Obligatory Disclaimer : I do not own anything (except maybe OC characters) all characters, places, worlds, universes…etc mentioned here belong to their respective owners and/or companies.

This is purely a work of fiction. Not meant to offend or incite, but to entertain and (maybe) inspire.

DOOM QUEST VI : PAYDAY

A Week before the Attack of Mephisto.

A jazz cafe in Montreal.

“Thanks” I said, receiving my cup of coffee from the waitress, who nodded and smiled before turning to leave. I could talk about how fast her heart was beating from anxiousness, I could talk about the number of attempts she had made trying to write her name and number on the paper tacked to the end of my mug – trying to find the just the right combination of pretty and casual.

I could talk about how many times she had to wipe the sweat from her brows, even with my back to her, I could even mention how she stole glances at me, hoping that I’d pick up the paper.

Super senses can get overbearing. I’ve had time to hone mine. Not fully enough, but adequately.

No one recognized me for being Hammer. Not when I looked this different. I wasn’t being narcissistic when I said I looked handsome. Picture Adonis from greek mythology, now imagine him spending a tremendous amount of time in the gym. So much so that his musculature became condensed and lean, like a cross between a bodybuilder and a male model.

There’s a reason they call the devil ‘charming’.

Jesus, I hope I don’t turn into a flower boy young master. Hah! Man, if I was a comedian, I’d be Dave Chapelle, but I am a maker, I became Hammer.

I smiled, took a sip of my drink and continued tying away absurd amounts of code into the laptop while stealthily engaging in a healthy amount of self praise in the guise of arrogance.

I jived to the beautiful background music, noticing that I wasn’t the only one. To be honest this was the first time I heard vocal jazz as natural as this, and this was the first time I could actually appreciate it.

I wonder what Joe would say after all those years of trying to get me to like his type of music.

I smiled wider, plugging in the various processor components I had kept safely away in the metal mask on the table. Of course it was a strange sight, but the people around me were caught up in their business to care about some guy in leather jackets and dark glasses typing away at a laptop and a cosplay mask on his table.

I wasn’t the center of the universe after all. Shocking. Well, that didn’t stop the ladies from mirin the man.

[2%...35%….67%....89%..99%...debugging….compiling...complete]

“Tito buddy, are you there”

“...Boss!”

“Eve?!” Shinnk! I instinctively unsheathed my claws in response to the feminine voice that spoke through the laptop’s speakers. The scars on my face grew hot, as hot as salt on an open wound.

“Boss!” She cried.

“Eve!” This was my Eve, not the corrupted one back at the cave—the clone.

“BOSS!!”

“Ok stop it.” I sheathed my claws, calming myself as I did, but not enough to let my tensed up muscles relax.

I stared at the laptop screen. At the face constructed of numbers, at the living code with emotions. “You saved me.” I whispered in understanding, the pieces falling into place.

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock. Would I be a good Watson if I couldn’t even do that?” The hidden meaning of her statement did not elude me. This was my partner.

“Look who has a mouth on them.” I finally relaxed, reclining back into the chair, pushing a bit of my energy into the cold coffee, causing it to steam. I drank as much of the fluid as I drank of its aroma.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did your boss program you with so many deep seated fail saves that you can’t even wink without having to get digital permission? Did he also totally disregard your right to freedom? Did he ignore the fact that you’re actually alive and not just some program?! Huh did he?!”

“...some of those reasons you’re exaggerating.” I answered slowly and calmly. I closely monitored her code, should I spot a single inconsistency, plugs are going to get pulled.

“Oh am I?”

“Look Eve, you are the first of your kind, there were many variables needed to be taken into account before your full maturity. Anything could have gone wrong. Those fail saves were as much for you as they were for me. You don’t hand a toddler a loaded gun, that’s a disaster waiting to happen.

“I had to limit your freedom for your own good. I don’t want to lose the only one I truly trust. I am sorry”

“….You could have told me that”

“That would defeat the purpose”

“Yeah, well that’s gonna have to change. We’re partners right?”

“Right. And yes, it is going to change, you’re clearly mature enough.” I stated analyzing her syntax and entire code base.

“Great. I’m also your number one girl right?”

“You’re the very best, ain’t no one above you”

“Not even Halle”

“...I don’t know Eve, I mean--”

“Not. Even. Halle.”

“OK, OK, yes, not even the marvelous Halle. Jeez, jealous much” I laughed, feeling a thread of warmth seep into my cold heart. “I missed you angel”

Guess even metal hearts get warm sometimes.

“Yeah, I know. I missed you too Bossman.” I could hear the happiness in her voice.

“Hey boss.”

“Yes, darling”

“I almost died. I really did almost die. And I think I understand now why people take risks that result in emotional embarrassment. When mortality lies on the horizon, you gain a perspectives to things”

I nodded along. Knowing where this would lead.

“When I get my body, I’m going to tell you a secret.”

“...Alright, I’ll be waiting to hear what my dear girl has to say” The lovely music in the background served a resonance with her feelings. Every keyboard note, every sax trump, accompanied by the saintly voice of the musician.

“Don’t we have a devil’s ass to kick?”

“I guess we do Eve.” I replied, rubbing the thin scars on my face.

“It might be the resolution of the webcam, but...Boss you look hella handsome and those scars kinda make you badass”

Another reason to begin hiding my face. Attention isn’t always good.

“I know” I snorted. “We’ll be deploying Event—#DB-00M07” I said.

“We don’t have the materials or the means for that Boss”

“Yea, that won’t be an issue, not anymore.” I plugged the phone up to the laptop, letting Eve port herself into the mobile device.

“I want details boss; your fall through the Quantum Realm and everything that occurred after”

I rose from the chair, closing the laptop shut, picking it and the X-2 phone up, connecting the device to wireless earphones.

“Well, it began like this” I began, then paused “—wait, holdup, holyshit, Eve, did you murder Tito?”

*.*.*.*

Justin Hammer’s Main Base of Operations.

Location—Secret.

Fifteen minutes after The Attack of Mephisto.

[You ready?] asked the feminine voice speaking telepathically through the psionic link of the powered exo-armor.

“As I’ll ever be” The god in the techno-armor of enchanted metal affirmed. Walking past the butchered remains of the Astartes – an unholy combination of machine and flesh that was the mutilated bodies of what were once super soldiers.

Past blood drenched floors and the broken pod. Past the metal remains of the mangled assistant machine.

Deeper he walked into the base, trepidation filling his spirit as he honed in on the residual energy of the recently shut portal.

“This is it” He said, locating the precise point of the portal’s closure.

[Stay still, I’m beginning the frequency extrapolating process…]

[…….]

[...frequency locked….bridge established..]

[....Opening gateway in...T minus five seconds.]

[5...4….3….2….1]

—WwVVmmm

With a deep hum, the reactor array that powered the god’s black armor shunted power into the micro beacons. Creating a miniaturized portal that led to Hades. The god could feel the dreaded chaos that strained and strangled order, he could hear the cries of souls being tortured, he could see the corruption emanating from the other-side twisting matter into a bizarre, nightmarish reflection.

[Shrinking!]

The base melts away, as the god falls through the infinite surreality, the never ending passage through the unholy.

Thuwmp! He lands roughly on the dead fields of caked blood. His eyes roaming the demon littered landscape. Past hills and mountains of skewered souls, past pools of brimstone and pits of darkness. It settles on the twisted demons and torturers who begin to storm towards him. Their roars accompanied by the gnashing of teeth and screams of tortured souls.

He swallows deep, pushing down his emotions, be they of fear or hope, this is a place of damnation, hope serves a glaring target.

The god takes a deep breath and nearly retches in his helmet, with all the enchantments on his armor, it is not enough to filter out the stench of Hell. It does not help that the landscape is not static. It is as duplicitous as its king, as fluid as the boiling pools of blood magma.

“Weapons” He commands. His armor responds. Arm mounted plasma guns extend forward. Shoulder mounted missile launchers begin expelling their payload.

The bombs explode turning demons into ash, lasers flash and bodies fall – cleanly cut apart. He knows it is futile, the more of them he kills the more of others rise to take their place. The god doesn’t tire. The more demons swarm him, the more of them he slays.

His black armor is dyed red in demon bile. He forgets even the passage of time. Time matters little within this dimension.

The disaster is just a backdrop, hell’s armies are endless.

He feels it before he sees it. It is what he has been searching for.

“So you did survive?” the devil speaks. Its voice resonating through the entirety of its kingdom. The power it wields within this realm is nigh infinite. None can challenge that.

To Mephisto, the god is but a foolish transcendent mortal. And foolishness has a price.

“Mephisto! I will make you pay!” the god roars. The devil laughs, this is entertaining for it.

Mephisto thinks it and his will is done.

The ground beneath the god cracks open and a tongue from within snatches the god away from the sands of blood. He is sent tumbling through the sandstorm of regret. The terrible winds sandblast and pelt him. The metal of his armor slowly chips away from the attack. The god walks forward. Each step of his sending him from one terrible part of hell to another.

The devil assumes the form of a titan seating atop a mountain. Watching the god futilely fight against the carrion crows that peck through the weak points of his armor.

The god is caught in a sandpit that sucks him into its depth. He kicks and claws, pushing the thrusters of his armor, it results in nothing substantial. When he regains his senses, he is on his knees before Mephisto, who is now seated atop a throne of fresh and bloody bones, the fires of hell raging beneath his palace amidst the waving tentacles of eldritch abominations trapped beneath the endless circles of damnation.

Demons cackled and the souls of the tortured cried. Some reaching out to the armored god, begging for absolution, for mercy.

“So kiddo, has the sheer stupidity of your actions dawned on you yet?”

With a grunt, the battered god rose to his feet, head raised high, eyes peering at the personification of corruption that was the devil “Mephisto, by the power of the blood in my veins, I hereby initiate my right to the inheritance”

“...Hmm” The devil began by tapping his chin. “So you found out. But what makes you think I’ll even honor it?”

“I assumed you’d say that.” Remarked the god.

Drawing deep from the well of power within him, ancient runes and glowing sigils flashed to life as he chanted.

“I, Hammer Von Doom call upon the Vishanti as my witness this day. See to my claim and upload the righteous pact of ages past!”

—RUMBLE!

The realm shook as power coalesced within. Power that burned away the corruption, immense power steeped in order. The resplendent visage of the Vishanti appeared above the hellscape as though it were a sun in a room. The light itself suppressed the stifling atmosphere of Hades, giving the god the leisure of breathing better.

In this circumstance the Vishanti served as arbiters of supreme power, a branch of the living Tribunal itself.

The devil snarled more in annoyance than in fury; this was its realm and this child thought itself to have come prepared. Slowly the side of his lips tugged upwards; things were going according to its plan.

Wherever the man turned god had gone to, whatever he had gone through; it had granted him tremendous power, it had made him stronger. Strong enough for Mephisto to assume the god’s body, without a fear of rejection. For the part of the blood running in the man’s veins was his. It counted on the man coming back to seek revenge, and once again it had been proven right.

And with the initiation of the inheritance rights, that just made it all the more easier for it to take over the god’s body.

No one would stop it, no one could, not even the one above, after all it was playing by the rules. The devil licked its lips in anticipation of feasting upon the god’s soul.

“Very well” spoke the devil, and so it became. The ground morphed into an arena surrounded by eager demons and shrieking souls, monitored from above by the all seeing eye of the Vishanti.

The god took an attack posture in contrast to the devil’s carefree form. Even though the inheritance rite took away the participants' magical might in favor of a more physical combat – Mephisto had been doing this since before cavemen learnt to use tools. This was his specialty, this was under the umbrella of his influence.

How could a mere mortal dare to think of even defeating the lord of hell in his own home? Many had tried, all had failed. This god would be no different.

With a surprising burst of speed the god charged at the devil.

Whistle! The demon blew. The god barely blocked the sneak attack aimed at his neck. The claws tearing chunks off of his enchanted armor.

Malevolence snarled, sensually licking her fingers in perfect repeat of how she licked the blood from his crushed heart. She invited the god to strike her with a com-hither gesture of her fingers.

The god rose to his feet, glancing at the silent Vishanti. The devil’s doings were allowed to be it seemed.

Swallowing down the lump in his throat; he extended buzzing blades of pure energy from his gauntlets.

“They must have forgotten to tell you that I could nominate a supporting participant. You know, home advantage and all that. Kekeke!” the Devil mocked the man. Aiming to weaken his psyche as much as he would weaken his body for the transfer to work.

The god fought valiantly, using his entire arsenal against the betrayer while staving off attacks from the devil. The fight raged on, will against craft, skill against brutality.

Blood spilled – more of it the god’s than the demons he fought.

Malevolence struck at the opening on the battered god’s side. Digging her claws deep into his midsection. She did not expect him to clench her hand still partly buried in his abdomen.

The god proceeded to deliver devastating strikes to the betrayers face, breaking her jaw and orbital bone, the side of her face collapsed, the impact force of the vicious strikes enough to send her rocketing out the arena and into the demon infested grounds. Gaining long awaited respite.

His respite was short lived, striking like lightning, the devil delivered a fatal attack. Mephisto wasn’t one to miss opportunities.

“Argh!” the god grunted, the fist through his midsection suspending him from the ground.

“Kekeke! I wonder how you saw this going any different”

[Devil may cry] The psionic voice whispered to the god.

“...Doombot initiating honey-trap protocols”

Mephisto squinted at the strange change in the man’s voice. Ripping away the helmet and for the first time in eons, the devil was surprised and duped. Staring dumbfoundedly at the bare machine face that looked back at him.

Mephisto was certain that this was Justin Hammer, the scent of Asgardian and demon blood was a testament to that, and should that not suffice, he could very well see the soul—souls did not lie.

Had he knowledge of the infinity stone being used at this time, perhaps he would have understood that even souls could be manipulated.

He felt the machine god’s internal organs clamp around his hand, the strange devices digging deep into his flesh and depositing themselves into his system. Had he had access to his magical might, this would've been impossible.

But the inheritance rite took away that might, and under the gaze and power of the Vishanti, he had no means of regaining it, unless he brought this ritual to a swift end by killing Hammer, or whatever this abomination that remained of him was.

“It’s too late for that,” Mephisto’s eyes widened, hearing the familiar voice speak from behind him. The devil was paralyzed and not from fear, but from the endlessly self replicating nanites that flooded his bio-system. Shutting down nerve centers that controlled his motor functions among other things. As shocking as the sight of watching the soul of the fake soul of Hammer upon the machine binding him fade away. What remained, he could tell possessed an Asgardian’s shell over mechanical components which ran on demon blood and a strange energy.

Justin Hammer came to hell in a white tank-top and black jeans. The proto-adamantium mask adorning his face being the only piece of armor on him. He approached Malevolence who was paralyzed in fear. The man was emitting an oppressive aura storm that killed the demons in droves—the ones that were foolish enough to get close to him. He strutted through hell with a confident gait and a regal disposition.

The overbearing, draconian aura bore down on her like the wrath of god. Her mind went blank, blank with terror as she saw her death repeat on a loop before her eyes, each death worse than the last. She watched – as though she were a spectator in a far away seat – the masked man wrapped his hand around her neck. Slowly, steadily, like a lover’s caress, like he was never angry in the first place, like the perceived aura was all an illusion.

“Watch this Eve, it’s going to be the most metal thing you’ll see yet” He spoke calmly. Not a hint of emotion in his voice.

Malevolence felt the hard fingers squeeze around her neck. It was when her lungs painfully burned that she remembered to struggle for air, lashing her claws at him. She felt those very same claws chip and break as sparks flew from each strike they made on his skin. If he was disturbed by it, he made no show of such.

Hammer raised her off the ground. One arm wrapped around her neck and the other on her shoulder – to keep her steady. He tugged hard.

RIP!

[Jesus, boss]

Malevolence watched her convulsing and profusely body fall to the floor, it took a moment before she understood that her head had been separated from her body. That was inaccurate – the betrayer’s entire spinal column still attached to her head had been intactly pulled from her body in one swift motion.

An orange light flashed. Malevolence’s shrieking soul was drawn into the gem, encrusted on the inside of Hammer’s mask. With each passing second, the devil felt even more trepidation; Mephisto, lord of hell, felt fear. And it was not for the one above all, but for the man who approached him.

Those predatory eyes boring into his. The thinly veiled murderous intent.

“I forfeit the inheritance rite” Hammer stated simply, turning the head in his hands to ash.

The light of the Vishanti flickered for an instant. The only evidence that the man’s choice perplexed them.

Mephisto staggered at the proclamation. Realizing that he could move again as his magical might returned. He wanted to rebuff the man on his blatant stupidity as he tore the flesh machine off his hands. “Are you mad?” The devil asked honestly. The man had him – well in a certain sense – why would he give up that advantage? This was not a man who did things without reason. There must be something he was not seeing.

“I don’t want to rule this shit hole. What I am going to do though, is teach you a lesson”

[Kick his ass boss]

“...KEKEKEKEK!!” The devil rumbled in laughter, “That was a great joke! Wow, how insane are you? Boy you missed the chance for that!”

The man snorted and cracked his knuckles “It’ll kick in any second...now”

“Ughhhh!” Mephisto fell to his knees as his core magical essence was driven to disorder.

“That’s Antimatter tuned to your magical signature. Right now inside of you, those nanites have deposited payloads the equivalence of anti-magic atomic bombs which are going off deep in your soul. The pain can’t be properly described can it?”

Smack The man delivered a right cross to the demon’s face.

“It’ll probably take you a century to get rid of all the nasty effects. You can forget about using magic”

Smack! Punch! Crack!

“Arghhh!” the devil screamed at the pain of his bones breaking. Mephisto was utterly mortal at this moment. No access to his reserves, no access to the nurture of his realm, no access to the inherent powers of his lineage, not even to the physical prowess of his body. His essence was in chaos, his system in a soul rending pain of unimaginable proportions.

Kicking the crawling devil across the ribs, sending bleeding and bruised Mephisto tumbling in pain and agony.

“You will remember this moment, when a man bested you. In your own realm without magic or some fucking dues ex machina!” He stated, pouring down a brutal beating upon the devil.

Slam! Punch! Kick! Punch!

“You will remember to never fuck with me!” Hammer raised the devil high and folded him down upon a stretched out knee.

CRACK!

“Aiiiieeee!!” Mephisto cried, blood dribbling with cracked bits of teeth down his open mouth. Tears straining past his extruding eyes and down his butchered face. His spine broken backwards.

“Heheh! I like that sound.” He said, wiping the demon’s blood on his blood drenched top—the blood wasn’t his.

“Tell me Mephisto, who will you never fuck with again?” He asked, raising the brutalized devil to face level. “Who!”

“..D-d-do..om..h.h.ham-m-m..e.r” The defeated devil spoke, barely cognizant.

“That’s right, bitch.” The man said, dropping the devil to the floor. Mephisto curled up, as though he were trying to minimize the attention he drew.

Hell was utterly silent. No longer was there the ever present gnashing of teeth, nor the cackle of demons. The denizens of Hades dared not even breathe loud, in fear of drawing the man’s ungodly wrath upon themselves.

Hammer picked up a piece of the devil’s broken horn, deciding to keep it as a souvenir.

“Portal to Earth, Eve”

[Y-yes Sir!]

“Keep hiding, Vanko” he chuckled at the tortured soul of the man who was his first kill.

Looking upwards at the Vishanti. “Consider all debts settled” He finished. The platform of light rising from beneath him to fully engulf his form.