
"Grundy, you might be the condensed power of all nature, but trust me, you don't want to disrespect them. If you know the nicknames, you HAVE to know what kind of bastards they are." Except his father, his sometimes mother, Hermes and Apollo, as it turned out. "As for whom in particular, well, I can only think of one god interested in a soldier from the future strong enough to contend with alien deities." He not-so slyly looked at me while saying that. "Someone who likes seeing people kill each other, partly for power, partly because he likes it." It was obvious he did not like him.
I knew who was it. Couldn't any of the others, they weren't as interested in the mortal world, much less its wars and what caused them. "Ares."
Now that he was wearing his helmet Pericles style, I saw Pausanias frown at that. "What gate you the idea?"
"The same one you had: a violent, bloodthirsty god who interacts with mortals long after his pantheon abandoned this world."
"I don't think he wanted them, at least until probably realizing who they were the parents of."
Not only did he kidnap Garfield, he also now had leverage against Clark. Even gods wanted to have the upper hand against him, and as of then, me.
It was obvious what he wanted from Garfield, one of the reasons I nearly always kept him under the watch of someone whenever he went out of the Fortress: something to use against me. But why? Why risk my wrath? He HAD to know what I could do, since Hephaestus knew what I was just by being near him, and by extension so did the others if they bothered. Did he believe he had to put me in my place or some other godly stupidity? Or saw me as And why now? Obviously whoever his servant was (if not Ares himself) decided to act while we were away, but still.
However, I didn't care what he wanted. He took my son, he took my friend's parents. He was going to feel fear for the first time since Diomedes struck him down, only I wouldn't let him escape, no. He did something unforgivable, and thus, if he continued being a jackass, if he or whatever henchman dared to serve him even touched a hair of Garfield's head, his punishment would have to be more… severe.
I would fucking rip him to pieces, shove said pieces down his throat, and drop the remains in front of Olympus' gates, as a warning to the rest of pantheon.
And that, of course, not taking Rachel into account. By then she was all but become Garfield's new mother. Hell hath no fury like a mother enraged, and believe me. I would know.
First, though, we needed a start so Rachel could get a trace, for whoever took them was strong enough to hide any trace of his presence, down to the spiritual atom. That kind of power couldn't come from even Ares, but at that moment none of us cared.
And I knew where to look first.
Ares is, indeed, part the problem, but I'm pretty sure all of you know where I'm going. Also, sorry for the short chapter and open ending, couldn't see how to continue it. Next chapter will be from Rachel's POV, to get more development and backstory from her, like her relationship with both DS and Garfield. The kidnapping is somewhat because of her, but only somewhat.
MWKillKenny84 said:
So it is time to get a Crucible Blade?
Like I said, what happened in the "Age of Obsidian" was the highest "Survivability Feat" that I remembered for Plastic Man.
Click to expand…
Click to shrink…
Soon, my friend, soon.
AGiantB said:
Many writers here use other things to write, like Word and similar, and then once finished they copy and paste (or some other way I don't know) it to the site and post. Sometimes when you highlight stuff for copy and paste you miss things which could be why gaps like that happen occasionally
Click to expand…
Click to shrink…
Actually, I write everything here outright, that's why the weird intervals you see. Still, I do check if I leave open endings and gaps (admittedly not always, and english isn't my mother language), so either I'm even worse than I know I am, or the site has the same problems.
The horror
It was time to see Hephaestus again. Pausanias and Ayame would come with us, if only to see the family (Ayame had yet to actually meet them).
VEGA couldn't teleport us to the forge outright, so we had to go to the door. Grundy and John didn't come with us to the forge, the former because he was too big to fit through the entrance, the latter because he hadn't resurrected himself yet, something about 'testing the waters' first.
Hephaestus, understandably, did not realize this woman was the same baby he helped protect fifty years prior.
"Hello Hephaestus." Rachel said smiling. Hephaestus looked at her up and down.
Naturally, the rest of Hephaestus' sons didn't waste time in mobbing Pausanias and Ayame.
"You bastard, you never told us you have a girlfriend!" This was the first time Ayame entered the Forge, so most of them didn't even know what she looked like.
"She a wolf? Does this make you a furry, or a roman?"
"Say, do you have a sister or cousin willing to test a greek man's waters? A nice japanese girl for poor Achilles?"
"Screw that, we want nephews! When are you going to kidnap her? That's what the Spartans did, right? Or am I mixing them with mongols?"
And so on. Have in mind, despite their frat-like attitude they were all in their mid twenties at the very least, a product of being sheltered in the Forge for most of their lives. Pausanias, naturally, was quite happy of being with his family. Again naturally, Ayame was, well, overwhelmed, not only because of her senses and being in an enclosed space with lots of smoke and red-hot metal, but the fact a dozen or so men the size of her boyfriend weren't giving her space.
Fortunately, Castor, Hephaestus' oldest son, a giant of a ginger, was more mature than his brothers, his twin included. "Settle down, you dolts! They've just arrived and the first thing you do is swarm them without letting them even talk!"
"C'mon, give us a break, it's the first time women, actual women, come down here!"
"If that's so, why don't you do the same to Slayer's friend?"
"Are we blind to you?"
"So, Arella's little girl's all grown up, eh?" Hephaestus replied with a smile, before frowning. "But something tells me you haven't come here just to let me see you." If only.
"My son and Superman's parents have been kidnapped. We've yet to reach a solid reason for the bastard who did it, but frankly, we don't care."
Mellowness turned to shock, confusion and even anger. "Your son?" His gaze moved between me and Rachel. "Already?"
We shared a look. "We're not engaged, she simply lives with me. As for Garfield, he's adopted, and I'm fairly certain you know what we're going through."
Hephaestus nodded. Admittedly it was actually worse though, because all his sons were fully grown men, whereas Garfield was still a toddler, but he didn't know that.
"He's also an extension of the Red, as you know." Rachel didn't say more, there was no need to: aside from our love, whoever had him in their grasp could unlock the power of controlling all animal life, humanity included. Needless to say, that couldn't be allowed happen, least of all because they'd had to rip it from Garfield. "And who knows what he has planned for the Kents."
"Any idea of-" He began to ask before I answered him.
"Ares. I'm pretty certain no other olympians are 'interested' enough in me to risk their necks like that."
Hephaestus hummed. He didn't even bother to warn me against going after Ares, he knew how could it really end, and besides he loathed him. "He's commisioned me to make him a weapon. It's a sword, nothing more, if that's what you're wondering. You could use the chance."
"Chance for what?" I heard Ayame ask.
"To beat the loacation of Garfield and the Kents out of him."
"You know you could just go straight to him, right? That robot of yours can go anywhere."
Indeed I could, but I didn't want to have a good chunk of the olympian pantheon against me (Zeus wouldn't tolerate me hurting one of his children, if only because it'd happen in Olympus itself, and at least three other gods were loyal enough or were fond of Ares to a point to help him), and as powerful as we were we'd still be outnumbered.
"Wait a minute. You want to fight freaking lord Ares?" One of Hephaestus' sons asked.
"No, we just want to talk to him." I wasn't being sarcastic, that's exactly what we wanted, despite saying our intentions outloud just seconds prior. That he'd have to be… coerced to talk… well, they just needed to wait.
Any opposition to it, from respect to the gods to the simple fact they believed it was suicide, didn't stop us from waiting in the main hall for Ares to arrive for his order. We didn't even plan or conjure traps
Ares, the God of War, Slayer of Many, the master of Fear and Pain themselves… just some pretty blonde.
"Brother, you better have that weapon…" He began to say before the smoke cleared out… and saw me and Rachel standing right in front of him.
As Hephaestus had told me months before, most of the olympian pantheon had been watching me as close as they could, but only him and Ares understood the threat I could pose if pissed off. And Ares, despite being the god of war, knew exactly what would happen if he dared to rear his pretty face near me, faking a good nature or not. As for Rachel, it took a good chunk of the Twelve to fight her father off, she had inherited a good deal of power from him, and despite hating him for it, she acknowledged that having a vast source of magic at her command was quite useful when the need arose and she could keep her mind focused.
And the first thing Ares saw of us was death.
Whatever bravado, whatever olympian smugness he had to chastise his brother at the moment, evaporated the exact second he realized what he was looking at. The second after that, he conjured a machine gun and let it loose on me. "Die motherfucker!" Profane little turd, wasn't he?
Enough firepower to destroy any tank on Earth at the moment, even wound Clark to the point of near death, simply bounced off of my body and Rachel's barrier. Without (most of) our allies in the same room, we didn't have to hold back.
And when you piss off the daughter of a god so evil he was considered a demon even by Hell itself and a powerful sorceress, and someone who KILLED his universe's version of Satan, with you being a random godling from a weakened pantheon…
Well, it would suck to be you.
I promptly walked up to Ares even as the supernatural shells slammed against my chest, grabbed his gun and bent it, and then punched him in that punchable face of his with enough force to crack the reinforced wall behind him.
"Brother help me!" Ares begged Hephaestus, who simply shook his head. That he didn't even stop from working at the anvil spoke volumes of what exactly he thought of his 'brother', and the empathy he had.
"Why? I'm neither suicidal to the point of pissing off someone who's more of a proper god of war than you, brother, nor bastard enough to take a man's child from him." Hephaestus explained. And if I were you, I'd start talking."
Ares got over his fear, if only for a moment, when he realized what was going on. "You set me up!"
"No, it's all your fault. They wanted to 'meet' you, and you just happened to ask me for a gun. It's all in your hands, not mine." Even better, Hephaestus cleaned his hands when he said that. Didn't help that Ares had done a couple dozen things that, well, would have ended with him crushing Ares' head with his hammer, like his affair with Aphrodite and nearly getting his sons killed. But that's for another time.
"Where. Is. My. Son."
"I… I don't have him, I swear, nor the mortals! I don't know where." It was Rachel's turn to play with him, grabbing him and slamming him against the ceiling.
"Your lackey reeked of you!" She sneered at him. Indeed, the magic traces we found at the farm and Ares' energy signature were identical. That he might not have that much involvement in the kidnapping didn't occur to us. "Talk! TALK!"
"Faust?" Most of you might now who he is, so I won't bother explaining. "He's not mine, I swear! Just some mage that needed my help for something!"
I slammed him once more. Was he being daft on purpose? Did he really think I would fall for that?! Was he really stupid to believe I wouldn't kill him?! "Don't deviate!"
Just because I needed him alive didn't mean I couldn't beat the shit out of him with the help Rachel. She didn't even have to grab him, her magic could inflict agony on Ares just by touching him. The threat of being overcome by her father's essence was nothing compared to the rage and desperation she had at the moment; in fact, it kept it in check.
As for why couldn't she just pry into his mind outright, two reasons:
-As a god, he was significantly tougher than even the most powerful psychic, and we didn't have time.
-Pain is the ultimate motivator, especially when you know lying will lead to more pain.
"Are… are these guys slamming fucking Ares around like a ragdoll?"
"Seems like he is."
I ignored their banter, and Pausanias' look of horror, and the fact I was starting to break the aura of mystery that surrounded me in front of people I did not want to know about my past. "What for? Where did he take him?"
Ares fidgeted, or rather tried to. "Look I can't tell you. He'll kill me, you know. Not Faust, of course, but-"
That brief moment of stupidity, despite the very fact he KNEW what I could to to him, what I would do if he didn't spill the beans…
It got me to chuckle.
Me, DOOM SLAYER. No, the forge didn't shake with my laughing, but everyone except Rachel got unnerved by the fact the giant stoic soldier from the future could make a sound like that. Nobody likes the sound of Doomguy laughing under his breath.
And then I punched the spot right next to his head, hard enough I sunk my entire arm on the rock. THAT didn't just cause the entire place to tremble, it made the entire island quake, and in fact I might had caused a tsunami if not for the nature of the place. Hell, any geologist withing a radius of five hundred kilometers thought someone had detonated a nuke.
Never make me angry.
Just a bit farther on the left, just an inch, and Ares would have ended like the billions of demons I slaughtered in the past, the difference being they at least died fighting; Ares pissed himself, and pretty sure he crapped too. Any other time I'd enjoyed the expression of pure terror on the bastard's face, but the longer he kept his mouth shut…
I grabbed him by the head and lifted him up, applying only enough force to crack his skull a bit. "WHERE IS GARFIELD?!"
"Tartarus! He's in Tartarus!" He all but cried, blood coming out of his tear ducts. Fortunately for him, his words were enough
Tartarus. One of the most terrible, darkest afterlives one could end up, the closest place outsde Apokolips to Hell, where those mortals who commited unspeakable crimes, or simply happened to anger Zeus, fell into after dying… and Hades' prison in DC.
I dropped Ares to the ground. "Leave, and if you are stupid enough to send your father after me, I'll eat your head, shit down your throat, and do to Olympus what Rome did to Carthage." I had to drive the point home, and for a brute like him, what better than threaten him and his family with one of his best moments?
Ares nodded hurriedly before leaving in an explosion, leaving us to ponder about what we pried from him.
The mythological Hades was a dour, but fair and just god of the underground, not a psychopomp, for that was Charon's job. DC's Hades, on the other hand, was the typical Satan stand-in, a demonic madman who tried to overthrow his younger brother by helping Kronos in the Titan-Olympian War, and paid for it when Zeus won.
Naturally, Hephaestus' sons did not take the news of an apocalypsis in the making well.
"Hades breaking free?"
"The Titans breaking free?!"
Hephaestus grabbed our shoulders shoulder "Slayer, Rachel…"
"I've killed worse than petty gods with delusions of greatness."
But Hephaestus shook his head. "I can't NOT believe on that, not after everything you've done, but if you kill him, you will piss off Zeus and, more importantly, announce to certain beings about your existence." He then turned to Pausanias. "Son."
Pausanias, who until that moment had been just as paralyzed as his brothers, came out of his stupor.
"Dad?"
"You will go with them and open the gate to Tartarus. You still remember the code, right?"
Pausanias nodded warily. "Yes, but dad, the gate to Tartarus is on Themyscira. What about Hippolyta and her people?"
"They're not our enemies" I replied. ", and besides I doubt they'll want to stand and watch as Hades breaks free from his prison."
"But what if they refuse?" It was Pollux, Castor's twin, the one asking about girls. "You're a man, and Themyscira has been closed to the rest of Earth since, well, our births, and they're rather unfettered when it comes to enforcing it."
I didn't bother to reply… but only because Rachel got ahead. "We'll kill them if they try to stop us." You don't get between a mother and her children if you don't have a death wish, misandrist culture or not.
"Ain't that a bit excessive? I mean, it's not like they'd know, well, anything"
Before I replied something in the lines of unleashing the awesome firepower of the BFG at full charge, Hephaestus spoke. "If they did anything to you, I would flood the entire island with enough magma to make another Sicily." He was completely calm when he spoke, which only served to get the point across. "You don't try to stop a parent from getting to his children."
This naturally, terrified yet heartwarmed Pollux. "Oh. Thanks, dad."
"And if this… Faust is in the island, he's either dead, which I doubt, or he has done something to the locals." In the cartoon he turned them to stone except for Diana, but here? But despite that happened, I just assumed he did the same, not that it'd changed anything.
But if the amazons even dared to stand in our way…
No, Kara is not going to stay behind, she's simply waiting for Team Powerhouse to get the info needed. As for the next chapter, it'll basically be a mix of the cartoon and the Wonder Woman movie, since Faust didn't have time to prepare the petrifying. For those who might not like how I portrated Ares given how he is in other media, aside from DS being DS and Rachel being Raven, remember than a mortal man sent him packing in the Illiad. Both Doom Slayer and Rachel are gods in their own right, and powerful ones to boot. Finally, Ares' involvement in the freeing of Hades: he gave stuff to Faust to skip the worldwide quest crap.
And yes, this means more people will find out about Doom Slayer's non-self insert nature (as in, the games' lore).
As a sidenote, I'm writing a Gate story, Knight in Power Armor. No, it's not an Astartes/BoS knight ending in Falmart, it's just a kinda ironic title given the protagonist is an interstellar bounty hunter. As for the summary, the guy got hired to rescue the daughter of a powerful politican of the not-Republic and given a Starship Trooper-esque set of armor (helluva powerful even by their standards), only to run into several problems. It's short with only five chapters, but the reviewers say it's good nonetheless.
Hubris (II)
We wasted no time in leaving the Forge, gathering everyone we could (including Arthur, Victor, a resurrected John, Wally and more), explained what happened, and go straight to Themyscira. Again, VEGA couldn't take us there outright, the island had the same protection as the Forge, but again that didn't mean we couldn't just appear right at the edge of said barrier, even if it was under the surface of the Aegean. None of us really cared except for Mecha.
"Next time warn us, man!" Weird for him given he didn't even have lungs nor the quintessential worry about rusting and/or water shorting him out.
All the while both Pausanias and Ayame, especially the former, kept focusing on me, and me alone. The mere fact one of the most powerful creatures they both knew of was folded by a powerful but otherwise mundane space marine made them think.
Those who could fly or simply jump very high followed me and Rachel, while the rest simply charged into the barrier, even Wally. That the barrier still stood despite everything meant the work of magic, alright
Cyclopes, laestrygonians and other living monsters of greek myth, undead aberrations brought out of their tombs, and even the odd human, many looking little different from your average Bronze Age monster or bandit, but a good chunk armed with guns, all doing their best to wipe out the themysciran resistance. The women of Themyscira might have been warriors blessed by the Three Goddesses, but this was the first time in three thousand years since a serious attack on their home by a foreign army, much less one with automatic weapons with nothing but swords, spears and bows.
An army brought there with a singular purpose: help free their master and conquer the world of men, and exterminate the Amazons while they were there because they could, something they were a damn good job on given the hundred or so corpses of armored women strewn around.
A pity they chose that day to invade and get between us and our goal. No, scratch that, a pity they chose to exist, period.
"Do we kill them?" I heard Steel ask.
Rather than responding outright, I fired on them with the cannon, ripping even the giants to shreds. Notably I didn't ask them to go for the kill outright, but those who came to Tamaran had long learned the difference between a perp and active combatants who couldn't be left alone.
"Figures." With that the fight for Themyscira turned around.
One of the cyclopes had the bad luck of being right where I landed, his guts and fluids flying everywhere.
"Who the hell are they?!"
"Keep fighting, for the glory of Ares!"
They were brave and competent for worshipers of a craven coward, I have to give them that, but after an army of interstellar demons led by a lesser god from an alien death world, and not in the mood for being slow about killing them, they might as well have been target practice, especially given we had brought damn near everyone on the League, even Bruce; he didn't kill, and neither did Barbara or Dick, but that didn't mean he stopped us from doing so. Indeed, you'd be surprised how strong Wally actually is, and how many (or rather, how few) punches your average greek ogre could survive.
This was also Victor's first rodeo with the League as Glacier. That cryo gun of his turned out to be more than capable of freezing a living organism from the inside out, and thanks to some tinkering with Steel, he was strong enough to punch a hole through a giant's skull, plus a plethora of other functions, including jet boots, a shield made of ice particles, and more I won't bother listing. He also proved to be pretty damn good at getting physical, even taking the suit into account. Apparently Bruce had given him classes in CQC just in case, enhanced by the fact he WAS quite willing to kill. Not that he was better than the others, mind you, just noting the previously cold Mr. Freeze could practically roar.
Of course, Arthur did his fair share of damage. If he wasn't cutting them up with the hook, or impaling them with the trident, he was striking them with water. Have any of you ever watched Avatar (the series, not the film)? Well, similar in concept to waterbending, except water flying at high sufficient velocity can cut even stone in half, so imagine the effect it had on flesh and bone creatures.
I don't really have anything to say about the rest, except the fact they didn't raise a fuss at actually killing someone despite their beliefs. They knew what was at hand, and
But Kara… She stole the spotlight, alright.
Kara was only below us three, to the point Clark might had even fainted if he saw what she did given these weren't parademons, but fully sapient beings. Not that anyone could blame her, since her adoptive parents were in mortal danger, but it gave one something to think about… especially given what her much stronger cousin could do if pissed off enough, something that I knew Bruce realized too.
In resume, we all but exterminated the invaders.
Imagine the Amazon's faces of shock when they realized most of their reinforcements were men, before they resumed the fighting. At that point, any aid to protect their home was welcome, no matter their gender, although I was pretty sure I saw a couple of them etching away from Pausanias.
"Ladyland, uh?" Patrick noted after expanding inside a cyclops, not caring that he sported a bit more red than usual, and that a laestrygonian "Never was that high in mythology, and in fact can't remember why I took it, but aren't they supposed to have only one tit?"
"Less talking, more fighting." John replied as he smashed a gunner's head with the butt of his gun in a rage-fueled frenzy. Now that he had a body, he was pretty eager to pay Faust in kind, without the possibility of becoming a ghost.
At this point, we were already moping up the survivors alongside the amazons, who did not really know what to do now that their city island was safe, aside of not incurring our wrath given what they had seen
And then a certain blonde who I won't bother actually naming forced her way through the crowd, furious at the mere presence of the 'wrong' gender on her home, none of her friends being fast enough to stop her. The fact I was covered in blood and mere seconds prior proved what I could do meant nothing to her as she raised her sword in a show of stupidity.
"A man dares to-" Aresia only had enough time to spew her bile before Rachel grabbed her and gagged her with darkness.
"I. Am. In a bad. Mood." And that mood got a bit worse just by letting this misandrist bitch live out of 'politeness', much less when I knew what she did in another universe disturbingly similar to this one out of sheer hatred for men. Fortunately, Rachel had the mind to just throw her away. "Where's the gate to Tartarus. Talk, or we'll tear this place apart." You don't stand between a lioness and her cub… nor a lion, for that matter.
Naturally, the amazons did not take kindly to their companion being treated like that by one of their own, their fear and unease replaced by righteous anger, raising their weapons and forcing us to do the same, but before we decided to just force our way and tear the place apart, a voice rang out from above.
"Stop!"
We all looked up to see a raven-haired amazon flying above us, sword and shield not dissimilar to Pausanias' hanging from her hips, both bloodied.
Wonder Woman herself, or rather just Diana of Themyscira, wearing her cartoon drappings, including that rather tacky leotard, the bulletproof bracelets, and the Lasso of Truth. She landed between both groups with her arms raised in an applacatory pose, but her gaze made clear she would fight if we attacked.
"Diana, you're not supposed to wear it!"
Diana just gestured around. "Desperate measures, sister." Then, she turned to us. "I am Diana, daughter of Hippolyta."
"The Justice League."
"And a Son of Hephaestus." Pausanias interjected. "And before you ask, no, I'm not here for vengeance or some stupid crap you might have thought of. I'm part of his group, and my father asked me to help him."
Some were obviously angry at the remark, but most of the Amazons fidgeted. Pretty sure one of them was looking at their son, and all remembered why the enmity.
"Why did you come? Don't misunderstand me, we appreciate the help, but, well, never expected anyone to come." She glanced at Aresia while saying 'anyone', making clear where she stod.
"We didn't come to help you. Ares wants to free Hades by doing something with my son and her parents." I explained as I gestured to Kara. "We're here to stop that from happening, no matter the cost."
"You're willing to die, then?" Diana asked.
"And kill." Steel replied, gripping his hammer. "Most of us would rather just incapacitate and let others handle the fallen, but as you can see we can go for the head if we have to."
Behind him, I saw Bruce look away. It didn't take a psychic to know what he was thinking about, about borderline breaking his oath of taking no lives himself, and being unable to stop others like him from doing it. It wasn't going to stop him from helping us, but it did make him think.
"Now could you tell us where this guy is so we don't feel even worse by being forced to take lives?"
Diana looked at me with a furrowed brow. I doubted she could realize she was looking at something only Zeus had any chance of fighting evenly "The Gate is right below us, protected by several blessings and our best warriors, but the entrance proper is at the Temple of Hera
"Below us? As in, straight under our feet? What are we waiting for? Grundy then began to punch the tiles under him, hoping to open the ground… but nothing happened, aside from shaking the place. " What the hell?"
"It's never easy, ain't it?"
"At least I tried."
Diana ignored him. "My mother is there. I was supposed to help her, but I saw you fighting and needed to find out who you were."
"Well, now you do. Now, take us to the entrance."
"Hades is the God of the Dead. No mortal can fight a god and expect to survive, man or not."
"We don't give a damn at this point. Besides, I'm kind of a god myself." Grundy then demonstrated his power to the amazons, making a sequoia to sprout right in the middle of the agora, in less than ten seconds. Indeed, the sight of that giant-ass tree miraculously growing in their home was enough to shut them up. He then pointed at Rachel. "And so is she, but differently. You don't want to piss her off… more, nor me for that matter."
We made our way to the temple, and frankly, the place had seen better days: even without the bodies of Ares minions and amazons strewn everywhere, the place looked more at home in a wasteland
"Hades' taint is already coming out." Diana growled at the sight.
"I thought Hades was a neutral guy?" Mecha wondered outloud.
Before Diana or the Amazons could answer Mecha, Pausanias turned to him, but not in anger. "He was, but Zeus' attitude and treatment after getting out pushed him back to Cronos during the Titan War. Have in mind that, according to my father, this happened in just three weeks. Oh, and he was trapped longer than the others in Cronos' stomach. Might not seem that much, but it ought to tell you something."
"Yeah, the Olympians are a bunch of cunts." John remarked before realizing he was simplifying it too mich. "Aside from Daddy Hammer, who's a chill bloke, and of course Hestia, ALL the others are inbred fucks. Kinda like Dionysius, though."
Understandably, many Amazons were very unamused by this strange man instulting their pantheon, but given the circumstances and the fact he was right, they kept it to themselves.
Zeus was part of the problem, but he hadn't done anything, at least yet… but that could change, given everything that was going on. First, though, to get Garfield.
"Grundy, Flash, John, Supergirl, Spartan, Wolf Princess, you come with us. The rest of you" I turned to everyone else. Seeing them look at me, even the Amazons, made me feel a bit of pride surge in my chest. ", you'll be the second line in case something goes wrong."
"Why are we listening to a man?" I heard the unmistakable voice of Aresia all but scream.
"Does anyone care about what she says?" Wally asked. "What with a possible hellgate about to open through human sacrifice?"
"Hell?"
Diana stood in front of me. "I'll be going with you. My mother needs me, and you'll need more hands in case Hades does break out." She assumed whe had a way to seal him back.
However, before we could enter the temple, John took us aside.
"You guys spare us a minute? Is about the sealing, and no Z, you can't help with this."
He brought us away from the group, enough that they wouldn't be hearing what he had to say.
"John, better be quick." I warned him.
"An awful lot of people is coming down with us, none of whome have an idea of what you really are." He warned me. "You realize what can happen, don't you? If that guy manages to free Hades…"
"We can take him." Rachel assured him.
"That's what worries me; they don't know that. And if they find out you two can kill gods without help-" I stopped him from talking. We had told him about Kalibak, but he brushed him off as some alien dreg.
"John, I'm prepared to do whatever it takes to save Garfield, and if that means revealing my true nature to people that shouldn't know, then so be it."
John seemed to want to say something, anything, but then sighed before muttering 'fuck it', pulling out his flask, pouring a bit of its content on the ground, then throwing it away.
"At least I'll get to see a god die a brutal death."
It would also be the catalyst of a series of incidents that would reveal my true nature as Doomguy and my full power, including, among others, the execution of Joker, and travelling to yet another universe to save its Earth, but that would happen much later.
First, though, we had to stop Faust from freeing his master and army from Tartarus and, in case they escaped anyway… kill Hades.
Which of course ended up happening.
No, Hades won't get the God of War treatment right in the next chapter, nor that particular treatment either, I have something more… personal. As for Aresia's treatment, mix of impatience and me hating her archetype.
Hubris (III)
Rachel stared forward as the group made their way through the corridor that led to Tartarus' Gate, determined yet anxious at the same time. She never thought she'd be with someone long enough to bond with them, what with her self-appointed wandering, but then Doom Slayer came into her life.
This already not-so unassuming man not only was a god by the universe's standards, but the second most powerful being from his universe, for their Satan was ALSO God; Slayer even wasconnected to the thing somehow (he wasn't a descendant by blood, nor a construct. He simply was), but apparently didn't realize it well after their Hell attacked… several times. Indeed, by his own admission, the Nether had invaded Earth, first out of opportunism, then out of spite for him, then finally desperation. Only to always fail because of him.
And he had killed their master. With nothing but the very same blade attached to his right gauntlet.
All that power, all that might, and in possession of technology that surpassed anything made on Earth, and many alien powers for that matter… and he used it entirely for good. One would think all that fighting against a terrifying enemy
"To them, I was the unstoppable horror, the apocalypse that would take their lives."
And she was one of the two people to know his real identity, the other being Constantine. That he even deigned her with the information… Even after living with him for several months, the best she could come up with was a show of trust.
But he wasn't merely a paragon of good and justice, nor a host that understood her. No, he was a father too. And the child liked her.
People were too complex to realize what she was, and in general children liked her when they didn't find her creepy, but most animals felt her taint, her curse, and had no reason to not make it known to her or anybody close. And yet Garfield, the embodiment of all wildlife on Earth, never hesitated in hugging her, comforting her, smiling at her. Not that no one else hadn't done that before, but he knew what she war, yet didn't care despite being both a child and a shapeshifter in tune with his nature.
She didn't give a damn if Hades was only one tier below Trigon in pure power, she'd kill him if he had even touched a single strand of Garfield's hair.
"You think Flash can take on this guy? He's not just super fast, he can punch through rock." Ayame asked.
"If he could, he'd be here with the Kents and Garfield already. Besides, we barely know anything about them."
"He's a man, and can do magic, that's the extent of my knowledge." Diana replied. "I was ordered by my mother to aid the others, so I didn't see much of him."
After entering the temple, little group made it's way through the tunnels, which was slowly turning into a cave, me and Rachel at the head. It seemed that the Amazons deemed the tunnel good enough, they hadn't bothered to furbish it with more than torches to light the way.
I could feel Rachel's anger and apprehension as we trudged through the cave, and she mine. We were determined to get Garfield back, and make sure the bastard who took him wouldn't be able to pull it off. Ever. Again.
Which kinda bit us in the ass in the (very) short term.
Eventually, we reached the end of the tunnel: a enormous cavern with an equally large temple in the center. The place was huge, clearly supernatural since the roof had to be higher than Themyscira's surface. The temple, on the other hand, wasn't all that special aside from its size. It was the gate at the front that made clear what it really was, a red light coming from it.
And of course, the corpses of several Amazons littering the floor, many of them gutter. I saw Diana falter for a second before recovering just as quickly.
"You shall be avenged." She muttered to herself and them, her sword hand gripping the pommel tightly, her knuckles turning white.
We found out the reason Wally hadn't gone back: the intruder had fused him with the ground to the neck, leaving only his head. Even then he had promptly gone to free himself by the only way he could: headbutts. His skull was thicker than it looked, and eventually he'd freed himself, but he was already bleeding profusely.
"Wally!" Grundy was about to pull him out, but Wally stopped him.
"Forget about, I'm fine! Help her and get them out of here!"
Indeed, with the rush of seeing the Flash in danger, the others hadn't noticed the fight that was taking place in front of the temple.
A strange, bearded man wearing blue robes and a golden circlet, fighting a blonde woman dressed in the hoplite manner with nothing but his bare hands, and even enjoying the fight, even though by looks alone he was clearly a magician; conversely, the woman was barely hanging on a thread from defeat, even as she weathered his attacks. She didn't even had a sword, she only had a shield. There were several men around them jeering at Diana, but none did anything else, preferring to watch as their master fought.
Felix Faust. No longer the meek, shifty wizard from the cartoon, he had either somehow become a powerhouse, probably through his dealings with Hades, or was one since the beginning.
After all, one had to be powerful to force the queen of Themyscira to her knees without even magic.
"Mother!" Diana shouted before charging into the fray, ramming into the mage and skewering one of the cultists. The others followed suit, slamming into the fight.
Faust's followers were admittedly strong, enough to give, say, Pausanias, trouble one on one. Thing was, they didn't outnumber us, we had the element of surprise, and some of us were out of their league.
But me and Rachel weren't focused on the massacre.
Right behind the fight, mere meters in front of the gate, sat the Kents, bound and gagged but otherwise fine… and Garfield, in the form of a lion, trying to claw and bite his way out of a cage. However, despite his ferocity, it was as clear as a clean sky to me that he was terrified of the situation.
By the time Kara remembered her parents, I had already reached the cage and torn it apart, and embracing my son with all my heart.
I felt a third person joining us: Rachel.
"Everything will be alright." I still don't remember who said that, me or Rachel, but frankly I don't particularly care even now.
The three of us stood there in a hug, not paying attention to the fight at our backs, or the dead wizard at our feet.
And then Faust, who had somehow avoided death by angry metahumans, blood seeping from his mouth, stood up and looked at us with a smile.
One would think this was that moment where the villain of the story gloats or talks about the heroes' inminent defeat despite his forces being exterminated to the last, or that no matter what happens to him, his plans would continue, or a simple, last spite-filled speech, but none of that happened here, even though he did open his mouth.
Because I blew his fucking head off with the blaster. I refused to even deign him with the Super Shotgun.
His headless corpse stood for a few seconds, blood spurting from the smoking geiser that was his neck, before dropping.
"That… was anticlimatic." Ayame said outloud as she cleaned her sword on one of the dead.
"The power of laser gun compelled him. Well, plasma gun, but you get what I mean." I can't remember who said that, it might have been John.
"I meant the entire fight. For a bunch of super cultists, they didn't seem all that strong."
"You said it yourself, they were cultists." Pausanias replied, kicking one of the corpses.
Diana paid them no mind, helping her mother stand up. "Mother, are you alright?"
"I want to say yes." She then winced and nearly fell over. "But that bastard was stronger than he looked."
And then, all out of sudden, the gate screeched.
"W-what the fuck?!"
The blood from Faust's stump was being absorbed by the floor, then redirected to the gate's hinges. Yes, only Faust: the others either didn't have what he had on him, or were unworthy sacrifices.
In my anger, I played right into Faust's hands. That HE could end up being the sacrifice might or might not had occurred to him, but at that moment that was the least of our problems, because the gate literally exploded as black, smoky creatures escaped, screeching and moaning.
"You were saying?" John growled as dozens of shadow creatures poured out of the open gate. He promptly began blasting at them with fire, and soon we joined him.
"Nevermind!"
Those things were similar to me, the souls of the damned dead, only unlike lost souls they hadn't been turned into demons proper.
Then, a tall, bulky silhouette appeared in the gate, a horned, armored man with red eyes peering at us as he walked out of Tartarus with a deliberate step, even as more shadows raced all around him, and despite his helmet, I knew he was smiling.
Hades himself.
Yeah, Hades his freedom won't last more than an hour. I know it's a short chapter, it's more of a middle point for the big fight… if I can deliver it satisfactorily. No excuses for the lacklusting drama, though.
Bones_Malone said:
IT HAS FINALLY BEGUN!
THEY TOO SHALL FEAR THE SLAYERS MARK!
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MWKillKenny84 said:
Time for the Crucible Blade to get out and play the role of the Great Communicator, I guess?
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Doccer said:
Who doesn't?
Thinking of Doom Slayer my mind instantly went to Piccolo stating "Nooooot really a mile stone anymore."
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Redler_M_Schnyder77 said:
Looks like the time has come for the Doom Slayer to be known throughout all of the Pantheons.
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They're going to reconsider their assholery levels.
GhostMarine51 said:
Doom Slayer. If he's Doom eternal era he's THE Slayer.
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Doom Slayer is his name, Doomguy is what he is. Yeah, makes no sense, but it sounds cool.
Ngamer11 said:
I hope she becomes a bitter woman with no friends who's forced to watch the Amazons develop and grow beyond their misandry.
That should say 'whom'. Also, I can't wait to see everyone's reactions to Doom Slayer permanently executing a god. If he had to start cleaning house among the Olympians, who do you think he'd spare? My bet would be Athena, Artemis, Hermes, Apollo, Demeter, Dionysus, and Hestia.
Anyone have any hopes on what that other Earth will be. My personal wish is Injustice Earth, if only so that we can read about Doom Slayer killing Regime Superman.
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Weedisdaboss said:
Ehh you know that the writers were forced to make Superman & friends cartoon evil in the end, cause to many people did agree with their views in the beginning….like killing the damn Joker for example.
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They might or might not piss their pants in abject terror, depending on their general attitude. As for what Earth is, it's a surprise, but it doesn't have an evil JL. Might make a short interlude/omake of Doom Slayer going Terminator on them in the future, though.
As for Aresia, she's dead. No, seriously, she's going to die, if not necessarily at Doom Slayer's hands, not only because I like killing off villains that get scot free in other works, but also because, again, I hate her archetype. As for not killing the Olympians, I'd say Hestia, Apollo, Hermes, Aphrodite, maybe Athena and of course Hephaestus; all the others are on his 'watch closely' list.
Barricade said:
I looked, and behold, a pale horse; and he who sat on it had the name Death; and Hades was following with him. For Hades' pitifully screaming body was within Death's grasp, as he was dragged upon the cold unyielding earth, face first. Repent! For the skies hast begun playing Metal. It is the time of Kar En Tuk!
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Listen to the words written in the Testament,
When the Slayer comes around
*Cue a collage of apocalyptic images like Dawn of The Dead, but with demons dying instead of zombies*
Also, my story ADHD has kicked again, once more a Fallout AU, King Under The Mountain but this time. It's got only five chapters, but I think I'm going strong. The premise: self insert wakes up in a military bunker thirty years before Fallout 1, in a rather different Fallout than the one he knows, and with no means of long-range travel (he's in Florida), and thus takes it upon himself to civilize the Wasteland. There are other franchises and obscure Fallout facts thrown in to add flavor, and I decided to change several things to make it a worldbuilding AU, but by an large it's still the mutant-infested, robot-loving world we all love, only America didn't stay in the fifties when the bombs dropped.
Hubris (IV)
Pausanias never thought he'd end up facing the one thing even Ares, the God of War himself, feared outside Kronos and his own father.
Fucking Hades in person.
But then, he never thought he'd see a supposedly mundane soldier from the future kill an alien god either. Sure, he finally died to the blade his father made that could kill deities, and he didn't know anything about the so called 'New Gods' except that they were that, gods, but Slayer had already punched a hole through Kalibak before Komand'r decapitated him, and going by the horror on the lion-like alien, he did not expect it to happen. And of course there was his little stunt with Ares back at the Forge. Sure, Ares was essentially a glorified bully, but one with enough power to kill Superman, and bullies were quickly in exacting payback against those who humilliated them. Add in the fact he was an Olympian and, well, Pausanias thought Ares would kill Slayer if not for Hephaestus being there to rein him in.
Instead, he told Slayer everything he knew and simply left with the metaphorical tail between his legs, barely even acknowledging his brother.
Pausanias couldn't lie to himself, he had yet to recover from those screw ups with Daizo, what with Slayer and his giant friend turning what had been for him and Ayame life-or-death fights against a night unkillable monster into ridiculousy easy victories, and doing so just before they got killed, but he was getting better.
And then the incident with Ares happened, and Pausanias realized he might had been seeing the martian immigrant from the wrong angle. Was his Earth really advanced enough to make soldiers like him, or was he something else entirely?
Even though the huge metal-covered bulk of the God of the Dead, the Betrayer, Hades in the flesh, was standing in the cave, the warrior just couldn't look away from Doom Slayer, and not simply because he was still the second largest person around after Grundy.
"So, Faust did what he was told, has he? Never expected the reedy scholar to actually pull it off." Hades said. Even with the battle raging around them, even with the screeching of the literal dead mixed with the battle cries of the League. his deep, reverberating voice was heard. "'I'm fairly certain he'll be out here in some minutes."
The helmet hid everything, obviously, but Pausanias had developed a good eye for body language, both because of his careers and because japanese tended to be a tad more physical than the average: the bulging veins, the unmoving muscles, the way his helmet faced Hades and ignored everything around him, and the fact he had shoved the boy right behind him. Raven, conversely, was much easier to read, a snarl on her lips and her suddenly red eyes laser-focused on Hades. Hell, Pausanias thought he saw something appear on her forehead, something red and glowing. The fact that every shade close to them just plain evaporated spoke volumes of her power, and what the both of them were feeling.
Pure, unbridled rage. These two did not fear Hades, but it wasn't simply due to parental instinct. Not that it mattered to Hades.
"So, you must be Trigon's little girl. Never thought he'd go the way of my family." Hades said. "But where are my manners? You are royalty! I think I must give you a proper welcome to my domain, don't you think?"
And then, before anyone could do anything, even though he saw a glimpse of Doom Slayer moving (or rather, jumping) towards the god, a gale of wind began to push everyone towards the gate; even Grundy, strong and heavy as he was, could do nothing but flail as he was sucked in.
Except Doom Slayer. Pausanias swore he saw him actually jumping in, trying to reach the flailing body of the boy, with Rachel somehow ahead of him but after that all he saw was darkness, smoke, and fire, and felt Ayame
"Alright, who's not dead and undead? Sound off!" He heard Constantine shout.
"Damn demon freak things tried to get up my ass." Grundy's voice managed to maked itself heard above the groans. "Can somebody check if they got in? Now, don't jump me all at once."
"Too bad. I think Flash stayed behind, can't see him anywhere."
"He was neckdeep into rock, he couldn't leave, remember?"
"Ayame!"
"Pausanias! Thank Kami!" A strange little thing of her, one that even now he didn't fully understand, and neither did her family.
And then they all looked around, and Pausanias wished they had died… even though they might had ended up there anyway.
Tartarus. They had been sucked into Tartarus. Not Hell as the Bible, but with the rivers of molten bronze and magma (the Phlegeton, if his memory didn't fail him), the smoke, and the screams of those who had pissed off the Olympians, it was a respectable second place, unless what he heard about Apokolips was true. Where Tantalus, Arke and the others watching them from afar, even as they suffered their punishments? And the Titans? Where they still alive, or had Hades cannibalized them, unlikely as it seemed?
"Oh, no…"
"Is… Is this Hell?" He heard Superman's father mutter in horror at the sight around him.
"Fortunately not."
"'Fortunately'?" The dark-haired amazon, Diana, said, bewildered, angry and scared at once. "We're in Tartarus! The prison of the Titans, Hades' domain! He's at his strongest here!"
Constantine didn't even bother to look her way when he spoke, preferring to take upon the sight. "First, there ARE worse places than Tartarus out there, Boudicca, places I've been to, like, say, the actual Hell from the Bible. Second, if this is Hades' house, where is his army? I don't mean the shades either, there's no giantass motherfucker on sight."
"That's insulting, John." Grundy muttered in a joking offended tone. "Am I not big enought for you?"
"You're fifteen feet tall, I'm talking Tower of London big."
"Hey, you're right, I thought we were being swarmed by those shadow thingies thirty seconds ago?"
"This is their home, it should be infested with them."
"Where are Slayer and Raven?"
"It doesn't matter, we must leave this dark place, now!" Hippolyta cried. "We must not waste your friends' sacrifices!"
"First, I'm not seeing the way we entered, so that'll have to wait, whether you like it or nor." Constantine said before his brow furrowed. "And second, I'm not leaving without them."
Grundy grunted in agreement. "Neither am I. I didn't search the entire damn planet for Rachel only to leave her in a Hell copy, and I sure as hell making Garfield an orphan again."
Hippolyta glared at them, bewildered. "Don't you have the slightest idea of the danger we're in?!"
"Believe me, I've been in worse places than this. Here, at least, you're tortured for pissing off someone, not being brought at the wrong time by the wrong twat. Oh, and you can see." Pausanias was happy Constantine didn't elaborate on that. "And kinda bold of you to assume they're dead already, given your gods can be warded off by psychos with bronze swords, and some of those psychos were fully human."
"Hades is not Ares!"
Before either could continue their argument, they were stopped by an explosion coming from their left.
There, on the far back of the cavern, rising over the sea of magma like a mountain, stood a large plateau of red hot iron, so large it covered the horizon, so high all they could see was the edge, so bright it was essentially a giant fire, yet far enough they all could look at it without issue.
"Any idea of what that might be?" Supergirl asked.
"I only know the geography of the Underworld. Of Tartarus, I'm more or less blind."
The princess, Diana, made as if to fly towards it, butConstantine's hand stopped her.
"Stay out of it." He said. She seemed to be about to give him a piece of her mind, or worse given that a man was touching her and she had a sword, but they way he looked at her, the grim, hard look his eyes had, stopped her from doing anything. Her mother, not so much.
"That there is Hades! Only Zeus has a chance to defeat him in a fair fight!"
"Yes, we know, and if you're intelligent you won't get close to them."
"John, I'm pretty sure they appreciate your confindence, but they're fighting a legit, REAL god, not a crappy alien demigod wannabe." Ayame pointed out. All she received from the trenchcoat wearer was a deadpan look.
"Whose father didn't kill Zeus because it'd be a waste of time."
"Who are you talking about? No one can beat lord Zeus." They ignored the raven-haired woman's question.
Did Constantine know something about Doom Slayer that they, not even Grundy, didn't? He was nearly always by his sidem didn't he? Just what the hell was going on?
"You guys forget, Raven is half goddess herself. Well, half demon, but that demon nearly killed Zeus in his heyday."
"So, we stay here and do nothing as that monster kills our friends and eats their very souls?"
"Who said anything about him killing them? I didn't."
"Then why the fuck aren't we helping them?! I can control the bioshpere, for fuck's sake!" Grundy roared, and was about to roar more when something struck. He looked around frantically, first in desperation, then in horror. "Wait… where's Garfield?!"
"He was the first to be sucked in."
"Okay, change of plans, Grundy and those who can fly'll go help Slayer and Raven, the rest will-"
And then, before Constantine could finish what he was, the 'arena' the fight was taking place at was engulfed by some kind of green light, so bright even Pausania's helmet couldn't protect his eyes and he had to look away, and so did the others. All except Constantine, who immediately conjured some kind of pole connected to the ground.
"What the hell?"
"Everyone, hold onto something, NOW!" The englishman screamed. "Now, goddamit, now!"
Not bothering to ask what was going on, Pausanias stabbed his sword on the ground and grabbed Ayame with his free hand, the yokai doing the same with one of her swords. The Amazons did the same; Grundy, being Grundy, simply grabbed the rockbed, his huge hands cracking the stone with ease, while Supergirl grabbed onto him, her parents doing the same with her.
And then the wind came. At first (say, a second or so), it was only strong enough to push the smoke, but then it grew in intensity more and more, until the rivers of molten metal became rain and the screams of the damned ceased completely. Hell, Pausanias swore it'd been enough to rip a mundane mortal's flesh off their bones; good thing Grundy took most of the blast and Supergirl shielded her parents. Constantine screamed in pure agony, but other than that he seemed fine.
"Did they set off a nuke?!" Ayame screamed, her voice barely audible with the gale. "Does Slayer have nukes in his pocket?!"
"You wish, gi-" Whatever Constantine was screaming (at the top of his lungs) was smothered by the sound of the strongest explosion he had ever heard. Indeed, so loud it was, Pausanias was sure something must have been protecting their ears, given they didn't burst under the oral onslaught, more powerful than a hundred cannons, or even the Forge when his father was pissed.
And then, a minute or so later, just as they looked around in amazement as it died out, something fell on Pausanias' head.
"Holy shit!"
The head of a horrible monster, partly ratlike, partly wolflike, horns dotted on its head alongside two long ears, and three long, forked tongues hanging from its mouth, red as blood, though whether that was because actual blood was coming out of the mouth or not he didn't know. Its black eyes were staring at nothing in particular. But what was it? Nothing lived in Tartarus sans its prisoners, the damned dead, and…
Right, he forgot, his foster relatives liked to change form.
And then the head slowly morphed into that of a handsome, blue-eyed, bearded man. Even dead, however, said eyes conveyed an expression, or rather, several: confusion, shock… and fear.
Something had killed Hades. And given everything that had transpired, Pausanias had an idea of what, or rather who, had done it… and how was it possible at all.
"Hades…" He heard Hippolyta whisper in both horror and amazement. "The Traitor of Tartarus… dead?"
"Well, yes and no, if you want to nitpick. Also, good alliterative."
Then, to the shock of everyone present, the head began to burn away, the ashes floating for a moment before raising to the air, flying around, then flowing… into the motionless form of Doom Slayer.
The soldier had his helmet in hand and a grim, stoic expression on his face, most of his body caked with blood. Raven stood right next to him, just as grim as the soldier, a wide-eyed Garfield hugged against her blood splattered chest. The mere fact they right there at all would've been more thn enough to terrify them, but with what they just saw happen right in front of their eyes.
At this point, Pausanias couldn't contain it anymore.
"Are you… a god?"
So, should I write the battle in full detail, or keep it a 'show, don't tell' thing? Also, that Hades focused on Rachel instead of, say, Hippolyta is part of her long-arching plot.
MWKillKenny84 said:
Let me guess, he will have visions of what an alternate of his suffered at the hands of the Ghost of Sparta?
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imhotep99301 said:
Or DoomSlayer is going to introduce Hades to his good friend Mr. BFG.
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Well, he DID use Mr. BFG, but something else happened. After all, Hades' head survived.
LEVIBRECHBIEL1997 said:
Hey are you going to do the justice guild of America episodes cause I would like to read what their reaction to doom slayer
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I've thought of bringing them into the story, make them join the new League. As for their reaction, individually it varies, but as a group they don't really care that Doom Slayer kills given their background, if some of them don't kill themselves (hell, you could say they'd happily let B.J and the Nazi Zombies quartet join them), but a bit annoyed at his admittedly rare brutality towards those he does kill.
Weedisdaboss said:
Is the protagonist still forced to help settlement in trouble in that Fallout AU
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No… t yet, mostly because the Minutemen do not even exist, but trust me, he won't be just defend settlers from raider attacks. No, he's going big.
Hubris (finale)
I think I may have been a bit hasty, trying to crush his head instead of shooting him, but anger can make a man do things, and when that anger comes from said man's love for his child, all bets are off.
"Hello there."
I didn't know where the others where, and frankly, given the current situation, I didn't care. All I knew was that a sociopath strong enough to kill Superman with his bare hands was holding Garfield and had an entire army of shadows backing him up, as we stood in some kind of oversized, heated anvil somewhere in the depths of Tartarus. Rachel was right besides me, glaring at our enemy, her hands covered in the darkness of her magic, and her eyes having a faint but noticeable red glow in them.
There he stood, looking at us from the center of the plateau, with a growing army of shrieking shades forming up behind him… and holding Garfield with one arm.
"Release him!"
"Why? I'm not doing anything to him." Indeed he wasn't, simply holding Garfield by the scruff of his shirt, and indeed I didn't give a damn he wasn't doing anything to him. "Besides, I've always wanted to meet the Red in person. Never thought somebody would link it to a child of all things."
"Let him go. Now."
"Why? So you and your lover can have a clean shot at me?" He tutted. He was right: had Garfield been any farther, I'd have shot his head off with the gauss cannon. "I may be a son of Kronos, but I can see something for what it is, and you pose a threat to my plans… and life, and I want to keep the latter as long as I can.
"Your plans?" Rachel asked. She too wanted to take Garfield from him, but also saw the wisdom to find out more about what he had planned to do. "And where are the others?
"Would either of you believe me if I said I merely wanted to meet Trigon's daughter and her guardian in the flesh, and say hello to Hippolyta, maybe even visit Zeus with sword in hand? In fact, I wasn't even mad at my brother at first, I deserved what I got." Even though he had a helmet on, I knew his face furrowed in rage. "At least until it became clear I wouldn't be getting out, ever."
"What did you expect by betraying the man who was kind enough to free you from your father's innards and taking the Titan's side? Your own brother?"
"At least being forced to live in Erebus and rule over the dead for the rest of eternity, not being trapped and tortured in Tartarus with no way to get out and nothing but the damned dead and the Titans to keep me company!" Hades ranted as his eyes glowed red, his army mimicking him, before calming down. "Ah, I forgot about your companions. I left them at the entrance: you are more than a match for me each, the last thing I want is to fight you alongside that giant treemaker of yours. He reminds me too much of my grandmother"
The Titans. Right, we were in their prison, and yet something was wrong. Granted, I didn't know where exactly we where, but… "Where are the Titans?"
"I detect only one source of Olympian divine essence." Vega replied after a quick scan. Quick fact for the uneducated: Olympians and Titans were more or less the same thing; the Great War was essentially a divine civil war.
"Oh, them? They killed themselves and used their deaths to free me, so that at least one of us could take revenge on Olympus, and because they just gave up in life." Hades said nonchalantly. "Even then, I needed outside help to actually open the gate. Fortunately, a certain wizard was willing to do anything to get what he wanted and, well, beggars can't be choosers, and I only needed blood."
"How do you know who we are?" I asked. He was still an Olympian, and a powerful one: with enough flattering or even just talking, he might get distracted, allowing us to take Garfield from him.
He smirked "Tartarus and Hell might not be the same thing, but they have a similar purpose, and some of the damned can get… what do they call it these days… ah, right, 'rerouted' from their appointed prisons." He then turned to Rachel. "Plus, your father is a rather powerful man, one I'd rather not anger… yet."
Did he have something planned with Rachel? Had he made a deal with Trigon? Or was he thinking about spitting him?
"Besides, your little stunt brought me back to square zero, or whatever they call it. I'll need a new, even stronger sacrifice to get out." Then, he turned Garfield to look into his eyes. "And what do you know, the personification of the Red is literally in my hands. A Force of Nature in the palm of my hand…"
Rachel was the first to react, sending a blast of black thunder that attacked Hades from behind. It made him stumble, but he didn't release Garfield, and when he recovered, he replied in kind by launching a fireball at her. Not knowing if she could block it, I jumped in front of her and stopped it… and screamed.
"Slayer!"
Pain. The first thing here that actually burned me. When the smoke cleared, one of my arms was burned down to the muscle, but the skin was already growing back
Nonetheless, this was enough for Hades to slam into my dazzled self, sending us both into the ground. "So, you can be hurt, just like any Olymian? Does that mean you can die?!"
In response, I slammed my fist in his gut. It did nothing than make him cough and sputter blood, but it was enough for me: he could bleed too, he could die too. Unfortunately, that realization mean he could use the desperation of a living being threatened to fight harder.
He punched me once, twice, in the head, his attacks carrying enough power to actually crack the faceplate. I was happy to return the favor, however; better yet, him lasting so long meant I could actually apply my… 'knowledge' of pankration on him. Hades, as strong as he was, was unable to stop me from digging my hand into his belly and ripping his intestines, prompting a cry of agony from the god. I even tried to strangle him with them, but he was growing restless.
"Motherfucker!"
Even with his living guts hanging from his torso, and one arm smashed beyond repair, he was still more than able to fight back, ripping my helmet open and headbutting me.
Behind us, Rachel fought off the spirit army with all her anger, screaming as she blasted shades by the hundreds; those who managed to get close didn't seem to realize she was strong enough to kill them with ther bare hands. But for every shadow she destroyed, a hundred would take its place, and given the nature of Tartarus I wasn't sure if she was actually killing them.
Hades, growing impatient, angry and desperate, turned into mist and punched Rachel in the back, throwing her into the sea of dead before grabbing Garfield by the head.
"I should have done this the moment I got a hold on you!"
This fucker wanted to kill my son. He tried to kill Rachel. He tried to kill me. Tried to finish what he had started three thousand years ago out of petty spite for his family, sink the world into an spiral of darkness and death.
He had to die.
I called the heavy cannon and, before Hades could react, shot him in the head with a Precision Bolt. Enough kinetic energy to pierce a modern tank did nothing but stun him, but I already knew it wouldn't kill him. It also made him drop Garfield, who was promptly grabbed by Rachel. Hades recovered just as quickly, pulled out a sword from his belly, and charged at me.
Knowing most of my guns would only wound him, and the one that could kill him would be a gamble with the others so close, I met him head on, and our brawl continued.
He was strong, again, the second strongest Olympian, to the point only Zeus matched him, the rest having to gang up on him to have a chance in beating him. Again, that made him the most powerful thing I had faced here. Which, again, after tiring ourselves out, we ended up mostly brawling on the ground while Rachel did her best to fight off the shades without giving in into Trigon's influence. I could feel that darkness try to seep in, try to get her go all out on Tartarus.
"Alright, I have to admit, I might have understimated you two!" He snarled as he tried to choke me. By that time I had pulled his helmet off, revealing his normal human head before a blast from Rachel forced him to assume his 'real' form. Strange to consider that rat-like thing his real self and his human skin his glamour given everything and the fact he was just as vain as his family aside from his nephew.
From the corner of my eye I saw as Rachel, teeth clenched in a snarl, her eyes red, and body shifting slowly but clearly (two familiar glows forming on her forehead, her teeth and nails growing longer and sharper), did her best to kill the shades while keeping a crying Garfield against her chest.
"When I'm done with you, your family will be next!" That snarl only served to make me angrier, which was bad for him, but it did nothing to help. "I will turn nature upon itself, and go after Olympus!
Sure, I could kill Hades on the long run, but Rachel couldn't fight his army and protect Garfield from the shades at the same time, not without making things worse for the universe. Again, of my weapons could help in our fights: Hades was too strong for most of them to kill him quickly, and the shades were both endless and returning, which meant that if I focused in a section of the swarm the other would be free.
Which left me with one option to end it all quickly: the BFG .
In the time since I had awakened here, I had yet to use her, let alone fire her at full power, and for good reason: with no game limitating her Argent-fueled power, her full potency could be measured in the gigatons, but even at her lowest she could knock Clark out and singe him. If I fired it half-charge, it would kill Hades for sure and exterminate his army, but Garfield and Rachel would be caught in the blast.
Unless, of course, I was quick enough. It was a huge gamble, but I was running out of options… and one part, not a small one mind you, wanted me to see the beautiful green glow and carnage the BFG made… again.
Even though I had never seen it.
I sucker punched Hades with all my might and, as he recovered, pulled out the BFG, aimed it at him, fired it, and jumped over to Rachel and Garfield.
Needless to say, he never expected a weapon so advanced-looking and shiny to hurt him, let alone do what it did when it connected with his chest, in the few milliseconds his face wasn't consumed by the core of a star.
The moment the bolt exploded, I was already over Rachel and Garfield, my body covering theirs. The screams of the shades and the sound of their 'bodies' burning were soon replaced by what could only be best described as a combination of the worst hurricane ever recorded in human history and the surface of the sun. Indeed, the Praetor, my own body and a hastily raised barrier from Rachel were the only thing that saved them, and the last one only lasted for a few seconds.
"Don't move!"
Eventually, after what seemed an eternity, the storm died out, leaving us alone in… well, what remained of the plateau: the area inmedate to us had been vaporized, and the edge of said area in turn was molten slag.
"Was… was that…?" Rachel asked. She knew of the gun, seen what it could do, but to see the aftermath with her own eyes, well, opened her eyes about the damage it could do.
"Yes."
And then I remembered: Garfield!
Rachel, reading my thoughts, stood up
He was unharmed aside from a couple bruises and his torn shirt, but it wasn't that what worried me. His eyes were wide with terror, terror not all borne from Hades, and glistening with tears.
"Garfield." I did my best to wipe those tears away. After that, I embraced him with all the gentleness I could muster, even with the flush of adrenaline and Argent coursing through my veins. Then, I felt the soft arms of Rachel trying to clasp around the both of us, before… what was it called? Ah, yes, doing a Uno reverse card and swapping places with her. It was easier to do a three-man hug if the big guy was out.
We stood like that for a while, with only the silence of the now truly dead Tartarus and the faint echoes of the explosion in the distance.
And then we heard a groan behind us. Rachel and I turned around, ready to continue the fight, but then we saw there was no need.
Even after getting shot point-blank with one of gaming's most powerful and iconic weapons, even being at the epicenter of a green sun, Hades was still alive, a testament of his divine nature… but was very possibly wishing he hadn't: the intens heat of the plasma had fused his flesh with the armor. In fact, the only part of him intact was his head, only able to moan in agony because the blast had vaporized his lungs.
Which was fine by me: I didn't need to hear him scream, only watch as I stomped towards him, murder in my face.
"M-monster… What kind of… M-monster…"
Before he could finish, I cut his fucking head off with the doomblade. Said head flew away, leaving his now decapitated body to fall in front of me. His body then began to smoke, to burn, but rather than simply disappear it flowed into me.
I did not feel any stronger, and if I had, the change was negligible at best, but that didn't matter: by absorbing Hades' essence and adding it to my own, I had offically taken over his post as the greek god of the dead
"You know what this means, right?" Rachel asked as she healed me. I could heal by myself, but her magic sped up the proccess even further.
I really didn't. Zeus and the others trying to get revenge on me despite saving their bacon? The sobering fact I was now the king of an afterlife by right of conquest? Or that somebody I did NOT want to know would want answers? Maybe all of them? At that moment, I didn't care.
"Let's get out of here." I replied before grabbing my helmet. To my annoyance, the crack was still there.
And so, because VEGA couldn't, Rachel brought us… right in front of the rest of the League and the Kents. Saying that they, even John, were dumbfounded by what they had just seen would undersell it.
They all just… stared, as Hades' now normal head turned into golden dust, and said dust flew into me.
And then Pausanias said what they all, except John, were thinking.
"Are you… a god?"
It was time to face the crowd.
Well, Hades' plans for revenge and/or world domination have been nipped at the bud… with a knife the size of a Gears of War's bicep, but even then he's given Slayer his first proper boss fight. And for the first time for a while, a reminder that the Doom Slayer we've been following is supposed to be a lucky guy wearing his skin, maybe even why the story changed after the fist chapters. Did I nerf him too much? I told you, I'm not good at writing detailed fights. As for the little tidbit about the crack, maybe it's foreshadowing, maybe it's symbolism, maybe it's proof that Hades was, indeed, the first true threat.
GrandlineBS said:
Doomslayer: I AM DOOM. And all making yourself bigger does is make bigger guts for me to rip out.
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Actually, Slayer was at least as big as Hades, even in his monster form, but yeah, the bigger they are, the easier they make it for him to rip their guts.
Izibuya said:
Awesome chapter. In regards to the fight scene I personally just don't care for most fight scenes, but this story has been good so far, so just do what you are most comfortable writing.
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Well, I tried my best. Hope it was enough for you guys.
PsyckoSama said:
The God of the Dead vs. The God of Death.
You know how this goes.
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With the latter taking the former's post the hard way.
Also, Hades was also the God of Wealth (okay, hidden Wealth, and maybe that's a retroactive addition from Pluto, but still).
Doccer said:
Yes I wanna know! But only if you are good at writing fight scenes.
Nothing so banal, he is a different beast altogether. He is the DoomSlayer!
So keep what you kill rules eh?
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Weedisdaboss said:
Yeah we need the PoV from the fight, if only to see Hades desperation
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J@ck said:
Overall, yes. Personally, No. 1) Because you just got him out of one battle and it feels sort of sour to put one borderline immediately after such a battle, even if it is with the Green Morons. It reminds me of the One Piece franchise where they kinda started making the battles stale for me. 2) The reveal of the Doom Slayers nature will already be epic on it's own and would need a whole chapter to properly explain with all the different reactions. 3) I only say, for overall being, yes because everyone else might want to see/read it and the no was just my personal opinion.
Edit: do what you feel is right.
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TictacYT said:
Well, he just killed a god, so he is either a god or something so powerful that he made Hades look like a chump.
Now i need a MC pov!
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Again, I took the POV route and hope it's good enough, and again, he ate him.
Scientistx said:
Doom Slayer: What? No though I killed my own home dimensions version of satan and a archangel both for being too much of a pain in the back
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And said Satan was also Yahweh after going crazy.
GrandlineBS said:
I mean his armor helps him eat demons… right absorbing them or some shit..he can do it naturally do to wierd alterations I might be misremembering it, either way technically demons are made up of energy and so are gods?
Correct me if Im wrong my brain is drunk
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It's a complicated thing, made even more convoluted by the fact Doom Slayer is from an entirely different universe altogether.
krahe said:
No, he's clearly a Dobahkin
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Godborn!
Ngamer11 said:
Does Doom Slayer actually have access to nuclear weapons and even more devastating weapons on his person? Or does he need to have it teleported to his location?
At this point, the gods are going to be shaking in their boots once they realize Doom Slayer is a god killer. Also, that should say 'than'.
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Nope, just an Argent-boosted BFG. She's not 'shoot-hole-into-Mars' level, but that would be overkill even in DC.
faraday said:
"… No, not quite, I'm more the thing that keeps them in check. What you have to consider is that for the forces of hell to exist 'The God' must condone them… and I wasn't okay with that."
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MWKillKenny84 said:
"No, but I killed enough that I could classify as one."
So it was Time for the Crucible.
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Barricade said:
"Cows eat grass. Lions prey on cows. Humans hunt Lions. Monsters devour humans. Gods and Demons play cruel games to all beneath them, callous to the suffering. Each is a predator to those below, and prey to those above. And where do I stand?
I am to Gods what an apex predator is to its prey. I Rip. I Tear. I am Death. I am the Doomslayer."
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He's that god who actually and genuinely understands mortals, and what they like, to put it in a certain way. Kinda like Kratos, except the repercussions of killing deities here are usually of the good kind, and he's a FPS protagonist rather than a hack'n'slash one.
As for the Crucible, we may see it, we may not.