Arackniss and Blitzo had been dispatched to deal with some shark demons that patrols had spotted around the borders of Husker's territory. At first, they believed it was only about ten sharks or so and sending the two of them seemed more than sufficient. If anything, it felt like overkill. Either one of them could easily handle twenty shark demons. However, things quickly became a mess.
They had expected a small skirmish, a quick in-and-out mission to handle a minor threat at the border. But what they found was nothing short of an army. Instead of the ten or twenty shark demons they had prepared for, there were a hundred, their sleek, menacing forms crowding the border like a tidal wave of terror. The sight of so many enemies set their hearts racing, but there was no time for hesitation.
Arackniss and Blitzo immediately sprang into action, their instincts kicking in. Arackniss, with his multiple arms and deadly precision, unleashed a barrage of bullets from his modified machine guns. Each shot was aimed to kill, tearing through the sharks' tough hides and sending spurts of blood into the air. Blitzo, agile and ferocious, darted around the battlefield with his dual pistols, his shots landing with deadly accuracy.
As one shark fell, another took its place. It was chaos, pure and simple. The air was filled with the deafening sounds of gunfire and the guttural roars of the shark demons. Blood splattered the ground, creating a slick, crimson sea underfoot. The scent of iron and the stench of death hung heavy in the air, mingling with the salty tang of the sharks' oceanic origins.
"Fuck! There's too many of them!" Blitzo yelled, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of battle. He dodged a snapping jaw, rolling to the side and firing a shot straight into the beast's eye.
Arackniss gritted his teeth, his face a mask of determination and fury. "Just keep shooting! We can't let them breach the border!" His multiple eyes darted around, tracking the relentless wave of enemies. With each pull of the trigger, he focused on one goal: survive.
The two of them fought with everything they had, but it was an uphill battle. Their ammo was running low, and fatigue was starting to set in. Blitzo's muscles burned with the effort of constant movement, and Arackniss felt the strain of operating multiple weapons simultaneously. They were exhausted, panting, and covered with blood, both theirs and the sharks'. Yet, they were not giving up that easily. They couldn't afford to.
"Shit! We're gonna be fish food if this keeps up!" Blitzo growled, his eyes scanning for any sign of relief.
Then, just when things were starting to look dire, a series of explosions erupted around the battlefield. The ground shook with the force of the blasts, and chunks of shark demons were sent flying in all directions. The sudden onslaught of explosions created a momentary lull in the battle, a brief window of opportunity.
"What the hell?!" Arackniss shouted, using the distraction to reload his guns. His many eyes searched for the source of the explosions.
From the other side of the battlefield, more explosions sounded. It was a perfect pincer attack, catching the shark demons in a deadly crossfire. Arackniss and Blitzo took full advantage of the chaos, pushing forward with renewed vigor. They fired relentlessly, their determination unwavering as they decimated shark demon after shark demon.
Blitzo let out a whoop of triumph, his eyes gleaming with adrenaline. "Whoever's helping us, keep it coming!"
The battlefield was a scene of utter destruction. The once formidable army of shark demons was being torn apart from both sides. As Arackniss and Blitzo pressed on, firing from one side, the explosions continued to decimate the sharks from the other. It was a coordinated effort that left no room for the shark demons to escape.
Finally, as the last of the shark demons fell, silence descended upon the battlefield. The only sounds were the ragged breaths of Arackniss and Blitzo and the distant crackle of dying flames. The two fighters stood amidst the carnage, their bodies trembling with exhaustion and relief.
From the smoke and debris, a figure emerged. Cherri Bomb, her cyclopean eye shining with fierce joy, approached them. Her smile was wide, all adrenaline and bloodthirst. "Looks like you boys could use a hand!"
Arackniss and Blitzo grinned up at her, their faces smudged with dirt and blood. "Cherri, you timing was perfect," Arackniss said, his voice hoarse but filled with gratitude.
Blitzo let out a breathless laugh. "You sure know how to make an entrance."
Cherri Bomb laughed, her smile never fading. "I couldn't let you two have all the fun. Besides, someone had to make sure you idiots didn't get yourselves killed."
Arackniss and Blitzo laughed, the sound mingling with the lingering echoes of the battle. They had done it. Against overwhelming odds, they had prevailed. The bond forged in the heat of battle was strong, and in that moment, they felt invincible.
Just then, Husker made his appearance. The cat overlord descended from the sky, his large wings spread wide and menacing. His eyes glowed an otherworldly gold, the cat pupils dilated in fury. His normally sleek fur was puffed up in anger, and his claws were elongated and ready to tear open throats. In moments like this, one came to appreciate the demon within the normally civilized and kind Husker. There was a reason he reached overlord status in only a decade or so.
When Husker landed before Arackniss, Cherri, and Blitzo, several vans came squealing to a halt behind him. A security team consisting of hellhounds, imps, and imposing sinners stood behind their overlord, holding an array of guns, swords, axes, and various other weapons. They looked ready for war, just as they did when they had descended on Henroin's territory. However, they turned to look confused when they found no enemy to fight, only their three allies and a small pond of blood formed from all the dead shark demons.
Husker's rage began to subside. His form returned to his usual well-mannered demeanor, the transformation as remarkable as it was swift. He sighed deeply, his shoulders relaxing as he surveyed the scene. "Why is it always the three of you?" he asked, a mix of exasperation and amusement in his tone.
Cherri chuckled, her one eye twinkling with mischief. "Just wait for when my bestie is released from your hospital wing. Then it will be the four of us, and it will be glorious!"
Arackniss and Blitzo laughed, their relief evident in their voices. Husker turned to Cherri with a deadpan expression. "Please don't," he said, though a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Husker then turned to the security team behind him, his tone shifting to one of authority. "Some of you, get these three to the hospital wing to be checked over. The rest of you, secure the scene and figure out who in Satan's name has just signed their death warrant!"
The security team snapped into action. A group of hellhounds and imps gently helped Arackniss, Cherri, and Blitzo to their feet, leading them toward the waiting vans. The three of them, despite their exhaustion, exchanged grins, they had faced overwhelming odds and come out on top. As they were escorted away, they felt a strange mix of pride and relief.
Meanwhile, the rest of Husker's security team spread out across the battlefield, securing the area and beginning the grim task of identifying the bodies. Husker watched them for a moment before turning his gaze back to his three friends, now safely on their way to the hospital wing. He couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and protectiveness for them. They were reckless, stubborn, and far too brave for their own good, but they were also his allies—his family in this twisted afterlife.
As the vans drove off, Husker's mind turned to the next steps. Someone had orchestrated this attack, and they would pay dearly for it. He flexed his claws, the anger simmering just below the surface. Whoever had dared to threaten his territory, his people, would soon learn the true meaning of fear.
Back in the van, Arackniss, Cherri, and Blitzo leaned against the seats, their adrenaline finally ebbing away. Cherri turned to her friends, her smile tired but triumphant. "We did good, guys. We really did."
Arackniss nodded, his many eyes closing briefly in exhaustion. "Yeah, but I hope we never have to do that again."
Blitzo chuckled, though the sound was more a wheeze than a laugh. "Come on, Niss. You know we'll be back in the thick of it soon enough."
They all laughed, the sound a mix of relief and camaraderie. They had faced hell together and come out alive. As the van sped towards the hospital wing, they allowed themselves a moment of peace.
Meanwhile, at his palace, Stolas was worriedly pacing his living room. Today had been wonderful; he had opened a portal so Loona could come to play with Octavia. The eleven-year-old girl and his six-year-old daughter were becoming the best of friends, their bond as tight as it had been on day one. Stolas had even joined them, giving an impromptu magical lesson, much to the delight of the girls. They had laughed, their eyes sparkling with curiosity and joy as they tried simple spells under Stolas' guidance. For the first time in a long while, Stolas felt a true connection with Octavia, her bright smile and eager questions filling him with a sense of accomplishment and warmth.
Despite months of therapy, the echoes of Stella's voice still haunted him some days, calling him boring and useless. But today, he had felt none of that. Magic seemed to be the bridge between him and the girls, a shared love that brought them closer. The sight of Loona and Octavia practicing their spells together, their laughter echoing through the grand halls of the palace, had been a balm to Stolas' weary soul.
As the day wound down, Stolas started to feel uneasy. Blitzo had not called to have Loona portaled back to The Cat's Den. Blitzo's care for his daughter was always exemplary; he was never late picking up Loona from her visits to Stolas' castle. Anxiety gnawed at Stolas as he repeatedly checked his phone, hoping for a message or a missed call. Hours passed, and the growing silence became deafening.
Then the call came, and Stolas' heart almost stopped. Overlord Husker explained that Blitzo had gotten hurt during his last mission and was now recovering in the hospital wing. Panic surged through Stolas, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Without hesitation, he called for Loona and Octavia, who were playing quietly in the corner, and quickly portaled them straight into The Cat's Den Hospital Wing.
Upon arrival, they found two spider-sinners and a cyclops nearby, but Stolas had eyes only for the imp with his chest bandaged on the hospital bed. The sight of Blitzo lying there, wounded and vulnerable, made his heart clench painfully. Loona and Octavia immediately burst into tears, their cries piercing the sterile air of the hospital wing.
Stolas realized with a pang of guilt that maybe he hadn't thought this through. Seeing their father figure hurt was clearly terrifying for the girls. Blitzo, wincing in pain, still managed to pull Loona and Octavia into a hug, trying to soothe them despite his own discomfort. His glare turned to Stolas, scolding him for bringing the girls and frightening them.
"Stolas, what were you thinking? They're scared!" Blitzo's voice was strained, a mix of pain and frustration.
But Stolas couldn't hold back his emotions any longer. Tears streamed down his face as he hooted like an owl in distress, his sorrow and fear pouring out. He wrapped his arms around his three most important people, his sobs echoing through the room.
"I'm so sorry, Blitzy," Stolas choked out between sobs. "I didn't think... I was just so worried."
Blitzo tried to protest, his expression softening at the sight of Stolas' genuine distress. But he was too tired and too sore to argue. He sighed deeply, resigning himself to the embrace, and allowed the big owl to tend to him.
"Alright, alright, just... calm down, Stolas. I'm okay, really," Blitzo said, his voice gentle now, trying to reassure the owl.
Loona and Octavia clung to Blitzo, their tears slowly subsiding as they felt the steady beat of his heart beneath the bandages. Stolas pulled back slightly, his eyes red and puffy, but a look of relief finally starting to replace the worry.
"I'm just glad you're alright," Stolas said softly, his hand gently caressing Blitzo's head.
Blitzo managed a weak smile, his eyes filled with a mix of exhaustion and gratitude. "I'm tougher than I look, you know. I'll be back on my feet in no time."
The tension in the room slowly eased, the palpable fear giving way to a comforting sense of togetherness. Stolas, Loona, and Octavia stayed by Blitzo's side, the warmth of their presence a balm to his injuries.
Once Blitzo, Arackniss, and Cherri were given the okay from their doctors, they were escorted out of the hospital wing. Stolas, ever the concerned friend, took Blitzo, Loona, and Octavia to Blitzo's two-bedroom cabin. He was intent on taking care of Blitzo for the night, making sure he had everything he needed to recover comfortably. Loona and Octavia, still shaken from seeing Blitzo hurt, trailed along, their expressions a mix of worry and relief.
However, Angel, Arackniss, and Cherri had a different mission. They headed straight for Husker's office, their steps quick and determined. They needed to find out who had dared to breach the security of The Cat's Den and understand who they were about to go to war against. Because there was no way Husker would let something like this slide—no, Husker was on a warpath. Angel and Arackniss, as members of his staff, would stand with him, and Cherri would never let her friends fight without her having their backs.
When they entered Husker's office, they found him poring over a mountain of papers on his desk. His face was a mask of anger and frustration, eyes darting across documents and maps, searching for answers or perhaps planning his next move. As they entered, Husker sighed heavily and motioned for them to sit down.
The three of them knew how pissed Husker was when he didn't offer them a drink. Husker was always ready to mix drinks, no matter the time or situation. It was his way of maintaining a semblance of hospitality and normalcy in the chaos of Hell. But right now, his mind was elsewhere, and his usual courtesies were forgotten.
His eyes briefly scanned the bandages around Arackniss and Cherri, and his frown deepened. His people—and yes, he was counting Cherri as one of them—were hurt, and all because of a stupid pimp. The sight of their injuries fueled his anger, making his blood boil with the need for retribution.
Husker began speaking without preamble. He knew why they were there, after all. "Valentino sent those sharks," he stated bluntly.
The room fell silent as the weight of his words settled over them. Angel's face crumpled, and tears streamed down his cheeks. His voice was choked with guilt and sorrow as he spoke. "This is all my fault. Valentino attacked because of me."
Arackniss and Cherri immediately moved to comfort him. Arackniss placed a reassuring hand on Angel's shoulder, his voice firm yet gentle. "Angel, no. This isn't your fault."
Cherri nodded in agreement, her expression fierce. "Valentino's been looking for a reason to start trouble. Don't put this all on yourself."
Husker let out a weary sigh, leaning back in his chair. "Angel, you're not that important."
Arackniss and Cherri turned to Husker, their faces livid. Arackniss opened his mouth to retort, but Angel just stared at Husker, confused and hurt. Husker ignored their anger and continued speaking, his tone serious and matter of fact.
"Valentino was always going to start trouble. His plan has always been to turn The Cat's Den territory into another Strip Street, a den of sex and nighttime entertainment. This goes beyond you, Angel."
Seeing their confusion, Husker pulled out a map from the stack on his desk and laid it out before them. "Look," he said, pointing at various points on the map. "This is how Pentagram City is divided between the overlords, both small-time and big-time."
Angel saw it first. "There," he pointed, his voice trembling with realization. "That's Valentino's biggest strip club. Three floors and an entire block wide, with a sex dungeon in the basement."
"In between his strip club and our casino and resort," Arackniss muttered, his many eyes narrowing in recognition. "That's the Pit Boss Putters mini golf course."
Arackniss cursed, sharing a memory. "My papa had issues before he was taken out by you, Husker. I thought he was paranoid when he started saying Valentino was trying to run him out of his territory. When you came for us, I thought he was right. But it was Valentino causing the problems all along."
Husker nodded. "Valentino might be pissed about losing Angel to us, but this goes beyond him. This is Hell's game, and this is how overlords behave. Valentino wants our territory, and he's willing to go to war for it."
Angel, his tears now drying, looked at Husker with a mix of determination and fear. "So, what do we do now?"
Husker's eyes blazed with fury. "We fight back. Valentino wants a war, he's going to get one. And we'll make sure he regrets ever thinking he could challenge us."
Cherri grinned, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "I'm with you. Let's blow his plans to hell."
Arackniss nodded in agreement. "Yeah, let's show him what happens when you mess with The Cat's Den."
Husker's expression softened just a fraction as he looked at his people. Valentino had just singed his death warrant. No one messes with the Gambling Overlord and lives to tell the tale.