A marker busily scribbled upon the surface of a whiteboard. Nearly identical to a classroom, the Goetias' living space became. The family sat on the main couch, with Octavia separating her Mother and Father by being between them. The members of I.M.P. were seated either on the floor or in one of the chairs present. The staff either stood or also sat on the floor.

Doomguy was their silent lecturer. For today's lesson, he wanted to cover the influence the Demons of Doom had on other lifeforms. This hadn't been discussed during the one about their powers and abilities as this was an entirely different subject. For example, an Imp's fireball was not the same as what its presence, regardless of its state of being, could do to its surrounding environment.

Even a Lost Soul left to wander a hallway was dangerous. Not because it would violently scream and explode upon seeing a potential target for possession. But due to its existence being mostly ethereal. The Lost Soul, more than ANY other creature Doomguy had seen, could contribute to dimensional distortion the most.

Sure, Archviles and Summoners could wield the Arcane in many ways. But when a Lost Soul exploded, it was a violent burst capable of tearing apart the space around it. However, the window of such destruction was very small. Any higher-class Demon of Doom would have to act quickly to escalate the disturbance to a rift or portal.

Then there was the influence of Doom's denizens. Samuel had mentioned this a while back to Charlie and the others. Even when not directly targeting a soul, the Demons could influence its thoughts and emotions. People were more susceptible to irrational thoughts and behavior, violent outbursts and tendencies, or paranoia and panic attacks when near the creatures.

Every Demon, as already established, was a manifestation of Doom itself. So, in short, they were evil incarnate. Their very existence brought with it trouble and strife. Again, ignoring the violence and death they could cause, this made any Demon a "shoot on sight" situation. None could be allowed to live for longer than they already had to avoid more problems.

Then, there was the impact of Doom, not its Demons. Whether through objects and structures like Gore Nests or the encroaching of the realm onto another reality, Doom's presence caused many disturbances. The most notable was the appearance and development of flesh, blood, muscles, bones, and organs in the environment. It was as if Doom sought to absorb everything, an ever-growing mass of meat with an insatiable hunger to consume and grow.

Everyone paid attention as Doomguy continued to write and draw all of this information in text and images. The more studious members of the group ensured to take as many notes as possible. Yet, among them, there was one who wasn't paying attention. In truth, he hadn't been all too attentive these past few days as much weighed on his mind.

"I don't think I've ever seen Octavia so engrossed in anything." Stolas thought, observing the focused expression of his Daughter. "Even Stella has shown an unprecedented level of interest. I didn't think she could ever care for anything unrelated to our societal status." He went on, releasing a sigh as he looked down at his lap. "Father is no different. He's displayed more intrigue towards Doomguy and his knowledge than I've ever witnessed, regardless of whether it was with me or otherwise." He concluded, his hands lightly gripping his pants.

So many issues, anxieties, and insecurities filled Stolas's mind. Slowly, the room around him was blocked out. His vision didn't falter, yet it still became black. Stolas progressively lost himself in the depths of his mind...

...

...Stolas...

"GAH!" Stolas shouted in alarm, his arms flailing wildly when he did.

SMACK

"OW!"

That sharp noise and exclamation quickly brought Stolas to his senses. Unintentionally, purely by accident, he hit his Daughter in his startled state. The contact made wasn't harsh or particularly painful. Any stinging sensation it caused faded relatively quickly.

However, everyone, including Doomguy, looked at him in surprise. They were about to start asking questions about the information, so Stolas's action was especially jarring.

"Stolas, WHAT the FUCK is wrong with you?!" Stella questioned.

"Did...Did someone say my name?..." Stolas asked. He was sure he heard a voice speak to him. That's the whole reason he was panicked.

"NO, you rampant jackass," Stella answered with an eye roll. "YOU fell asleep and were jolted awake by a dream. And, while waking, you managed to slap your Daughter." She told him.

"I...I what?" Stolas questioned before looking at his child. "Octavia, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Don't." Octavia cut him off. However, her tone wasn't cold or angry; instead, it was disappointed. "Look, Dad. I know these past few days have been stressful. But could you try not to fall asleep during this?" She requested.

"But...I didn't..." Stolas stuttered, earning him another eye roll and a scoff from his spouse.

"Stolas. You're in a room full of people. You can't deny it." Stella stated. "Just admit that you dozed off. Honestly, it's the least shameful thing you've done." She added.

Looking around, Stolas only found gazes that, while not hostile like his Wife's, still said all they needed to. Everyone was certain Stolas had fallen asleep. His head had drooped. His eyes had been closed. And the way he flailed about indicated sudden panic that couldn't have been caused by anything in the room.

Feeling as though there was no point in trying to convince the others, Stolas slowly rose from his seat and walked away.

"Sorry about him." Stella apologized, speaking to Doomguy. "It seems as if Stolas is truly incapable of not making mistakes. Again, I'm deeply regretful about his behavior." She told him.

In reply, Doomguy waved his hand to dismiss the whole thing. Although he didn't have the full context, he knew there was tension in the Goetia family, which took a toll on the poor man. Briefly slipping into unconsciousness was nothing to make a big deal out of. With that settled, everyone returned to the lesson at hand.

Meanwhile, On Mars...

"I'm sorry we don't have more to offer." Samuel apologized to Lucifer, who sat across from him in his office. "We're still focused on repairs and strengthening the entire complex. In the event, our enemies figure out a way to enact another invasion." He said.

Ever since five days ago, when the Devil and Doctor first met, they had nearly been inseparable. Of course, at the start, it was mainly due to Samuel needing to fill Lucifer in on all the details and get him up to speed. But once that was done and the two men began conversing on other matters, they quickly formed a respect for one another.

Lucifer admired and was fascinated by Samuel's intellect and his creations. From Argent Energy to the countless automatons, weapons, gadgets, Etc. Everything the robotic man had to show and tell was amazing. No mortal in Lucifer's reality could compare.

On the other side, Samuel found Lucifer to be pleasant company. Well-spoken. A sharp mind. And a seemingly endless fountain of information that helped contribute to the ongoing research and investigation of both realities and what was truly happening. There were next to no questions Lucifer couldn't answer. So, any back and forth between them was an exchange of intellectuals.

This doesn't imply that Olivia stood off to the side like an awkward observer. If anything, she encouraged Samuel to put his focus on Lucifer for the time being. Olivia wanted, as ever, to prove she was reliable and could contribute. So, she attended to Doomguy's suit reconstruction and weaponry while the Devil and Doctor talked the days away.

"Oh, please. Don't apologize." Lucifer replied, happily sipping his cup of coffee. "Do you KNOW how refreshing it is to have a NORMAL conversation? With regular beverages in a mostly casual setting? I get it; I'm the Devil. This isn't new information. But would it kill ANYONE outside my family to not be so annoyingly stuffy and worried that I'll torture them if they blink without my permission? It's EXHAUSTING." He confessed.

"I'd assume the role of Hell's ruler would be the most relaxing job one could have. From an outsider's perspective, you have no higher power to answer to except God. Hell is your domain; you may do with the wicked as you please." Samuel said.

"Oh, those were the GLORY days." Lucifer began. "We're talking before Old Testament or ANYTHING like it. Someone shows up, is either scared, or tries to run their mouth, and I got to have a field day with them. It was WONDERFUL." He continued before releasing a sigh. "But then, as more people showed up, we got word from DEAR OLD DAD that I needed to change the status quo. No more traditional torture devices and ENJOYING myself. Now we had to customize Hell to make it feel more natural for the Sinners. Let me tell you; there were a LOT of unhappy Demons when that first started." He finished.

"A strange change, admittedly. Did your Father ever explain the reasoning?" Samuel inquired.

"PFFT. NO." Lucifer said with wide eyes and a smile, tightly gripping his coffee cup so it wouldn't spill over. "My Gather is THE most hands-off person EVER to exist! Oh sure, he'll make a decision every few millennia. But, as Gabriel might put it, our Dad doesn't get involved unless necessary. He doesn't want our free will to feel false. So, unless all of Creation is on fire, Dad will probably remain in that tower of his." He explained.

"Speaking of, any development?" Samuel asked.

"No. But that is a good sign, believe it or not." Lucifer answered. "Dad rarely lets anyone into the tower. So, for Gabriel to have gotten invited immediately is to our benefit. Sure, we haven't heard or seen anything else happen there since he entered. But still, Gabriel's having a one-on-one with our Father. At the very least, that tells us good ol' Papa is aware of the situation." He told him.

"It'd be far easier if God sat down with all of us for that conversation. Although we're attending to other matters, we're doing nothing significant until Gabriel returns. Katie can't proceed with her broadcast because it'd be pointless should God decide to become involved." Samuel stated.

"Welcome to most of my life. Great, isn't it?" Lucifer sarcastically asked with a smirk. "But enough of my Father being a proper prick about these things. I'd like to discuss the request you made." He said.

"Are there issues?" Samuel assumed, receiving a shake of the head.

"No, no. Nothing like that." Lucifer assured. "Besides, if Vox turns out to be a dumbass, I can take his factory from him and hand it over to you." He added.

"Would that not cause conflict?" Samuel inquired.

"Only with the Vs. But what are they going to do? Kill me?" Lucifer responded with a smile, amused by the thought. "However, if things go how I expect them to, we should hear back from Vox before the day is done." He confidently stated.

"What about his associates?" Samuel asked.

"One of two things will happen." Lucifer began, holding up a pair of fingers. "Vox behaves and keeps his trap shut, or he shares our meeting with Valentino and Velvette. If the second occurs, it won't be a problem. I didn't say anything compromising or specific about why I wanted his resources. It might also work to our advantage as Valentino, needing to be in control, will start probing his connections to see what I'm up to. This will cause a stir; everyone will start talking, and it'll help to keep the public's minds occupied until we're ready to reveal Doom to them." He answered.

"Won't people try to be nosey?" Samuel inquired.

"Definitely. But it'd be like a nature documentary. I'll continue going about my business, and they'll stay as FAR away from me as possible while trying to catch a glimpse of something. If they get any closer, then they're fucked." Lucifer replied.

"Ah. I should've expected." Samuel said with a light chuckle. "Is there anything else we need to talk about?" He asked.

"Well, there IS something that's been bothering me." Lucifer admitted. "I apologize ahead of time if this is overstepping. But why are you keeping what we're doing a secret from Doomguy? Surely, he'd like to know what you plan to do." He inquired.

"My associate and I have always had an uneasy partnership. After recent events, of which you've been informed, that tension has grown. Then I learned he'd kept something equally important as this from me. I don't feel like talking to him right now. Besides, this has no bearing on our objectives. Truthfully, if we can succeed, we'll have an invaluable ally. That, combined with my partner's secrecy, will make us even." Samuel explained.

"Hm, fair enough." Lucifer accepted, followed by a sip of coffee. "Honestly, I'm quite excited. From how you've described this...Vega, was it? It sounds incredible. Actual sentience that was created through artificial means. I've never seen such a thing." He said.

"He." Samuel corrected before continuing. "And yes, Vega is remarkable. My greatest achievement. I...can't describe how I'll feel when he's back with us. I don't know if you could relate. I doubt you've ever experienced the loss of someone dear to you." He told him.

"Unfortunately, such a thing isn't possible with my kin. Sorry." Lucifer apologized with a sympathetic expression.

"No need for apology," Samuel assured. "If anything, I am indebted to you. Without your aid, it wouldn't be until far later that this reunion would be possible." He admitted.

"No, please, don't worry about it," Lucifer responded, smiling as he did. "You and Doomguy revealing Doom's existence to us is something I'll feel indebted to for the remainder of my life. This is the least I can do." He stated.

From there, the Devil and Doctor would begin their usual conversations. Countless topics would be discussed, all while in good company.

Meanwhile, In Pentagram City...

"Goddamn...these things are beautiful..." Cherri quietly muttered, examining Angel Dust's pistols.

As Vagatha had predicted, the duo of a sexual spider and a crazy cyclops were occupying a mostly empty warehouse. There were various pieces of furniture scattered about, such as the couch they sat on, but apart from that, it wasn't much of a home. Although, to its credit, it wasn't trying to be one.

"Why're you acting that way?" Angel Dust questioned with a raised brow. "You've seen'em before." He said.

"NO. I saw YOUR handguns before." Cherri corrected as she raised the pistols. Similar to how a priest might raise a baptized infant. "But these? THESE beauties are Doomguy's handiwork. Sure, he made an effort to make them identical, which is super sweet. Yet underneath these pretty shells are unknown insides. Just thinking about how they're different now excites me~" She said.

"Yeah, well, we're not taking them apart." Angel Dust replied, quickly snatching the guns from her.

"Hey, calm down, Mister Sensitive. I wasn't saying we perform a firearm autopsy." Cherri promised. "But these babies HAVE to shoot differently, right? So, let's line up some targets and get to blasting!" She exclaimed with a grin.

"No." Angel Dust denied it. "Look, Cherri; you KNOW how much I love to shoot shit. But these are special. We ain't using them." He stated while holstering the guns.

"Aww. That's so sweet. My itsy bitsy spider's fallen in love." Cherri teased.

"Hey, cut that shit out." Angel Dust said seriously. "Do I think Doomguy's got a nice tight ass? FUCK. YES. Do I want to bounce on his dick like I'm riding a bull full of steroids? FUCK. YES. But love? Nah. That shit isn't for me. However, you BEST believe if that beautiful man needs to relieve some stress by shoving someone's face in the dirt and ramming them for hours, maybe even a day, I'll kill every mother fucker in Hell, so I'm the only option he's got." He told her.

"I don't know, Angel. That SOUNDS like love to me. You'd even be willing to kill Lucifer to have Doomguy ALL to yourself. If that's not love, I don't know what is." Cherri argued.

"Cherri, I'm not joking here. Cut the shit." Angel Dust warned.

"I can see it now..." Cherri began with a smile as she looked at the ceiling. "Doomguy's surrounded by Demons. He's kicking ass. A shotgun in one hand, a machine gun in the other. He's blasting those fuckers away without a care in the world. Then, from the sidelines, a fair maiden comes running for him. Doomguy! My love! Please, wait for me! A white-furred spider wielding Thompsons leaps into his muscular arms. Then, while being carried bridal style, Doomguy spins you around and-"

THOOMP

Angel Dust picked up one of the couch cushions and bashed her over the head with it. The impact was soft and did no damage, but the insult was great.

"Gee, Cherri. I didn't peg you for the romance novel type. Do you also watch those shitty soap operas where a woman's dead long-lost twin has a weird incest baby with her Sister's Husband, who turned out to be their unknown Brother?" Angel Dust asked with an unamused expression.

"Laugh all you want, spider boy," Cherri responded, quickly pushing away the cushion. "I'll bet every cent to my name that you'll be blushing and wanting to cuddle with Doomguy before you know it." She claimed.

"Gee, five cents. A whole-ass nickel." Angel Dust said with a monotone voice and a half-lidded expression.

As Cherri was about to pull the couch cushion Angel Dust wielded away from him and smack him with it, the duo's attention was drawn elsewhere. The warehouse, as mentioned, was abandoned. Additionally, next to nothing filled the space. So, regardless of volume, any noise inside the building would echo.

Even amidst their conversation, the pair could hear something. It was coming closer to them. A steady pattern of sound.

Angel Dust and Cherri slowly got off the couch without saying a word to each other. Cherri conjured one of her stylized explosives. In the same way, Angel Dust brought forth a Thompson for him to wield. No one but them was supposed to be here. If this sound was what they assumed, it didn't mean anything good.

Slowly, the two walked side-by-side through the warehouse. They could still hear the noise, and it was getting closer and louder as they progressed. However, as Cherri and Angel Dust reached the center of the space, it suddenly stopped. With a glance exchanged between them, the duo knew what would happen.

Quickly standing back-to-back, Cherri and Angel Dust scanned their surroundings. They couldn't spot any figure.

"Ey, easy there. We don't need to fight." A voice spoke out from somewhere. Neither of them could discern its exact location.

"Funny you say that when you came into MY turf uninvited," Cherri replied, lightly tossing the bomb in her hand up and down.

"Tale it easy there, Cherri. We don't want no trouble with you." The voice said.

"...Shit..." Angel Dust cursed under his breath, an idea coming to mind. "Hey! Let me take a wild guess! Valentino sent ya!" He exclaimed.

"Heh, figured you'd know immediately." The voice responded, confirming his suspicion. "You've been gone for WEEKS since the Extermination. But then, when the Angel of Death showed up, you used that as a get-out-of-work free card. So, Valentino had us sit at the hotel until you left." It explained.

"Ah. So you're just errand boys, got it." Angel Dust replied. "Tell ya what. You assholes come out right now and let me shoot each of you once. You can convince Val that you put up a good fight but got beat. That way, you can pretend you did your jobs, and my bestie and I can relax." He offered.

"With any other bastard in Hell, maybe. But not the Vs. They'll fuck us up worse than you if we return empty-handed." The voice rejected.

"Eh, worth a shot." Angel Dust said with a shrug. "Alright, fuckers. Enough chit-chat. You're here to do a job, and I've got a submachinegun itching to be fired." He told them while raising the weapon.

What followed was an epileptic's worst nightmare. From all sides, a group of two dozen Demons or so revealed themselves from their hiding spots. Each one wielded a weapon of the individual's preference. All of them produced a hailstorm of hot lead and flashing lights.

Admittedly, Angel Dust was weirdly flattered by this. Valentino didn't underestimate his capabilities and sent a decent-sized force to drag him back. Of course, Angel, along with Cherri, was still going to murder every last bastard here. But it was the thought that counts.

Angel Dust, with his firearm, focused on trying to take out specific targets to make things easier. Cherri, with her endless supply of colorful bombs, prioritized crowd control and keeping the thugs at a distance. It was a rather tough situation, with not much cover to be found. But this wasn't the duo's first gunfight; they weren't rookies with peashooters.

With impressive maneuvers and speed, Angel Dust and Cherri danced through the bullets like a ballet. However, their evasive tactics only meant the fight could go on longer. Their attackers were well-positioned, which made sense. Valentino wouldn't send his dumbest guns to try and bring back his favorite porn star.

Seconds became minutes, and the chaos continued. Cherri and Angel Dust tried to close the distance to get physical. Sadly, as stated, these mercs weren't rookies, either. Anytime either attempted to get near, they'd focus their fire to restrict their movements.

"Fuck!" Cherri exclaimed, quickly dodging a barrage aimed at her side. "Angel! I hate to THAT bitch, but we ain't doing shit!" She told him, hoping he'd hear her over the gunfire and explosions.

"Yeah! Working on it!" Angel Dust replied, doing his best to think of a solution.

"What about your pistols?" Cherri suggested. "Seriously, we KNOW Doomguy did some shit to them! They could help!" She added.

...Damn it. Cherri was right. The good ol' Thompson wasn't making much progress. Yet, Angel Dust still hesitated. He wanted the first time he used his new beauties to be special. Taking out a group of dickheads wasn't on that list.

Even so, Angel Dust needed to be sensible. If there was ANY chance those handguns could turn the tide, he needed to use them.

"ALRIGHT!" Angel Dust shouted as he sprouted another set of arms. "YOU FUCKERS PISSED ME OFF! I'M GONNA MAKE SURE TO SEND YOU BACK TO VAL IN A BUCKET!" He warned them before drawing the guns.

With a pistol in each hand, Angel Dust aimed at the assailants on whom he had the best line of sight. Two sharpshooters on higher elevation. With the barrels positioned, the Spider Demon squeezed the triggers. Simultaneously, he braced for whatever was about to happen.

brzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt

As Angel Dust held down the triggers, no bullets were sent flying. Instead, a blue glow began emitting from the chambers. Momentarily, the Spider Demon stared in awe. But as more bullets whizzed by his person, he knew he couldn't admire what was happening until later.

As anyone would logically assume, Angel Dust figured something would happen if he released the triggers. So, that's what he did.

BOOM BOOM

Everything came to an immediate stop. The hired guns ceased fire. Cherri Bomb stopped lobbing explosives. All eyes were locked in shock at the result of what transpired.

The sharpshooters that Angel Dust had aimed at didn't exist anymore. There was no blood. No corpses. No piece or shred of clothing. All that remained were massive black stains that smoked and glowed bright red with heat.

As for the surrounding area, it was like a frag grenade had detonated. Any object or terrain within the vicinity was gone or had a massive piece missing. It honestly looked like Angel Dust had somehow hit them with small-scale artillery. Was that a thing? Even if it wasn't, that was the only way anyone could describe what they saw.

"...Alright. Nope. Fuck this shit." The Demon from before spoke. "Valentino NEVER said you had some Exterminator-level shit on you. Fuck that." It continued, the sound of footsteps now filling the air. "Listen, you never saw us. We were never here. We promise we ain't gonna fuck with you. Just don't shoot us with that nuclear shit. Alright?" They requested.

"Uh...sure." Angel Dust agreed. "Sorry...about your guys..." He apologized, weirdly feeling bad about it.

"Hey, if that AIN'T Exterminator tech, we'll see'em later." The Demon replied, focused on leaving like the others. "But regardless of if it is or isn't, again, we ain't fucking with that. There's not enough money in Hell to make that shit worthwhile." They insisted before departing.

Giving it a few moments to ensure their attackers would be true to their word, once Cherri and Angel Dust were certain they were alone, they proceeded to freak the fuck out.

"WHAT. THE. FUCK." Cherri was the first to say as she pointed at the pistols.

"Hey, don't look at me. I didn't know." Angel Dust said, also looking at his firearms. "I figured they'd pack a punch, but not like this." He confessed.

"YEAH. NO SHIT." Cherri responded, hurrying over to look at them. "What did they shoot?! Miniature missiles?!" She questioned.

"Nah. Standard rounds. Not even infused with magic or something crazy like that." Angel Dust promised as he released a clip from one of the guns. "See? Nothing special there." He added.

"Man...Mars tech is INSANE!" Cherri exclaimed, still losing her mind over it. "If THAT'S what the pistols are like, WHAT in the ever-loving FUCK are the rocket launchers like?! Do they just shoot nukes?!" She questioned.

"Don't know." Angel Dust replied as he put the clip back in. "But I think we should go see Doomguy. I'd like to ask if there's an instruction manual so I don't blow us up." He said.

"Yeah! Good idea! You're packing around pistols that can de-atomize someone!" Cherri agreed.

With a course of action decided, the pair of Sinners hurried out of the warehouse. Hopefully, Cherri's gang wouldn't wonder later why there were two smoldering spots in their hangout.