The hay that covered the floor made poor resting grounds for the angels, at least in contrast to their silk queen-sized beds. These were not sleeping quarters to be given to those with power. No, these were the resting rooms of the property, which were no different from cattle. To think, they were lucky to get a barn to rest in rather than a dungeon with men sleeping with them. As if what could happen helped them with what they did. They were once beings capable of carving whole sections of hell apart, striking fear into what remained, Now, they were property to be managed by humans that seem to have no respect for their bodies. How a single day can change so much.
The clanging of metal pots was heard over the distance, as fellow angels emerged groggily from their cells. As if life from heaven wasn't bad enough, they were being served something they could not uncover. As Deliah was walking out of the barn into their new feeding grounds, she noticed the soldiers that had imprisoned her were not taking their occupation in Hell comfortably. Complaints were rampant of how they were without reinforcements, how the air felt toxic to breathe, or how their armor was just attached to their bodies. That last one surprised them, as they were used to using their armor rarely in their lives. Only in enemy territory did they need to wear it, as it allowed them to rest without the need to adjust themselves constantly. Even the space marines were disturbed by the revelation, as their meals were coming from the remains of their enemies, without any actual proteins to squeeze out of them. Their meal was hollow. Still, complaints were silent, as the sons of the Emperor were content to watch over the harpies, assured that whatever happens next, the xenos will learn their place.
The bowls were filled with a strange stew, completely devoid of flavor, and yet completely rancid. The color was a dulled red, with no sides or condiments to add flavor or variety. A spoon to the meal was only able to make this liquid stretch, before releasing its portion from the collection of goo. Delilah was trying to see what this collection of contents could have originated from. Then, she saw two tech priests carrying a cartwheel filled with sinner carcasses into a room connected to the cafetorium. Then came out another tech priest, this time holding a cauldron filled with the mysterious slime. Then, it became clear, morbidly clear. These were the results of grinding down the remains of demons into a disgusting porridge, the very meals the soldiers spoke of earlier. To think these beasts would believe she would willingly consume this grime. She proudly stood up and moved to walk away. She should not have been surprised when one of the so-called knights stopped her.
"Eat your corpse stew, harpy." Delilah had grown used to the slanderous title quite easily, but the fact she was ordered to devour this sludge was repulsive. She stood up to this ogre, unafraid of whatever they would do. "Angels do not require sustenance." The hulk picked up the bowl and tapped her body with it, causing the contents to jiggle. "I'll know when I see one. Now eat." Delilah was not sure whether to be more insulted by the presumption she wasn't an angel, or whether he would know what an angel was if it slapped him in the face. So many ideas to retaliate churned through her mind, all of them resulting in terrible escalation.
She decided to walk away, no sense in escalation. What she failed to realize was the marine had not given her request. Her hand was grabbed with extreme force, enough to shatter it. She was then pulled toward the soldier and saw him shoving his other hand into her mouth. What was he planning to do? Oh God, this was so painful! With one tug, the lower jaw was brutally removed. Trying to scream from the pain, Delilah could only gurgle and bellow like an otter. Flailing from the sheer pain, she was powerless to stop the zealot from shoving the goo down her throat. Having no room to spit it out, her body was coerced to devour it. Once the bowl was empty, the marine dropped his prisoner onto the floor, allowing her time to breathe and repair.
The eyes of this sentinel turned to the rest of the harpies, who swiftly gulped up the contents of their bowl, seeing the alternatives to be unwanted. The marine then walks out, his part served. With a moment of silence, he looked to the sky, witnessing alien constellations. Symbols foreign, he knew not where he was in the galaxy. It stands to reason thus, that they were not in their former galaxy. But in his heart, these facts mattered little. They found a way into this realm, surely others of the imperium will discover it themselves. And when they do, they will see another world under the command of the Emporer, as all worlds will be.
…
The halls are filled with noises, from multiple devices recording every movement that traverses hell. Everything from the latest devil cake recipe to discussions from fresh unions ready for harvesting. Information is key to control, so the sight of something Vox couldn't understand was troubling. If they are for, they need to be removed. Considering their numbers and power over angels, that would be difficult. If they are friendly, he would need to open a peaceful negotiation. Considering their blind zealotry, there would be no easy way to win them over. Their cultures were alien, their ideas barbaric. If left unchecked, the parasites will destroy how hell works. And Vox has invested too much time into this place to simply give up.
Of all the surges of profits he's experienced so far, Valentino has witnessed the greatest one yet. So many people are scared for their lives after the dinosaurs swarmed hell. Meaning Hell was in search of some escapism. A product Val had in abundance. Not only that, with homes destroyed, people were desperate for homes and jobs. Ohohohohohoho, this was the greatest gift he could have received aside from the ownership of Hell itself.
"Voxxie, baby! Where do you keep your neon light sticks? I just had a great cyberpunk theme in my new-" "Do…you mind? I-I am working on this Bug invasion problem. You know? The one where our CUSTOMERS AREN'T COMFORTABLE WITH THEIR SECURITY PRODUCTS ANYMORE?!" "Yes yes yes, the one that causes the survivors to get under some strange dinosaur stress. The survivors are eating up our new premium porn content like they just can't get enough!" Electricity fills the room, as the TV demon is not happy with Vallentino's nonchalant attitude. Of course, the moth demon knows how to make the big and strong Vox melt for him. "Awww, baby. You know you can't argue with the numbers. How many demons aren't watching my work? Hmmmm?" Vox could almost rip the jaw of his partner's stupid smug face, before eventually sighing and responding, "Not many." "Greeeeat! And how many people purchase replacements for their security equipment?" Vox is silent toward this question, and good ol' Val knew exactly why. "I said, how mannnnnny replacements do they order?" "...few." "RIGHT! So the chance to take over with the paranoid overlords is ripe for exploitation. Come on, nature abhors a power vacuum, it leaves room for you and meeeee!"
To think, Vox gave this silver-tongued devil an audience online. Taking the pimp's extended hand, he began to dance as they finished the lyrics. "The future of hell belongs to the V's!" This feeling, when he spent time with Val…it always found a way to trigger him. Emotions never before noticed…the radio demon. Vox shoved Mr big dick aside to run some final calculations, much to his own annoyance a Val wasn't paying attention…again. "You know you can't argue with numbers, Vox." "That's ignoring the point, Val. The bugs are going to-"
"Ooooh, you think some poor saps with a bug problem are our biggest problems?" Velvette walks into Vox's lair, annoying the TV demon further. Her antics were more endurible, but combine with Val and the stress o the invaders, Vox was beginning to lose his temper. Vel didn't seem to care of the consequenses of her actions, as usual. But one statement soon became the perfect seque to Vox's true concerns. "You know the heavens sents two battleions, right?"
"I see-see privacy has n-no meaning. Yes, the zealots are being watched with great -ec-ec-IALLY AFTER THIS!" A collection of images pop out from their monitors, containing images of complete horror: Sigh…any suggestions?" A moment of silence washed over the group, as reality became clearer. To think, all the joking led to this. An entire legion of angels, wiped out from a superior force. Once they feared the angels, understanding them to be death. Charlie and her hotel got to live because the big Lucifer helped her. Now…there was a power even beyond the heavens, one with no sign of holding back. Once prideful jailers, now fallen to some sci-fi crusaders. The slideshow ends with the location of their hideout being revealed, with the angels being kept in a barn with tight security like prisoners.
"Such…merchandising potential! What I could do with an angel." Of course, Valentino's thinking with his smaller brain. However, it can be argued that the big brain was at play in this case. It appeared Veal had to be the operation's backbone…again. "We're going to have to give them something they want." "Th-That much was ob-obvious, Vel. I asked for su-suggestions." Rubbing her chin at the prospect at hand, Velvette had several ideas, at varius levels of success. A minute passes, at which point, the Vs hear of Vel's makeshift plan. "How about an advertisment?"
All this planning. All this analysing the monsters to find a clue as to what their weaknesses could be. Lute knew the stakes. If they failed, they would destory a very good chunck of the resisting forces. But she knew not to hold back. She couldn't afford to with these abominations. Miriam, Lute's newly promoted second in command rushed towards her position, ready to report the team's situation. "All are in position, commander. You think this will work?" Lute pondered how to respond to this question, taking in the worst case senario to prepare. "It better work."
The patrol was a boring shift for Vitas to undertake. He had hoped the Ultramarines would encounter more abominations for them to cleanse. Now, they were in hiding, rather than burning away the xenos, dragging them from their beds and stomping on their malthinking skulls. It appeared his brothers shared his miscontent. Then, a small bleep was audible. Must have been the wind. Bleep. There are strange fauna in this land. Vitas wonders if any are edible. Bleep. Alright, it was worth investigating. Seeing no need to inform his brothers, he walked off to locate the noise. The xenos sent an army to fight the might of the Imperiam. What could the enemy possibly do? It was most likely a faulty machine regardless. Not exactly something for an angel of death to fear.
As the marine walks forward, his visor reveals nothing out of the ordinary. At least, what is ordinary in this dimension. As he continued his search, the noise got louder. He tracked it to a small recorder of sorts. Some sort of primitive technology. He sheethed his chainsword and picked it up, trying to find out how to silence the annoying bleeping. It was then, some great pain was felt in his throat. He tried to look down, but his neck couldn't look down far enough. Something was in the way, and he was certain it wasn't the armor this time. From the corner of his eyes, his panicked vision picked up the end of a metal bar extruding from his flesh. At the other corner of his eyes, he saw it. The sign of the alien charging at him silently. He tried to scream, only to speal more blood. The harpies had thought of everything.
The archer with the makeshift railroad spike smiled, as her degree in enhineering came in handy. The rest of the angels fulfilled their purposes. Two pairs of exorcists wrapped chains arround the beast's arms, ensuring he couldn't fight back. While Lute charged in, first wrestling the marine's helmet off. His size and disportionate form made the task difficult but not impossible. As the face was exposed, the crusader's mouth opened wide to bite at his attacker. She retreated backwards, the chains holding back her prey. With her bone shard on her left hand, she stabbed it just above the marne's neck. With her angelic spear shortened into a dagger, she stabbed into his right eye, reducing it into nothing more than speuling jelly. Seeing her blows strike in, she retracted and plunged the weapon back into his thick skull. Silently, she prayed for this to work, for the sake of her friends.
The resilience of this monster was incredible. Blows that would normally end a human were only doing so much against this barbarian. Eventually, the grip on the angels on their chains wither, and the marine grabs onto Lute; one on her arm and another on her waist. The eyes of the marine stared deep into Lute's eyes. The soul of this warrior was open to her, the predator ready to strike down the prey. Not this time. Ripping her hand from the beast's control, she plunged her right bone shard into his left eyes, hoping it was long enough to pierce his brain.
Then…at long last, the ambush was proven successful. As Lute's body healed, she grabbed the marine's head and carved it off. The other angels were horrified with their leader's brutality, exuasted from fighting for their lives, just to kill a single marine. Miriam pulls Lute back fro repeatly stabbing a corpse with the dagger, assured it would never return. After her barrage, Lute chcukles, which then turns into cackling. Miriam covers the warrior's mouth, assured they has drawn attention from the others. Seeing the urgency in the situations, lute orders everyone to fly off. As they moved through Hell, Mirriam couldn't shake the feeling she was not going to survive long in Hell, much less with her leader's decisions.
"Lute…are you okay?" A fair question. Lute once again debated how to best convey her answer. Chuckling to herself in relief, Lute smiled. "We…can kill them."