The ambush did not fare well and Graves' blood boiled at how the situation panned out. Hunter's insistence on convincing his friend to join their side was a catastrophe; yet, it wasn't even the worst of outcomes from the failed ambush. The Department of Purgatory had clashed against the ranks of Heaven once again, a factor he didn't consider when they lured the man in with those two imps. It was bad enough that some of their operations were blatantly interrupted by Azrael's people catching on and collecting evidence for their investigation. If mistakes like these continued to build up, it was only a matter of time before the chance to end Lucifer and his reign over Hell be a wishful dream for those who still wanted to destroy the dark realm.
His convoy of six vehicles had finally returned to their warehouse as the disguised servants of Heaven dismounted and made their way inside. No one was allowed to dilly-dally outside of the building for it would garner attention from the sinners and Hellborn alike. Once the last man had entered and closed the door on the way in, the survivors took off their bracelets as their Hell forms transitioned from various embodiments of sinful creatures into the sight of a professional military outfit.
Adam stood at the center of the warehouse, accompanied by Lute and a dozen exterminator angels at his back. There, the first man of humanity produced a stern expression but the former mercenary leader knew he would only provide disappointment to his superior. Then the blessed man remarked on the very reason they entertained that ambush in the first place. "Hunter is not with you. So, I presume he is dead."
"Yes, sir," Graves acknowledged as he began to summarize the events that transpired at the abandoned estate, "We lured the targets into our reach through the kidnapping of two imps - employees of I.M.P. - and ended up having Hunter's friend and some of his buddies dead to rights. What we didn't anticipate was the department's intervention."
He raised his eyebrows, expressing curiosity as he crossed his arms. "Were you able to identify any important individuals among them?"
The question was enough to spark his memories amid the chaotic firefights. "The same outfit that reclaimed the weapon shipment we stole from the Seraphim guard. There was also the Gendarmes and Tony, meaning he was personally involved in hunting us down."
"It is as I have feared. Azrael's department continues to hound us wherever we go. You are fortunate that you've lived and no one tracked you down."
"So what happens now?" Plans were meant to be discarded when the enemy's say in the matter destroyed any further possibilities of success. Graves would follow Adam to the ends of reality as long as his plans continued to bear results, even if some of his measures would be considered questionable in the eyes of the saved, redeemed, and the Heavenborn. There had to be a secondary chance in case these setbacks occurred.
The air inside the room began to shift and Adam's face was taken aback when a bright flash flickered from behind the mercenary commander. Graves turned around as his men stepped aside for the sight of an angelic being descending to the ground. Burning blue wings attached to a suit of silver armor lined with gold. It was tempting to raise his hand and give his eyes a chance but that would merely offend the man who was in charge of these operations in the first place. A commanding voice emanated from within his helm, revealing the holy intent that would soon come. "I have seen what has transpired for you and your men. A failure it was but I have been granted insight. My brother intends to continue with his investigation and has done enough to earn the ears of all those present at the Council of Archangels. Our time in the shadows is over, we must act in the name of the Holy Father and cleanse Hell once and for all by starting with Lucifer."
"Are we going on the offensive?" He wondered, curious as to what that entailed for their group was merely a splinter of the Holy Army. They wouldn't have the assets commanded by Michael lest the situation encouraged them to finally reveal their intentions. "You sure we're ready?"
"Absolutely. The more that Azrael continues to uncover our operations, the less we have available to kidnapping Charlie and lure the fallen one from his well-defended palace. Speed and surprise are our weapons and will play an instrumental role in catching everyone off-guard. Get some rest, I will be gathering our personnel and assets for what will come."
He raised his hand and saluted his superior. "Understood, Archangel Gabriel."
It had been a relief to rescue Moxxie and Millie from their kidnappers but Loona found herself caught up in what seemed to be Railtracer's affairs. When they were confronted at the mansion, she found that it was the first time that she had ever heard of the sinner's true name ever since he joined I.M.P. Her gut churned and turned with a queasy uneasiness as she, the imps, and the other sinners from the Hazbin Hotel were brought into an undisclosed building in Pentagram City. The people who had come to their rescue carried a unique scent that she only associated with blessed weaponry. At this very building, the denizens of Hell were cordoned off in what seemed to be a lunch room as her two coworkers dozed off in their comatose state beside her, holding themselves up by leaning against each other. It was likely that they were drugged before being brought along by their captors.
Sitting across the table from the Hellhound were the two sinners known as Angel Dust and Vaggie. Their names were quite famous thanks to their relationship with the princess of Hell - the former being a test subject for redemption and the latter a girlfriend. They seemed far more alarmed than they were inside the car, stealing glances and hostile looks at the human beings passing by and raiding the kitchen for food. "Are you two alright? You don't seem to be okay with these humans."
The moth girl turned her full attention upon her while expressing her unsure looks at her saviors. "A lot just happened. Not too long ago, we were visited by some strangers claiming to be the Department of Purgatory. Then we just found out your sinner coworker works for them."
"Who exactly are these guys?" This was news to her. From the sound of their name, they were an organization but for what purpose?
"They work for Heaven," Angel Dust answered as he paused to look around the room. Then he looked back at her and continued, "When they arrived at the hotel, they knew everyone's names there. My guess is, they're the ones who sent us here in the first place."
Someone approached their table as the clinking of metal and the smell of a baked pastry reached her nose. Loona looked to her right to find a human wearing a brown and dirty trench coat. Stains of blood were etched into his blue jeans and a black layer of armor was strapped over his chest. The only sign of his humanity was his blue eyes and hazel hair as he carried a metal folding chair in one hand and a plate full of spinach puffs in the other. "You are correct indeed."
"Tony?"
The very fact that the homosexual pornstar knew of him probably meant that he was the one who visited Charlie's place. "I didn't think we would meet again but here we are."
"Are you going to tell us what happened back there?" Vaggie asked, her tone seemingly annoyed at the presence of this man as he unfolded his chair and sat down at his end of the table. He placed the plate containing the pile of spinach puffs and slid it over to the Hellborn and sinners.
"Ma'am, you are asking me a lot to break some rules established by my department. That being said, all of you at least deserve an explanation," Tony's exhausted eyes seemed to scan at those present at the table before he exhaled, "All of you got caught up in the department's affairs involving an intensive investigation that no one in Hell is aware of… until now."
It was indeed a revelation of information but everything about his sentence felt as if he still was willing to hide the details away from him. She could press him to spill more but somehow being in a room containing humans armed with blessed weaponry made her cautious. What she could ask about was the man who called himself Railtracer and the men who tried to kill them. Now that she thought about it, where was he? "They called someone we know an investigator. Does that ring a bell to you?"
"You're talking about Railtracer, aren't you?" The Hellhound acknowledged his question with a nod of the head.
"A guy named Hunter knew him as Artyom," Angel seemed to have remembered that detail when they were confronted, "Care to explain that?"
Tony looked down at the table and closed his eyes for a brief moment until his head was erected and ready to address them. "An investigator is someone in the Department of Purgatory who goes into Hell to investigate any involving souls within our bureaucracy to undo the mistake of a soul accidentally sent there. Artyom, the man you know as Railtracer, is one of our people operating as one."
"That doesn't make any sense. I thought that he was one of Lucifer's agents." Vaggie expressed her confusion as she leaned forward her head able to take a long look at the man.
"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe he was bullshitting you to hide his identity?"
Loona stole a glance from the sinner, finding her bemused. "You encourage lying?"
"We're saved souls, not saints," He said with a hearty laugh but then his emotions darkened from his self-made comedy, "Ever since Lucifer signed the ceasefire agreement with the Council of Archangels, the department has had a policy of maintaining absolute secrecy unless we want to risk the ruler of Hell to reignite the War in Heaven Two - Electric Boogaloo. It wasn't until the two demon hunters and a cherub were accidentally brought into your hotel that we ended up breaking our own rule."
"Well, if Rail-" Vaggie cut herself off before correcting herself, "So, where is Artyom?"
The saved soul leaned over to the point of hunching his back. "Cleaning himself up. One of the guys here told me that he killed someone he genuinely cared about. I don't know what's going through his mind but I would be the same if I was in his shoes."
"Sounds like you care about him. Must have been impressive for him to leave an impression on you. Even when we didn't know who he was, Artyom must have been genuinely a nice guy in life." She conveyed to the man in charge while Loona could resonate with her. After all, the disguised man did go out of his way to help rescue Blitzo when he was kidnapped.
"Can't say you're wrong. He was willing to sacrifice his spot in Heaven to save a sinner from eternal damnation. The only reason he's even working for us is for a matter far too personal to explain."
Did she hear that right? This man was willing to forgo Heaven's salvation in exchange for another's soul? The concept was too far-fetched; yet, the Russian's actions against D.H.O.R.K.S. finally made sense. All that mattered was the reason he was disguised as an employee in her dad's business. "So why did you have him work for us then?"
"Your question is asking me to divulge classified information," Tony replied, a sign that he could not answer everything and explain the details to her. Much to her surprise, he continued, "What I can say is that our investigation required the department to run through a list of suspects and I.M.P were at the top of our shitlist so-to-speak. After all, your business involved a group of Hellborn hitmen going into the mortal plane and assassinating humans whose souls will have their names land on our desks. Every single kill reminds us that there's a group of imps who are trying to get around some rules."
"Oh." That was the word she could rummage summon in response to the saved as she understood what that implied. Despite Blitzo's efforts to keep their presence minimized, Heaven was already aware of what they were doing to make a living.
"We frown on that tomfuckery but fortunate for Blitzo, dealing with you four isn't under our department."
Angel Dust managed to sneak in a laugh as he enjoyed the Hellhound's embarrassment at that moment. Yet, he had questions of his own that seemed to reveal much about Heaven's views of the dark realm. "It's weird that you're hands-off and sound less like an asshole compared to the exterminators."
"That's because they don't spend as much time in Hell compared to our organization." He explained before reaching for one of the spinach puffs.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Questioned the pink spider as he crossed his arms, "Are you trying to say that you don't look eye-to-eye with those freaks?"
"Pretty much. Those zealots tend to act high and might that they're killing sinners in Pride before leaving. Us? We infiltrate ourselves into your society and get connected with the people who fell there. Some of us end up making friends, other times, our investigators get a bit more intimate. Officially, it's discouraged but Azrael doesn't enforce that policy as often despite it existing since the beginning."
When he took a bite from his pastry, it gave Loona a moment to think about the disguised agent she once called a coworker. Artyom had managed to more or less befriend everyone present but then Verosika Mayday arrived and made a scene with her dad. Were those feelings he had truly genuine?
"Any more questions?"
"I do," The moth girl answered, her eyes lit up as if she had taken serious thought into it, "Why exactly did Artyom get placed in the Hazbin Hotel? Did you see our advertisement and want to help Charlie's hotel?"
Tony shook his head as he finished clearing his mouth. "It wasn't really that. When we were setting up Artyom's background as a sinner trying to look for a job at I.M.P, the outfit trying to make things work had ended up getting expensive apartments and brand-new sports cars. Of course, I never approved since it would make Blitzo look bad that his newest employee was earning more than he could ever make. So we just settled at the Hazbin ever since."
"So that means you weren't really interested in redeeming sinners then. Are we just some kind of joke to your people then?"
"It's a little more complicated than that. The Archangel of Death might tear me a new one but that princess deserves to hear it if we ever send you back," That piqued the Hellhound's interest as all eyes fell on him with his chest armor covered in crumbs, "There is such a thing as redemption and sinners can be redeemed from Hell but it's a very extensive process."
The sinners across from her had their eyes lit up. Loona recalled that advertisement on the television but the idea of sinners going to Heaven was a naive far-fetched idea. It was fiction in Hell until he admitted to their ears and who could blame them for their reaction as they now had a hint of hope for their soul? "You're telling them upfront?"
"There's no harm in granting a little bit of hope. Besides, if Charlie ever wants to be in the business of helping sinners out of Hell, there are little details she needs to know." He admitted before stealing a glance at her with a smile.
Then the sound of Angel's stomach growling with eager hunger. Tony began to crack into laughter as he rose from his chair and slipped his hands into the pockets of his coat. She continued to observe his mannerisms, noting how relaxed his shoulders were. Somehow, he could be trusted even though he got to know the group in so little time.
"Okay, you guys should eat. I got to deal with some department stuff but if anyone here needs anything or has questions, ask the people around here for me. I'll do what I can to address what's needed."
The moth sinner stood up and stared at him. "Before you go, what if we want to leave and go back to our lives?"
"You can leave our safe house under one condition, maintain your silence about the existence of our organization as much as possible. That's all I ask from all of you since I'm willing to break our protocols," He answered before looking over to the Hellhound and the imps sleeping beside her, "Especially you three as I've had to put a little extra effort cleaning up after I.M.P."
It was weird to be called out but she knew there had to be repercussions for her dad's somewhat not-so-legal business. The fact that he was asking for them to shut up about what she just experienced seemed merciful to a hidden group that had been watching them from the shadows.
The Macho Machine continued to thrive off the back of a popstar's work but not on this day. V1 stood behind the glass door and turned the hanging sign to inform would-be customers about its temporary closure. This was the one day that the machine would get to itself, using the time to manage the affairs of the business and determine its daughter's choices. As it turned around, it's visual sensors saw Verosika sitting in the corner booth to the left side and on the far side of the room. With earbuds in, her head moved gracefully to match the rhythmic beats while her eyes focused on the table and read various piles of papers.
It approached her, the machine's 'feet' tapping against the tile floor before it slipped into the booth and sat across from it's daughter. The succubus singer noticed it's arrival and raised her head while removing the devices from her ears. "Dad, are you not working?"
"I decided to take the day off," There were additional factors at play. Ever since she introduced the ancient war machine to her boyfriend, V1 was able to record a significant positive change in it's daughter's emotional outlook. Now that the concert was over, what option would she decide upon? "How was the time spent with this Railtracer?"
Verosika leaned back against the leather and folded her arms across her chest. "Are you judging my choice of lovers?"
"No! I didn't mean to imply that," Rather the machine desired to understand whether she was genuinely happy, "Are you happy with him?"
"Aside from the decent sex with him, he's a lot more considerate about me than Blitzo. Like, I don't meet a lot of guys who'll say they're sorry after they shot you. I mean, he was willing to talk to me about my Beelzebub addiction."
If V1 could form a facial expression, it would be smiling. It's daughter had been drinking much since the break-up which allowed her to embrace a rather toxic attitude; however, the disguised redeemed seemed to have a profound effect on her. "That's good to hear. After the concert, I did talk with him and he seemed like a caring person."
"You can say that again," She said before adding a chuckle, "Odd that a guy like him would be in Hell of all places. It almost makes me wonder if he deserves to be here. What do you think, dad?"
The machine knew the truth but it also knew the price of revealing that information. There will come a time but it vowed to maintain that secrecy lest the agents of the Department of Purgatory attempt to seek out their leak. It thought about the man and developed a phrase to ensure it would not offend the succubus, all of which are based on previous experiences. "In all my time in Hell, I've come across some sinners who have gentle hearts for others; yet, are damned forever for their inability or unwillingness to save themselves. They are a rare sort who are capable of good but weighed down by their misdeeds."
"That's an interesting food for thought. Why haven't you told me this to anyone?
"I'm a machine with a reputation," V1 reminded her of what it was and how Hell viewed it's existence, "Almost everyone in the Dark Realm would see me and run for their lives, not seek out a philosophical discussion with an ancient war machine."
Her phone beeped as she reached inside her pocket and pulled it out. Soon, she began to start texting away without consideration for her adoptive dad's unfinished conversation but perhaps it was never meant to continue. It didn't mind that rude behavior for she was busy with more tangible problems in her life. There was no need to press her for that.
Sensors within the machine began to activate underneath the blue metal frame as it detected multiple signatures. Internal diagnostics began to inspect within to determine the cause of this strange behavior. What was occurring to earn this development? When the diagnostics finished studying it's systems, no errors were found save for a sudden rise of electronic networks based on the frequencies only found in the Holy Army.
There's coincidence and then there was a sign that a major event was taking place. What that consisted of, required introspection and perhaps a reach out to the organization the machine had paid no mind about until now. A multitude of theoretical events played out within it's cognitive functions, mostly about Heaven breaking the status quo it silently established in Hell. There were possibilities of Hell acting in response; however, the likelihood of Lucifer antagonizing his former brethren and the Holy Father couldn't be considered due to the yearly exterminations hampering the armies of the dark realm from an advantageous position to launch an invasion.
If the conflict was to be had, V1 needed to seek out the armory and prepare it's weaponry for the times to come. More importantly, Verosika needed to be out of the line of fire as much as possible. She was too important to the machine as an adoptive father and her friends could use that protection as well.
"I'm sorry about that. Just got a text from Kiki that Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench are going to see me at 666 News," She explained before placing the phone on the table and looking at him, "Are you okay? I've never seen you like this."
The machine deactivated its diagnostic software and turned to it's daughter. "Something came up and I wanted to see why. Fortunately, everything's fine as I've managed to work it over."
"Well, I want your thoughts on whether or not I should go and meet the sinner casters."
"Bring a friend with you," After the latest developments, it was safer this way. On the other hand, it was a performance that allowed it to act like a caring father. Plus, it had seen how they acted when Princess Charlie was on their set, "They're conniving bastards to their guests at times."
She chuckled in response to it's statements. "Those conniving bastards didn't have to worry about you."
Artyom stood inside the bathroom as his hands were pressed against the porcelain sink. His body was fresh from a warm shower but it was not enough to wash away the memory of killing Hunter. Back in his regular form, the former Polis Ranger stared at himself in the mirror while contemplating the dark deed he committed against a man he once revered as his hero. The pain remained and guilt rested upon his shoulders. He wanted to cry and take the time to release it all in a single sitting but he could not.
What was clear was that Hunter's death remained at the hands of those who killed Colonel Mel'nikov. Whoever had brought his friend into their fold would pay a harsh price for shaping those events. There was much to be done and he would not rest until their deaths were avenged. He wanted to proclaim that he would go so far as to embrace eternal death; however, the Russian took the time to pause in that one moment. His mind thought back on the two women who opened their hearts ever since he left Anna's side - Verosika and Mayberry. They do not know about his identity nor the personal vendetta he was waging but he had not the courage to be inconsiderate of their feelings.
If only he could tell them the truth.
He saw the dog tags with the symbol of the Spartan Rangers dangling from his neck and felt the urge to tear it off and throw it away. Yet, he could not stomach the idea of throwing away one of the few pieces of his old life that had accompanied him into death. After all, it was the very motif that defined the start of his adventurous life to his final last minutes. Artyom knew he would not be the man that he is now without Hunter's great influence on his life.
None of the department's most classified operations wouldn't matter to him if it wasn't for that damned attack. The memory of the angelic figure killing innocents and witnesses alike erupted into his head like a flaring wound. His blood boiled at his inability to save them from their doom while the grip on the sink tightened. Yet, this feeling of holy wrath seemed to have taken over as his rage made him blink his eyes for a brief second and see himself in a mirror, only to catch a glimpse of a warrior in a suit of armor and his two-handed sword hanging from his back. He blinked once more, only to feel normal again as the great tension in his body sizzled away like a small piece of iron cooling off in a pile of snow.
The investigator wanted to believe that his eyes were playing tricks on him but he knew better than to doubt his senses.
Now that he was finished with his business in the bathroom, Artyom unlocked the door and was about to step into the hallway. Then he found Vaggie standing at the doorway, her eyes began to enlarge thanks to his presence upon seeing him. They had not spoken a word to each other since the search on the estate and he did not know how to address the matter properly without jeopardizing his relationship with the sinners and Hellborn he befriended.
She too seemed unable to summon the courage to bring the words until her mouth finally uttered a sound. "Artyom? Is that your name?"
He gestured his head to acknowledge this truth.
"So, you weren't really a sinner, were you? Just an agent for this Department of Purgatory?"
Artyom nodded, knowing that there was no reason to maintain the masquerade he had forged when he was disguised as a sinner. "I apologize for the deception. I know to some degree that you and Charlie expected me to be honest to her and everyone at the Hazbin Hotel but-"
"No need," The moth raised her hand for him to stop as she cut him off, "Charlotte would understand if she was here but it's definitely different to see you now. What I want to know is whether or not you were genuine with helping us when it mattered."
"I'm not understanding." He said, perplexed by her meaning. Some clarification would help jog his mind.
"When Angel Dust was kidnapped, did you really care about rescuing him or was it fake?"
She had dropped a nuclear bomb on him but the Russian took a minute to think about it for a brief moment. That time when he, Uhlman, and Pavel were ready to fight and die on behalf of the homosexual gangster. It was tempting to smile at that memory but it would not be appropriate based on her question. For this matter, there was nothing complicated about his justifications and motivations. "I was doing everything in my power to save his life."
"Why though? What reason do you have to save sinners like us?" Vaggie asked as the philosophical discussion jogged back to his memory. The weight of his deeds damned him until he was able to overturn his fate by saving a young angel to absolve his soul. Then the wisdom of that strange Mongolian man in his past affected him.
"There was once a time when I was destined to damnation for what I did in life. The line between a saved and a sinful soul is no different than the door separating this room from the hallway. "
He saw her smile as she looked down on the floor. "Quite the analogy there. Charlie would have loved those words. So what will become of you now that we know your identity."
"I don't know what Tony has told you," The aura of the atmosphere faded from a thoughtful conversation as he knew what the future had in store for him, "but I have some personal business that I will see to its end, one that involves blood."
"You're on a path to vengeance." It looked like she could see through to his intentions. Quite an admirable trait and one that the princess of Hell would enjoy having if he spoke of it. Presuming he never got the chance to talk to her again. All that was left was to convey his real feelings.
"You have no idea."
"Do you care to talk about it?"
The only ones who knew about his reasons were Azrael and Tony. Her offer to hear out his problems was tempting but the relevant information was too close to the investigation he was set on carrying out. He shook his head, denying her that opportunity. "I'm afraid it's not something I can tell you in the first place. Security as you know."
"I hope they won't punish you for revealing your identity." She seemed genuine with her words and he could appreciate the sentiment.
"Thank you."
Artyom left the bathroom and strode towards his bunk within the safe house. The fallout of such consequences would resurface and his soul would be judged for helping sinners and demons.
It had been another exhausting day at work as Maria climbed up the steps to her apartment. Her hands had been weighed by the bags of groceries, which she had bought on the way back. Most of it had been frozen meals ready to be cooked through a microwave with the rest being raw vegetables and meats at a discount. She couldn't afford to be luxurious, especially in this economy, but this was better than having no food around. With her and her boyfriend pitching in when they could, the cost of living could be mitigated. Though, she never really figured out what he did for a living, only that it raked in the money when it mattered.
Once the Mexican had arrived at the door, she unlocked it and quickly entered with the hope of tossing all the bags on the kitchen floor. She looked to her left to find that the sink hadn't been clean, along with the dirty dishes waiting for their week-old smells to be washed out. It was usually Hunter's job to make sure they were clean before she came home to start cooking. Perhaps he was working overtime to give her a nice bonus?
The open door creaked as she heard it close shut from behind her back. A chill ran down her spine as she recognized that someone had closed her apartment but it was not her. It couldn't have been Hunter for he loved her too much to play tricks such as this. So it all came down to the unfortunate reality that her home contained an intruder and that stranger was waiting for her. Maria thought this was a thief for money but even they knew better than to stay behind and cause a ruckus. Her body trembled as the Calavera turned around and turned to face the newcomer. Unsure of what to expect from the intruder.
Beside the door from where she came from was a man wearing a black uniform with a kevlar vest across his torso. His face was nothing more than a grey ski mask with a pair of goggles keeping his gaze from showing. On top of his head was a ballistic helmet, revealing his military background while a blessed assault rifle was slung around his neck and his hands resting atop the weapon. His body composure seemed relaxed in the wooden chair that had been certainly removed from elsewhere. "So, this is where you and your boyfriend live."
"W-Who are you?" The woman was struggling to speak as she was at her most vulnerable.
"A former associate of Hunter," He began as he sat upright and straightened his back all while brandishing a pistol from his holster and a suppressor from his pockets. Then he began to screw the two pieces together and continued, "He never spoke about his job but he did speak about you. As it turns out, his job involved working with an established member of Heaven and doing his job to obtain the status of a redeemed sinner. Now, your significant other did indeed achieve that and was trying to earn a spot in the good place for you as well."
It all sounded surreal. Heaven never cared about sinners, except for Extermination Day… unless that was the crowd her love had surrounded himself with. Part of her wanted to feel some relief at hearing this news; however, the nameless man seemed to express a darker intention. "I sense there is something wrong here."
"You have no idea. What he was willing to do was to do everything he was asked to do on behalf of your soul. The problem is, he failed."
"Where is he then?" The mention of failure was an ominous sign that it could have been connected with him not returning home. Hopefully, she was not asking too much about him, "Did he send for you?"
He chuckled but it brought Maria no comfort with the tone. "He's dead. None of this wouldn't have happened if he just did his job but he hesitated on a high-value target and got himself killed because it involved a friend. This means, my people have to do a bit of cleanup… starting with you. Hunter bet your life that he would succeed in his duties and now you have to pay the price."
The news broke her and the woman collapsed to her knees. Finding a lover in Hell, one who truly resonated with another's soul was a difficult treasure to obtain she had him wrested away from her heart. Grief consumed the woman as tears were released on the account that he was one of the people who gave her a reason to keep living in this damned existence. Now that he was truly gone, there was no point in continuing, and begging to be spared was out of the question. Hunter was dead and Maria was left to suffer the consequences.
"I'm sad to say that he seemed like a decent guy," The soldier rose from the chair and walked towards her as he fastened the suppressor into place. Then a small click erupted as he towered over her and fully extended his arm out, aiming his pistol at her forehead, "This is the least I could do for you."
She closed her eyes and accepted the fate that was coming to her. Perhaps there was a solace to be had in eternal death, the pain of Hunter no longer aching.
A minute passed her senses felt an immediate change in the atmosphere where the temperature dropped and apartment lighting seemed to dim. The wind howled inside the building but she did not expect a reaction from what might have seemed to be her executioner. "What the fuck?!"
Morbid curiosity caused Maria to open her eyes as a blur of black and silver rushed from her left. The man's arm had been cut as he began to take two steps back and acknowledge the injury of losing a piece of himself and bleeding profusely before her. Blood splattered on her as his other hand immediately reached for the missing limb while he screamed in disbelief. His eyes focused entirely on the ever-increasing pool of blood that stained her home.
The creaking of floorboards and heavy footsteps revealed another had entered her home unannounced she froze in place, both confused and terrified at this rapidly changing situation. Then a dark hooded figure approached them as the individual was clad in tattered black robes. This imposing apparition was far taller than the soldier as it stepped behind him and reached around his neck, revealing a bony hand cupping the chin and raising it to reveal his neck. Another came from his cloak with a steel hand scythe before a single stroke across the jugular unleashed a dam of crimson.
Soon the previous intruder was gently tossed aside as she looked up at the horror that slayed her would-be killer. The kitchen ceiling flickered back to life, revealing a skull hiding underneath the robed figure. She had been petrified and did not know what to do from here on. Yet, her ears heard a calming voice emanate from the individual as the skeletal being retracted the arms and brought the weapon back underneath the black robes. "Be not afraid."
Those were the last words she heard as shock took over and caused her to faint.
The weapons shipment that was supposed to be sent to the Seraphim Guard had found itself within the inventory of the Department of Purgatory. Yet, despite its prioritization, Azrael had ordered it to be under lock and key with Doctor McClintock tasked with cleaning this arsenal of holy weaponry before it changed hands to the original recipients. Yet, the saved soul didn't know what he was supposed to look for since his job was to study pieces of evidence for investigations, not performing a security sweep. Nonetheless, he carried out his orders as he arrived at the open garages containing cargo trucks.
Only one soul was present and on duty. A man wearing a green Napoleonic uniform of Britain's 95th Rifles, his headgear fitted accordingly over his crown and a muzzle-loaded rifle resting in his arms. The sides of his hair revealed a hint of red as the rest remained hidden. One man may not be enough to defend this priority objective but the guard was no mere grunt but a jumped-up officer and gentleman. "Lieutenant Colonel Sharpe, it's a pleasant surprise to find you here on sentry duty. What's a man like you doing without company?"
He turned to face him. "Can't a silly bugger have some time to himself? Besides, I doubt we'll see any trouble down here."
If there was one rule McClintock adhered to, it was that he never wrote off a possibility. It helped him in his line of work but also helped him seek out the origin of a problem in his line of work. The analyst walked over to the container door and began to open the mechanism, "After recent events, I wouldn't try to jinx yourself."
"Ha, you're more suspicious than me, you old coot," The rifleman replied as he gestured a dismissive hand in his direction, "Go do your thing before I lock you in here."
Sharpe was relaxed, perhaps too relaxed but the saved paid him no attention as he immediately busied himself. Entering the container, the doctor brandished a hand-held flashlight and scoured through each set of weapon racks. Melee weapons or modern firearms, he studied every detail with the precision that only an academic could respect. A few were missing within this inventory but he had been told that some were currently taken by some of the few investigators who found it. The Seraphim Guard would find that discrepancy as an annoyance; however, the old man surmised that Death would convey the finer details about the investigation. After all, the devil is always in the details.
The first half of the container was thoroughly checked out several times until he could not discover anything unusual. With the limited space and the potential to get cut, the rest was much harder to make out as he was now inspecting much more experimental guns or ornamental designs fit for close-quarters combats. Only a historian specialized in various martial arts would be able to make sense of them. However, he had to quietly admit to himself that these were weapons only a king would dream of and perhaps fit for someone to slay one.
The saved could not help himself from pondering on the history of Lucifer and Heaven itself. It was rather ironic and tragic that he was once the head of the Seraphim before his descent into the Dark Realm. That these very guardians of the Garden of Eden were once his soldiers, who were ashamed that their leader betrayed everyone's loyalty to the hand of Lilith. It was not his place to express his opinion on such a history but one could not help ponder if events would have played out differently to avoid the animosity that lay between Heaven and Hell. Perhaps, it would have prevented the issues that the Department of Purgatory was tasked with solving if open war was not an option.
Soon the last weapon had been looked upon and nothing spectacular of note to report to Archangel Azrael. Many would find it disappointing but the old doctor found relief that if he had found any detail out of place, it would only instill questions of an ever-growing problem since the attack on the convoy. He turned around and began to slip out from the rows and slowly make his way towards the exit. As he reached the end, McClintock was about to seal it shut until his ears heard a low beep on the far side.
Did he miss something? "Sharpe, did you hear that?"
"I was minding my own business but yes I did." Answered the Napoleonic officer as he crept to his side and they both peeked their heads in.
There was another beep that echoed much louder than before.
"What in the bloody blazes is that?"
"There's something off about this," The saved analyst remarked. He had overlooked something and now a device was being activated. Yet, why had it turned on when he and many others ran it over? McClintock stole a glance from the bodyguard, "We need to report this to Azrael, now."
His words seemed to affect the lone guard, expressing concern about the developing situation. "What should I tell him?"
He was about to make his reply but his eyes saw a glimpse of flashing lights and dozens of figures dressed in uniforms of blue and white. They arrived on the delivery platform, equipped with kevlar and automatic weaponry but the nature of the priority investigation meant that this was no mere visit. A shipment truck entered the garage, obtaining the attention of the arrivals, who immediately turned to see the incoming driver. Gunfire erupted from their weapons as Sharpe turned to see the bullets tear into the driver's side of the vehicle. Blood splattered against the glass as the truck deviated from its path and crashed into another parked one.
"Shite!" Swore the lieutenant colonel as he cocked his rifle and aimed his weapon. The nearest one seemed to have heard him before the pull of a trigger ignited an outdated weapon against a platoon of Holy Army soldiers. One was struck down as he lay dead on the concrete before the officer grabbed McClintock by the collar and they both rushed for the exit. Assault rifles and submachine guns echoed behind their backs as the analyst found himself petrified at the moment. Yet, they kept running, fleeing from the scene. "An open attack on the department? Bastards they are."
They encountered a red switch locked behind a metal box in the hallway to their right. Here, they both stopped as the doctor breathed heavily inside his NBC suit, watching his eye sockets fogging up. Meanwhile, he saw the Napoleonic officer smashed into the box with the butt of his rifle and lowered the switch.
Alarms blared but this would signal the rest of the building of what had transpired. The Department of Purgatory was under attack.
Author's Note: Happy New Year! I originally intended to post this on Christmas or the actual first day of the year but it was the holidays and I wanted to spend time with my family. That being said, I'm glad that this story is reaching a point where a lot of things are coming out like the recent Layer 7 of Ultrakill and the upcoming Hazbin Hotel show that is finally nearing release. From this point on, the next chapter is where everything goes to Hell.
SilverExcel115: It just got worse.