Led Astray: The only way to correct a mistake is to complete it?

by fissionable pencilcase

What happens when the children of a dysfunctional world, hell-bent on their destruction, whose gods have long since stopped caring, are collectively led astray by the opaque machinations of a single man? Good things, actually. But what happens if, by cosmic fiat, they end up in a world of peace-loving monster girls at the very climax of their fight? You're about to find out.

AN: This is my first fic, so reviews are highly encouraged. I've disabled the embargo on guest reviews for this account.

Commencing Emergency Wake Up Procedure: Protocol Charlie

Tank status: drained

EMCF: deactivated

Internal Temperature: 303.15+-0.5 Degrees Kelvin.

A status monitor mounted on the wall of a cramped, dimly lit room burst to life in a flurry of glowing green text and pixelated symbols. Loud machinery began rumbling to life, the sound reverberating through the metal walls. Small but piercing alarm klaxons joined the cacophonous, unseen symphony.

As the glass front of a mysterious fluid-filled tank depolarized, a pair of steel grey eyes fluttered open for the first time. The pale, toned figure within had mere seconds to process his surroundings before the tank abruptly burst open with a loud hiss, ejecting its occupant in a gush of viscous, foul-smelling liquid.

The young man, dressed only in a form-fitting black undersuit, collapsed to his knees on the grated metal floor, coughing and sputtering. His sodden brown hair clung to his face as he struggled to catch his breath, eyes wide with primal confusion and fear.

"Emergency ejection complete. Life signs stable," an electronic female voice announced from a speaker in the ceiling. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the room fell silent again.

"W-who said that?!" the man gasped out, his voice hoarse from disuse. He scanned the room wildly for the source of the voice but found only blinking computer terminals and inscrutable machinery.

Before he could investigate further, a fax machine on a nearby table whirred to life and began printing a message. The man stumbled over on shaky legs and grabbed the paper with trembling hands, shocked to find that the words printed upon it held meaning to him.

Dear Subject 002,

If you are reading this, then I assume the emergency wake up protocol has activated successfully and left your cognitive functions intact, more or less. If not, then I'm afraid we're all doomed anyway.

I'll keep this brief, as time is short. You are currently in a secure room deep beneath mankind's last bastion, our final stronghold against the apocalyptic demon onslaught that has ravaged the Earth. Your subsection was evacuated and locked down for your protection.

I dare not say more over this insecure channel. You MUST make your way to my command center in Sector A with all possible haste. All surviving personnel have been informed of your appearance and designation.

Whatever happens, your top priority must be self-preservation. Do not trust anything that doesn't look human. Run, hide, seek help from staff if you can - but do NOT attempt to fight.

May God help us all,

Commander Kthulhutu

Subject 002 read the ominous message over and over, his mind reeling. Far beyond the thick steel walls of the room, he could hear the muffled booms of distant explosions and the wail of warning sirens. The letter crumpled in his white-knuckled grip.

"I have to get to Sector A," he said, trying to steel himself. "I have to find this Commander Kthulhutu."

002 made his way to the heavy metal door of the room, searching for a handle or keypad to open it. When his palm brushed a biometric sensor panel, the door lock chirped and disengaged with a hydraulic hiss, rumbling upwards into the ceiling.

Beyond stretched a long, narrow catwalk, suspended over a seemingly bottomless chasm in a vast concrete chamber. Dim red emergency lights flickered and pulsed along the walls, casting eerie shadows. The air was tinged with the acrid scent of smoke and ozone.

For a moment, 002 stood in awe of the enormous space. Then another ground-shaking explosion in the distance snapped him out of his reverie. Gingerly, he took his first step onto the catwalk, relieved to find it stable.

He jogged along the precarious walkway, the metal grating clanging beneath his bare feet. Up ahead, he spied a red ladder leading up and out of the chamber.

On the chamber's far walls, he noticed several sealed security doors, painted with black and yellow industrial hazard stripes. Most appeared intact, but as he neared the ladder, one door caught his eye - it was buckled and half-open. Slumped around it were three motionless bodies in torn and bloody lab coats.

Even from a distance, 002 could make out the strange wounds that covered them - gaping lacerations that looked like claw marks, charred flesh, and small exit wounds all over. The catwalk beneath the bodies was slick with dark, congealing blood.

Swallowing back bile, 002 forced himself to look away and hurried to the ladder. As he climbed higher, the sounds of renewed explosions, blaring klaxons, and a new pulsing rhythm, like rapid gunfire, grew ever louder.

At the top of the ladder, 002 found himself in a crudely hewn tunnel through solid rock - some kind of underground access road. Dusty pipes and electrical conduits ran along the walls, some looking on the verge of leaking. The tunnel stretched into darkness ahead, lit only by flickering emergency lamps.

002 took a deep breath of the stale, dusty air, trying to calm his frayed nerves and racing heart. He knew he had to keep moving forward, to find Sector A and Commander Kthulhutu - but the thought of what nightmarish things might lurk in the shadows filled him with dread...

"CONTACT!" someone from behind him shouted.

002 jumped in surprise and turned to face the man clad in unusual grey patterned fatigues with pieces of black armour, a helmet and a half-face mask with goggles pointing a black stick thing in his direction.

"H-human, are you human?!" 002 stammered in surprise.

"Wait! You're Subject 002?" the man asked as he visibly relaxed.

"Yes! I came from below!"

The man lowered the stick.

"Thank God, I'm sorry for startling you, but we're all on edge right now." the man apologized.

"So… I need to make my way to this… control room in Sector A. And if I see any demons I should run."

"Yes, we've been ordered to assist you. Apparently, this is of the utmost importance or something. Well… it's above my paygrade as a mere maintenance engineer, but regardless if you want to get to Sector A from here, that's going to be a bit of a problem." the man explained.

He raised his arm and pointed to a huge sealed blast door pockmarked with dozens of small holes. A smoking truck was embedded into the wall next to it.

"You see that blast door? It's blocking our access to the service lift which the rest of my unit is currently defending with their lives. When the damn lockdown hit, I was separated." the man complained.

"What about the other way?" 002 asked, pointing to the other end of the road tunnel marked with a sign Crater Complex —-.

"No point, that end's sealed even tighter and for good reason. It's a direct route to various labs like the one you emerged from but even more crackpot. Not only should it remain absolutely out of demon hands for the good of us all, but it's also not connected to anything."

"So we're deep underground and this Sector A is on the surface?" 002 asked, as he began to piece things together.

"This is one of the deepest parts of the facility, yes. Sector A is actually above the surface, but the only way to get access from here is to take one of the two routes to the surface and find the tram or roads to the lobby."

"This is getting complicated…"

"All the more reason not to waste time. Follow me." the man said as he beckoned 002 to a small, grimy grey door next to the blast door.

002 started following then suddenly stopped, suspicion kicking in.

"Wait. If those 'Crater' labs are supposed to be so important, why is there only one person guarding it?" he asked pointedly.

The soldier regarded 002 warily for a moment, his expression unreadable behind his tinted goggles and half-mask. He shifted his grip on his weapon, a sleek black thing that 002 could not recognize.

"Look, I'll level with you," the soldier said, his voice low and tense. "My unit was dispatched to secure this area and escort any...high-value individuals...to the surface. But things went FUBAR real quick."

He gestured to the smoking wreckage of the truck with a gloved hand. "Those demon bastards hit us hard and fast. Came clipping right through the walls, it seemed. We never stood a chance."

The soldier shook his head, as if trying to dispel the grim memories. "I got separated in the chaos. Last I heard on the radio, they were making a stand at the service lift. Hoping to buy time for proper reinforcements"

002's heart raced as he tried to process the soldier's words. The situation was far more dire than he had realised. If even armed soldiers were being overrun...

"As for why I'm the only one here," the soldier continued, "I'm all that's left. Everyone else is either dead or holed up in the Crater labs." He motioned back to the other end of the tunnel.

He took a step closer to 002, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "And trust me, you don't want to know what's going on in there. Command were messing with some wild shit."

002 swallowed hard, a creeping sense of dread washing over him. What had they been doing in those labs? And why did he happen to emerge from one himself? What is he supposed to be?

The soldier seemed to sense his unease. He clapped a hand on 002's shoulder, making him flinch. "But none of that matters now, 'specially not if the succufuckers come in and trash it all. What matters is getting you to the commander in one piece. The fate of humanity might just depend on it."

He nodded towards the small grey door. "That maintenance passage is our best shot. It'll be a tight squeeze, but it should let us bypass the lockdown and reach the secondary lift shaft."

002 hesitated, his mind reeling with unanswered questions and mounting fears. Could he really trust this lone soldier? What if it was a trap?

But what choice did he have? The alternative was to wander these eerie, corpse-strewn tunnels alone, with no idea of where to go or what he might face.

Steeling himself, 002 gave a curt nod. "Alright. Lead the way."

The soldier held up his rifle and strode over to the door, punching a code into the keypad beside it. With a rusty screech, the door ground open, revealing a narrow, pitch-black passage that smelled of dust and stagnant air.

"Stay close and keep quiet," the soldier whispered as he adjusted the tactical IR torch on his carbine to beam visible light. "No telling what fuckers might have made it down here."

With a final glance back at the sealed blast door and the ominous Crater Complex sign, 002 followed the soldier into the suffocating darkness of the maintenance tunnel, the door slamming shut behind them with a boom that echoed through the confined space.

…

002 hurried through the dimly lit maintenance corridor with the soldier, heart pounding in his chest. The soldier abruptly turned and handed him a compact black object.

"Here, take this," he said gruffly. "It's a gun. No time to explain all the mechanics, but flick this switch to turn off the safety, then pull the trigger to fire. It shoots metal bullets that are loaded in this magazine." He ejected the magazine and popped it open, revealing the bullets. "Avoid fighting if you can, I don't have many spare mags."

002 studied the unfamiliar weapon with fascination. "What a strange device..." His musings were interrupted by a firm slap on the shoulder.

"Focus! We don't have time for this shit. Save the questions for the commander, got it?" The soldier's tone left no room for argument.

Alone in this high-tech labyrinth with a weapon I barely understand. Not exactly a pleasant awakening. 002 thought wryly as they rounded a corner.

Suddenly, everything went sideways.

*Whoooooosh*

A sound that 002 instinctively regonized as magical teleportation manifested just meters behind them. His body flooded with adrenaline as he whirled around, leveling the gun at the figure with surprising speed, nearly matching the soldier's trained reflexes.

A breathtakingly beautiful woman emerged from the shadows, adorned with peculiar attire, wings, and horns. She sauntered towards them with unsettling nonchalance.

With each step she took, 002 felt an alien sensation pervading his body and mind, clouding his thoughts.

"Awww, no need to point such scary things at little ol' me, cuties~" she purred. "Are you lost? I'm here to help! ...Once I deal with this 'bad boy'." Her gaze shifted menacingly to the soldier.

Every fiber of 002's being screamed not to trust her honeyed words.

The soldier noticed his hesitation. "Ignore the demon bitch! I'll hold her off, just run! Fucking run and don't look back!" He raised his carbine and unleashed a deafening hail of gunfire at the woman.

"Gah!" 002 cried, shielding his ears. His legs, however, obeyed the command, carrying him in the opposite direction as fast as they could manage. `So that's a demon?!`

002 sprinted blindly through the dingy maze of maintenance tunnels until his lungs burned and his pace slowed. The sounds of gunfire faded, replaced by a deafening silence. "Huff... huff... I hope that means he won," 002 panted.

"Who won, sweetie~?" A saccharine voice froze the sweat on 002's back.

He turned slowly. The woman from before stood behind him, clothes tattered, skin marred by red welts - the only evidence of the soldier's last stand.

Their eyes met. 002 felt his strength and will drain away. I-is this magic?!

She strutted towards him, wings and spaded tail flicking with anticipation.

Do not trust anything inhuman.

Succubi are demons that use charm and seduction to incapacitate prey. Your willpower determines your resistance.

Kthulhutu's warning surfaced in 002's mind, accompanied by a memory he'd never experienced. A fire ignited behind his eyes, burning away the mental fog.

002 leapt back and trained the gun on the succubus' head, unloading the entire magazine with shocking precision. Recoil and noise barely registered as he focused every ounce of willpower into each shot.

Bullets peppered her face, but rather than gaping wounds, only small cuts appeared. She stepped back, expression twisting to reveal her true nature.

"Well, well... Looks like I have another bad boy to break!" She advanced with unsettling speed.

Succubi and their derivatives have immense resistance to physical and magical attack.

Another foreign memory invaded 002's thoughts, affirming Kthulhutu's warnings against combat. He pocketed the spent gun and fled, pouring every ounce of endurance into escaping the predator. To his surprise, breaking her trance seemed to grant him greater focus and stamina. He managed to maintain a slim lead.

A frustrated cry and the sound of stumbling bought 002 a moment's reprieve. It seemed a full magazine to the skull threw off even a succubus' balance.

002 reached a junction room, using his lead to select the correct ventilation shaft and replace the grill behind him, praying it would confuse his hunter long enough to reach the service elevator.

"These vents are rather tight... Perhaps they're an anti-demon measure?" 002 mused, picturing the demoness trying to squeeze her wings and horns through the confined space.

Emboldened by this revelation, 002 quickly reached the vent's end. He kicked out the grill and dropped four meters onto unforgiving concrete, poised to run if necessary.

…

He found himself in the middle of a raging battle. The room was fortified with sandbag walls and metal barricades, littered with equipment and a few tables. On one table sat a strange glowing device with an antenna.

At least eighteen armoured soldiers covered all angles, unleashing a terrifying hail of gunfire. Across the room from the sealed road entrance was a smaller metal door that had been ripped open. Sinister black-robed creatures attempted to pour in but were being torn to shreds by a mounted gun's endless chain of deafening blasts.

Some robed figures retaliated with magic, but the well-trained soldiers evaded with clever positioning. Despite their overwhelming firepower, 002 noticed several wounded men lying low.

Another memory surfaced—something about succubi using lesser demons as minions, and them being no match for a hero. But 002 dismissed it as a rear guard took aim at him.

"I'm Subject 002! I escaped the lab and a succubus is tailing me!" he shouted over the din.

"The Subject? Shit, call the lift now!" a soldier yelled.

"Get the Subject armed and radio for backup. Do NOT mention his location on open comms," a decorated man barked.

A soldier handed 002 a larger gun. "Here, an OM-16 carbine. Best to just run from a succubus, but its blessed rounds work well on demons. It's also collapsible, which makes it easy to transport around."

002 presented his handgun. "I shot a succubus until it stopped. Do I need to use mana…?"

"Damn, you tried that peashooter on one and lived?! You might be our best hope after all. Here, I'll show you how to reload." The soldier gave a quick primer on firearms and fished out a couple of spare mags and a tactical belt for 002.

"Thanks. I have no memory of these, but they seem powerful!" 002 glanced at the last demons being shredded by focused fire.

"I'll let the boss explain. It's worse topside. Reinforcements will come to escort you." the soldier said.

An officer approached. "Lift's en route with two squads of Knights. That succubus has them spooked."

Klaxons blared as the lift began its long descent.

"So this lift...it's a big moving platform?" 002 asked.

"Yeah, it fits vehicles," the officer replied.

002 marveled to himself at this strange and amazing place.

"FUUUCK!" A bloodcurdling scream drew everyone's attention. A soldier stumbled back, both arms severed.

"ARCH!" the gunner warned as he resumed firing.

The blue-robed archdemon's magic scythe sliced the air, cleaving a soldier behind cover. It unleashed a fiery blast, setting another man ablaze. The mounted gun peppered the demon with holes before a barrier shielded it.

Flanking the archdemon, the succubus and more black-robed demons emerged.

"So this is where you ran~" Her voice dripped with malice as the men scrambled to regroup and concentrate fire.

"HOLD UNTIL THE LIFT ARRIVES! SEND 'EM BACK TO HELL!" The officer drew his carbine and joined the fray.

Over a dozen carbines and the mounted gun thundered, wreaking havoc on the demons and magic ward. But it wasn't enough...

"First, I'll silence that annoying thing~" The succubus conjured a powerful gale, tearing the emplacement asunder.

"Now I'll drop the ward so my friend can play!" The archdemon's shield fell and it lashed out with its scythe, decapitating two men. Sustained gunfire took its toll and the demon subsequently vanished in a burst of magic, but not before lunging forth and impaling another soldier.

Down to twelve, the group scattered to encircle the succubus and her demon cadre. Twelve might as well be none—even the carbine rounds merely annoyed her, bouncing off wards or leaving welts. She grabbed the nearest man and kissed him into a coma. A blast of wind disarmed and disrobed the next before a demon finished him with a magic bolt to the chest.

"They're dropping like flies!" 002 cried in fear.

"Cover your ears and shut your eyes," the officer told him. "MEN, FLASH AND SMOKE!"

The soldiers hurled every grenade at random. A disorienting assault on the senses was followed by the room being filled with smoke. Succubi resisted harm but weren't immune to physics.

Despite the warning, 002 fared poorly. Lacking a mask and unacclimated to the noise, he curled into a ball, completely dazed. Through painful ringing, he heard gunfire, screams, shouts and magic blasts. Someone tried to drag him to the lift but a concentrated air blast threw them into a wall with a sickening crunch.

"Hands off my prize~" the succubus sang, closing in on 002 and the few remaining men.

"Come on, COME ON!" the officer yelled in frustration as the smoke thinned, aided by succubus's wind magic.

The lesser demons had fallen, but meager human resistance meant little against a mid-level succubus. Until—

"TARGET ACQUIRED."

An electronic voice rang out as twenty laser sights converged on the succubus's body. In the next instant, a hail of 12.5mm bullets tore through the air, impacting the demon with staggering force.

The succubus let out an involuntary cry of pain as the heavy rounds ripped into her body, leaving bleeding gashes and seared flesh in their wake. But the assault was far from over. At the head of the newly arrived group, a chant rose above the clamor of gunfire.

"PURIFYING LANCE!"

A searing bolt of holy energy lanced out, engulfing the succubus in white-hot flame. Her agonized screams echoed through the chamber as the purifying fire seared her demonic flesh. The spellcaster began another incantation, but it was too late - with a characteristic whoosh of displaced air, the badly wounded demon vanished, teleporting to safety.

"Why must Teleblock take so long to cast?" The newly arrived mage muttered under his breath, frustration evident in his voice.

In the aftermath of the brief but intense battle, the shell-shocked survivors turned to regard their saviors with a mix of awe and trepidation. The two squads of Knights cut an imposing figure in their state-of-the-art powered armor, capes billowing and crimson eye lenses glowing balefully in the dim light. They seemed almost demonic themselves - a fitting countenance, perhaps, for those tasked with the burden of engaging Succubi on the front-lines. Accompanying them was a lone Thaumaturge, wearing similar armour draped in ornate robes and carrying an elaborate staff and shield that marked him as one of the few dedicated mage units left in existence.

"Command actually sent a mage? I take it you understood the message, sir?" The officer inquired, his voice still unsteady from the harrowing encounter.

"Roger that, Lieutenant," the Thaumaturge replied, his tone crisp and businesslike. "One squad will accompany me in escorting the Subject to Sector A. The other will remain here to reinforce your position and ensure the Crater remains secure from teleporting units."

"So, the Subject takes priority over even the Crater now, does it?" A soldier muttered, just loudly enough to be heard.

"For the time being, yes," one of the Knights responded, his voice distorted by his helmet's vocoder. "But rest assured, your lives were not lost in vain."

Taking this as his cue, Subject 002 fell into step with the Knights as they made their way to the lift platform. As the gate hissed shut and the lift began its ascent, he turned to one of the Knights.

"So... just how far is Sector A from here?" He asked, trying to keep the nervousness from his voice.

"About 500 meters by lift, give or take," the Knight replied. "After that, it's a few klicks of driving, riding, or hoofing it, depending on our luck."

"Our luck?" 002 queried, confusion evident in his tone.

"Oh, you thought that was a battle?" Another Knight chuckled mirthlessly. "Just wait 'til you see the surface, kid."

The lift ride seemed to stretch on interminably, the tension ratcheting higher with each passing second...

Finally, the doors opened onto a scene of barely controlled chaos. Once an administrative building with modern glass architecture and office furniture,

It had been transformed into a makeshift fortress, bristling with sentry guns, mortars, and sandbagged emplacements. Armored vehicles prowled the perimeter, their engines snarling and weapons at the ready. Bullet holes pockmarked nearly every surface, grim testament to the ferocity of the fighting that had occurred here.

"Welcome to Sector C." a Knight quipped with a hint of sarcasm.

After passing through the heavily guarded revolving doors at the entrance, 002 finally got a chance to gawk at the sheer scale of the facility, and the war that raged beyond its walls.

Before him stretched a road, but not just any road - it was a shelled out, smoking, body-strewn path bearing all the signs of a recent firefight one could imagine. The sky, despite it being late sunset, glowed an ominous deep orange from the literal firestorm that raged. This hellish light coalesced with the fading rays of the setting sun to paint the heavens a deep, smoky crimson, thick with a dense haze of embers and smoke. In the distance, one could see the countless ever-burning fires and ongoing shellings that fed the inferno, as well as dazzling motes of light - tracer rounds and bolts of magic - zipping through the sky as opposing forces exchanged fire.

The ambience was unreal, almost dreamlike in its horror. The air was filled with the diffuse staccato of gunfire from all directions, punctuated by anguished cries of the wounded and dying. This was no mere battle- it was a canvas of madness that threatened to erode one's sanity with but a single glance.

All color drained from 002's face as he stood there in shock, struggling to process the apocalyptic scene before him.

"T-this... this has to be Hell itself!" he stammered, his voice quavering.

"Now you understand," a Knight said, his tone uncharacteristically reverent. "This is the culmination of all of humanity's strength, our willpower, our desperation - all coalesced into this, our final stand."

"This level of firepower and destruction is what it takes to even have a chance of competing with the succubi," the thaumaturge added grimly. "You'll get used to it, in time. Now let's get moving - we have work to do!"

A few meters away they found an armored supply truck in the parking lot, miraculously untouched and quickly clambered aboard.

"It's no APC, but it will have to suffice," the thaumaturge remarked as he slid into the driver's seat.

With a throaty roar the engine turned over and they were off, the heavy vehicle crawling along the bomb-cratered road at a snail's pace.

"Whoa... what manner of magic propels this contraption?" 002 asked, slack-jawed with amazement.

"Magic? Son, the only one here with magic worth mentioning is that thaumaturge," one of the Knights replied with a dry chuckle. "And even his kind are a dying breed these days."

"Magic wielders are going extinct?" 002 asked, even more questions tumbling out. "You're telling me this thing runs without any magic at all?"

"It's technology, plain and simple," another Knight explained. "The application of physical sciences and engineering principles. This truck has a combustion engine that burns fuel to produce motion. No magic required."

"Aye, and you can thank the succubi for magic's decline," another Knight added darkly. "They've drained nearly all the mana from our world and slaughtered most of the 'tastier' magic users over the years. The few magical lineages that remain are considered exceptional, and those born to them are chosen to become thaumaturges attached to elite units like ours."

"So all the incredible devices and machines I've seen in this facility - they're all technology? Like the wheel?" 002 asked, amazement still coloring his voice.

"Indeed," the Knight answered with a note of pride. "Back before the war, when the world was at peace and magic was still woven into the natural order, technology and science always played second fiddle to the arcane. But now that the demons have pushed us to the brink? Technology has become our trump card - the one advantage we have left."

"I've got the radio up and running!" the thaumaturge called out suddenly.

"It's a long-range communications device," a Knight explained, anticipating 002's unspoken question.

CENTCOM(A,all,req,pri): SitRep:req SIGINT=pri, AWACS:3(BLM-2), FEBA=CONST, OVER=WAIT

TAR-C(A,CENTCOM,rep): CONF pri3(BLM-2), CBDR, FEBA=CONST, OVER=CONF

TAR-B(A,CENTCOM,rep): negFLOT, priTAC/priSCORCH, SAT=0.4, OVER=CONF

TAR-A(A,CENTCOM,rep): DENY=CLF3, BRKT=WP, priFRONT=CONST, OVER=CONF

TAR-D(A,CENTCOM,rep): negPOS! CAS=CRIT, ENEMY=BLM-4, THREAT=EXTREME, OVER=HELP

CENTCOM(A,TAR-A,cmd): SIERRA=TAR-C, OVER=ACK

CENTCOM(A,TAR-B,cmd): KILO=TAR-B, BATT-STBY, OVER=ACK

CENTCOM(A,TAR-D,cmd): negCAS, ORG-ONLY, TAR-C=PRIO, OVER=NEG

TAR-D(A,CENTCOM,dem): negORG, CRIT=TRUE, CAS=CRIT! OVER=DEMAND

CENTCOM(A,TAR-D,rep): NEG, TAR-C=PRIO, ORG-ONLY, REINFORCEMENTS-ETA-30, OVER=FINAL

002 parsed the arcane exchange with growing unease, the dense technical jargon flying over his head like the bogies surely flying over the beleaguered defenders below.

"CanSomebodyPleaseExplain(ThisConversation) to me?" he queried, totally lost. "I think it's English but…"

"Hahaha! It's a constructed language designed to maximize efficiency of communication whilst obscuring the details to any dim little bitch that tries to listen in." one of the Knights explained with a grin under his mask.

"Point is, Sector Delta seems pretty fucked. I hope the commander knows what he's doing…" another Knight chimed in.

"Of course the Supreme Commander does, now stay focused!" the thaumaturge barked from the driver's seat. Clearly the comment had irritated him a little.

…

The rest of the ride was mostly uneventful, with the bulk of the fighting occurring away from their particular route. One group of demons led by an arch attempted to block the road, but a hail of lead quickly sent them back to the infernal abyss. They also narrowly avoided disaster several times, swerving to avoid a crashing helicopter, stray rockets, and errant artillery shells, but the thaumaturge proved himself a competent driver.

They finally arrived at the perimeter of Sector Alpha, the truck lurching to a stop.

002 gawked at the sight of the elaborate spire stretching into the sky, surrounded by flames on multiple sides. Motes of light periodically streaked through the skies above as winged demons found themselves too close to the tower's array of mounted guns.

"Soldiers, we have a problem," the thaumaturge announced grimly.

"We've got a collapsed tunnel blocking one route, a sea of ever-burning flames barring another, and a bombed-out car park with at least three succubi infesting it as the only other way forward. Take your pick," he elaborated, his tone grim.

*Click*

"TAR-A(B,CENTCOM,pri): priKNIGHT(REG), LOC(A3), CON(BLM-2,3+), OVER=HELP," Knight Regulus reported over the radio, his voice tense.

"CENTCOM(B,TAR-A,rep): SIERRA(REG), ECHO(A3), REINFORCE(KNIGHT,AUX), WAIT=HOLD, OVER=WILCO," came the swift reply from Sector Alpha's command.

"Well that went surprisingly smoothly. Now we just need to sit tight and wait for backup to arrive," Regulus said, some of the tension leaving his armored shoulders.

"Should we not aid our comrades in arms?" 002 asked, eager to join the fray.

"Negative. It's too risky with you here - our mission is to deliver you to the Supreme Commander safely. Anything else is secondary," Regulus stated firmly, brooking no argument.

"Just sit back and watch, rookie. This is a real elite Knight team we're talking about." one of the other Knights added confidently, rapping his knuckles against his state-of-the-art armor for emphasis.

…

After five minutes of tense waiting, a vehicle bay door opened up adjacent to the bombed out car park. An IFV burst forth from the opening, eight Knights in distinctive armor riding on its flanks, red eyes aglow like harbingers of death in the dark. They were clearly a different unit from Regulus's team, their equipment far more specialized.

The Knights gave the succubi no chance to react, immediately going on the offensive. The IFV's 30mm autocannon roared to life, spewing a hail of shells at the lesser demons as it circled the parking lot. The passengers quickly cast a shimmering blue ward over the body of the IFV, shielding it from harm. The others launched a barrage of searing holy fire and blessed lightning at the succubi, causing them to recoil in pain, their alluring faces contorted in agony.

"Such fine prey you've brought us, how generous!" the succubus wreathed in wind and water magic yelled defiantly. She retaliated with focused blasts of razor-sharp wind and crushing waves, determined to reduce her attackers to paste and playthings.

The other succubus used a blast of wind magic to propel herself towards the IFV, nimbly evading the autocannon shells with preternatural grace. She latched onto the vehicle's roof and unleashed a wave of pure, unfiltered lust at the nearest Knight.

The Knight convulsed in agony as his armor lit up with glowing sigils, holy enchantments shocking him in an attempt to purge the succubus's corruption. His comrades reacted swiftly, one grabbing a blessed spear that shone with a painfully bright radiance. He thrust it clean through the succubus's supple body, scorching her flesh and drawing an anguished wail from her lips.

Seizing the opportunity, the IFV swerved violently, allowing another Knight wielding a colossal flaming greatsword to cleave through the succubus's bat-like wings in a spray of blood and cooked flesh. Now earthbound and immobilized, the IFV drove over the succubus, the sickening crunch of her bones echoing across the battlefield.

But even that wasn't enough to slay a succubus of this level, as all present knew too well. A thaumaturge at the rear of the formation readied a massive holy lance, its tip blazing with purifying fire. The moment the dazed and broken succubus emerged from beneath the IFV's treads, he let the lance fly, piercing her through the heart and sending her to hell in a casket of white-hot flame.

...

"And that, rookie, is how you kill a succubus," one of the Knights said to 002, his voice thick with grim satisfaction.

"So they CAN be killed... But those Knights, they're using magic armaments. Why do you rely on these guns?" 002 asked, trying to reconcile the awe-inspiring display of power he'd just witnessed with his own team's comparatively mundane equipment.

"Different units, different specialities. We're no mages- only our designated Thaumaturge can use anything beyond basic enhancement magic. So we stick to what works." The Knight tapped his hefty drum-fed gun to emphasize the point.

...

Of course, the other two succubi didn't just stand idle while their sister was slaughtered. The wind and water mage took advantage of the chaos to launch a focused jet of water at the IFV, puncturing its armoured hull. The other blinked to the vehicle's side and drained the ward with a touch, rendering it vulnerable.

The water jet tore through the IFV's wheels in a spray of torn rubber and bent metal, sending it careening out of control. A Knight was thrown from the vehicle, hitting the ground hard.

The succubus was on him in an instant, but the Knight was far from helpless. He kipped up to his feet and caught her with a vicious rising shield bash to the jaw, following up with a lightning-fast thrust of his spear.

But the succubus was ready, parrying the spear thrust and wrenching it from the Knight's grasp with her bare hands. She prepared to blast him with the same lust magic that had incapacitated his comrade, a cruel smile forming on her face.

"PERISH WENCH!" Another Knight leapt from the IFV with superhuman agility, descending on the succubus with his massive flaming sword. The blade carved a burning furrow across her neck, drawing a scream more of surprise than pain.

The remaining succubus, fresh from crippling the IFV, took aim at the exposed Knight. Fel energies gathered between her palms as she prepared to vaporize him with a stream of all-consuming hellfire.

"Let's see you chant with a mouth full of lead, cocksucker!" The IFV's gunner roared, levelling his enormous anti-succubus rifle at the demon. The weapon barked once, a supersonic 25mm shell crossing the distance in the blink of an eye to slam into the demon's skull with a satisfying crunch.

The succubus staggered back in a daze, hellfire sputtering from her lips as the physical impact knocked her spell off course. The premature torrent of flame seared a hole through the Knight's shoulder rather than boiling him inside his armour - painful, but far from fatal.

The rest of the squad wasted no time in surrounding the wounded succubi, steadily wearing them down with holy fire and blessed (steel?). In the end, the fight was over in a mere four minutes, leaving six Knights still fit for battle. An impressive showing, considering they'd faced three greater succubi and a horde of lesser demons.

…

"Incredible! The way they combined swords, magic and guns like that was truly awe-inspiring!" The young 002 couldn't help but gush over what he saw as the epitome of heroism, seemingly oddly unaffected by the sheer brutality on display.

One of the Knights scoffed. "Those were only mid-tier succubi at best, rookie. Save the victory speeches for when we've actually won something." The veteran's gruff words did little to dampen 002's enthusiasm as both teams ventured into the car park.

After a brief exchange of greetings, Regulus and the other Knights proceeded as one through the vehicle tunnel leading directly into Sector A. Though lesser demons still lurked within, the Knights' combined might saw them through with only minor injuries.

...

"So this is the fabled Sector A," 002 mused as they emerged into a grand atrium of glossy black stone. Heavily fortified and bristling with manned emplacements and automated turrets, not a single blindspot could be found in the architect's deliberate design.

"Impressive, isn't it? Sector A is the crown jewel of the facility - nay, of humanity itself." Regulus said, pride evident in his voice. "But we've no time for sightseeing. The fighting here is constant, and we must reach the control room post-haste."

This, as it turned out, was only a half-truth. The stairwell to the control room's lift was actively avoided by the demons, its entrance safely ensconced behind two sets of guarded blast doors. The lift shaft itself was immense, running straight through the tower's core.

"Not underground?" 002 questioned as they began their ascent.

"There's a secondary control room below, but the primary seat of High Command is exceptionally well-defended, exposure be damned. And the view is fantastic." Regulus grinned beneath his helm.

Another Knight chimed in. "Plus, those dumb fucks are getting totally bottlenecked in the atrium. They'd have a much easier time surrounding us if it were some dingy room underground."

As the lift climbed, the scale of the fighting became apparent. Demons clashed with squads of soldiers, Knights and even small vehicles, on walkways and stairwells wrapping the central shaft, though none paid the rising lift any mind.

"Can't the succubi just hop on? Why fight up this diabolical killbox of a tower?" 002 asked.

A Knight shook his head. "Biometrics, rookie. This lift only works for those with the rank of Major or higher. And if it detects any dark energy, it stops cold. Hitchhiking's pointless."

"Smart... How could anything hope to assault this place?"

"You'd be surprised," Regulus replied, his tone foreboding.

At last they arrived at their destination. Ushered through by the soldiers standing guard, 002 laid eyes upon the nerve center of humanity's resistance.

Chaos reigned, though of the organized sort. Screens, papers, and headsets were strewn about as dozens of individuals typed furiously at terminals or barked arcane jargon over the radio. And there, at the center of it all, stood the man himself.

Kthulhutu cut an imposing figure, metaphorically standing head and shoulders above the rest. His red-tinted armor covered him from head to toe, his face hidden behind an engraved mask of cold, grey metal. A black cloak hung from his shoulders, hugged his body, a strange white symbol - a stylized eye flanked by converging parallel lines - emblazoned upon it.

Two other individuals of similar stature flanked him, their armor at once more advanced and more archaic than the Knights'. Renaissanceesque helmets adorned their heads, the subtle glow of their visors and the tubes feeding into the back betraying their true nature. Each bore an array of weapons - a monster of a halberd for one, a tower shield and greatsword for the other - and cloaks bearing their own unique heraldry.

The Supreme Commander stood in contemplation, staring down at the hellscape below as his fingers danced across the screen of a portable device. Even in the midst of utter bedlam, an aura of control surrounded him, as if every action, every decision, was carefully calculated for maximum effect.

Kthulhutu turned to face the group as they entered. Most of the Knights showed no reaction, but 002 noticed Regulus and the other thaumaturge accompanying them tilt their heads down slightly in respect.

"Well done bringing the Subject here, Regulus. At ease," Kthulhutu spoke, his voice calm yet commanding. There was a hint of satisfaction in his tone.

"Your words honor me, my lord," Regulus replied reverently, very unlike his usual gruff manner.

Kthulhutu then gestured to 002. "Subject 002. A pleasure to finally meet you in person. As I watched the dire situation unfold through this window, my concern for your wellbeing only grew." His words carried a note of paternal care, mixed with clinical detachment.

"Now then. Our time is short but we have much to discuss. Regulus, have your men wait outside. 002, with me." Kthulhutu's orders were succinct and absolute.

002 followed as Kthulhutu touched a random part of the wall, causing a hidden door to slide open. The red-clad knights flanking the Supreme Commander matched their pace.

"Welcome to the observation deck," Kthulhutu said as they stepped onto a catwalk suspended in the center of a massive plexiglass sphere. It offered a breathtaking panoramic view of the hellscape far below, occasionally lit by flashes from nearby AA batteries engaging airborne demons.

"Wow... it's certainly something..." 002 muttered in awe, unsure what to make of the apocalyptic vista.

"Magnificent, is it not?" Kthulhutu remarked offhandedly, a strange mix of pride and bitterness in his voice.

002 raised an eyebrow at that. "Magnificent...?" he echoed uncertainly.

Kthulhutu took a deep breath before speaking again, his tone growing emphatic.

"Before I came to lead humanity's resistance against the demons, do you know how close they were to extinction? How utterly hopeless their struggle against the succubi was?" He paused for effect. "Rhetorical questions, of course."

"Then I entered the picture. I gave humanity doctrine, tactics, strategy, discipline, organization... and most crucially, hope."

He swept an arm out, encompassing the vista before them. "Yet even so...a few demons slain, a handful of unfinished prototypes, all to delay an inevitable demise. This is the reality we face." His gaze bored into 002 through the impassive mask. "Save for ONE thing. Can you guess what that is?"

002 thought back to the lone soldier's cryptic warning about the Crater. "M-me...?" he ventured hesitantly.

"Correct," Kthulhutu confirmed. "Even incomplete, you are our final trump card. The ace up our sleeve. The one chance, however slim, of ultimate victory."

His tone then turned grimly pragmatic. "Yet cold, hard maths does not lie. We used it to create all our wondrous technology after all- this very room, my armor, your weapons, your transport. ALL of it born from applied mathematics. Including, I must add, the extensive calculations we've run on our odds of survival..." He trailed off ominously.

002 looked baffled. "I'm afraid I don't follow, sir..."

"In this timeline, our models predict certain doom," Kthulhutu clarified. "Oh, we'll fight to the bitter end, dragging as many screaming demons back to hell as we can. And then we'll piss on our own graves with the remaining nuclear arsenal for good measure. Formerly prideful succubi will soil their non-existent clothes at the mere mention of us for millenia to come. But... we will lose. And you, as you are now, won't make a damn bit of difference."

He leaned forward intently. "Fortunately, we have another ace in the hole. Call it an unfinished ace, much like yourself - a single-person time machine, albeit an unreliable one that can only lock onto specific pivotal moments in the history of the user, making it quite useless for most of us. But, IT IS a gateway to alternate timelines. And we have our perfect Subject."

Kthulhutu began to pace as he explained further. "A genetically engineered being derived from the lineages of ALL of the heroes of the past we could dig up. All of those with special magic, with a particular divine spark that sets them apart from everyone else." Kthulhutu continued.

He tapped a finger against 002's chest. "Their memories, their skills, their vast potential - all of it is distilled within your body and soul, just waiting to be unlocked. In fact, you've likely already noticed some of it manifesting. That's one of the reasons I refrained from sending my Red Clad to escort you immediately - I wanted reaching this place without babysitting to serve as your initial trial by fire, so to speak. If you failed to survive, even with the reasonable help available, It'd tell us that your awakening was likely a failure. Best to quell hope early before it becomes a false idol."

There's also the fact that most of the Red Clad are busy…

Kthulhutu sighed a touch of regret in his voice. "It wasn't meant to happen this way, of course. Had we even a little more time, you'd have awakened with most of your latent memories intact... and bearing a proper name, to boot."

He paused thoughtfully. "Let's remedy that last part, at least. I imagine being reduced to a mere number feels rather degrading, even in these circumstances."

002 stammered, struggling to process the earth-shattering revelations. "I, uh... I'm not sure what to say..."

"No need," Kthulhutu said magnanimously. "As lead researcher on your project, I suppose that makes me the closest thing you have to a father. So allow me to bestow upon you a name." He considered for a moment, then nodded to himself. "How does 'Rolf' sound?" He smirked a little under his mask, the likeness of the name likely being lost on everyone present.

The newly christened Rolf mulled it over. "Rolf... I like it. But what about a surname?"

"That, you can decide for yourself," Kthulhutu replied. "I lack one myself if you can believe it. And you aren't my kin, strictly speaking. Perhaps, lacking any family, you should endeavour to earn one." His tone held a note of challenge.

"Thank you, sir," Rolf said, then frowned. "But you never really answered my original question..."

Kthulhutu shrugged fatalistically. "Simple enough - we're fucked six ways from Sunday regardless, so why not enjoy the fireworks before we shuffle off this mortal coil? Is that truly so sinful?" There was a bitter edge to his words, a hint of nihilistic amusement.

Rolf hesitated before responding. "It just...seems wrong to me."

Kthulhutu barked a harsh laugh. "Of course it does! That heroic spirit burns bright in you, boy. Hold fast to it...but do not allow it to lead you astray, as it has so many before."

Rolf started to ask another question. "So, what about your n-"

He was cut off abruptly as a massive explosion rocked the entire tower.

Red light bathed the room as alarms blared. Extreme quantity of dark mana detected

"She's here… Rolf, you need to evacuate immediately!" Kthulhutu barked, motioning for him to follow. The Red Clad present seemed visibly agitated.

They sprinted to the control room where everyone moved in a panic.

"They'll arrive any moment!" a man shouted.

"Sitrep!" Kthulhutu demanded.

"S-sir, our sensors detect four massive mana sources approaching, likely the Queen and her elite. Countless lesser demons and succubi are also converging below. It seems they've pierced the perimeter," another man reported fearfully.

"Sooner than expected… Regulus! Take your unit and escort the Subject to floor B7C via the rear exit, now! The rest, with me. We'll stop them here!" Kthulhutu ordered.

"Y-yes my lord. But you're really staying?" Regulus asked worriedly.

Kthulhutu placed a hand under his cloak and strode to the center, flanked by his Red Clad.

"Don't think for a second we'll be a meal for some succubus, unearned titles notwithstanding," he said, anticipation in his voice.

Regulus bowed and hurried everyone to a small rear door.

"Don't worry Subject, a service lift will take us from the tower to the sub-basement," Regulus reassured.

"I'm more concerned about Kthulhutu," Rolf replied.

"If he says he can handle it, I trust him absolutely." Regulus said confidently.

"Oh, and he gave me a name, I'm Rolf now," he added.

Regulus merely nodded in response.

A Knight tapped Rolf's shoulder. "See those red knights? Best of the best. They make us look like kids. Any bitch entering that room will wish they were never born."

...

"They're almost here!" an officer reported.

"Take your sedatives and elixirs. And if you care to see the sun rise again, find any exit and go!" Kthulhutu ordered. Many brave souls stayed, grabbing spare carbines.

The room's atmosphere changed as a suffocating aura of powerful succubi permeated it, enough to break a lesser man.

Brief screams, shouts and gunfire came from outside before falling silent.

Kthulhutu's hand twitched.

The air cracked. Something whooshed inside straight for the unsuspecting group - and smashed into a giant blue ward.

"Nice try, Mel," Kthulhutu quipped.

She jumped back from the cracked ward. Three other stunning succubi stood beside her at the entrance.

All were beautiful beyond compare, but none could match Mel. Her voluptuous figure had heart-stopping curves and inhuman proportions. Pink flawless skin was adorned with strange black markings. Bright red eyes typical of a succubus stared out above full lips. Large red wings contrasted the usual black or light colors of her kind. Small grey horns protruded from her flowing black hair. She wore no clothes, her ruinous assets on full display.

Numerous robed lesser demons and a few lesser succubi spilled in behind them.

"We'll clear the trash, sir," the remaining thaumaturge said. Him and his Knights charged past the preoccupied elites, guns blazing and magic spears in hand as they charged through the dark horde, aiming to push them back and clear the room, personal wellbeing be damned. Some brave souls followed to assist.

"You dare impede me again, you monster! And you brought more broken toys, how disgusting," Mel said venomously, eyeing only the Red Clad, paying the rabble no mind.

Kthulhutu smirked behind his mask. "Takes one to know one, does it not?" he spat back.

They wasted no more time on talk. One elite succubus moved first, trying to rush the impudent man.

"Slow," Kthulhutu remarked, not moving a muscle. The succubus' speed, boosted by wind magic, was absurdly fast - but laughably predictable.

The halberd-wielding Red Clad jabbed out a whooshing feint. The succubus avoided it, only to slam into the other's now flaming shield. Dazed and singed, she failed to avoid his telegraphed uppercut, embedding her deep into the thick metal ceiling. The room shook.

The other elites reacted. One charged a massive ball of lust mana. The other imbued her fists with the same energy and blasted forward to back up the first, now recovering.

"Predictable." Kthulhutu took one step and met the charging succubus with a heavy gauntleted fist before she could even attack, launching her at the broken door, neck twisted.

The last elite unleashed her magic at the group. They easily evaded in a flash, fanning out with perfect coordination.

"Unimaginative." Kthulhutu pointed and uttered a syllable, releasing a lightning-fast beam of holy energy that burned the succubus' chest. She convulsed in pain, her follow-up dispelled.

The men encircled the first succubus and unleashed hell upon her. Kthulhutu blinked behind and slashed her head with a flaming red dagger. The halberd wielder swept brutally wide, forcing the second back as the overpressure blew out windows. The sword wielder charged his blade with holy flames and delivered the coup de grace with a vertical strike.

The third fired a barrage of pressurized water beams from her fingertips to suppress them, each capable of rending steel. Kthulhutu reacted first, leaping over a beam towards her. The sword wielder ducked low and blocked with his glowing shield, diffusing the strike. The halberd wielder dropped his weapon and dashed aside with surprising speed to avoid a beam. Noticing the other succubus moving, he drew a colossal shotgun and unloaded a dozen room-shaking 6 gauge explosive slugs while sprinting, ragdolling her into a wall. As he reached her, he dropped the emptied gun and struck the hapless succubus with a brutal right cross, embedding her into the wall. A beam punched a small hole through his abdomen in response but he barely reacted.

Kthulhutu descended on the third, who sidestepped his lunge. Landing on one foot, he sprung with a manifested light blade in his offhand, leaving a deep burn across her torso. He didn't finish her, ducking to avoid Mel's surprise palm strike as she blinked from the doorway.

"How'd you-" Mel started to ask but Kthulhutu cut her off with a finger beam aimed inside her mouth, simultaneously grabbing her outstretched arm and throwing her into the other succubus.

"Worried for your subordinates?" he mocked as Mel sputtered in anger and embarrassment.

"YOU ARE NOTHING BUT CATTLE!" Mel screamed, releasing her full aura's fury as she got to her feet. The remaining humans inside seized in pleasure, drying out in seconds. The Red Clad tensed. Kthulhutu didn't react.

"Why don't we take this elsewhere?" Kthulhutu said mockingly, backing to the hidden wall to palm the button.

...

Rolf was nervous as he continued down the lift, the sounds of fighting above shaking the whole tower.

"You feel that energy? Must be the queen," Regulus said, with slight fear in his voice.

The Knights didn't take it well, twitching and groaning with frustration.

"What's wrong with them?" Rolf asked, seemingly unaffected.

"Damn, you really are a hero. I was ready to sedate you just in case," Regulus said.

"Excuse me?"

"A powerful succubus' aura, this strong, would have an unacclimated human thinking of nothing but sex, to an almost fatalistic degree." Regulus explained.

"Isn't Kthulhutu right next to it?" Rolf said.

"Hah! Such paltry tricks have zero effect on him and his elite, I assure you," Regulus said proudly.

...

Kthulhutu entered the observation room, assured of his guard's competency.

Mel charged, hands aglow with dark energy, face serious.

It's time.

He waited for her to clear the portal, covertly placing a ward behind her with one hand, the other under his cloak.

Mel finished lunging and noticed a ward spring up in front of her. "Such an obvious trick!" She evaded mid-air to circle and take his head with a vicious swipe.

"Heh." Before she finished turning, Kthulhutu drew a polished white sword covered in runes with an ornamental hilt, radiating intense energy.

Mel reacted immediately, using her wings and wind to dash back out of range - and into the ward Kthulhutu placed earlier.

Despite being slower, he had already initiated his attack before she moved to evade the first ward. By the time Mel thought to fly over, he closed the distance and thrust at her head…

The sword disappeared into a tiny portal centimeters from her skin. Kthulhutu charged his weaponless fist with holy energy and punched Mel's face in the split second before contact, stunning her with the brazen attack's sheer surprise.

Simultaneously, the sword manifested from an exit behind Mel. Kthulhutu grabbed it telekinetically and slashed through both her legs, preempting her attempt to jump. He thrust the sword through her abdomen, pulled it into his hand, and decapitated her with a lightning fast slash, leaving it held in place magically at the swing's apex.

Kthulhutu leaped back onto a projected mid-air ward, pulling out two handguns and telekinetically grabbing his back shotguns.

"Not so tough when we can actually harm you, now are we?" he mocked, unleashing the heavy armaments' fury while simultaneously mutilating her headless, legless body into pieces with the sword.

"YOU WRETCH!" Mel's disembodied voice boomed as her spirit pulled her body back together.

"Cheap." Kthulhutu remarked, dropping a handgun and resummoning his sword defensively in anticipation of her counter - a room-sized ball of darkness that came swiftly.

Kthulhutu channeled just the right amount of mana into the sword, the blade flaring a brilliant amber as he unleashed a razor thin slash of light that clashed violently with the fel sphere, consuming the room in a conflagration of broiling arcane energy, but leaving him completely unharmed.

Using the clash of energies as cover, Kthulhutu blinked towards the reformed Mel, Sacratus in hand. She sensed him coming and responded with a beam of dark energy powerful enough to vaporize a tank, which Kthulhutu was already dodging as he exited the teleport, using the opening to claim an arm. He then took aim with his handgun and fired a shot straight at Mel's supporting knee as she tried to pull back, the bullet enhanced with magic struck true and left her open for the merest second. A second Kthulhutu gleefully exploited by projecting a pre-charged Sacratus forwards with telekinesis, thrusting it straight it into her head, and detonating it violently as the potent dark and holy energies reacted.

But the tyrannical succubus queen would not die so easily.

"Just how much mana does your ugly soul need, ey?" Kthulhutu quipped as her body reformed in a blast of dark magic that forced him to jump back.

"FINE! I'LL BEAT YOU AT YOUR OWN GAME!" the enraged succubus screamed as she reinforced her body with all of her mana and shot forward at hypersonic speed, the resulting sonic boom cracking the already strained reinforced plexiglass windows enclosing the room.

A deafening CLANG! resounded as Kthulhutu somehow parried the strike at the last millisecond, nearly all of the mana in his body reinforcing his arm to prevent it from shattering as the pressure of Mel's misdirected strike tore the wall behind them to shreds, exposing the room to the cacophony outside.

Without wasting a single iota of motion, Kthulhutu followed up with his offhand, destroying Mel's left eye with a charged shot. This caused her to miss her followup kick, which Kthulhutu grabbed at the apex with one hand, squatted down, and flung her through the destroyed wall using reinforced strength.

In the following seconds it took for frustrated and disoriented Mel to use her wings to right herself, Kthulhutu threw Sacratus at her like a javelin, magical enhancement ensuring the now glowing sword struck true, impaling her heart. Kthulhutu then wrenched it out with telekinesis and slashed at the stunned succubus's wings, making her fall.

"Primary target's outside. Shoot." Kthulhutu spoke over a private line to someone.

With immediate reaction, two of the massive AA batteries affixed to the tower set their sights on the falling Mel. Twin 45mm autocannons delivered their judgement: total annihilation, to their hapless target.

…Or that's how it would've gone if this world played fair. Ten rounds met their mark, tearing bite sized chunks out of Mel's unnaturally strong body and tossing it like a ragdoll. Then her arm twitched.

A colossal shard of ice erupted underneath one of the turret's rotary bases, ripping it out of its mount and sending it plunging to the flaming void below.

Her battered body spun around, unleashing a spiralling beam of darkness. This succeeded in scoring a glowing line through the tower and clipping the second turret, melting it in twain.

A third turret now had Mel in its unfeeling gaze, but it mattered not. Recovered from her Sacratus-wrought injuries, the oversized rounds of the turrets were now of little consequence as Mel shot towards the observation deck better than any bullet could, both hands aglow with dark energy as she intended to vaporize it utterly from the outside.

Just as she was about to unleash her spell, a cold hand grabbed her from behind and an even colder voice chanted 'Dispel', followed by the characteristic sting of point blank divine buckshot to the back, shutting all of the magic in her body off as she was flung a couple of metres forwards.

"W-what?! You were still inside!" Mel exclaimed in shock as she spun around noticing Kthulhutu standing on a blue ward in mid-air.

"Sacratus is still inside." He half-lied as the sword already moving at high speed from telekinesis, flew past Mel, slashing off a leg as it diligently returned to the worthy hand of its master.

"So you won't die but you can't land a single hit. How embarrassing. How do you want us to score this? I promise CENTRAL's an impartial judge." Kthulhutu mocked the indignant genocidal girl.

"As arrogant as you are unwanted, monster! I can already sense your mana starting to wane. I don't need to hit a measly little human like you to win." She shot back.

"Measly little human or monster? Which am I?" Kthulhutu replied with snark which triggered another attack from Mel. She shot forward like before, confident the lack of available footing would restrict the man's movement.

*clang* another parry, a dodged follow-up and yet another *CLANG*. Kthulhutu easily dismantled her half-hearted assault without even moving from the ward, mercilessly punishing each failure. Giving up, Mel opted to fly backwards.

"Fine, I'll crush you with magic. Just wait there like a good masked monster!" Mel yelled as dozens of car-sized spears of ice manifested around Kthulhutu, awaiting the command to paste him from all possible angles.

You forgot one.

As the attack launched, Kthulhutu merely dispelled the ward he was standing on, allowing gravity to save him from the execution of ice by a hair's breadth.

Frustrated but growing increasingly familiar with Kthulhutu's exploitative manner of fighting, Mel launched several scythes of supersonic wind at the falling man. A mere distraction as she charged right at him, intending to take his head with her own hands.

Kthulhutu's eyes widened a fraction.

Tch, how annoying. Triage time then.

Using magic to project pure force, he spun his body around in mid-air, narrowly evading several of the wind blades. One of them grazed his abdomen, drawing first blood but he paid it no mind as the last blade was about to make direct contact. Mel was in sync, fish already raised as she came in from behind.

I could blink, but then that leaves me wide open to several lethal follow-ups. Mid-air my options are more limited and blinking has a cooldown. Good, I'll hand her a 'victory' then.

Choosing blunt force over slashing, Kthulhutu whipped Sacratus's edge in front of the wind blade at the last possible second with absurd precision, dispelling it mere inches from bisecting him. He already had a holy lance projected in his offhand, facing backwards, tilted slightly upward to spear Mel as she tried to take his head.

In truth, she could've tanked the painful blow and continued for Kthulhutu's head. But she didn't, instead adjusting her course slightly to punch him centre mass as he just about turned around.

The blow rang true with a cringeworthy crunch as Kthulhutu was sent flying backwards at speed. His chest armour was cracked, his ribs shattered and his pelvis broken as he sped towards the ground rapidly.

She's hanging back, waiting for gravity to do the job? Lazy girl. That means her guard has fully dropped.

…

The two Red Clad functioned together as a perfect killing machine.

Despite being outnumbered and metaphorically outgunned they easily matched the trio of battered elites blow for blow.

For every laser of water, blast of dark, wave of charm magic, supersonic physical attack: the armoured men had an answer to it all. With vehicle-grade gunfire, room sundering N^2 explosives, enchanted strikes or holy magic, they backed the succubi into a corner.

Sure, they were slower, a touch weaker, far more fragile and had no regenerative ability of note. But they had skill, purpose, teamwork and most importantly: experience.

The problem with succubi is for all their strength, they were insanely predictable. They had no tactics, barely any strategy and little creativity. Analytically this would be obvious when considering their near invulnerability, powerful magic and hedonistic culture.

Both parties moved about the room in a flurry barely trackable by a regular human eye. The control room was in ruins, mostly thanks to the weaponry of the Red Clad that easily wrought holes in the walls and floor with each missed shot. The superhuman strikes of the succubi were also not to be discounted and left their own dents in the room as the men danced around them.

In about ten minutes the room had died down. Two bleeding armoured men stood proudly in the centre with cracks and scorch marks covering their armour.

And on the floor were the corpses of three burning elder succubi…

But there was no respite to be had for the red demons condemned to servitude. The gunfire of the Knight team that had bravely charged the entrance had fallen silent. That only meant one thing.

More.

…

"Are we there yet?" Rolf asked, foot tapping with a mixture of impatient and nervousness.

"...are we really doing this?" one of the Knights replied in annoyance.

"Huh?" Rolf replied in genuine confusion.

Regulus merely shook his head at the cyclical prattling. Some last minute humour had to be good for the doomed men.

Several minutes later the lift finally stopped. Whereas Rolf had expected to greeted with another grand looking room, he was somewhat disappointed to find himself staring down a regular sized sealed door wearing a glowing sign adorned with the text 'B7C'.

As they exited the lift double-file, Regulus stopped for a few seconds to thumb a code in. The lift responded by dropping at an uncontrolled speed, giving everyone an unobstructed view of the seemingly bottomless and topless lift shaft.

"Huh, why'd you do that?" Rolf asked.

"No one needs to use that anymore." Regulus tersely replied, which seemed to give the naive Rolf a hint.

At last, the sealed door opened itself, presenting a nervous looking man in a labcoat with a badge that read 'Dr. Turner'.

"The device is almost ready, follow me, quickly!" Turner wasted no time in ushering them in.

A stark white corridor presented itself, fit with signs of scientific jargon that were indecipherable to Rolf.

"Oh look who FINALLY decided to show up. Chose to stop for a little picnic with the commander did we? Am I the only person in this fucking base that understands the TRUE gravity of this situation?!" an arrogant voice jeered from the other end of the corridor.

"Eugh… this guy" one of the Knights groaned just loud enough for Rolf to hear.

Turner briefly spun around to look at the complaining Knight, his pleading expression conveying everything they needed to know.

"S-sorry Dr. Polymath, I'm sure that Regulus and his men did everything they coul-." Turner tried to be diplomatic but was cut off as the man finally revealed himself, emerging from a doorway to the right.

"Did anyone fucking ask? You're my fucking assistant, not an oracle! If you were, we wouldn't need Mr. Waste of Neuronal Glycogen to come in here and taint all the precious cycled air. Speaking of, I hope that delusional fuckwit's gotten his ugly mug obliterated by some of MY finest N^2 already. If there's even a body left to stitch together after all this I'll…" Polymath briefly paused his unprompted tirade, realizing the tangent had run too long.

But I digress! Get in here Subject, I'm done with the calculations." the man, who cut an imposing and arrogant presence almost reminiscent of Kthulhutu himself, despite his haggard demeanour, boomed commandingly as Rolf reluctantly stepped closer.

"And us… Doctor P-?" Regulus began to ask.

"Turner! Handle the meatheads will you? My lab's median IQ is already at its lower bound with you running amuck." Polymath cut him off dismissively as he slammed the heavy door to the lab shut.

"Ah… sorry about him." Turner apologized diplomatically once Polymath was out of ear shot.

"The device will need excessive amounts of grid power. We moved it from the Crater with utmost secrecy but there's a chance they might sense something once we fire it up. It will take a few minutes for the 'good doctor' over there to calibrate once it activates, so I'd like you all to stay as vigilant as possible in the interim. Other than the lift shaft, it's possible they could enter from the rear maintenance hatch or one of the vents. I'll show where they are." Turner explained to the men.

"Understood. I'll keep a close eye for magical disturbances. Men. Fan out and watch ALL directions. This is the critical phase of the operation and our final duty as Objectivists. Get to it!" Regulus ordered with utmost seriousness.

"Roger that!" the men shouted with shared enthusiasm.

…

Rolf stepped in the lab with the boastful man. Despite his demeanour, Rolf instinctively felt assured by his presence.

The lab was an organized mess. Papers covered in intricate scrawl lined the floor. Cables and tubes crawled across the floor like it were a snake pit. And at the centre of it all was something truly remarkable.

Dominating the room was an otherworldly looking red circular device suspended from the ceiling by heavy duty looking cables. Surrounding it were countless Objectivist machines, clearly incongruent with the ring even to the inexperienced eyes of Rolf.

Rolf found himself lost staring into the deep wine red surface of the ring, glossy and devoid of the slightest blemish, with not a single sign of machining or imperfection to be found.

"Speechless are we? Good. As much as I hate to say it, you won't need much in the way of brainpower on the other side, so don't waste my priceless time with questions. Now, you're going to sit in that chair in the middle and keep as still as fucking possible, understood?" Polymath pointed to a creepy looking metal chair with a mechanism clearly designed for restraint that sat on a raised podium in the centre of the ring.

Rolf nodded in response and made his way to the chair. Polymath began setting him up with straps and restraints.

"I-is this really necessary?" Rolf dared ask.

"Look kid, if a single myofibril on that genetic hodgepodge abomination body of yours dares twitch the wrong fucking way.. Well, first of all I'll be sure to drag you to hell myself ahead of that slut queen's VIP ticket, and more importantly, the reference frame of the device will be all manner of FUBAR. You could end up anywhere, any time, any place, but most likely torn to shreds or embedded in a wall." Polymath crassly answered before continuing.

"Think of it like this. We poured all these resources into you so you can do precisely ONE job. That is: sit fucking still, shut your mouth and let the resident intellectual save the entire human species forevermore. Understood?!"

Rolf nodded, finding no possible avenue through which to respond to this crazy man.

"Good. I'm starting the device now. You shouldn't feel anything, but if you do, don't say anything because I don't care!" Polymath snapped as he walked back to his desk and rapidly typed in some commands.

"Turner! The ignition sequence is commencing! Keep an eye on the transformer!" Polymath yelled at the door.

…

Meanwhile a certain succubus with tattered clothes and slowly healing wounds skulked in the shadows.

That stupid tasty boy. I'm not letting ANYONE take him from me!

Having had a taste of Rolf's very distinct magical signature in their initial encounter, she'd first followed him to the lift room, only to be met with severe resistance.

Having barely escaped with her life, she hid in a nearby tunnel and sent telepathic word to her nearby sisters, informing them of potential hidden goodies near her location. Of course this was a ruse, as she didn't care about whatever the stupid humans were hiding behind those doors.

But the bait worked. Eventually meeting up with a succubus of a similar rank, she offered them all of the remaining demons under her command to help bust open the secret lab in exchange for a teleport to the surface. An expensive proposition, in terms of mana, but she somehow managed to sweet talk her way into a small debt, escaping to an abandoned lot outside Sector C.

Not that the debt matters anymore, hehe~ the crafty girl thought, knowing that the idiot was walking straight into a death trap. She could tell that whatever was behind those doors was regarded as more important than even their freak commander, for reasons inscrutable to her.

Now she just had to track down the boy… Normally a mean feat in such a noisy environment, but his uniqueness proved to be a fatal weakness. She could sense his vague direction even at distance as her head turned towards the assailed tower at the centre of the facility. Her lips twisting into a smug grin.

Perfect~ My sisters have broken in already. With my illusions, there should be plenty of opportunities for stealth.

…

As Kthulhutu flew helplessly, he did two things.

Firstly, he collected his shattered bones with telekinesis. It was a temporary measure and one that would constantly drain his mana. But holding his body together was important to prevent bone fragments from shredding his organs.

Secondly, he raised his sword to the sky.

"MITHRUS!" he yelled. In response the sword pulsed, glowing green runes of an ancient language, illegible even to Kthulhutu snaked their way onto the blade.

Seconds from death, an intense surge of wind surrounded Kthulhutu's body, arresting his momentum in all directions as the power of the ancient Holy Sword of Wind flooded through his body, filling him with a pleasant sense of weightlessness.

Now for some juice. No sense fussing about erosion now.

He fished out an injector filled with a glowing yellow fluid and jammed it into his arm, the characteristic sting of condensed holy energy surging through his veins.

"Reverse Gale!" Kthulhutu held the sword forward and shot forth like a bullet of wind, following the exact trajectory he'd just traversed at even greater speed.

The clueless Mel had only a split-second to react as the man she'd thought critically wounded raced toward her with a speed comparable only to her own. The shock of seeing the cloak of wind surrounding him sealed her fate as Sacratus flicked out in a quick motion, beheading her… again.

Kthulhutu wasted no time spinning around to face Mel, the wind allowing him free movement in the sky as he observed her reaction.

"I-impossible. The Holy Sword of Wind… How do you have such a thing?!" Mel's disembodied voice stated in disbelief, a hint of unease creeping in.

But instead of indulging in conversation, Kthulhutu charged at her headless body and continued his attack, launching a flurry of slashes at the shocked succubus.

Mel's half-hearted counterattacks were dismantled swiftly and gracefully. With the speed between the two more or less equalized, she stood little chance of hitting the vastly more skilled opponent with physical attacks.

"What? Thought Sacratus was just some weird fluke? Your ancestors figured they buried this little legend. Turns out they didn't try hard enough. They should've consulted the Qax." Kthulhutu remarked smugly, a false front in actuality.

I don't get long with this thing. Not with all the mana I used already. And god forbid I need to release Amihan as well. This cheap kill had better be worth its weight in broken bone.

…

One of the Knights stood by his lonesome, watching one of the corridor's obligatory vents. Normally such a task'd be so boring he'd be occupying himself by counting the rivets on the walls. But the situation was grave enough, that even this mundane task commanded his full attention.

He was one of the least magically apt Knights in the squad. A fact they'd all soon regret.

His helmet assisted hearing picked up sounds from the vent. Raising his weapon, the Knight cocked his head as he studied the sound for a moment. It sounded neither like a humanoid crawling around nor the pitter-patter of a rodent. But it persisted.

"Squad I hear some-" he went to say over his radio but was rudely cut off by a non-descript figure that leapt out of the vent and transformed into a succubus mid-air. Before he could even raise his gun, she grabbed his neck and twisted it, his heavy body collapsing to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

"Shit, succubus!" the closest Knight yelled, as the entire squad became aware of their comrade's sudden flatline. He raised his gun and released a stream of 12.5mm absolution at full auto, but the girl was agile, bouncing from wall to wall to avoid the lion's share of the fire. By the time the others reached him, a testament to their foolishly thin formation, it was already too late as the unfortunate Knight had been flung against a wall, groaning in pain with several fractured vertebrae.

"Hey, doesn't this bitch look familiar?!" one of the responding Knights remarked as him and his buddy opened fire together.

The succubus attempted a repeat of her previous method, using the enclosed space to bounce around and evade the bullets. But with two men trained on her and more fast approaching, it was impossible to avoid catching a few bullets which made her stumble. Still, she crept dangerously close until a yellow magic circle appeared on the floor right beneath her, forcing her to leap away from an attempted skewering, as a wall of holy spears sprung from the ground.

"She does. It's the same one from Sector C. Don't tell me…" the newly arrived Regulus finished his thought and clammed up, his posture stiffening.

"We've got to keep her away from the subject at all costs! That's her real target!" Regulus barked as the Knights crouched in formation and formed a physical blockade, staring down the succubus through their red visors.

"What are you all doing down in this dingy place hmmmmm?~ I recognize you boys. You're trying to hide him from me. But that won't work when I'm this close~" she licked her lips and started chanting. The Knights immediately opened fire. But she was already used to the sting of their bullets.

"Shit, she's teleporting boss!" one of the more perceptive Knights yelled over the cacophony in a panic.

"Impossible, she can't safely teleport to somewhere she hasn't seen… unless…" the blood drained from Regulus's face as he realised his mistake.

…

Polymath fussed with his terminal, fingers clattering away fiendishly as he solved wave functions at record speed, hopped up on heart attacking inducing doses of his own stimulants.

"Why does CENTRAL have to be at full capacity already. Minds like mine aren't fit for this kind of worthless busywork. If only we had more programmers able to tell their pointers apart from their references and their assholes from their mouth holes in this den of mankind's 'best'" Polymath muttered to himself as he completed the calculations.

"Just one more minute and the new human race will live in perpetual debt to your excellency!"

"Initiating the sanctioned rape of space and time!" he punctuated his ill-fitting joke with a slam of the literal red button on his desk for dramatic flair.

The strange device lit up and started to hum as all of the lights in the base flickered in turn, the vast power reserves of mankind's last barely keeping up with the greedy contraption.

Rolf felt a shiver up his spine. But not an uncharacteristic one, a familiar one. Something was going to happen, he could just tell…

"Language selected: Unified English: 2XXX. Simple mode enabled. Warning: expressive power mismatch. Translation will be mangled for coherency." A robotic female voice chirped from the machine.

"Say what?! What cocky bitch did Kthulhutu's boys program into this machine?" Polymath barked in offense.

"Commencing pre-setup. Calculating intra-real environment variables."

"Transmission status: feasible. Calculating Gap vector."

"Found: suitable four-vector. Integrating with local Anima quaternion…"

"Pre-conditions met. Commencing setup. Establishing sympathetic link to subject."

Rolf felt something strange enter his mind. But he remained calm and resolute. Countless images began flashing through his mind. Places he'd never seen, people he'd never met, events he'd never experienced. It felt very much like the memories that'd flashed in his mind before, except these ones were being forcefully awakened as the machine rifled through his mind, looking for something in particular.

"Found matching engram. Simulating connection… complete!"

Finally the machine activated proper as the inner surface of the ring became pitch black. Space itself warped around it, bending the light around the device as the ring assumed a spherical appearance.

Rolf's eyes widened in fear but he dared not say anything.

"Hahahaha SPACE TIME BECOMES MINE TO CONQUER!" Polymath cackled maniacially as the voice informed him of the activation of some 'Post-Berkowitz pseudo Laptian Foldless Drive', whatever that low IQ nonsense meant.

"Warning: Paraneutrinos detected."

"As if I care! Back when science had balls we'd stick novel radioactives in glass jars and leave them on shelves. Cancer would select the genetic losers for us!" Polymath yelled at the device in some half-manic tangent.

…

"Ara~ I hope you aren't harming my property with that… thing." a saccharine voice interjected as a familiar succubus appeared in the room in a whoosh of displaced air.

To be frank, her veil of confidence shattered as soon as she saw the alien device warping space before her very eyes. Whatever it was, it felt like a perversion of the natural order. Something that shouldn't exist. Words she'd once reserved for that masked creep and his toys.

Polymath spun around, his eyes narrowing to slits behind his glasses as he eyed the succubus that had just materialised in HIS domain.

"You…you BITCH! How DARE you defile my sanctum with your filthy demonic presence!" Polymath snarled, spittle flying from his lips. "I've spent YEARS perfecting this technology, and I won't let some braindead bimbo with oversized tits ruin everything!" he thumbed a button under his desk, opening the door and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"AND WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU USELESS TIN CANS DOING?! THERE'S A WHORE IN MY FUCKING LAB, SECONDS AWAY FROM OUR FUCKING ASCENSION. DO YOU TRUMPED UP MANALESS TROGLODYTIC SECOND RATE RED CLAD REJECT LOSERS HAVE A SINGLE FUCKING CLUE WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF THIS DEVICE GETS INTER-" his manic rant was silenced as the succubus charged at him, an irritated expression on her face.

"Oh no you don't!" He dove out of the way as the succubus slammed into his desk, tipping it and sending the keyboard, screen and dozens of papers flying.

…

Already sprinting desperately, Regulus's worst fears were confirmed when he heard the enraged shouting of Polymath echo down the corridor.

"Shit! CHARGE YOUR LEGS WITH MAGIC UNTIL YOUR MUSCLES TEAR ASUNDER. WE MUST STOP HER!" Regulus bellowed as the Knights bounded past the terrified Turner, who was crouched around the corner with his sidearm drawn.

…

Polymath drew his sidearm and aimed it not at the succubus but at Rolf. "HE'S THE ONE YOU WANT ISN'T HE? TO BE FRANK, I'D RATHER SHOOT THE COMMANDER'S LITTLE PET PROJECT DEAD THAN LET YOUR CUM STAINED HANDS ANYWHERE NEAR THIS WORK OF DIVINE INTELLECT! I'LL PASS THROUGH IT MY FUCKING SELF I HAVE TO!" Polymath screamed maniacally, giving the succubus a second of pause. But then her mind was made as she fired a quick burst of wind, seeking to disarm him.

In that moment, six things happened.

The machine cheerfully announced it was an estimated five seconds from commencing transfer as the intensity of the spatial warping increased, to the point the room started to redshift.

Regulus bounded in, holy spear already in a throwing motion.

Polymath depressed the trigger.

The gust of wind hit Polymath at an odd angle, causing his arm to jerk towards Regulus as the gun went off.

The bullet meant for Rolf instead struck Regulus in the right shoulder, causing his already frayed nerves to flinch in exaggerated fashion as he released the spear at an odd angle, grazing the succubus and landing right on one of the machines attached to the dark ring.

The machine instantly melted as it made contact with the searing spear, belching out acrid smoke and filling the room with the smell of ozone as it sparked incessantly.

"T-THE FUCKING REGULAT-" Polymath went to scream but it was too late.

…

Kthulhutu and Mel continued their deadly dance in the polluted skies of manmade hell. As well as it seemed to be going for Kthulhutu, he could feel his movements starting to slow, his mana waning and the sting of erosion in his joints. He had to finish Mel soon or her soul, bloated from the consumption of countless humans would outlast him.

He'd expected more quips from Mel but she was dead-silent, taking the battle even more seriously than him, which was very out of character, and a testament to how far he'd pushed her.

Just one… final push.

You remember it, don't you Mel? The legend of the holy swords. There were two. Mithrus AND…" Kthulhutu announced expectantly as he raised the sword up.

"A-are you serio-"

WARNING: NON-STANDARD CURVATURE DETECTED.

A loud alert blared, disrupting their little conversation. Kthulhutu instantly stiffened up, his blood freezing solid as he heard something that should never be said.

Mel raised an eyebrow at the shift in his demeanour.

"What's wrong? Bag of bolts got your tong-"

WARNING: PROBABLE VOID STATE VIOLATION IN PROGRESS.

"Oh fuck…" Kthulhutu muttered, his voice quiet and contemplative, a complete departure from his usual character.

Even Mel was concerned now.

He never behaves like this. What the hell does that alert mean? What's going on? Why'd he stop attacking?!

"ALERT LEVEL EPSILON ENACTED. HAMMER DOWN PROTOCOL INITIATED. EVACUATE TO THE MINIMUM SAFE DISTANCE OF: TWO HUNDRED FIFTY KILOMETRES"

Right on cue, silo doors all around the base started to grind open, an inexorable yawn of desolation. No one but Kthulhutu and CENTRAL knew what alert level 'Epsilon' was supposed to mean, but everyone knew what hammer down meant as confusion and panic set in around the base.

"HEY! Masked freak to Earth?! What is your stupid machine doing?!" Mel screamed at Kthulhutu as the dots connected in her head.

"They fucked up worse than anticipated. Sorry. I don't know what's going to happen next." He pointed at the ground beneath Sector A. Well, what used to be ground. Instead, a sea of boundless darkness met their gaze, slowly creeping outward like the maw of an elder god. Light began to bend as everything was redshifted and blueshifted respectively.

Mel merely floated there in mid-air, rendered speechless for the first time in her long twisted life.

"Well! Now we're all fucked, probably because of the meddling of one of your idiots, we can take the time to compare scores!" Kthulhutu suddenly snapped back to normal, assuming a tone of flawless jade.

Mel gawked at this sudden shift, her shock expressing to contempt and disgust at the 'man' before her.

"Let's see… how many times did I land a lethal blow?! I lost count! Good thing I have a buddy keeping score! Oh, how many hits did you land? Two… no it was three, I'll give you that graze. You got one good hit in, I'll give you that. Overall: a disappointing performance for the succubus queen I must say. Irrespective of what happens next, it looks like me and CENTRAL are in agreement, the king of humanity won this bout." he jested in a mirthless sardonic voice.

"What the fuck?! And they wonder why I call you a monster! Insane depraved monster idiot masked creep! I'll see you in hell where you belong!" were Mel's incredulous parting words as everything faded to black.

She swore… that's a first.

PROLOGUE ENDED

AN: It doesn't take a genius to figure out that they're ending up in MGE next chapter, so don't worry, there won't be any more 'Melian' succubi for now.

If anyone figures out which games are being referenced by the Objectivist's world, I salute you, that's some obscure knowledge.