Pain. A sensation that most souls have felt at least once in their lives. Physical or emotional, it doesn't matter. Very few could ever claim to have never experienced it.

One of those fortunate souls was Azrael. Although there were moments in her life when she was sad, such as the discourse between her brother Lucifer and their Father, she wouldn't have described it as miserable. Furthermore, regarding physical anguish, there'd never been a situation where she might be subject to it. After all, she was the Angel of Death, a privileged position that allowed her to avoid such things.

But as of now, Azrael's entire self was in pain. Her body was throbbing like a bruise. Which was fitting, considering that's how she looked. Azrael was battered and beaten like never before, from her tail to her torso and especially her head.

While most of it was due to her collisions with the front desk and the wall lined with liquors that sat behind it, she couldn't ignore the cause of it all.

BAM

It repeated in Azrael's mind. That armored fist made contact with her face. Soon followed by that same hand and its opposite wrapping itself around her throat. Squeezing it as tightly as they could, all the while, Azrael could barely squirm in resistance.

That...thing. A monster. Hidden by a metal shell. Possessing terrifyingly unseen power. Despite having the shape of a human man, it couldn't be. Never had there been a mortal so imposing.

"...What...sir?..."

A voice. It was broken. However, that was likely due to Azrael's fogged senses. Making it difficult for her to hear everything that was being said.

"It...stimulant...help...withstand...energy..."

A second voice. Azrael could tell it was different, even with her impaired hearing. Yet still, she couldn't decipher what they were talking about.

"Are...sure...what...worsens...condition?..."

"This...option...unless...coma...future..."

Try as she might, Azrael couldn't make sense of any of it. She just had to lie there, wherever there was, and listen. Yet to her surprise, the next thing she heard wasn't the continuation of the conversation. It was a series of digital or mechanical sounds, and when they ceased, she felt...

" *GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASP* "

With full desperation, Azrael did her best to pull in as much air as possible. The cause for such action was the immense energy that suddenly coursed through her. But a second ago, she felt weak and limp. Now, it felt as if her body was about to explode; every centimeter was enveloped in a feeling she couldn't describe.

Azrael's senses were sent into overdrive as well. Her vision returned, and her eyes darted in every direction without control. They were moving so fast that she only saw her surroundings as a blur. Her hearing was also fully restored, allowing her to hear the former voices completely rather than in parts.

"Samuel! She's convulsing!" A woman's voice, panicked in tone, exclaimed from somewhere nearby.

"Within expected estimations. I told you this would happen. There's no need for alarm." A man's voice, with an odd quality to it, calmly responded.

"What if she hurts herself in the restraints?" The woman asked, still concerned.

"Not possible. Her writhing cannot outpace the rate at which the stimulant is healing her. Even after she settles, it'll still be in effect. We have nothing to worry about so long as she survives." The man answered.

"S-Survives?! You mean it can kill her?!" The woman questioned in alarm.

"If she proves to be more closely related to the Demons than the Divine, then yes." The man confirmed. "However, all tests of the stimulant on Demons from Doom resulted in instantaneous expiration. If anything, these violent shakes and thrashes are positive signs." He informed.

"Sir, in the future, could you please share such information ahead of time? If only for the sake of my heart..." The woman requested with a heavy sigh.

"You have my word." The man promised.

By the end of that exchange, Azrael had calmed. Her body lay still, and her vision was finally clearing. Above her was an impressively clean metallic-looking ceiling. As for what was to her sides or front, she couldn't tell as her neck and head were restrained.

" Wha... *huff* What... *huff* Is going... *huff* " Azrael struggled to speak. Her lungs needed time to recover from that experience.

"Hm, an impressive response time." The man noted yet wasn't addressing her. "That could have something to do with your affiliation with your universe's Divine. Or it could be the standard outcome for those not comprised entirely of the same energy and matter as Doom's Demons." He stated.

"What is the stimulant's effect on humans, sir? If you don't mind my asking." The woman inquired.

"Nigh-identical to what you're seeing with the Angel of Death. However, in human subjects, it greatly reduced their life expectancy despite the temporary enhancements and improvements to their health and overall being." The man informed.

"Is that a possibility for her?" The woman asked.

"Unlikely. Even if she isn't the embodiment of death itself, as we suspect, she's not a human-turned-Demon like yourself or the others. She is directly related to your God. That alone puts her and her kind, such as Charlie, into a new category that we've yet to begin researching. If anything, should she suddenly die, that would give us definitive proof that they're not godly. But I don't think that will occur, given what we're seeing." The man answered.

...What...did he say? Azrael, the Angel of Death, was a fake? That's what she heard, at least. Whoever this person was, they were abundantly arrogant. To think that ANY would question HER validity as a child of a God and the position her Father bestowed upon her was as ridiculous as it was insulting!

"Excuse me." The man spoke again. This time, it appeared that his voice was aimed at Azrael. "By now, you should be conscious. And unless you've suddenly forgotten how to understand English, you've been listening to us speak. So, would you care to join the conversation? Or are you going to lay there and pretend you're not in your current situation?" He asked.

"...Why should I?" Azrael questioned without issue. Although she suppressed it flawlessly, she was surprised by how swiftly her condition had changed. "I know not where I am. I do not know who speaks to me. And, in what I believe to be a logical assumption, you are affiliated with that monster. Should that, more than anything else, prove true, that would make you my enemies. I will not grant you the honor of hearing my voice beyond these words." She stated.

In response, Azrael received laughter. Whoever this person was, they had the AUDACITY to find this humorous. Further increasing her disdain and hatred toward them.

"From how Charlie described you and what we observed, you seemed humble." The man began, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps. "But sadly, it appears that ego is not exclusively a trait of humanity. I had hoped, even after that disastrous first encounter, that we could move forward and proceed with civility. Yet another instance proving I must air on the side of caution rather than placing any confidence in those I haven't a total assurance of. The third to date." He said as the footsteps came to a stop.

When the walking ceased, a new sight filled Azrael's vision, replacing the former ceiling she stared upward at. An automaton of some sort. That is how she'd described what she was looking at. It returned her gaze with its own through a single blue optic.

"Listen. Do not talk." The man's voice came from the machine. Once again, he was audacious enough to do something such as issue a command to Azrael. "I've done this introduction many times; I'm tired of it. I plan to do it only once more when we broadcast a message throughout your Brother's domain to announce our existence. So, I'm going to give you the bullet points. Pay attention, please." He requested before proceeding. "I am Samuel Hayden. I am a human. My brain is inside this robotic body due to cancer. I am the leader of an organization known as the UAC. Through a series of events that I promise you will be informed of later, we became aware of what we believed to be other realities. Again, that will be expanded upon later. Myself, the woman in my company, and my hyper-aggressive associate who punched you in the face are trying our best to form a peaceful and diplomatic relationship with you and everyone in your universe.

Now, I know that everything I'm saying must sound like the ramblings of a lunatic. I am also aware that you have every reason to want to harm or even kill us for what happened back in the hotel. But I beg of you, please, put aside everything you're feeling and what you want to do. Abandon instinctual reactions and wait until you have all the information. If you still wish to destroy us by the time we give you all the details, I will allow you to do so. I am that confident in what we have to present. All I ask is you humor the perceived psychopath currently speaking to you. Give him a chance to show there is FAR more than what is visible at a surface level. If for no other reason, do so because we've treated your injuries. Even in your current state of restraint, that should tell you we don't have ill intent." He told her, pleading by the end.

During all of that, Azrael's expression changed. When Samuel began to speak, she still despised him. From her view, he was nothing short of an ass. One of those greater-than-thou types who believed they knew better than everyone around them.

But in the latter half, Samuel's voice became different. It slowly lost its commanding tone, and, especially by the end, it sounded almost desperate. Additionally, his volume lowered. With that change came an easily detected exhaustion.

So, at the start, Azrael looked at him with a glare that could pierce the Heavens themselves. Her feelings and thoughts were cemented in the belief that this man was an egomaniac. While she didn't suddenly trust him, that'd be absurd, as Samuel conveyed with great exasperation; there was far more to this than what should be believed. Leading her to look at him with astonishment and curiosity rather than seething anger.

That tired voice, which sounded like it carried the burdens of Creation, reminded Azrael of her Brother Gabriel. For a brief moment, her sibling flashed in her mind. That, as peculiar as it may seem, was enough to convince her to take a risk. To give this stranger the one chance he wanted and begged for.

"...Samuel, was it?" Azrael inquired after a few minutes of silence had gone by.

"Yes. That is my name." Samuel confirmed while nodding.

"In exchange for being a willing audience to whatever presentation you have prepared, I have a request that must be fulfilled. I need to know the status of my Niece. You mentioned her. Charlie. She was wrapped in my body when your associate struck me. Is she alright?" Azrael asked.

"She's currently with the others. Getting them up to speed alongside Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb. I assume you know them." Samuel answered.

"More the former, less the latter," Azrael replied. "Is...that thing with them?" She inquired.

"No. He's currently restrained. Held in place by the system I used to end his assault on your person. Until everything is calm and all of us are on the same page, I felt his presence and involvement would only be problematic." Samuel responded.

"You'd say such things about it? Despite regarding it as a partner in some capacity?" Azrael questioned, finding that odd.

"To begin our transparency with one another, my relationship with that man is a fragile necessity. That applies to it from his end, too. We've agreed to acknowledge the other's insights, skills, and expertise. However, we constantly butt heads. In return for following my lead on this, I had to agree that he reserved the right to react to a situation as he felt best. Even if, as we've seen, it could ruin what we're trying to accomplish." Samuel explained.

"But...why would it do that? If you're both trying to achieve the same goal, that would be in disservice to that objective. No, more than that, it's the exact opposite. You say you wish for a peaceful and diplomatic relationship, but such an attack could be interpreted as nothing else than a declaration of war." Azrael pressed, still failing to understand.

"Forgive me, Angel of Death. But was it not you who bared their fangs first?" Samuel asked, ensuring to avoid sounding accusatory.

"I...did. I will admit that." Azrael acknowledged. "However, that thing is somehow impervious to my power. It didn't die. It could've stood there and taken it. So, why did it react with violence?" She inquired.

"Unfortunately, due to his silence, I cannot answer that. Based on my observations, research, and experience with my partner, I can only offer the most accurate guess. Is that acceptable?" Samuel said, ending with a question.

"It is." Azrael approved.

"At that moment, you were a threat. You were not the Angel of Death. You were not Charlie's Aunt. You were no longer the individual for whom he needed to show respect or courtesy. However, he never intended to kill you. Even with his affinity for being blunt, he isn't mindless. He just needed to be sure that you wouldn't try and attack him anymore. He's VERY strict with such matters. If ANYTHING, even if it can't harm him, shows itself as antagonistic or simply problematic, he will either subdue or kill it. Unfortunately, as he demonstrated, I don't believe my associate has any experience dealing with those who don't require that level of action. I'm not entirely sure he's even capable of holding back to what would be considered a normal level. But I do promise, as absurd as it may sound, that he was trying to be gentle." Samuel told her.

Now, it was Azrael's turn to laugh. Despite sounding jovial, she couldn't hide the uneasiness behind it from Samuel.

"THAT was gentle? Truly? My, how frightening..." Azrael commented, impressively maintaining her composure. "One more question before I fall silent and allow you to start drowning me in more words. Can I meet it? Regardless of what may change after I listen to what you say, I can only feel comfortable associating myself with you or allowing my Niece and her friends to do the same if I can assess it for myself. To be clear, I can examine a soul's memories. That is what I would do. That way, there can be no lies or deception. I would be able to know for certain the beast's nature." She explained.

Another period of silence came. Even without a face to read, Azrael could see that her request to examine the armored monster caught Samuel by surprise. Or perhaps, it wasn't a surprise. Rather, he was contemplating the danger of such a situation.

"...There is only one way that can be done," Samuel said. His voice now carried a foreboding tone. "My associate is immensely secretive. He holds his past so tightly to his chest, even in death, I doubt he'd let it go. So, to examine his memories as you desire, he must remain restrained. I will need time to ensure that he does. Is that acceptable?" He inquired.

"Yes," Azrael responded.

"Then let us proceed," Samuel said before taking a few steps back. "This will take a while, so you should be comfortable." He added.

Afterward, Azrael's restraints were retracted into the table she lay on, allowing her to move into an upright position. From there, the lecture would commence.

Elsewhere, In A Different Facility...

"How's everybody holding up?" Charlie asked, her gaze fixated on her friends.

Each of them held in their hand a water bottle. The content of each differed, as everyone had consumed a different amount. They drank their provided beverages throughout the tour Charlie, Angel Dust, and Cherri had given them. With the guidance and permission of Samuel Hayden, of course.

The lapse between Samuel and Olivia's arrival at the hotel and the present was roughly three hours. During this, the trio took the others to two facilities, one of which Cherri had been shown during her last visit. There, they were exposed to myriad corpses. All of the foul, horrible, disgusting things were preserved in tubes or actively examined by medical drones.

As for the other destination, that was the building where the Helix Stone was kept. While Samuel prohibited them from touching it in ANY capacity, they could still examine it and the other artifacts stored there. The bulk of the items were tablets and scriptures, some disturbingly carved onto stretched-out tapestries of flesh that somehow still bled. Thankfully, there were drones that, when given a simple command, could translate any text into audio so they could understand.

For the most part, what the group heard was as appalling as the objects themselves. Concerningly detailed practices of sacrifices, forced transmogrification, and torture. However, a few texts mentioned a specific figure. Sadly, these were either incomplete or all that Samuel had in his possession, meaning there wasn't much overall that could be learned.

Yet, even with the scarcity, the group still easily deduced to whom the Demons of Doom referred. A figure clad in unbreakable armor. Wielding an arsenal of weapons to dispatch the hordes. Within him, a soul that burned with the unending fires of Armageddon, the Apocalypse itself manifested.

That was the armored man. Doomguy, as Charlie, Angel Dust, and Cherri revealed. Although, the Demons called him Slayer. An appropriate name since, from what they could gleam, it seemed as though this "Slayer" sought to drive Doom and its inhabitants to extinction.

But again, the information on the Slayer was either incomplete or all Samuel had. Hopefully, among many other things, that could be given greater clarity later. Regarding the present, everyone needed to process what they had learned and discovered. Some were taking it more easily than others.

"How am I holding up, Charlie?" Alastor inquired with a raised brow. "If I may be honest, I'm feeling betrayed." He admitted.

"Oh, come on, Al!" Vagatha exclaimed with an irritated expression. Immediately jumping to her girlfriend's defense. "Charlie couldn't have come clean about this over the phone! There's no way ANYONE could've MMPH-"

Alastor suddenly placed his glove-covered fingers onto Vagatha's lips, effectively silencing her.

"Vaggie, dear. It would be best if you let people finish their thoughts more often. That temper of yours leads to SO many of these awkward moments." Alastor told her before raising his cane and pointing it at Angel Dust. "I wasn't referring to our lovely princess; she only learned about all this today alongside Cherri. But there stands Angel. HE'S known about this for two WEEKS. All this fascinating information was bouncing around in that sex-crazed head of his for fourteen days, and he didn't have the courtesy to share any of it. That, I would say, is inexcusable rudeness." He clarified.

"Ex-fucking-CUSE me!?" Angel Dust shouted, deeply offended. "Are you fucking stupid, Al?! Why would I have blabbed about ANY of this?! Have you still not gotten through your head the SIZE of this shit?! All of the questions this raises?! This isn't some street-level gossip about someone cheating on somebody! This is the REAL shit!" He stressed.

"Yes! Precisely, Angel! The REAL shit, as you so eloquently put it!" Alastor agreed with a clap and one of his trademark smiles. "This is the single most EXCITING thing to EVER happen to ANY of us! Or to anyone else, for that matter! The implications! The potential lies told to us by our supposed God! How many more secrets are there left to be uncovered? Will they lead to more questions? More shocking reality-changing discoveries? The possibilities are endless!" He cheered, nearly shouting with glee.

"Of course. Of course. The fucking strawberry psychopath is getting a kick out of this. He doesn't have an existential crisis like the rest of us. Instead, he wants to throw a party!" Angel Dust exclaimed while throwing his hands up in defeat.

"Yes! Once again, that's precisely it!" Alastor replied with a snap of his fingers. "You'd think that we've learned everything! Seen everything! Know all that can be done or will be done! But no! There's an even bigger Creation for us all! And I am overtaken by the wonder that it promises!" He carried on.

"Uh, dude." Cherri chimed in, getting his attention. "You...saw the same things we did, right? The dead monsters? The still-bleeding flesh with writing on it? You think THAT stuff is exciting?" She questioned.

"No! Not at all!" Alastor denied, only to place a hand on his chin in thought afterward. "Hmm...well, let me be more careful with my words. All of what we've learned is fascinating. I don't believe you can disagree with me on that. Also, my excitement isn't for those beasts and all the horrible things they get up to. Doom, as it is called, is unquestionably awful and maddening from the sound of it. However, Doom can't be all there is. Expand your minds, people! Consider how many universes there might be! How many other Heavens and Hells exist without this knowledge we've been lucky enough to receive! It could be a few, a lot, or maybe even infinite! That is what I'm so over the moon about." He explained.

"I...can't believe I'm about to say this..." Vagatha muttered, accompanied by a sigh and a look of disbelief. "But...Alastor has a point. Although we shouldn't gloss over Doom and what we've learned about it, it does lend itself to the possibility of there being more. And hopefully, if there is more, it's nowhere near as bad as this." She said.

"Thank you, Vaggie," Alastor responded with a touching amount of sincerity before returning his focus to the group. "You see? There IS a reason to be excited! Honestly, I can't think of anyone who wouldn't be!" He exclaimed.

"Right here." Husk immediately interjected while shooting his hand up into the air. "This guy. The one who is clutching his water bottle as if his life depends on it. NOTHING is exciting about ANY of this. And like Angel said, you'd have to be a PSYCHOPATH to think otherwise." He stated.

"Oh no! A party pooper!" Alastor gasped in jest. Even going so far as to put a hand over his mouth in feigned shock.

"Al, please. For once in your life, be serious..." Husk requested with a look of desperation. "We've barely scratched the surface here. Who knows how much else that robot man wants to show us? Think of all the twisted crap that makes our Hell look like a preschool class that we still don't know about. Plus, there's all of the shit regarding God, who might be OUR God and not THE God. He might not be a God at all. And we still haven't a clue how these monsters work. We've only seen corpses and have been told what little Charlie and the others know. There's...so much to take in..." He said while sitting down, a hand now placed on his head.

"There, there." Nifty comforted him by gently rubbing his back with one hand. She, much like Alastor, was unreasonably calm about this. "I think that both of you make sense. There's SO much to think about now. But doing so all at once can easily make us exhausted. We should work through it, step by step, until it's not so suffocating." She suggested.

"I agree wholeheartedly," Vagatha said with a nod. "The best place to start would be the one thing we can easily get the most immediate answers for. So, let's figure that out through the process of elimination. Until...Samuel, I think, was his name, gets back to us. We're probably not going to learn much more about Doom and its Demons. The same can be said about these facilities, why he researched Doom, etc. All that remains after that are two things we've yet to talk about. Samuel himself, and Doomguy." She stated.

"Ah, right. The unstoppable tank of a human being who nearly choked out Azrael. You know, the Angel of fucking Death? Yeah. Sure. Let's shoot the shit by discussing him." Husk replied. Even though he was freaking the fuck out, his standard of sarcasm remained.

"To be fair, he WAS defending himself." Charlie, of ALL people, said in Doomguy's defense.

When that happened, everyone, even Alastor, looked at Charlie in stunned silence.

"What? He was." Charlie repeated, unsure as to why they reacted like that.

"Uh...yeah...that is true..." Angel Dust agreed. As would anyone else. "But...Charlie...Azrael's your Aunt...aren't you a LITTLE mad that he..."

"Laid her ass out?" Cherri chimed in.

"Made a crater in the building with her body?" Husk added.

"Yeah. What they said." Angel Dust concluded while pointing to both.

"You'd think so. But as we've been saying so far, we know so little. During my initial visit, I was given a small peek into Doomguy's past. He allowed me to see some of his scars. They were only on his hand and forearm, but there were still so many. The scariest part? Quite a few were recent. Not so much that you could assume they were from a day or more ago. But compared to the marks nearly faded yet still visible, there was a glaring difference. I...don't want to imagine what the rest of his body looks like. Just the thought makes me sick to my stomach. And all of those injuries came from one source. Doom.

Then, there's the reason behind his silence. From what I've seen and been told, he isn't deaf. And yet, he refuses to say anything. No, it's more than that; he doesn't make ANY noise. My best guess would be trauma, and who could blame him? Consider this. Someone he cared about, maybe EVERYONE he cared about, was taken by those Demons. Given the things we just learned that they do to people, that isn't impossible. I'd be willing to bet that once, Doomguy was normal. He had friends and family, like anyone else. And he lost all of that to creatures who go beyond simple torture and sadism. They...might've been turned into monsters themselves. Doomguy could've been forced to kill people he knew and loved to survive. If any of what I'm proposing is true, even just a little bit, can ANY of us blame him for his behavior? Because I can't. I just can't." Charlie told them, tearing up a little by the end.

"Yeah. That's a damn good point." Angel Dust agreed as Vagatha moved closer to Charlie to console her. "I can't say I've gotten any glimpses into the big guy's past myself. But there's something that all of us can tell. The guy's got some training. Our best bet's military, given the hardware he's rocking. But it could go beyond that, maybe spec-ops or some other elite shit. Or, the wild card option, he was a cop. He's walking along his beat, doing his patrol, and suddenly everything goes to Hell. No joke there, I promise. What I'm getting at is that the big guy knows how to handle himself in a fight. That might've been the only reason he survived. But thinking about a situation like that, where everyone around you is getting ripped to pieces, and you're the only one managing to avoid that, it's a whole new level of depressing." Angel Dust suggested.

"Still, the bastard scares me," Husk confessed. "The mute thing isn't the hurdle for me. It's that we can't tell what's going on. One, he's got a helmet hiding his face. Two, he doesn't seem like the type to express his feelings all that much with his body, so body language is out of the question. Three, which is a combination of one and two, we can't see when he's about to knock someone on their ass again. That man walked calmly toward Death Incarnate, didn't flinch when she tried to drop him, and then punched her with what I assume was his lightest jab. How can we feel safe around him when he could obliterate us with a backhand in the blink of an eye?" He pointed out.

"A legitimate fear. One that I hope can be overcome in due time."

That sudden new voice caught everyone by surprise. They were so focused on their conversation that they hadn't noticed the arrival of a new trio. At the front was the man of the hour in many ways, Samuel Hayden. To his left, the Sinner known as Olivia Mayberry. To his right, slithering beside him, was Azrael.

"Auntie!" Charlie shouted when her eyes fell upon her Aunt, followed by her rushing over.

With a smile and open arms, Azrael welcomed the overjoyed embrace of her Miece. In the seconds that came after, no one spoke. Letting these two enjoy the relief of knowing the other was well.

"I'm so sorry." Azrael apologized once they ended their hug. "I wanted to protect you. I let that impulse overtake my reason. And in doing so, I allowed you to get hurt." She said.

"No! Not at all!" Charlie denied that with a frown. "All I got was a small bump on my head, which has already been taken care of." She told her.

"ALL you got?" Husk questioned while pointing at her. "With the force that struck Azrael and you, you're lucky your skull didn't shatter when you hit the ground. You should've gotten WAY worse." He stressed.

"Husk is right. You shouldn't make light of my error." Azrael agreed.

"Your error?" Alastor questioned, finding that interesting. "Does this mean everything's been smoothed over?" He asked.

"May I?" Samuel requested, wanting to speak on Azrael's behalf.

"Please, do." Azrael encouraged.

"The short answer to that question is no." Samuel began. "As for the long one, Azrael feels confident she can trust Olivia and me after hearing all I needed to say. However, regarding my silent partner, she needs to confront him. In her own words, she's going to examine his memories. That's the only way she can trust him, which is understandable." He informed them.

"Uh, Sammy? I don't think the big guy will be too thrilled about having his mind probed like that. I know you've got him locked up somewhere, but he might break loose when that starts to go down." Angel Dust said.

"As odd as it may be to hear, especially after everything that's happened, my associate isn't incapable of being hindered. Nor is he immune to being harmed or killed." Samuel replied.

"Alright. Nope. Calling bullshit on that." Cherri defied. "Prove it, Sam. You can't say some contradictory shit like that and expect us to accept it." She challenged.

"I can give you two examples. However, the second will require us to visit him." Samuel started before continuing. "Regarding the first, it happened long before we ever came into contact with your Hell. It was immediately after we became acquainted. One of the facilities, the foundry, was on the brink of total failure and collapse. Had it been allowed to go into meltdown, this entire complex would've been wiped off the face of Mars. Including him as well." He revealed.

"If that's true, how come the Demons haven't ever tried that? Surely they could manage it." Husk asked.

"You can't kill a building," Samuel answered. "To elaborate further, any brutish action on his part would've hastened the foundry's implosion. But be assured, if the foundry were screaming and trying to rip his face off while spewing caustic bile, it would've been dead in seconds." He added.

"Good to know," Husk responded, needing no further explanation.

"With that out of the way, we should see him," Samuel stated as he turned around. "Follow me." He instructed.

Doing as they were told, everyone trailed after the mechanical man. Samuel would guide them to the tram station of the facility they were in and have it take the group back to the office building. However, they didn't return to his office. Instead, he led them to the Slipgate.

"A question before I input the coordinates," Samuel spoke while turning his head to look at the others behind him. "Is anyone too sensitive to extreme cold? Is the tolerance of negative temperature the same as humans in your universe, or is it improved due to your infernal nature?" He asked.

"We...should be fine. Right, guys?" Charlie answered, followed by an inquiry for the group.

"Don't worry. If it becomes too much to bear, I can help shield us from the cold." Azrael offered.

"As can I. Remember, I am a gifted Arcane user." Alastor reminded, also lending his services.

"Very good," Samuel said, now inputting the coordinates into the Slipgate. "Still, I'd advise you to prepare yourselves." He warned, followed by the portal's appearance.

Mars, Unknown Location...

An endless gust blew a never-ending fall of powder onto the landscape. The normally iconic visage of Mars, hidden beneath a thick covering of ice and snow. Even here, on the crimson sphere, there was a northern territory as inhospitable as Earth's. Perhaps, it was colder.

Unlike the rest of the complex, built far away in better conditions, nearly nothing stood in this frozen terrain. Why would the UAC have to construct anything in this sub-zero wasteland? Sadly, that question for the curious souls who arrived here would not be answered upon their entry. For what greeted them as they exited their gateway was only ruin.

The remnants of a facility. The only estimation its visitors could form of the location's previous visage. Such a deduction was based on the massively sized chunks of metal and other building materials surrounding them. An explosion, that's what it had to be. Nothing else could reduce such a place to rubble.

Yet what blast was capable of this destruction? That is what the visitors wondered. As they moved through the snow covering the remains, their minds tried to paint a picture. But try as they might, they couldn't fathom the truth. So, as they continued their trek through the snow, one of the visitors mustered the bravery to ask their guide.

"What happened here?" Vagatha inquired as she walked beside Charlie, who was directly behind the group's leader.

"Someone was killed," Samuel replied, keeping his gaze pointed ahead.

"Someone dying...caused this?..." Vagatha pressed, finding that hard to believe.

"He was...special. I cannot offer more than that right now. It'd take far too long." Samuel said. "However, I can tell you that his death was avoidable. It never would've come to this had that boarish brute listened to me." He informed them.

Whoa. With that last sentence, a sudden change in Samuel's voice occurred. From his usual composed neutrality to abundantly apparent anger. That was something that only Olivia had seen. It was during that argument between Samuel and Doomguy in his office after her encounter with the Helix Stone.

"Did...Doomguy cause this person's death? Directly, to be clear." Vagatha hesitantly asked, voicing the question they all shared.

"Yes," Samuel answered, not needing to think about it. "But we'll see if you share that opinion when you eventually learn the story." He added.

That was the end of the questions. It was apparent to everyone that this subject needed to wait. Luckily, the reason why they came here finally entered their view. Atop a circular platform in the middle of this former facility was Doomguy. On both sides of the platform, there were tall apparatuses conducting electricity.

Yet there were more details to be observed than this. When the group noticed them, it brought them to an immediate stop. First, Doomguy. His body was heavily covered in snow, indicating he'd be out here for a long time.

Second, the tall machines that were next to him. The electricity that coursed through them was being sent into Doomguy. Furthermore, his arms were pulled backward above his head, and his legs seemed limp beneath him. If the others didn't know who this was, they'd say it was a corpse displayed amid the tundra.

"What the fuck?!" Angel Dust questioned, the first one of the group to do so. "Sammy? What the Hell, man?! Why's he like that?!" He asked.

"If you'll recall." Samuel began as he approached the incapacitated Doomguy. "To remove him from the hotel, without giving him a chance to move, was to, in a sense, teleport him. This was accomplished via a system I created referred to as Tether. It allows me to pull individuals back to a set location regardless of where they are. However, to do this, an immense amount of power is required.

Additionally, once the connection has been established and energy can be transmitted, I have to activate Tether to initiate the action. So, if I desired, I could refrain from initiating the process. This allows me to send all that electricity through the connected device or devices and straight into the person on the receiving end. I've never had a reason to do something so cruel. It'd kill ANY human. Except...you." He explained, taking a brief pause as he reached the armored man.

For a few seconds, there was silence. Everyone watched as Samuel and Doomguy stared at one another. Despite no words being spoken, an exchange was still being had. But soon, the former resumed speaking.

"When that amount of electricity courses through you, the worst that happens is your muscles contract. There might be some slight burning. You may feel a little hot. But I'm sure, given your time in Doom, a little heat is something you're used to. But still, there'd be no pain for someone such as yourself. If there is, it's insignificant compared to what you've dealt with. The biggest issue is that contraction I mentioned. It's so severe you can't do so much as blink your eyes. All you can do is stare. Which, to be fair, is what you mostly do when you're not destroying everything in your vicinity." Samuel told him and the others.

"Samuel! Stop!" Charlie exclaimed with a VERY angry expression. "This is too far! He doesn't deserve this!" She scolded.

"Hm, who can say?" Samuel questioned, at last pulling himself away from Doomguy. "Until Azrael examines his memories, we won't know the truth. And if she is to do that safely, he must be restrained like this. We can't take any chances." He said.

In reaction, Doomguy began twitching. It was small, barely detectable. But Samuel noticed.

"Once again, you exceeded expectations." Samuel praised him, only to then increase the output of the towers. "Unfortunately, you will not be moving anytime soon." He informed him before looking over his shoulder. "Azrael, whenever you're ready." He beckoned.

Although having issues with this treatment, like her Niece, Azrael remained quiet. She slithered up to Doomguy in silence, stopping once she was as close as she could be. Fortunately for him, Azrael wouldn't need to remove the helmet. With a hand on his chest and her head resting against his helm to steady herself, she gently brought their souls together.

With such ease, an ethereal link was established. All that remained was to venture into whatever awaited. Leaving the others behind in the corporeal reality.