“In the First Age, in the First Battle, when the shadows first lengthened, one stood.

Burned by the embers of Armageddon, his soul blistered by the fires of Hell and tainted beyond Ascension, he chose the path of perpetual torment.

In his ravenous hatred he found no peace; and with boiling blood he scoured the Umbral Plains seeking vengeance against the dark lords who had wronged him.

He wore the crown of the Night Sentinels, and those that tasted the bite of his sword named him...

The DOOM SLAYER.”

- Excerpt from the Slayer’s Testament

E1M6: The Shores of Hell

The Doom Slayer opened his eyes.

He found himself floating weightlessly in an abstract world of shadowed mountains, suspended in the midst of a sinister sanguine sky. Space and time as existed on Mars had ceased to exist. The light that shone in this world did not illuminate, and the mountains around him were not made of a rock that appeared on any mortal world.

The Slayer could sense the unmistakable nature of the reality he was now present in. It did not operate under the principles of his universe. Or any physical universe, for that matter.

The plane of existence he was present in was inconceivably more arcane.

More primeval.

Chaotic.

Home to powers beyond the comprehension of any mortal soul.

He was in an Immortal Realm.

He was in Hell.

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!!!!

A scorching inferno of savage fury ignited in the Slayer’s heart, overpowering his senses and filling his mind with blinding violence.

He willed a command unto the reality around him, and at once the formless world took the shape of a barren landscape at his feet, a dark ragged surface blotched with crimson veins. Feeling the sensation of ground beneath his feet, he blazed off with terrifying speed across the Hellscape searching for something to murder.

He did not care who or what it was.

He had died.

He had failed to stop Olivia Pierce from breaching the Fracture.

And now a Hellgate was fully open on Mars.

Something was going to die.

He sensed a presence some distance ahead, a demonic citadel populated with thousands of wretched beings.

A lot of somethings were going to die.

The Slayer swerved in the direction of the citadel with ravenous bloodlust coursing through his veins, crushing the ground with every step he took. He was rapidly approaching the citadel, located on the other side of a looming mountain that blocked his path.

Gritting his teeth with agonizing force as he sprinted even faster, the Slayer leapt into the air and smashed through the infernal mountain like a bullet through glass, sending great shards of rock and rubble flying like meteors.

The demonic fortress came into view. It was a despicable construct of dark and twisted metal like a mass of colossal sawblades, suspended in the hellish sky above the desolate wasteland.

At once, towering structures positioned around the citadel’s perimeter wailed in echoing alarm.

HE IS HERE.

The citadel’s Hellstorm Pylons, great cycloptic entities bearing ocular cannons and Cyclone Railguns, entered combat mode and set their sights on the charging Slayer as the fortress clearly prepared for emergency evacuation, but the Slayer had chosen his prey.

Great bolts of lightning erupted from the Pylons’ eyes towards the Slayer as their railguns fired enormous crackling slugs the size of fighter ships, but the Slayer was faster still. He dodged and strafed his way through the hail of missiles as he stayed his course for the citadel.

The fortress was rising away from the landscape, and the rippling waves of spacetime indicated its dimensional engines were entering operation. In a few moments the entire fortress would vanish and the Slayer’s opportunity would be gone.

A massive slug of infernal metal soared towards the Slayer, but instead of dodging he slightly shifted his position and dug his hands into the shell as it passed, spinning on his heel and, after taking careful aim, slinging it back at the citadel with monstrous force.

The missile blasted through the fortress’s exterior and tore its way through its structure, destroying one of the whirring dimensional engines. The multitude of Pylons immediately ceased firing their railguns to focus on their ocular cannons, but it was too late. The Slayer grabbed one of the last rail bolts and sent it flying at the remaining dimensional engine, crippling the citadel and leaving it stranded with him and his scorching rage.

With the distance between him and the fortress drawing to a close, the Slayer leapt off from the wasteland with a powerful thrust that shattered the ground before tearing through the eye of a Hellstorm Pylon and smashing his way into the citadel.

The blinded Pylon released a thunderous metallic groan as it crashed through the outer wall of the fortress, falling upon the twisted structures and the many demonic inhabitants within, but the Slayer’s rampage had just begun.

The Slayer crashed through tower after tower, falling through countless levels of complex edifices built up, down, and sideways, brutally crushing every wretched thing he could get his hands on. The residents were short impish creatures that fled in his presence, and before long the Slayer was drenched in purple blood.

He crushed their skulls beneath his feet, thrust his hands into their bodies and pulled out mangled messes of shredded organs, ripped their limbs off and broke their backs on his knee.

His rage knew no limits, and he spared no mercy.

A series of roars in his vicinity drew his attention backwards. A pack of scarlet Blood Knights, with inscribed runes and burning talons, was headed right for him.

They raised their hands and shot blazing streams of Hellfire at the Slayer, but his carnage would not be stopped. He charged through the infernal flames while charging a Blood Punch and released it in the midst of the monsters, feeling cruel satisfaction as their bones cracked beneath his fist. The Blood Knights set great swathes of volume afire and launched exploding fireballs that ate away at his HEALTH, but he didn’t care. He released Blood Punch after Blood Punch directly unto the demons’ faces, sending their brains flying and absorbing their life force to replenish his HEALTH and ARMOR.

HE HATED BLOOD KNIGHTS!!

A howling screech echoed through the gnarled edifices before a lightning-fast shape crashed into the Slayer, picking him up and carrying him as it flew between the structures. It was a Shrike, a biomechanical pterosaur-like demon with smooth black skin and a sleek snout full of needle-like teeth, with which it currently tried to maul the Slayer with. The furious Slayer freed himself by breaking off the creature’s legs and climbed unto its back before savagely punching at the demon’s head. The creature shrieked in anguish and spun in a vain attempt to throw the Slayer off, dispelling a drove of jagged spines from its back and impaling the Slayer, but he punched the Shrike’s head open and ripped out its cerebral unit. He clambered over to the plunging demon’s wing and tore off one of its arm cannons, leaping off and taking aim for the other two Shrikes surreptitiously flanking him. He triggered the arm cannon and shot a howling beam at the nearest Shrike, which exploded in a flaming mess of melted flesh and metal. The remaining Shrike tried to fire its own beams at the Slayer, but even in free-fall he swerved behind an edifice and quickly returned fire, dispatching his last pursuer before the severed cannon ran out of energy.

HE HATED SHRIKES!!

Rapidly approaching the citadel core, the Slayer focused a Blood Punch and released it unto the thick ragged surface in his path, smashing through it and landing in a large spacious chamber filled with a multitude of demons, presumably the citadel court. The crowd swiftly dispersed in a discordant cacophony of screams and howls, but the Slayer turned his gaze towards the citadel ruler, a regal Summoner-class demon lord with flowing gown and an infernal halo suspended behind its disgusting head. It cowered in petrified terror as the Slayer charged with fire in his eyes.

HE HATED DEMONS!!

There was a flash of scarlet lightning and the Slayer went Berserk.

* * *

Bottomless wells of green sludge where unfortunate souls sank for eternity. Living mountains that devoured entire cities whole and turned fortresses to waste. Terrible, ghastly things snaking between the ruins of shattered worlds.

My soul quivered before the horrendous sights flashing before me. I closed my eyes in an effort to shut them out, but I could not shut out the harsh screams of madness.

The dreadful howling morphed into the sound of air rushing past me, and the nightmare was over. To my wary relief, silence washed over me and I landed on solid ground.

Had I eaten recently, I imagined I would have thrown up, but I managed to shakily bring myself to my knees with little trouble.

I must be getting used to these Hell rifts.

“How are you, soldier? Mission-capable?”

“Yeah, I think I’m okay.”

I looked around to survey my surroundings. I was in some sort of tall interior compound, the rough grey surfaces mottled with thin red growths, probably some kind of plant. The environment was surprisingly well-lit thanks to a pale light that descended from ceiling channels, far clearer than the previous locations I’d been in.

But there was a peculiar sensation in my chest. The atmosphere here was worryingly heavy, and I felt a low thrumming reverberate through the world. It wasn’t completely silent, but I couldn’t spot any enemies or other creatures in this enclosed environment. There was virtually no line-of-sight either.

I’m sure I’ll find them later on. That’s how it always goes.

“Just take deep breaths, stay cool. You got this. Keep your fingers on your triggers and…don’t forget to look twice before you cross, understood?”

“Copy that,” I whispered in response, switching to my Skullfire spell and priming my machine guns before taking a single step, stopping when I heard a squelching splash.

I slowly looked down to find myself stepping in a puddle of red liquid with sinews of floating masses. I turned to the grey walls and took a second look at the growths.

“Ohhh, God. It’s not plants.”

* * *

The Doom Slayer lay on his back in the infernal wasteland, the sounds of the collapsing citadel rumbling around him as thunder echoed in the distance. The acts of destroying the fortress and massacring its inhabitants had provided enough catharsis to appease his rage, at least for the moment, and he felt merely upset now.

He stared blankly at the sanguine sky, taking a moment to collect his thoughts and analyze the situation.

He’d landed on The Shores of Hell, the outermost of Hell’s three spheres.

Obviously, since The Abyss was inaccessible from the Mortal Realm i.e. his universe, and Tartarus was…well, Tartarus.

Nothing got in. Nothing got out.

But that didn’t help at all. The Shores was the largest of Hell’s spheres, the one populated by consumed mortal worlds, their corrupted peoples, and most native demonic beings, intelligent or not.

And he didn’t recognize this particular region he’d landed in. Which was strange, considering the AGES he’d spent in Hell prior to being imprisoned. Many things must have changed in his absence. He could be anywhere.

Even more frustrating was that he had no way of returning to Mars…shit, he had no way of returning to his universe on his own!

The Praetor Suit had no interdimensional drive, meaning he’d have to hijack some other Hellgate just to return, and even then it might not drop him in 2149. ‘Time’ was a native quality of the Mortal Realm, it did not exist in higher planes of existence. Travel between the Mortal and Immortal Realms was simply not meant to happen. He could spend another eternity in Hell and arrive in Mars five minutes after he left, or he could take a magically-appearing portal at this very moment and arrive at the beginning of the Solar System…or its end. He could arrive to witness the origin of the universe and exist as a collection of fundamental particles for a couple millennia. Or arrive trillions of years in the future to a universe inhabited only by singularities and black dwarf stars.

Wouldn’t be the first time, either.

Of course, he could take the Fracture portal back to Mars and perhaps even 2149…

…if he only knew where the other side of the Fracture portal was!

The Slayer’s heartbeat spiked with anger once more, and he focused on staying calm.

The Prime Barrier separating Hell from the rest of Creation still held. Prevented the exfiltration of even the greatest Infernal powers and, given the circumstances, himself. He might be able to exploit one of his old shortcuts through the Barrier, but again, he didn’t know his current whereabouts, and the nearest drop point he knew of to 2149 Mars was…

Ugh…

This was getting him nowhere! He didn’t want to spend another eternity jumping across worlds and realms to get back to some shithole planet he’d failed to keep his ass on just because of some bloody Cyber Paladin! Earth could become victim to a full-blown invasion in the time he was playing interdimensional hopscotch and getting shitcanned by mere Hell Knights! He needed to get back to Mars NOW!!!

He slammed his fist on the ground, paying no attention to the spreading crack that split the landscape in two.

A sudden wave of realization washed over the Slayer.

He might have been able to hijack the demonic citadel to determine his whereabouts and perhaps even use it for transportation, at least for the time being, had he not completely wrecked it.

That had probably been a poor decision.

A new sound appeared on the horizon. A long, harsh, desolate roar. Basilisks.

The Slayer sighed and sat up.

He might as well get a move on. Basilisks were tough and he was not in the mood to fight even one, especially not with 62 HEALTH. He groaned in irritation and picked himself up.

The Slayer headed deeper into the ruins of the demolished fortress. These constructs always had a Hive Nexus to coordinate their position, travel routes, local dangers and whatnot. If he was lucky and the Nexus wasn’t completely wrecked, he could boost his automap with that.

He brought up his automap as he scoured the citadel’s remains. The divination court. A communion hub. A charred sparking mess that had once been a dimensional engine, before a Cyclone rail bolt was thrown through it.

The Slayer cleared his throat and turned back to his map.

There! A map station icon appeared in his display and he raced to where indicated. Taking great leaps, he cleared a mountain of rubble until he reached a spacious chamber carved from polished stone. The Slayer hurried to the structure in the center, a pool of thick viscous fluid above which floated varying orbs of the same substance, growing, shrinking, and orbiting each other. He lightly poked the swirling liquid with one finger, watching waves of runes spread across the orbs as his automap flashed with an extensively detailed diagram of the region.

Blood Keep? That was new.

It seemed the map covered only the local sector of the region, which the Slayer guessed to be far larger than illustrated. And yup, there were the Basilisks. Big, scaly, and cunning beasts, fond of feeding on consumed planets.

The Slayer took a closer look at his automap.

Strange, he couldn’t find a single planet in the surrounding region. He could see the remains of countless planets – continent-size shards floating in the emptiness, the perfect feeding ground for Basilisks – but not a single complete world in the whole sector. There were a few Parasite Moons in the area but those didn’t count. No Predator Worlds, no Tyrant Stars, no higher powers of any kind.

But there was a Blood Storm nearby. Great.

No permanent forts or signs of intelligent agencies either. There HAD been this citadel, but that was a mobile fortress, and the inhabitants were a scavenger race. Apart from a few wild Hell beasts, the least unconcerning of which were the Basilisks, the region was unusually empty.

Something big had happened here.

A high-pitched roar resonated nearby, and as he switched off the automap, the Slayer spotted a gigantic serpentine shadow slither in the sky behind a floating mountain. A juvenile Basilisk, about a hundred meters long, come to feast on the wrecked citadel.

The Slayer equipped his combat shotgun and turned to the Hellscape, not wanting to get caught in a Blood Storm or between a Basilisk and its prize. The automap indicated a resource stache not too far away, no doubt a temporary shelter from some long-past mortal expedition. He’d salvage what he could from it and figure it out from there.

He pumped his shotgun and raced away into the infernal wastes.

* * *

Ruby stared in horror at the image of the ruptured Tower on the display monitor.

It was bad enough that the Hellgate was fully open now, allowing into Mars all manner of nightmarish monstrosities, but to make matters worse, the sun had gone down and night had fallen.

Their chances of survival had gone down to practically zero.

“Agent!”

Ruby had already noticed. A ring of teleporter pods throughout the lobby whirred into operation around them.

“MOVE!”

“Wait! Our helmets!”

“LEAVE THEM!”

The group raced down the hallway into the Helix Labs as the possessed soldiers warped into the chamber and released Hellish roars. She provided cover fire with her pulse rifle to let the others hurry away as the demons started shooting.

“GET TO THE HANGAR! IT’S ON THE EAST END!”

Reeves, Rogers, and Romero managed to stay ahead of their pursuers and most of the incoming projectiles at a brisk sprinting speed, but Harrison was lagging behind and before long fell back to Ruby’s position.

“Christopher! You need to hurry!”

“I can’t! Aaah! My legs!”

Ruby looked down at the scientist’s legs. There were glowing runes perforating into his suit’s white plating, and she could see blood dripping through the cracks.

“No! NOOO!”

Ruby charged a power blast and released the crackling orb at the demons. The orb exploded on impact and reduced a half dozen soldiers into steaming fluids smeared on the walls. She pulled the trigger again to fire on the remaining demons but the rifle didn’t respond, the trigger repeatedly clicking with no reaction. Grunting in frustration, she slung the firearm and bent down to hoist Harrison on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Christopher. I’m getting you out of here. Romero! Rogers! Help us!”

The two men turned around and hurried to assist the two stragglers but then they raised their weapons at a point behind Ruby.

“Look out!”

Ruby heard the telltale screech of imps behind her.

She pulled out her EMG with her right hand as she carried Harrison with her left, and desperately fired at the loathsome creatures while hurriedly shambling towards safety, trying to avoid the fireballs flying through the corridor at them.

A sudden flash of cold fear pierced through Ruby’s head, and she shut her eyes in an effort to drown out the mocking voices.

“AAAAHH!” Harrison yelled in pain and fell out of Ruby’s grip.

“Christopher!”

Harrison’s left foot was gone, the charred stump smoking where a fireball had pierced through the weakened armor and gone through flesh and bone. Ruby saw the desperate supplication in the elderly scientist’s eyes as he stared up at her with imps gaining on him, fangs dripping and eyes lurid.

“Agent!”

Ruby vaguely moved in the direction of the injured scientist, but in a split-second the pack pounced on him and she could only see blood flying through thrashing demon limbs.

“CHRISTOPHER!”

“Look out, Taylor!” Rogers appeared at her side and pulled her away. Harrison’s arm was visible through the flailing horde, holding a primed frag grenade.

She reflexively fell to the floor.

BOOM!!

The explosion left her ears ringing and she hazily looked up, trying to gather her bearings through the smoke and ashes.

The voices had vanished. Thick black blood ran down the walls and dripped from the ceiling, and scattered across the room were rune-scarred plates of armor, which had once belonged to a UAC security suit.

No…

“-lor! Taylor! We have to go!”

Ruby heavily picked herself up and absent-mindedly followed the Lieutenant. The fog in her head cleared when she read the sign MAIN HANGAR over an upcoming door.

“There…THERE IT IS!”

The gate slid open as they approached, and the team raced towards the lone shuttle parked in the hangar, a dim chamber with a glass ceiling that revealed the Martian night sky. Clambering up the craft’s steel ladders, they rushed through the open entry port and Ruby went straight to the pilot cabin.

“Everyone fasten your seatbelts! We’re taking off now!”

Ruby performed the preflight startup sequence and powered the shuttle up but stopped immediately when she read the message displayed on the dashboard, her blood running cold as ice.

No, God. Please, God. No.

ERROR: SHUTTLE CANNOT BE LAUNCHED

PRIMARY AIR CONTROL NETWORK UNAVAILABLE

FOREIGN SIGNAL INTERFERING WITH NAVIGATION SYSTEMS

TRACING ANOMALY…

ORIGIN: LAZARUS LABS --> LAZARUS REFRACTOR

* * *

I rolled my fingers across the corner of the corridor and cautiously peeked around the corner. Nothing.

I stepped around the corner and carefully walked on the driest surfaces I could spot poking through the surface of the…warm liquid that covered most of the floor.

Thank God I can’t smell anymore.

Small moist masses disgustingly plopped from holes in the walls onto the puddles that had accumulated throughout the place, but I was careful to not make any additional noise in that horrendous place. I didn’t know what might be listening.

“ROOOOAAAAHHHH!”

I instantly froze.

“Don’t talk,” whispered Colonel Johnson into my ears. Or brain, or something. “I’m taking scans of this place. There’s definitely something big moving nearby, but the place is a maze and the readings are all scrambled. Go through that door on your left. NOW.”

I obeyed without hesitation, splashing across the wet floor and ducking under a low doorway that immediately took a sharp left, then a right, as it led into a narrow hallway lit by sickly yellow ceiling fixtures. As soon as I entered the passage, I heard something heavy turn the corner I’d been in not ten seconds earlier and loudly splash across the liquid. There were legs. Many legs.

Something small silently crawled out of a hidden recess in the wall and I stepped on it out of reflex, making a loud splat as I crushed tissue and bone.

OH FU-

“Hurrrr.”

I stood as still as my shivering limbs would allow, hearing whatever was out there stop right outside the tunnel entrance. It softly growled and took several deep sniffs of the doorway, but it didn’t pass through.

Please, let it be too big to pass through the doorway.

Wait. No, WAIT.

After a horrifying amount of time, the thing snapped its jaws and continued roaming outside, its footsteps echoing and fading into silence.

How many legs is that? ... Well, it’s definitely more than four. Probably not greater than ten. Ohhh…

“I think it’s gone now.”

“Please tell me that I can reach a teleporter without having to go back out there.”

“There’s a gate apparatus at the center of the maze, but this tunnel doesn’t go all the way.”

I sighed in desperation.

“What you can do is check out the end of this hallway. It could be a dead end, but you might find something useful.”

I looked down at the creature I had crushed with my foot. It was like an overgrown spider with many spindly legs and a large central body, now splattered across the floor, that almost seemed made up entirely of brain tissue. I couldn’t spot anything that might have been an eye or mouth in the low light.

This one hadn’t been much of a threat, but the sound it made…I had to be careful.

The corridor remained surprisingly linear as it meandered within the maze’s wall, with no branching paths despite the frequent turns, but I kept a watchful eye for anything that might jump out from the shadows. I switched to my flak cannons and brandished the Bronze Spear, ready for anything.

“AAAAHHHH!”

A horrid creature, like a floating snake-like humanoid with short spikes for arms and a gaping lamprey-like maw, suddenly appeared from behind a corner. I immediately opened fire and thrust my spear into the monster, which lowly groaned before being reduced to a splattered mess on the wall.

“God DAMN…,” I whispered while breathing heavily.

I collected myself and continued, taking care not to rush around corners before arriving at a dead end.

At least, the corridor came to a stop and there were no doors or further paths I could take, but I just stood trying to comprehend what lay before me.

On the wall at the very end of the hallway was a pulsating mass of flesh and slime. It was like a giant fleshy starfish, countless vines splitting into further branches which snaked across the adjacent walls, floor, and ceiling. These vines were acting as vessels of some sort, softly throbbing and channeling fluid towards the structure at its center, a collection of small fleshy orbs.

I gagged and turned to leave.

“Hold on, wait! I’ve read about this! This is some sort of parasite nest!”

“What’s…ugh, what’s this got to do with me?”

“Those things in the center are blood-sucking leeches! They adhere to a host and usually feed on their blood, but when Argent energy is applied to them, they can draw blood from other creatures at a distance!”

“Why would I want…”

I thought back to the pale Tree, and how my chassis was restored from the blood sap the Tree had accumulated from its victims.

“Okay, I think I’m getting it.”

“Yeah, if you apply your core energy, you can use one of these suckers to heal your injuries.”

The small orbs gently quivered within their nest, producing wet squelching sounds.

“You said these are parasites?”

“The company ran some tests, and apparently they can survive just fine on siphoned blood.

Use your spear and pry one off. GENTLY. You don’t want to disturb the whole nest.”

I raised my spear and softly poked one of the squirming leeches on the outermost edge of the nest, which promptly released a sharp hiss. I forced down my revulsion and pressed on.

Using the tip of the Bronze Spear, I slowly eased the tiny leech from its nest. It was attached to the wall by thin curling ligaments, which combined with its gelatinous body and underbody mouth, gave it the appearance of a tiny red octopus.

“Disgusting. What do I do with this now?”

“Are you left-handed or right-handed?”

“Right.”

“Place it on the palm of your left hand. With some luck, it’ll bond to it and let you siphon blood from demons if you apply some Argent energy.”

I took another look at the wretched thing on the end of my spear. Its tendrils wiggled slightly in the air as it no doubt searched for something living to stick to. I guessed I would have to do. I would have preferred to keep such a thing as far away as possible or to squish it beneath my foot, but the ability to heal my injuries was too good to pass up.

And it’s not like there were medpacks in Hell.

I brought the end of the Bronze Spear closer and I reached out with my left hand, onto which the leech promptly leaped on and bit into.

It hurt.

“AAAAAAHHHHHH!”

I could feel the leech tearing at my hand with its mouth and digging its tendrils in. There were splatters of blood.

My blood.

My vision began to erode into a field of static as my head fell victim to a mind-splitting migraine. The static melted away to reveal a horrific skeletal arm, lacking skin, tissue, and implanted with metallic implements. Amid the twisted bony fingers, a ravenous leech dug into what remained of flesh in the palm of the hand.

My hand…!

“Huh?”

I found myself clutching at my arm on the floor.

What…what am I doing here? What just happened?

I glanced around at the dim sickly corridor as I gathered my bearings.

God, these lapses feel like they’re getting worse. I hope my head doesn’t glitch in the middle of a fight.

“Soldier? Soldier, come in.”

It was Colonel Johnson’s voice over the radio.

“Colonel! Yes, reporting!”

“Are you okay, soldier? I lost you there for a second.”

“I…I don’t know what happened. My head kind of aches.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“The last thing?”

I turned to the pulsating fleshy mass on the wall. Had I come into contact with it?

“I’m…I’m not sure. I recall just walking along this tunnel. I think there were bugs here. Big ones.

Ugh, my memory’s not getting any better. It might just be getting worse. What happened to me, Colonel?”

“Hell’s messing with your wires, John. Your chassis is tough but it won’t protect you forever, you’ve got to get out of there. Follow what I tell you and you’ll be back home soon, I promise.”

I grabbed my spear and was about to leave when I caught sight of a diagram on the stone wall. A square layout of parallel and perpendicular lines, almost like a maze, roughly sketched onto the wall.

Wait a minute, is that THIS maze?

Perhaps, but the structure was bafflingly complex and didn’t seem to follow any sort of logic or reason. To me it just seemed a mindless mess of lines and crosses, although which occasionally resembled familiar letters or numbers. An “H,” a “2,” the entire northeast corner even resembled a complete “1337,” but that was probably just me trying to make sense of random scribbles.

I sighed and headed back out the narrow winding hallway.

“Soldier?”

“Copy that. One more thing: did…did something happen to my hand? I think I remember you telling me something about…blood? And Argent?”

“I’ve just finished running some diagnostics on your systems. Your left hand’s Hemokinetic Field module is up and running.”

“That sounds important.”

“I should hope so. Spend a little of your core’s Argent energy to siphon enemy blood and repair your injuries? Courtesy of the Union Aerospace Corporation. Doesn’t get much better than that.”

Reaching the end of the corridor which opened back onto the chamber, I slowly peeked around the corner. There was something at the far end of the channel. I briefly caught sight of a huge and pale slug-like shape staring dead at me before rushing away with its many legs.

“Of course, results in the field may vary.”

“I can’t stay here for too long, Colonel. Get me to the next portal. I need to keep moving.”

“Copy that.”

* * *

The Doom Slayer soared into the sanguine sky, leaping off from one dark continental shard floating in the emptiness to the next. The sponge-like fragments were riddled with massive holes and tunnels, the work of Basilisks feeding on the remains of countless worlds, and the Slayer kept a sharp lookout for any sudden movement. He could deal with demons slashing or shooting at him, but the experience of being swallowed whole had always been an exceedingly unpleasant one.

He would have preferred to navigate the region with the Praetor Suit’s Inertia Drive. That way he wouldn’t need to expend conscious power and focus to manipulate the abstract environment for the mere act of traversal, but he made do with his jump pack.

He disliked flying. Moving without the use of his legs always felt so unnatural. The firm sensation of ground beneath his feet, even the unholy grounds of Hell, was far more preferable.

Looking down from the summit of a yawning precipice, he could see a river of blood snaking through a forest of dark boney trees at the base of the sheer mountainside, where the automap indicated the resource stache. He leapt off the cliff and slid down the surface, coming to a halt at the place marked by his automap.

The Slayer raised his eyebrows.

He’d been expecting a meager shelter constructed by some unfortunate travelers, maybe some simple sigils to keep local beasts away.

He was not expecting a small fleet of black rune-inscribed dropships stationed beneath the cover of a Hellish forest, and certainly not ships bearing the UAC logo.

He’d never seen these kinds of UAC ships before. There were five small craft, some twenty meters long, positioned in a ring around what was a makeshift camp. There were runes of protection etched on the vessel’s hulls to shield the camp from the infernal elements, as well as runes of concealment to hide them from most unwanted sights.

The Slayer could tell the protection runes weren’t properly implemented, which explained the dead bodies inside the camp and the twisted figures outside of it, but they would have lasted long enough to enable a small expedition. And although long since destroyed, there were the remains of space-time continuum generators to maintain a bubble of reasonably stable space-time.

It was almost impressive.

He grabbed his M1911 pistol and casually fired at the once-human atrocities shambling towards him, horrific contortions of flesh and bone. Some retained a vague humanoid shape but wore their thin sinewy skin like a veil over their seared flesh and liquefied factions, multiple extraneous limbs reaching for him. These were merely Damned, those who had lost themselves to Hell’s power and retained no semblance of intelligence, condemned to wander the wastes for all eternity. But there were also Apostates, engorged figures who carried within the capricious souls of those they had condemned.

These groaned at the sight of the Slayer and painfully shuffled towards him, desperate to be freed from their torment. The Damned fell with a single bullet to the head and crumbled into ash on the ground but the Apostates exploded on death and released swarms of Ricti, black Lost Souls that spat fireballs at the Slayer. The Slayer took care to avoid the incoming projectiles as he eliminated the creatures with little heed.

The Slayer expected munitions and other supplies inside the camp, but he left two Damned alive in case he needed to restock with his chainsaw.

Entering the camp’s protected perimeter, the first thing the Slayer did was head for the autocannon mounted on the fallen heavy infantry mech at the edge of the camp. He cautiously studied the weapon’s structure before ripping it from the mech’s hands, watching as his Praetor Suit retrofitted its components into something he could manually fire.

DELTA-12 30 MM CHAINGUN ACQUIRED

MUNITION TYPE – BULLETS

PRIMARY FIRE – AUTOMATIC FIRE AFTER SPINNING UP TO FULL SPEED

SECONDARY FIRE – NONE

NOTE: ROUNDS FIRED ARE PIERCING AND INCENDIARY; EACH ROUND COSTS 2 BULLETS

This. Now this was a weapon, thought the Slayer as he contemplated the weight of the gun in his hands, a wicked grin spreading inside his helmet. His rocket launcher worked just fine, but there were few sensations more satisfying than the recoil of a machine gun and the sound of raining lead. Or tungsten, in this case.

Putting his new tool away into his Suit’s storage matrix for the time being, the Slayer entered the main settlement, noticing the remains of another four mechs. Clearly not enough for this ill-fated expedition. He climbed aboard the nearest of the wrecked ships, curious to see if there was anything he could do with the interdimensional drive.

Well, the Slayer thought as he looked over the defunct apparatus, the drive had certainly once been mid-twenty-second-century state-of-the-art UAC technology, but Hell’s reality had corrupted its components beyond recognition. The drive was covered with a thick layer of blackish rust etched with gnarled symbols and nail scratch marks, and its insides were a fused mess of amalgamated wiring.

His Praetor Suit… It itself may be damaged, but was there anything his Praetor Suit could do?

He kneeled closer to the corroded drive and ran a deep systems scan with the Suit.

RUNNING ANALYSIS…PROCESSING…

ANALYSIS COMPLETE: FAILURE

DRIVE IS TOO CORRUPTED TO REPAIR OR REVERSE ENGINEER

The Slayer briefly hesitated before punching the drive in frustration.

He stepped outside of the ship and contemplated what to do next when he began to hear a low whispering. Nothing unusual, considering his whereabouts, but he could hear faint words and lines of human dialogue. It must have been the impressions of the human travelers, imprinted into the physicopsychic Hellscape. The Slayer widened his senses, focusing on the ghostly images of the UAC workers coming into view.

There were a few dozen figures performing various tasks such as unloading cargo from the ships, mounting equipment for operation, standing guard in various weaponized mechs. The majority of the travelers were workers, their envirosuits etched with personal sigils of protection, but there were also a number of strange robotic figures among them.

They looked like Hayden. Their color scheme was black-and-red instead of white-and-blue, they had Hellish sigils blazing on their chests, and a demonic outline with clawed hands and sharp edges, but they bore uncanny resemblance to the Martian Director. What were they? Cyborgs? Robots? Or something else? The Slayer quickly glanced around the camp for any sign of these figures. They were nowhere to be found.

Putting them out of his mind for the time being, the Slayer focused on the four human guards dressed in red armor among the travelers, keenly watching over the settlement in combat gear and carrying…what the hell were they carrying?

Those weren’t firearms the Slayer was familiar with; they were glossy black rifles with angular faceted surfaces and multi-pronged barrels. Were those some new type of plasma gun? They were branded with the UAC logo and clearly made for human hands, but the Slayer wondered if they too were reverse-engineered from Hellish artifacts.

Extracting infernal Argent energy, cybernetically augmenting demons, intentionally demonizing humans, even creating weaponry from Hell technology. What else was the UAC doing? What was the goal of all this?

Was this the work of the Lazarus Project?

With a furious scowl, he turned his attention to what the travelers were saying.

“Continuum generators online. Camp-wide Hayden Field up and running at ninety-nine point seventy-eight percent capacity.”

“Doctor Hayden won’t accept those parameters.”

“It’s within the margin of error, it’s acceptable.”

Wait, Hayden had accompanied this expedition?

The Slayer turned to the rest of the camp to search for Hayden when he spotted his cybernetic frame standing head, shoulders, and chest above the others, beneath the shadow of a sixth ship that had been parked at the center of the camp. He was taller than the Slayer expected, a full three meters in height from head to toe.

Arrogant asshole.

“Doctor Hayden, all preparations are complete. The camp is secure. Standing by for your orders.”

“Are the field generators fully operational?”

“There is slight variation in the Calabi-Yau manifold output, but it’s within the margin of error.”

“There is no margin of error for this operation. I trust the generators will be operating at maximum capacity by the time I return.”

“Of course, Director.”

“Echo Squad,” Hayden spoke as he turned away from the worker, “get to the command ship and begin Phase Two. We head to the tomb at once.”

Tomb? What tomb?

The faint reflections of Hayden and two of the red guards stepped aboard the sixth ship and vanished, but the Slayer was affixed on the object that had lay hidden behind Hayden’s frame. His focus returned to the present, and the rest of the travelers’ impressions faded into silence.

It was a sword. A white longsword with a thick crossguard, black edge, and cracked blade, embedded into the ground in the center of a vivid blue bonfire. The sapphire flames gently lapped and rolled against the blade and hilt, but these suffered no harm. It was Purefire, a cleansing force whose rival was that which blazed across the Hellscape, but the Slayer was focused on the Argenta longsword, recognizing the campsite as the final resting place of a Night Sentinel warrior.

And he would know, for it was he who’d laid them to rest.

The memories of him holding the broken bodies in his arms as he shouted at the Heavens in anguish flooded his mind, and his endless fury became marred with a long-forgotten sorrow, and a guilt as sharp and piercing as the sword before him.

When Argent D’Nur fell, it was he who tracked down his fallen Sentinel brothers, scattered across Hell by devilish treachery, and laid their bodies to rest.

Every last one. Because the one responsible for their deaths was him.

The Slayer approached the sword, ignoring the Purefire scorching through his armor and searing at his soul. He reached out and hesitated before placing his hand upon the pommel.

To his surprise, the sapphire flames immediately siphoned into the blade and passed into his outstretched hand before being absorbed by his body. His HEALTH rose from 62 to 100 and the bonfire vanished to leave nothing but the faintly glowing sword smoldering in the ground.

Just as he pondered what had happened, a new apparition manifested before him, one even paler and more ethereal than those of the UAC workers he’d witnessed.

It was the spirit of the fallen Night Sentinel. The spirit said nothing, standing calmly before the Slayer.

He recognized the distinct presence of the warrior. Gor had been his name, soldier of the 31st Legion, obstinate and relentless till the end. After breaking his blade on a pack of Hellions, he had slain another two score with his hands before falling.

He remembered them all.

The spirit of Gor then moved, raising an arm to point in a direction far into the distance. The Slayer focused on where the warrior pointed.

His sight fell upon a deceased Black Pyramid hidden away deep within the Blood Keep, a monolithic entity of glass and stone. Devious things which the Slayer vehemently hated, but he spotted the exceedingly powerful seals of containment – now broken – placed over the Pyramid, and the UAC ship docked at a breach in its surface. The sixth ship!

The Pyramid must be the tomb for whatever Hayden had personally come to Hell looking for, and whatever portal mechanism they had established must be how the cyborg returned to the mortal universe. If Hayden had returned, then so could he.

The spatial coordinates must be set to Mars and the temporal coordinates must likewise be sometime recent. He might be wrong, or the portal might no longer be functional, but it was leagues better than nothing.

The Slayer brought his focus back to his location and the spirit of Gor. The fallen warrior placed a fist over his heart in salutation before lightly bowing his head and vanishing. His HUD pinged with an automap notification. He opened the region map to find the Black Pyramid marked at the other end of the sector. His new objective.

With newfound purpose, the Slayer quickly turned around and hurried throughout the camp, picking up serviceable supplies while his Praetor Suit synthesized ammo from any viable resources. Plasma cells, bullet belts, a case of rockets, fresh grenades and mines, and a full stock of batteries for the chainsaw. Most of the workers’ armors were too corrupted to be of use, but one of the infantry mechs had just enough plating to reward the Slayer with 75 ARMOR, and a combination of medical supplies and natural Argent energy deposits boosted his HEALTH to 153.

Restocked, recharged, and with a new heavy weapon in his arsenal, the Slayer turned to the two Damned he’d left wandering outside the camp. He pulled out his new D12 chaingun and spun the barrels up, taking aim at the Damned.

He paused for a moment, focusing on the whirring of the weapon and the vibration of its motor, before changing his mind and taking his finger off the trigger. He put the chaingun away and instead killed the Damned with a Blood Punch.

* * *

“Colonel, where’s that big thing?”

“Eh…your location’s structure is interfering with the readings, I can’t get a clear lock. It doesn’t seem like its following you yet, but it damn certain knows you’re there.”

“Affirmative.”

I took careful steps across the ankle-deep pools of that cursed place, ever wary of invisible pits beneath the murky fluid or of shapes that may suddenly leap out from the many branching tunnels. I focused on not staring for too long into those dark halls or into the ground material slowly oozing out from channels in the walls.

There was the sound of splashing echoing around the corner. I carefully peeked around to find a horrendous thing – like a hunched long-limbed skeleton covered with hanging strips of bloody sinews – violently thrashing across the puddles and snapping at a small spider-like critter desperately hopping away. I leaned myself a bit further for a better view and the larger creature immediately turned and stared in my direction. Its head was devoid of eyes with only two empty sockets piercing through my soul, and I noticed the long sharp beak attached to its bony head. In fact, with its low hunched stature, clawed feet, and long sinewy arms that resembled wings, the thing was not unlike some sort of hellish vulture.

“AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!”

Its harsh shriek brought me to full alert and I jumped out from behind the corner with spinning machine guns and hands ready to throw fireballs. I opened fire on it but it rushed out of the way with surprising speed, clinging to the walls with its long bony limbs and splashing liquid to throw off my aim. It swung its arm and threw the hanging sinews in my direction, the fleshy rinds striking hard as bullets and prompting my overshield to trigger.

“Ugh! Vulgar piece of-!”

I readied a fireball and threw it at the thing, which hit its mark and set it on fire. The creature howled and thrashed as it splashed across the puddles trying to put itself out, but the sinister flames only spread across its hanging viscera and engulfed it entirely. Grimacing in disgust, I readied another fireball and launched it at the creature again. The fireball hit and the thing burst apart into bony fragments burning throughout the dark puddles, its head bobbing silently on the surface.

“Hissssss…”

A malicious hissing drew my attention above and behind me. There was something fluttering through the air close to the ceiling, but it was concealed in the shadows and I couldn’t spot it.

“AAAHHH!”

A glob of green slime suddenly struck me from in the direction of the hissing. It sizzed on my overshield and hardened into a scaly crust before flaking off, restricting my movement while on my chassis.

“Damn you!”

I switched to my flak cannons and blindly into the shadows while throwing fireball after fireball at the ceiling. It wasn’t long before something got hit and dropped lifelessly to the puddles.

“Aoooo…”

The new sound echoed all around and sent shivers up my spine. It was a dozen of those wicked figures I’d seen earlier, snake-like with stubby arms and round gaping mouths, slowly floating out of the hallways as far as I could see. They were scraggy and thin, but their numbers were concerning and the mob was not backing down. The one nearest to me growled menacingly and I could see flames rising through its maw.

“OooOH SHI-!”

I triggered my dash jets to move out of the way of the fireball, but it curved through the air and struck my overshield. It turned red and I realized I couldn’t take many more hits.

“John! Get out of there!”

I switched to machine guns and opened fire on the mob with piercing rounds, backing away rapidly to dodge the slow but tracking projectiles they spat.

“Above you!”

I looked up to find a swarm of small round creatures flutter out from recesses in the ceiling. They had leathery skin, small finger-like protrusions on their undersides, and a long smoking snout filled with wide flat teeth. Their swollen bodies had no other features and they almost resembled disembodied heads.

I recognized them as the creatures like the one that had spat the green slime at me, so I switched to my longer-ranged missile launchers and launched several volleys at the approaching swarm while hurrying away deeper into the maze. Another glob struck me and my overshield burst with a shockwave that knocked the closest creatures back, but the rest kept advancing and I took several hits directly to my body. The slime burned and slowed me down while the fireballs blasted through my chassis.

“AAAHHH!”

“Your Hemokinetic Module! Use it to heal your wounds!”

Of course! That blood-siphoning thing that Colonel Johnson had brought online! I held my left hand out and channeled my mana into it, watching in amazement as crackling scarlet beams burst from my fingers and electrified the nearest floating creature. The thing groaned as blood was ripped from its body and was focused through the beam to me, mending my wounds and repairing my chassis.

“Sweep the beam across them! It’ll stun them that way!”

My mana was running low but I did as the Colonel ordered, sweeping the beam across the horde while sprinting away. All the beasts struck by the beam halted momentarily as scarlet bolts arced across their bodies, giving me time to back away and steal their blood simultaneously.

My mana was out but I was fully restored.

I switched back to my machine guns but this time toggled to explosive rounds and opened fire on the mob. The machine gun configuration had much faster projectiles and firing rate than the missile launchers, thinning the horde out much quicker.

Suddenly my guns stopped shooting.

“Huh? What’s happening?”

“Your machine guns’ ammo pools are dry! They have to regenerate! But your mana is coming back!”

“Hell yeah! Let’s light these bastards up!”

I primed my hands in preparation for a flame wave and was about to release the spell when a haunting bellow echoed through the halls.

“ROOOOAAAAHHHH!!”

Immediately the multitude dispersed in a dozen different directions, with the flying critters hurrying away to recesses in the ceiling while the floating beasts slowly fled down the many corridors.

“Johh, the big thing’s moving! It’s headed right for you!”

“WHAT THE- WHERE IS IT? WHERE DO I GO?”

“-straight ahead! Turn around! Go back! Go back!”

I stood still for a few moments in utter confusion before I heard the sound of heavy splashing ahead and spotted something large and pale in the distance rushing down the tunnel straight for me.

Failing to even shout in mind-numbing terror, I simply turned around and ran for dear life. Everything became a ceaseless blend of identical corners and hallways, and the sounds of splashing, roaring, and Colonel Johnson’s profane shouting all blended together into a cacophony of madness.

There was a gate! An actual door sealing off a section of the maze! I didn’t know if the gate could be opened but the splashing was getting closer, and the door seemed just low enough to allow me to enter. Beneath the splashing I could hear the panting of whatever was chasing me.

Something landed on the puddles not far behind, then something else to my right. Without warning, something struck my back and brought me to a lurching halt.

“Oof!”

I turned around to find a mass of thick mucus sticking me to the ground and completely preventing my escape. I tore at the mass with my hands but it was almost completely solid.

“ROOOOAAAAHHHH!!”

Desperate, I pulled my knife out and slashed at the ropey tendrils. It worked. I freed myself from my bindings and continued to run like hell.

I was almost there, just a bit further. I used my dash jets to zigzag while running as something kept spitting mucus in my direction. I primed my machine guns ready to blast the gate apart but astoundingly it slid open as I approached.

“Uggghhh AAAAAAHHHHHH!!”

I fired my dash jets and soared through the opening with outstretched arms. I lost my balance in the leap and landed hard on my arms, sliding across the floor a considerable distance but I’d made it.

The gate slid shut behind me.

SLAM!

Something heavy crashed against the door, sending tremors through the floor and rattling my vision, but the gate did not break or open.

“ROOOOAAAAHHHH!”

I looked up in search of an escape route. Nothing. There were intricate sculpted patterns on the walls to contrast from the mostly plain corridors outside but the room was a dead end.

I was trapped.

SLAM SLAM! SLAM!

Whatever was outside was clearly pissed off and trying desperately to break in, but I guessed I was safe for the moment. The thing growled and I heard its heavy footsteps slink away, but I knew better than to go outside and check.

Struggling to calm down, I heavily picked myself up as my heart raced inside my chest.

Guess this tin man’s still got a heart.

All right, let’s consider our options. Small room, dead end. Big angry thing outside. Probably too big to take down before it eats me…if I can take it down at all, that is. This is Hell, the thing might decide it doesn’t give a shit about bullets.

I sighed and slumped against the wall.

What about spells? Flame wave hits har- no, same thing. Don’t know if I can hurt the thing at all. I could just be throwing spitballs before it catches up to me.

Ugh…I’m screwed.

I half-heartedly slammed the wall in exhaustion, which to my surprise moved under the pressure from my hand.

“What?”

I turned to where my hand had landed. It seemed like an ordinary section of wall with the same repeating rectangular pattern…

No. No, it’s not repeating!

Standing up straight for a better look, I realized that the sculpted patterns were actually thin rectangular structures that made up the surface of the room’s walls, minus the floor, ceiling, and the wall containing the entry gate. Although attached to the walls, the pieces were mobile and could be slid across the surface.

“What is this, some kind of control panel? A lock, maybe?”

I took my hands off the pieces since I didn’t know what would happen if I changed their layout, and turned to the wall opposite the entry door. It looked identical to the other two; square with parallel and perpendicular lines which occasionally resembled-

“My God! It’s the square diagram from the tunnel!”

It was the marked scribbles that I’d seen earlier inside that low tunnel. The wall was almost a perfect recreation, except some of the pieces were off. Some of them were twisted the wrong way or placed on other parts of the maze.

Wow, I can…remember that etching perfectly. Wish I could remember literally anything else too.

Something roared in the tunnel behind me. I sure as hell wasn’t going back out now. But perhaps, I could go further in.

“Are you sure you wanna be messing with that?”

“Got no other choice.”

All right. This piece went the other way, I thought as I twisted one of the components on the wall to resemble the maze back in the tunnel.

This thing…gotta slide it over here. This part resembled an “H” … And these three pieces were interlocked.

“Don’t forget the section in the left middle, the one that looked like a 2.”

“Oh right, right.”

I slid those pieces and stood back. Nothing happened.

“…Hmm.”

“You sure you got the whole thing right?”

“I…it looks exactly the same!

Damn! I really thought I had it.”

“What about the northeast corner?”

I looked up. The northeast corner was fine-

“Ugh. I missed the part that looks like a 1337.”

“‘Exactly the same,’ was it?”

“Shut up.”

I reached up to organize the last corner.

3. 3… 7.

All the components at once sank into the wall as light gleamed between their gaps, and with a deep rumbling the entire wall slid back and slowly rose to reveal a previously hidden space.

“Ohh…OHH.”

The gate opened into a vast chamber that stretched much wider and taller than any other I’d seen within the maze. The chamber was lined with towering statues depicting some race of thin gaunt beings; these had long snake-like abdomens instead of legs, and a peculiar pair of tentacles at their sides that branched into many smaller arms, each with what looked like hands. Their faces were strange but nothing horrific. In fact, all of the statues were sculpted to appear dressed in gowns, these adorned with symbols and other glyphs. But this wasn’t what horrified me.

The whole chamber was littered with the bodies of these beings, each about the size of a person, entire multitudes covering almost every available inch of floor.

“Good Lord in Heaven.”

They were all dead. Even though the statues depicted them as slender creatures, their corpses were dreadfully emaciated and difficult to look at, their eye sockets gaping and their dry skin stretched over their bones. This skin was a nauseating shade of deep purple, although the occasional hues of blue and green hinted they might have been more vivid in life. There were the remains of clothing, tools, and other implements on their bodies and vicinities, and as I looked back at the statues I realized their true nature.

“These…these aren’t demons. They were…”

“Aliens?”

“People. They were a people like us. Maybe not human but, this was a civilization. This was their home. Somehow this whole place, whatever it was, got sucked into Hell whole. With them still in it.”

Colonel Johnson painfully sighed.

“Rest their souls, the poor bastards.”

There were children here too.

I figured they were children, due to their smaller stature and simpler features. In contrast to the grown-ups’ complex branching arms, those of the children were plain with few or no branches, but they still held on to their parents with what few hands they had.

I stopped.

There were three bodies huddled together: two adults and one child. The child cowered against the body of one parent while the other parent held the two within its arms, still trying to shield them with its body and with as many hands it could.

I stared at the sorry sight for a time before I could feel something rising inside me.

Nausea? Horror? No…ANGER.

I was furious. Furious that I was in Hell. Furious that I was trapped in a maze. Furious that an intelligent species, one of who-knows-how-many, fell to this world and their citizens perished with nothing they could do about it, their people still trying to save their children from oblivion.

I clenched my fists, ignoring the pain and the sparking produced.

“-hn! JOHN!”

I sharply gasped.

”Leave it. There’s nothing you can do for them now.”

I heavily sighed. The Colonel was right.

“ROOOOAAAAHHHH!”

Oh yeah, I’m furious at that thing too. Whatever it is.

“What the hell is that?”

“What?” I turned around but noticed immediately what the Colonel meant.

“THAT.”

It was an eyeball. A freakish glowing eyeball in the middle of the chamber floating atop a small pedestal, which I could swear had not been there when I entered the room. It was a strange thing a glassy orb the size of a billiard ball with a bright red outside and an intense blue iris, and a faint red shining through the pupil. The eye had a sort of ghostly nature and was somewhat hard to see.

And it was watching me.

I circled around it and the eye tracked my movement. I stopped and turned in the opposite direction, and the eye followed. Whatever it was, this blurry artifact creeped me the hell out.

“I don’t trust that thing one bit, soldier.”

“Neither do I. But I want to know what it is.”

The eyeball began to shine brighter.

“You’re not actually suggesting you’re going to touch that, are you?!”

“It’s either this or that big thing out there.”

“John! Do you not see all these dead bodies surrounding the VERY OBVIOUS OBJECT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM? Take a wild guess what happened to them!”

“These beings likely died from unshielded exposure to Hell’s reality, something that clearly hasn’t happened to me yet. Whatever that thing is, I can handle it.”

“John, listen to me! You are not invincible! You’re not an unstoppable killing machine, you’re a walking bag of technical problems! A highly experimental, highly unstable and virtually untested combat unit that shouldn’t even have been activated, much less still be alive.

Do you even know where you are, soldier? You’re in Hell! The most dangerous and unpredictable place known to mankind! Do you know what the UAC has documented in their expeditions here?

Beasts that suck your brains out through your nostrils, tar pools that trap you and gradually roast you alive, living crystals that envelop you and keep you alive in never-ending agony! One of the workers that trespassed a safety field was witnessed to be constantly dismembered and regenerated by an unseen force over and over again until they finally abandoned him! You seriously can’t expect to pick up every single thing that grabs your attention and acquire a shiny new power every single time!”

“You’re right, sir,” I said while walking over to the orb, electricity crackling on its surface. “The one stuck here in Hell is me. So the one that ultimately calls the shots is me, no?”

“STOP RIGHT THERE, SOLDIER! YOU ARE DEFYING A DIRECT ORDER FROM YOUR SUPERIOR COMMANDING OFFICER!”

The light from the eyeball was almost blinding.

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t give a damn.”

I stretched my hand out and touched the eyeball.

The spell broke as soon as I came into contact with the artifact, washing me in a wave of terror when I realized it had drawn me in without me even knowing. My vision flickered as my being was thrown through different levels of reality, each one more abstract and less real than the last.

I came to a lurching halt and saw a multitude before me, stoic and impassive in their ageless wait and with minds as strange and alien as their bodies.

They were not like me. They did not recognize me.

The third eyes on their foreheads opened. Bright, glaring things with gazes as cold and piercing as steel, and everything went white.

I opened my eyes to find myself on the floor of the chamber, now empty. The eyeball and bodies were nowhere to be seen.

I coughed in exhaustion.

“Soldier? Are you all right?”

“…Wow. Yeah, I think I am.”

My sight was altered, though. I remained in the same chamber but everything appeared dim and ghostly, as if submerged deep underwater.

“My vision’s screwed but I’m all good.”

I put my hand forward to pick myself up.

I couldn’t see my hand.

I blinked in an attempt to clear my eyes. No, I could see my hand, it appeared translucent and almost invisible, as if made of incredibly clear glass. I turned to the rest of my body. It had the same quality.

“Colonel, you’re getting this, right?”

“Amazing. This is way beyond any cloaking tech I’ve ever seen. Your radiant and reflected energy levels are almost zero! Visible light, infrared, UV, radio, Argent, you name it! They’re practically nothing!”

“Wait, so I’m actually invisible? This is not just X-ray vision?”

“Negative, almost all environmental energy really is passing through you! How…why…? What are these readings I’m getting?

…Disassociation. You’ve become partially disassociated from Hell’s physical reality!”

“What do you mean? Like, phase shifting?”

“Yes! Phase shifting!”

“Not even the Elite Guards back at the Base had access to combat-grade phase shift tech.”

“This might not be an intentional design. It might be a side effect of whatever else that thing did to you. I’m going to run some diagnostics and -”

“Wait, wait. I feel it’s wearing off.”

In a sudden flash, I snapped back to reality and my normal vision returned. I checked to make sure I was in one piece. My chest, my legs, my arms. My hands, with the sharp prongs of the Hemokinetic Module on one palm and a red-and-blue eyeball on the other.

“AAAAAAHHHHHH!!”

The eyeball was on my hand! Embedded in my right hand and staring right at me!

“GET OFF GET OFF GET OFF!!”

In my alarm I channeled some of my mana into my hand. The eye shone and I flashed back into partial disassociation.

The eye…the eye is making me phase shift. Wha- How- Why?

I breathed heavily as I waited for the effect to wear off, which occurred again after a few moments. I grimaced before looking at my right hand, still desperately wishing that what I’d seen was just a hallucination from my rattled brain.

“Uhhh?” I cracked one eye open. The eyeball was still there.

“Ohhh....”

“Is it a bad moment to say ‘I told you so’?”

I spun my hand around. The eye was visible from both sides and kept its gaze on me as I moved it around.

“That’s it.” I pulled the bronze dagger from my waist and raised it above my clenched arm. “I’m cutting the whole damn thing off!”

“WOAH WOAH WOAH STOP!”

I forcefully gripped the knife and brought it down towards my other arm, but I stopped before the blade even touched me. Not out of indecision or because of Colonel Johnson’s insistence, but because the artifact was speaking to me.

“Huh?’

…

“Soldier?”

…

“John, what’s wrong?”

“The eyeball, sir. It’s whispering. I can hear it in my head. It’s talking to me.”

“What’s it saying?”

I could feel a distinct presence acting on my mind, nudging me with thoughts and feelings not entirely my own. Fear, sorrow, loneliness, anger. If it spoke with words and definite language, I could not understand them, but I received vague sensations, feelings, and ideas that revealed its intent.

“Those beings that lived here, they died when their world was absorbed into Hell. Their bodies perished but they somehow managed to… preserve their souls within that orb, that…blur artifact.”

They say that the survivors who tried to escape were killed, killed by a monster that hunted them all down.”

A fleeting image of the creature flashed across my mind. Pinkish-grey skin oozing with slime, with sinew and blood vessels throbbing on the surface. I grimaced.

“It’s the monster. The big monster that’s roaming around this place.

They want revenge. Revenge against the creature that trapped them here and killed their people off.

They’ll lend me their strength. They want to help me.”

The Colonel said nothing. I continued to stare at the eye while ignoring the shivers it gave me, returning the same curious gaze with which it studied me. Strange and alien, but curious nonetheless.

“How do we know we can trust it?”

The eye stared at me for a moment before emitting a peculiar glow.

“Uhhh!”

I winced as a piercing sensation suddenly fell upon my head, not excruciating but a nonetheless uncomfortable feeling accompanied by a shrill whistling noise.

As soon as it appeared the sensation vanished, and my mind felt somehow different, a bit more proper. As if a detached wire had been plugged in or a faulty component fixed. I opened my eyes.

Floating in my visual field were a series of bright digital diagrams like those of a heads-up display. There were three vertical bars in my lower left field of view – blue, red, and green – besides the rough outline of a person.

“Wait. Wait, I know that! That’s a physical integrity display like those on the mechs back at Mars!

Ha ha! That’s me, isn’t it?” I asked the alien eyeball. “That’s my physical integrity!”

The eyeball made a sudden bobbing motion, almost as if it were nodding.

“Ha ha! I thought my augmentations would include some type of heads-up display! Didn’t know why it wasn’t working!

That blue bar must be my overshield, and the red one should be my actual chassis. But what’s the green one?”

There was a small icon besides the green bar, what appeared to be a flaming skull.

“That’s my…that’s my Skullfire spell! That’s my current spell!”

I switched to Flame Wave and the icon changed to a wall of fire. I released the spell into the room and the green bar went down as my Argent energy reserves were used.

“That’s my mana reserves! Sick!”

I was ecstatic that I could finally track my resources instead of gauging them blindly. I turned to the display on my lower right, a set of five orange horizontal bars besides the icon of a machine gun. Curiously, the last two bars appeared darker than the other three.

“That’s my current weapon and ammo pools, but why are the last two bars darker…

The empty weapon modules! I can still add two more weapon systems to my platforms, that’s why!

And what’s this thing?”

The last display was on my upper left field, a circle with a bright center point that produced spreading waves. It reminded me of-

“Radar! That’s my radar device! Or…what is it, Colonel? A motion tracker?”

“Your chassis does include a short-range radar system that tracks nearby movement and maps the local environmental structure, yes.”

“Ha ha! Now we’re cooking with gas!

What do you think, Colonel? Should we keep this thing or not?”

Colonel Johnson remained silent for a moment before finally sighing.

“Your call, soldier.”

I clenched my fists, and the eye gleamed with anticipation.

“Let’s do this.”

* * *

“Taylor, why the hell aren’t we moving?!”

Rogers’ harsh shouting snapped Ruby back to her senses.

“We’ve got a problem here! Our navigation systems are being jammed! We can’t launch!”

“WHAT?”

The Lieutenant loudly trampled over to the shuttle cabin.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE CAN’T LAUNCH?”

Rogers’ gaze drifted to the error message on the dashboard, standing in stunned silence for several seconds before he managed to respond.

“WHAT THE HELL’S THE MEANING OF THIS?”

“The air control network’s offline and the shuttle’s nav computer is down-”

“ARE YOU SAYING WE’RE STUCK HERE, IS THAT IT?”

Romero stepped into the cabin.

“What’s going on here?”

“WE CAN’T LAUNCH! WE’RE GROUNDED! WE’RE STUCK HERE WITH THOSE THINGS HUNTING US DOWN AND OUR THUMBS UP OUR ASSES!”

An anxious Reeves was drawn in by the commotion.

“Is it true?! We can’t fly?!”

Ruby sighed in exasperation and brought her face down to her hands as her racing thoughts drowned out the raucous sounds of discussion.

If the Base-wide flight network was down there was nothing they could do about it. They might be able to get the shuttle’s computer back online for manual control but only if they removed the source of interference, the foreign signal which jammed its navigation systems.

Which originated in the Lazarus Labs. The source of this entire disaster and without a doubt the most infested sector in the entire planet. They’d be dead long before they even set foot in the Labs.

They’d even left their helmets back at the lab entrance, only Ruby still wore her own. ‘Leave them,’ she said when the demons arrived as they prepared to stretch their legs. It wouldn’t have been a problem had they taken off for the Spaceport, docked with an escape ship and taken off, but that was no longer possible. Their only hope of escape was to head into the heart of enemy territory. Without helmets.

Harrison was dead. She’d seen their dark magic on his legs before he perished; it had passed through his armor and crippled his ability to run.

They exploited his arthritis. Induced it, amplified it. They used it to kill him.

She recalled how her pulse rifle had failed to fire right before his death. She’d dismissed the incident as the clip running empty and there being no time to reload, but curious she brought her firearm over for closer examination.

Ruby’s heart sank when she discovered the clip was not only half full, but that the pulse rifle’s shell was already engraved with several fiery symbols. There were only a few but the corruption would surely spread and get worse. If that incident had simply been a misfire, before long the rifle would become useless, or worse, a hazard to Ruby herself.

No. No, this can’t be happening.

All of them were potential points of failure. Reeves had pulmonary fibrosis, Romero had heart and problems, Rogers was a walking powder keg, and Ruby’s entire capacity depended on a flimsy piece of metal and plastic embedded in her brain that was just short of expired. She could feel her focus waning by the second, her mind filling with static like a glass with boiling water.

The team’s equipment was failing. Their bodies were failing, and judging by the deranged shouts behind her, their minds were starting to as well. If they didn’t figure something out, it wouldn’t matter if the demons found them or not, because they’d already be dead regardless.

She had no idea what to do.

“Agent! Agent!”

It was Romero.

“You need to get a word out. Send a message to your command and get immediate evac on our position. Say what you have to, anything it takes! It’s the only way we make it out in time.”

Ruby sighed in defeat as she rested her face on her hand.

“There is no evac,” she quietly muttered.

Romero opened his mouth to respond but abruptly stopped.

“T-there…,” Reeves struggled to enunciate. “T-there is no-”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE IS NO EVAC?”

Ruby had had enough of Rogers’ attitude. She slammed her hand on the dashboard and stormed up from her chair to reply with a tone as cold and sharp as ice.

“I MEAN THERE IS NO ONE COMING TO GET US BECAUSE THERE IS NO ONE OUT THERE. EVERY HUMAN BEING THAT COULD HAVE HELPED US IS EITHER ONE OF THOSE THINGS OR DEAD.

THE ONLY ONES LEFT ARE VEGA AND THAT BASTARD HAYDEN, WHO WILL UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES ALLOW US TO LEAVE THIS PLANET.

WE ARE, IN EVERY POSSIBLE SENSE, ON OUR OWN.”

* * *

HERE LIES THE FINAL RESTING PLACE OF THE HELLWALKER, THE WARRIOR KHAN, THE SCOURGE OF HELL

KILLER OF GODS, SLAYER OF TITANS

THE ONE KNOWN AS THE DOOM SLAYER

HE LIES IN THE HEART OF THE BLACK PYRAMID BEYOND, VICTIM TO THE BLACK SACRIFICE THAT SUNDERED COUNTLESS KINGDOMS AND UNTOLD LEGIONS TO CONTAIN HIS INSATIABLE RAGE

MAY THE COST OF SUCH TERRIBLE SACRIFICE BE NOT IN VAIN

MAY SUCH FEARSOME POWER NEVER BE RELEASED

MAY THE DOOM SLAYER NEVER WAKE AGAIN

The Slayer keenly whistled.

That explained a few things.

He stood on a massive artificial construct floating among the dark mountains, its smooth black metallic surface etched with bright green symbols and fissures. Most obvious on the structure was the Slayer’s very own Mark, occupying the greater part of its face and veritably pulsating with the accumulated fear and dread of countless demons.

He frowned and lowered himself to the surface, placing his hand on the glowing Mark with curiosity. The manipulation of psychic energies wasn’t his specialty, but fear was a powerful tool and one that he knew better than to disregard.

He drew the psychic energies accumulated on the construct into his hand, focusing them into a single coherent nexus. The energies congealed and solidified, taking the form of a smooth black totem in the Slayer’s hand, engraved with his own blazing Mark.

NEW BOOST SYNTHESIZED – SLAYER IDOL

FILL MINDS AND HEARTS OF DEMONS WITH BLINDING TERROR

EFFECTS EXPIRE AFTER ONE MINUTE

FABRICATION COST – 7 CALIBRATION CYCLES

The physical manifestation of demons’ fear given form.

Besides the palpable terror imprinted on the marker, the Slayer could again make out the faint whispers of human conversation. He put the totem away into his Suit’s storage and widened his senses once more to make out the impressions of the human travelers.

It was Hayden and the two red guards, who’d landed on the great construct. The cyborg was closely inspecting the inscribed metallic surface while one of the guards tended to their companion, kneeled over in apparent pain. Suddenly, the healthy guard looked up and raced towards Hayden.

“Dr. Hayden! The continuum generators have failed and the camp’s metaphysical integrity has been lost! It’s gone, sir!”

“…The protective runes weren’t properly applied. Our time is running out.”

“What do we do now, sir?”

“Complete the mission. We abandon the camp, head to the tomb. We’ll set up the portal device there.

And leave him,” Hayden gestured towards the dying soldier as he climbed back onto the ship. “He’s useless now.”

“Sir.”

The images faded as the Slayer returned his focus to the now and to the remains of the deceased guard resting on the black metal, now little more than a charcoal-like mass melted onto the marker.

He squinted. There was a small scarlet halo spinning above the chest of the fallen guard. Walking over to it, he discovered it to be a protective sigil surrounding some sort of data chip which had been mounted within the guard’s chestplate. The chip was intact. The Slayer kneeled down and pulled the chip out from what remained of the guard, which trailed ash and a thick viscous substance.

So the red UAC guards had been to Hell, the Slayer mused as he dusted off the chip. They existed in low numbers, supervised a Hell expedition, carried unidentified weaponry, and even answered directly to Hayden, so presumably they were significant figures in Mars’ chain of command.

Sixty-one thousand people dead. A company didn’t get sixty-one thousand workers on a freezing poisonous death planet if they knew they could die at the hands of demons. And sure enough, there hadn’t been indications that the workers knew the true nature of what was happening on Mars, even if they were aware of strange occurrences. He was sure an excuse of “unexplained crossdimensional phenomena” must have placated most inquisitive minds. Shit, he himself had heard that excuse since before Phobos! Back when the UAC first claimed jurisdictional authority over Mars and its moons.

Hayden said the Mars Base provided energy for Earth, which he’d seen via the Argent Tower. The “Altar” to their “Faith.”

Opening the gates of Hell with the key to the future!

Hmmm. The Argent Tower was clearly a critical resource in the UAC’s energy process regardless, which wouldn’t be operated by average workers but special personnel. The “faithful advocates.” Advocates…who were taught about the demons? Recruited for classified experiments? Brought to Hell on manned expeditions? Whatever this faith was, few must have known it existed, with fewer still a part of it.

This Lazarus Project must have been the primary hub for the UAC’s Hell-related research on Mars. Directed by Olivia Pierce, overseen by Samuel Hayden. Without a doubt a highly classified and confidential division into which very few would be granted access, and the red guards were clearly a crucial part of it. The Slayer turned to the data chip in his hand. It resembled a key.

He casually raised an eyebrow and moved the chip into the Praetor Suit’s storage.

All things considered, the Slayer thought as he stood up, it was tremendously astounding that falling into the Martian Fracture had dropped him so close to the precise location in Hell he’d been entombed in. It was even more impressive that the UAC managed to find him, let alone successfully extract him. And Hayden even survived the trip! They could have never carried out this operation with twenty-second century man-made technology alone. The UAC must have come into possession of certainly powerful artifacts.

Someone must be watching over him.

The Slayer coolly dismissed the naive thought to bring up his automap. The display showed the great shadow of a Blood Storm drifting towards the Pyramid, with the Basilisks and other local beasts moving to avoid its path. Meanwhile, the Parasite Moons continued mindlessly drifting through their feeding grounds.

He aloofly scoffed. Blood Storm, Blood Knights, Blood Keep, blood this, blood that. No thanks to Abaddon, the most aggressive Elder God and the dominant power across the Shores of Hell. Devoted to war, senseless slaughter, and the spillage of blood. It was his warriors who most frequently breached into the mortal universe, and he was one of the few beings the Slayer had a personal animosity with.

Not that the other four were much better. He despised the filth which Beelzebub produced and his spawn spread everywhere, and just thinking about Mæphisto gave him a headache. Thankfully, the Slayer could tolerate the much more restrained reaches of the last three.

Except for her.

His pulse surged as he recalled her. Penetrating eyes, ensnaring black claws, pearly white fangs, and tender red lacerated flesh. Throbbing with desire, dripping with sin.

The Slayer scowled in disgust.

One day…one day he’d crush the hearts of the Elder Gods and watch the light fade from their eyes.

He turned his attention to the red icons situated around his position as displayed on the automap. A pack of dark and pyroimps would soon pass by the marker as they fled the Blood Storm. A non-concern. A nest of Hellions were also emerging from their nests in the sector’s planetary shards, long and savage demons that reminded him of centipedes.

If centipedes could reach upwards of four meters in length. Ugh.

Bugs were revolting but nothing he couldn’t deal with. Three mancubi slowly but surely closing in.

The Slayer raised an eyebrow.

Mancubi were big but he’d fought bigger. Nevertheless, he began calculating an optimal route he could use to cross the unstable environment.

And a swarm of adult Basilisks headed straight for him.

…Now that might be a problem.

The Slayer switched off the automap and equipped his assault rifle. He’d much rather take a long hot shower in the corrosive rain of a Blood Storm than have to deal with Basilisks, particularly in his currently weakened state. If he moved quickly, perhaps he could lose them in the storm.

But how would he cross it? The Praetor Suit and even his body could resist most of Hell’s destructive metaphysics but Blood Storms were immensely powerful. He’d never make it through unprotected before it killed him, and with a horde hot on his heels he wasn’t going to wait for it to pass. The only reasonable solution he could think of was…ugh. Not going to be pleasant.

He leapt off the marker and soared towards the next dark mountain floating in the sanguine sky, with harsh shrieks echoing behind him. Landing on the shattered landmass, the Slayer broke into a full-blown sprint as the imps arrived at his position. BANG! BANG! BANG! He opened fire but rushed past them without stopping, cleaving a path through their ranks and swerving around their fireballs as he headed for the next edge.

Something was about to emerge from the ground right as his feet. The Slayer charged a Blood Punch and swerved at the last possible second, dodging the leaping attack of viciously clawed Hellion as it emerged from the rocky soil and eviscerating it with the focused blow. POWW! He raced towards the edge of the mountain while strafing to avoid the leaping attacks of a dozen more Hellions and jumped off.

“ROAH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH!”

The Slayer spun around to find the serrated shape of an adult Basilisk, six hundred meters of scale and teeth, slithering through the sky towards him at full speed, its semi-physical body segments appearing and disappearing in sequential fashion as it warped across Hell’s reality. Its great maw, lined with row after row of black spiked teeth and flanked by massive mandibles, was wide open and reaching for him. Crimson bolts of arcane lightning crackled within its throat.

Firing his jump pack at full capacity to force himself out of the beast’s path, The Slayer equipped his rocket launcher as fast as he could and shot a rocket into the Basilisk’s open mouth before remotely detonating it. BOOM!! The rocket exploded against its jaw, too weak to do any real damage but the Basilisk faltered and broke off its attack, changing trajectory away from the Slayer. He sped away from the veering monster but one of its great mandibles struck him as it swerved, throwing him into the next continental shard and bringing his ARMOR down to 27.

Furious, the Slayer landed on the next landmass and continued running as soon as he hit the ground. The Basilisks would circle around, try to catch him by surprise around the edge or perhaps even tunnel through the mountain right beneath him, swimming through the solid rock as easily as a shark through water. He needed to keep moving if he wanted to avoid-

“ROOARR-WAAHH!”

A Mancubus.

The Slayer swerved at breakneck speed before he entered the festering territory of the hulking demon, a grotesque seven-meter-tall monstrosity and the greater Hellspawn of Beelzebub which aimed its arm cannons at him and unleashed a wave of flaming bile, filling the skies with noxious gas and reducing the chasing packs of imps to dark sludge on the Hellscape. He equipped his plasma rifle and opened fire at the giant beast as he ran to put distance between him and it. ZAP ZAP ZAP ZAP ZAP ZAP ZAP! The few plasmoids that hit did little damage to the demon’s thick armor. Only its small cycloptic head and grotesquely engorged, scarred stomach were left exposed. The Slayer leapt off towards the next mountain and glanced at the Mancubus as it opened a summoning circle from which two cacodemons drifted out. At once these turned towards the Slayer and began barraging his position with lightning strikes as the Mancubus launched flaming orbs, fast as missiles, which exploded in his wake and ate away at the very mountain with caustic bile. With little room to maneuver between the decaying mountain and further incoming fireballs, the Slayer willed a command unto the Hellscape and produced a stone barrier to block the Mancubus’s attacks. The barrier blocked the fireballs and began melting away beneath the vile putrefaction, but the Slayer was already on the move.

Leaping into the open air, he switched to his new D12 chaingun and aimed the barrel. He put his hand on the handle, feeling the whirr of the motor for the briefest moment before pulling the trigger.

RATATATATATATAT!!

The sound was a cacophony of thunder, each round a fiery bolt of lightning that roared across the landscape and brought down the Slayer’s vengeance onto the vile creatures of Hell.

Thirty-millimeter, tungsten-forged, uranium-coated vengeance.

In another person’s hands, such rounds could take down an aircraft or puncture an armored vehicle.

In the Slayer hands, these rounds passed through the hides of Cacodemons and the thick armor of the Mancubus, shredding their internal organs and eviscerating the Cacos into moist blue meat as the Mancubus raised its arm cannons in a futile attempt to shield itself.

“ROOARR-WAAHH!”

He got distracted.

He neglected his surroundings and failed to notice the second Mancubus taking aim at him until it was too late. Its repugnant rockets soared through the sanguine sky and exploded against the Slayer.

0 ARMOR, 143 HEALTH.

FILTHY BAG OF FESTERING SHIT!!

The Slayer switched to his rocket launcher in fury and blasted round after round at the culprit demon, jumping off the mountain and towards the Mancubus to improve his aim. BOOM!! BOOM!! BOOM!!

He was just wasting ammo. Rockets were too slow for such a distance and even their blasts missed the monster.

“ROAH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH!”

Another Basilisk charged at the Slayer and he moved out of the way of its mandibles, switching to and firing the chaingun to force the beast off its attack.

“ROOARR-WAAHH!”

He’d entered the putrid Hellscape surrounding the third and final Mancubus. He quickly equipped the autoshotgun and opened fire as the bile ate through his HEALTH, only narrowly avoided a stream of short-range but viciously caustic vomit from the demon as he sped away. A series of bright blue flashes from the corner of his eyes indicated the two new Mancubi had just summoned Cacos of their own.

A dark blot in the distance drew his attention. The snaking trickles of black rivers seeping into the Sanctum, like capillary tubes in tissue, as the Blood Storm encroached upon the region, lightning flashing across its deathly rains.

The situation was not faring well for the Slayer. He was unequipped to confront three mancubi on top of a Basilisk pack and the fractured environment was difficult to simply navigate.

Only one thing left to do.

He changed direction towards the nearest Mancubus while keeping an eye on an approaching Basilisk.

If there was a dirty trick the Slayer learned in the countless eons spent in Hell, it was that if he was outgunned, outnumbered, and outmatched…

The Mancubus aimed its arm cannons at the charging Slayer as the Basilisk opened its colossal maw.

…HE COULD ALWAYS MAKE THE DEMONS KILL EACH OTHER INSTEAD!

Taking care to avoid the bubbling pools of caustic offal in the demon’s vicinity, the Slayer raised his hand and launched a stun bomb at the monster, which struck and forced the creature into spasms of electrified agony. He jumped and clambered onto the demon’s shoulders before the stun wore off and forced his hand between the armored plates at the back of its neck, grabbing hold of the creature’s thick spinal cord. With simple but focused psionic commands, he forced the Mancubus to ignore him and raise its cannons to the charging Basilisk. The gargantuan beast obeyed and launched a wave of burning bile directly into the Basilisk’s open mouth. The serpentine monster broke off with a pained roar, its mouth and sides blazing with sickly yellow flames as the Mancubus’s filth ate through its shell.

Determined to get as much use as possible out of the Mancubus before it broke free of his psychic command, the Slayer turned it towards the rest of the demonic multitude. Another swell of flaming bile melted away imps and Cacodemons as even the mountain rotted away with putrescent decay. In his last moments of command, the Slayer forced the Mancubus to launch its missiles at its brethren. He caught the brief glimpse of the fireballs striking their two targets and the furious roar of the Mancubi before he leapt off his mount and rushed away through a bog of bile.

127 HEALTH.

Mancubi could resist the corrosive bile from their kin or themselves, but they were not invulnerable to any demonic attack and the three Mancubi were now inescapably infighting, and the injured Basilisk would coordinate with its pack to attack them as well. This diversion would give the Slayer enough time to complete his other reluctant goal: get the Basilisks to fight each other.

He turned his gaze to the nearest Basilisk, a monstrous beast snaking through the sky with its pack trying to get close to the Mancubi which rained all sorts of corrosive attacks on them. Their very bodies snaked through invisible planes of Hell’s reality, segments phasing and unphasing in sequential manner and leaving the caustic bile behind. This allowed them to control the limits of their injuries but also meant the Slayer couldn’t keep his grip if he aimed for the body.

If he wanted to grab a hold of a Basilisk, he thought as he eyed a trajectory and leapt off the Hellscape, he needed to go for the head!

He landed on his mark and dug his hands into one of the massive horns fringing the beast’s head. The bewildered beast violently shook and spun into the sky trying to shake him off, but the Slayer’s grip was like iron, and in its craze the Basilisk inadvertently struck a packmate with a mandible.

“ROAH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH!”

The offended beast reared around and slashed at his Basilisk with its great jaw, sending great chunks of shell and bloody tissue flying. The Slayer took the chance to jump off amidst the rain of organic debris before he got caught in the Basilisks’ brawl. He was headed straight for the Mancubi but noticed all three were heavily injured from their altercation, their exterior armor almost entirely eroded and their entrails festering in great steaming pools.

He grabbed one of the pieces of shell closest to him – a thick scale as large as him with viciously sharp edges – and flung it at the nearest Mancubi like a Hellish frisbee before equipping his chaingun. The scale struck the Mancubus on the shoulder and passed through shell and bone with no resistance, slicing the entire arm clean off. The monster roared in fury before the Slayer brought down a hail of incendiary armor-piercing rounds upon it. RATATATATATAT!! In a matter of moments the Mancubus exploded in a swell of shell, blood, and fire, its volatile entrails catching fire and blanketing the area in flaming fluids.

One down but the Slayer had twelve bullets left and there were still two Mancubi standing, now keenly tracking him with raised arms and fuming eyes. Best make them count!

Sticking the landing on the landmass, he switched to the HAR and stared down the tactical scope, charging a precision bolt and aiming for the armored plate on the second Mancubus’s chest. He did his best to avoid the blazing pools of bile from the first Mancubus, but his vision was limited as he lined up his shot and his HEALTH ticked down to 94. He locked his target and pulled the trigger. POW! The Mancubus unleashed a fresh wave of bile and he swerved hard to dodge it, and the shot strayed far into the nothing.

DAMN IT!

“ROOARR-WAAHH!”

The Slayer was drawing close to the Mancubus. He had six bullets left, enough for one more precision bolt. He raised the rifle again, aimed for the chest plate, and fired. POW! The shot hit and the Mancubus recoiled from the impact, its chest plate shattering to reveal a revolting beating heart covered with cysts and pustules.

His objective completed, the Slayer leapt at the Mancubus to close the distance as he brandished his chainsaw, swinging the blade across its scarred flabby stomach and setting loose a wave of blood, guts, and other unpleasant viscera upon himself. The Slayer grimaced in bitter revulsion, but the Praetor Suit turned the deluge of entrails into a deluge of munitions. Full bullets, plasma, and rockets.

The act of mutilation had cost only one of the chainsaw’s three batteries, clearly not enough to kill the Mancubus as it roared in deafening agony, but the Slayer had not intended it to in order to save the chainsaw. As the demon buckled in pain, the Slayer climbed onto it to reach into its gaping chest cavity, rip out its heart and shove it down its open mouth. The Mancubus groaned in tormented bewilderment before bursting in a blast of organs. 15 ARMOR, 113 HEALTH. The Slayer was covered in a fresh wave of steaming entrails but not before he grabbed one of the Mancubus’s arm cannons.

He promptly aimed the severed cannon towards the last remaining Mancubus and manually triggered it, blasting a swelling wave of flaming bile onto the demon. The Mancubus groaned as the bile ate through armor and flesh, melting them into thick blubbery sludge, but attacks of its own nature wouldn’t be as effective against it as they would be against other demons. The Slayer launched a fireball, and one after another, but Mancubi were tough and the Slayer’s stolen cannon was out of juice. He tossed the useless arm away as he glanced at the thundering black clouds rolling across the sky. The Blood Storm was almost on him. He was running out of time.

He turned to the Basilisk pack tearing themselves apart in the sanguine sky and grimaced as he raised a middle finger in their direction.

The nearest Basilisk roared in aggravation and broke off from the frenzy towards the Slayer. He eyed the beast as he strafed around the fireballs from the Mancubus. He only had one shot. He turned and Rampaged straight for the hulking demon.

The Basilisk opened its maw in a charging attack and the Mancubus shot a missile right at the Slayer.

Wait…wait…NOW!

The Slayer raised his Bracer at the last possible moment and cleanly caught the missile in his hand, immediately throwing it at the Basilisk. The fireball struck its side and the Basilisk roared as it switched target, turning away from the Slayer and towards the Mancubus which it thought had attacked. The Mancubus gazed upwards in briefest confusion before the Basilisk crashed into the mountain and swallowed the demon whole, with the Slayer firmly clenched to its mandible.

The Slayer clung to the back of the horn as the Basilisk burrowed through the landmass before crashing through the other surface. Half the sky was now beneath the black shadow and crimson lightning of the Blood Storm, which thundered and rained heavily against the Slayer’s body and senses, the flashes piercing through his eyes and the rain wearing down his ARMOR.

Even though a Basilisk’s shell had limited resistance against Blood Storms, they couldn’t navigate them. But the Slayer could with his automap. If he stole a bit of this Basilisk’s shell now, he could leap off it and lose it in the Storm. He forced his hands beneath one of the massive scales, positioned himself to get a stable footing, and pried it off with a rough heave.

“ROAH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH!”

With both hands gripping the scale the Slayer was thrown off as the beast threshed in fury. He firmly clenched the scale and raised it to shield himself from the deadly rain.

“ROAH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH!”

The Slayer turned to find a colossal and very indignant Basilisk charging for him, its mandibles open and crackling with malevolent hunger.

Oh shit.

“ROAH AH AH-”

“ROOOOOOAAAAAAHHHHHH!”

Another Basilisk charged through the darkness and bit clean through the first one, striking at the base of the neck and severing its head from the rest of the body. The body segments sputtered in and out of physical being before finally solidifying and detaching in death, and the arcane energy in the Basilisk’s maw faded away until it was as dark as the Storm surrounding it. The second Basilisk let out one last echoing howl before slithering away into the distance.

The Slayer let out the sigh he hadn’t even realized he was holding in.

He brought up his automap one last time to check for enemies. All clear, and he studied the Blood Storm’s density between him and the Black Pyramid. There were a few pockets of lower density he could traverse to limit his exposure.

107 HEALTH. He would need every last bit of it.

All of Hell probably knew already of the Slayer’s presence and whereabouts. He’d be lucky if he didn’t find a welcome party at the Pyramid. Or worse, if the UAC’s portal device at the tomb was sabotaged before he arrived. He had to hurry while the Storm was still in the sector.

He kept the automap display up, for his normal vision was useless in the Storm and he didn’t want to draw attention with his Clearsight. He manipulated the nearby disjointed landmasses into a more traversable landscape and, after adjusting his grip on the Basilisk scale to better shield himself from the Storm, set off towards the Pyramid.

* * *

I stepped before the gate that led from the hidden chambers and out into the rest of the maze. I focused some of my mana into the strange eyeball embedded in my hand and phase shifted just as the door slid open.

My vision immediately became dim and blurry as the effect turned active, but I could still perceive the rough surfaces of the walls and corners. I checked my new radar display for any sign of movement. Nothing.

“Coast is clear.”

I hurried along at a brisk pace, anxious to get out of this godforsaken place but careful not to make too much noise. I imagined the many masses dropping from the walls onto the puddles could hide the sound of my footsteps, but I still felt uncertain to wager my life on it. Not that I could hear them.

My hearing. It gets muted too.

I could still hear some sounds but these too became greatly muffled while the phase shift was active, so I looked down to make sure I didn’t walk across the puddles. I was very clearly stepping on the shallow pools that stretched across the hallways, but I wasn’t making any splashes or ripples.

Huh. Must be phasing through the liquid.

I picked up the pace to exploit the few seconds I had of my newfound power before the effect wore off.

“Uh,” I grunted as I phased back to normal reality and loudly splashed on a puddle.

“You’re almost there, keep going.”

“Should I keep phasing till I get there?”

“Well, this effect does consume a bit of your Argent energy reserves each time you use it. Your energy regenerates but…I’d suggest you save it for your spells.”

“If we get there sooner, I won’t need them,” I replied while triggering the phase shift again and rushing down the hall.

“Okay, here. Turn left.”

I followed the Colonel’s direction and turned into a corridor indistinguishable from any other. I followed that hallway before skidding to a halt before one of the adjacent walls.

It was transparent.

”Colonel, why is this wall transparent?”

Even with my senses greatly dulled with the phase shift, I could tell that I was effectively seeing through the wall in front of me, very clearly able to see the shape and outline of the room behind it. There was a stack of short cylindrical barrels on one side of the room, filled with some dark oily fluid that seemed to shimmer in my phased state.

What the hell is that?

“Err…transparent? Seriously?

I’m taking some scans here…it’s a rock wall, same composition and density as all the others around you. It’s relatively thin but nothing special besides that.”

Something harrowingly bellowed in the distance. It was the monster, howling in the direction of the chamber I’d come out of.

“Get a move on, soldier,” the Colonel urged quietly. I did as instructed.

“Keep going. Make a right after the next two junctions.”

I ran along as I followed the Colonel’s escape route, taking note of more clear walls in my phased state to contrast from the other dark and opaque surfaces.

Some of the walls appear clear but not others…they appear clear when I’m phasing…Why? What does that mean? Thin walls, thin walls. Is that somehow relevant?

“John, your phase shift is about to give out.”

“I’ll just hit it again!”

I focused mana into the blur artifact once more before the effect wore off, and the surge of power from the artifact signaled that the phase shift was restarted. Just as I contemplated that I could retrigger the effect while it was still active, I turned the indicated corner and beheld a group of bright ethereal shapes scattered throughout the corridor. I opened fire with my machine guns out of reflex and to my surprise the rounds exploded against the nearest of the creatures and ripped it to shreds. The group turned in my direction and moved on the offensive.

I can even attack while in phase shift!

I pulled and activated my spear to preserve the last of my mana and charged.

I dashed through the group; shooting, slashing, and stabbing at the ghostly figures while avoiding the slime globs and fireballs they spat, although it was evident that they were shooting blindly. They couldn’t see me while my phase shift was active.

Wait a moment…these are the same creatures from earlier! This is how they appear while I’m in phase shift!

I thrust my spear into the heart of one beast and forced it up to split its head, dashed to the side to avoid an incoming slime ball while slashing at another creature and cutting its head off, before leaping into the air and bringing the spear down on another to slice it in half, all while keenly shooting down the many flying critters swarming around me.

“ROOOOAAAAHHHH!”

I immediately faltered as my blood ran cold. Glancing at my radar, I could see a large white dot moving fast in my direction. The other creatures I’d been fighting scampered off towards the shadows as they heard the monster approaching.

“GET OUT OF THERE! RUN!”

I collapsed my spear and hung it on my side as I bolted through the hall at full speed, listening to the thunderous splashes echo in the distance.

I had enough mana remaining for one more phase shift. I needed to save it in case bad turned to worse.

“Straight! Keep going straight!”

Will the invisibility work on the big critter? Oh God, I don’t know, I don’t know…

“ROOOOAAAAHHHH!”

Something entered the corridor directly behind me and roared. I turned to spot something huge and pale in the distance.

“OH SHIT.”

“ROOOOAAAAHHHH!”

I raced down the hall as fast as I could.

“FASTER! MOVE FASTER, SOLDIER!”

The thing continued to give chase. I could hear the echoing splashes its footsteps get closer as I pushed my body to its limit. It was too fast, far faster than me.

“JOHN! THAT THING’S RIGHT ON YOUR ASS!”

Something struck me again, a glob of mucus that stuck me to the ground just as I heard something leap.

“JOOOHN!”

I immediately triggered the phase shift and dropped to the ground at the last possible moment, freeing myself as I phased through my restraints.

The thing was barely visible through the visual distortions of the phase shift but I could still behold its size, as long and wide as a bus. It had a multitude of gangly limbs with no clear symmetry or reason all over its body, and many soft fleshy masses hanging everywhere throughout its skin.

It was then that I realized the implications of the pinkish slimy skin I had previously glimpsed.

Oh God…it’s inside-out…the whole thing is inside-out!

The beast landed in front of me as it completed its leaping trajectory, faintly growling as it passed through the space it thought I would be in. I switched to my missile launchers and opened fire on where I presumed its head was, hearing its muffled agonized roars and seeing splatters of bright red blood before scrambling to my feet and racing down the corridor.

“WAIT WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“I AM GETTING THE HELL OUT!”

“THE EXIT IS IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION!”

I ignored the Colonel’s orders and kept running, desperate to put as much space between me and the monster while my phase shift was still active. I heard a faint snarling behind me before the creature continued its chase. Though its chase sounded much slower, as though it couldn’t quite track my movements.

It can’t see me…it can’t fully see me while I’m phasing…

“Turn right! Turn here to get back on the right route!”

The wall, the clear wall in front of me.

I passed by the turn the Colonel told me to take.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!”

The eyeball was whispering to me. The wall, behind the wall.

“It’s a leap of faith!”

“IT’S A DEAD END!”

There were no other junctions in the hallway I was running down. Nothing but a solid rock wall in front of me and a monstrous beast behind me. The wall appeared clear in my phase shift, revealing a small room with dark barrels behind it. I had seconds left on my phase shift.

Jump. I had to jump.

“JOHN!”

“AAAHHH!!”

I jumped and phased through the solid rock wall in the blink of an eye just as the phase shift wore off. Something large crashed heavily against the other side of the rock wall, shaking the ground and stirring up dust from the wall.

“ROOOOAAAAHHHH!”

I panted heavily as my heart felt like beating out of my chest.

“Incredible…I thought the walls were too dense for you to phase through!

They’re thin, that’s why! The clear walls are thin enough to let you quantum tunnel through with the phase shift!”

At that moment I couldn’t give half a rat’s ass for the physical mechanics of phase shifting. I had just brushed with certain death again after God-knows-how-many-times and was struggling to retain my composure. Both my mind and body were exhausted beyond belief and I was almost at my breaking point.

“I’m never going to get out of here with that thing out there,” I frustratedly blurted out while staring at the stack of dark barrels in the corner.

“We’ll figure something out. Maybe lead it to the other side of the maze and phase through the walls while running like hell?”

“My energy doesn’t recharge quickly enough to get me through this whole place in one run!”

“Of course, of course…”

“All right!” I shouted while angrily standing up. “What the hell is in these barrels?!”

I walked over to the corner and the stack of barrels, worn and rusted containers marked with dents and splotches of some black fluid. I rubbed my fingers across one of the stains on top of a barrel, carrying away a thick tar-like substance that sheened like oil.

“What is that.”

The alien eye on my hand whispered the answer.

“Fuel. Fuel for the original inhabitants’ machines.”

“Fuel? What kind of fuel?”

“…Explosive fuel.”

“ROOOOAAAAHHHH!”

The thing roared from the other side of the wall, and an idea formed in my head.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“You’re crazy.”

“Haha! Maybe I am!” I hysterically replied while lifting one of the barrels to assess its weight. It was lighter than I expected.

“I’m stuck in Hell in a cyborg body, shooting magic shit at actual demons while trying not to get eaten by a huge monster wearing its guts like Christmas decorations! YOU BET YOUR ASS I’M CRAZY!”

I stooped down and lifted a second barrel onto my shoulder.

“And you know what? That’s okay! We’re gonna have some fun! BARRELS O’ FUN!

Come on, Colonel! Let’s blow this thing SKY HIGH, BABY! WOO!”

“John, you can’t be serious! You don’t even know if this’ll kill it!”

“If it bleeds…I can kill it.”

* * *

The Slayer braced himself against the fury of the Blood Storm, straining to keep his footing under the raging tempest and the sky-splitting flashes of crimson lightning.

He had yet to reach the Black Pyramid and was focused on lessening his exposure to the thundering Storm, his HEALTH already reduced from 107 to 62 even with the Basilisk scale shield.

Though the Storm seemed to be passing over. The heavy rains on the Slayer’s shield waned as the thundering rains slowly ceased. He’d entered a low-density pocket in the Blood Storm, and he lowered his shield to survey the situation.

The sky was changing from midnight black to a deep bloodshot color, with the wall of pure darkness that was the Storm receding behind him. The ground was marked with ember scars from the rain, and even the once-smooth Basilisk scale he held was likewise cracked and heavily eroded. It might not last all the way to the Pyramid.

The Slayer raised his gaze to the dark stone structures on the distance, a landmark he’d noticed on his route to the Pyramid. They were stout rectangular temples and angular towers, their surfaces inscribed with ancient runes and crackling with crimson energy. Clearly long desolated and heavily weathered by the Sanctum’s instability, no doubt one of the many victims of the hellish Sacrifice to imprison the Slayer. He headed in that direction.

“Ooooooohhh!”

A low and almost imperceptible roaring echoed from the distance. A Parasite Moon loomed in the sky above him, and he took a few moments to regard it.

It was a colossal entity measuring well into the hundreds of kilometers in diameter, its segmented rocky shell open to reveal the soft flesh interior. Massive tentacles, eye stalks, and other organs extended for many kilometers as it reached for nearby landmasses from countless shattered planets, which it would drag and feed on with the many teeth and mouths that adorned its grotesque red body.

As he was, the Slayer had nowhere near the adequate equipment or strength to take on a Parasite Moon, but he knew they’d rather feast on the remains from other demonic powers than confront him as well, and he had recovered enough power to resist its remote effects. The Parasite Moon continued to passively feed on the continent-sized world shards, and the Slayer lowered his gaze as he entered the threshold of the abandoned temple.

He brought up his automap to search for any viable resources within the towers, even though he knew they were probably barren. Anything of value would have been lost or stolen long ago. There were a few natural deposits of raw Argent energy, which the Slayer absorbed to raise his HEALTH to 82.

There was something though, a curious signal originating from the exterior of a nearby edifice.

The Slayer arrived at the signal location to find the corpse of an ancient human warrior, dressed in an enchanted set of wicked black armor, lying dead against the wall of the Hellish temple. There was a sword of similar make still clenched within the warrior’s hands, and a single pale arrow lodged in the warrior’s knee. A Dragonbone arrow and a complete set of Daedric armor.

The sword was completely useless to the Slayer, but Daedric armor was tough enough to reinforce the worn Basilisk scale with for the remaining trip to the Black Pyramid. He bent down and got to work.

“So, the rumors were true. The Doom Slayer has indeed returned.”

That voice. The Slayer lifted his gaze from the Basilisk shield and turned to the figure behind him.

On the short exterior wall circling the temple sat a person, a young Caucasian man with sharp angled features, short black hair, and strange tattoos covering his body from the neck down. He wore dress clothes with a black tie and an unbuttoned black jacket, and in his hand he carried a half-smoked cigarette.

The Exorcist.

The Slayer turned away and resumed reinforcing his Basilisk shield. He had his differences with the man but he was little more than a nuisance. He separated a piece of Daedric plating from the deceased warrior and, with some basic spell-weaving, forged it onto the shield.

“Those in my profession hear a great many things, from a great many voices, but when I heard the news, I just had to come and see for myself.

The great Doom Slayer himself. In the flesh.

The Bane of the Fallen Hosts.

Vanquisher of the Heresiarchs, Deposer of the Nameless One.”

The Slayer ignored the Exorcist’s hollow praise. Despite the man’s somewhat youthful appearance, his face betrayed a great weariness, and his hushed voice had the rough edge of a heavy smoker.

The man took a long draw from his cigarette, held it for a moment, and blew it out.

“Then again, you never were one for subtlety. You arrive here and the first thing you do is demolish a scavenger fortress? Let all of Hell know precisely where you are. Heh. What were you thinking?”

The Exorcist quietly laughed, and the Slayer stopped his work to give the man a reproachful glare. Just because the Slayer wouldn’t kill him didn’t mean he wouldn’t break both his legs.

The man’s laughter quickly turned to sharp gasping coughing, and he brought his hand up to cover his mouth. It came away covered in blood. The Slayer briefly stared at it before turning to break another piece off the Daedric armor.

“Don’t mind me, I’m hardly one to talk. People like us, we’re addicted to our self-destruction.” The Exorcist pulled out a white handkerchief to clean himself. “I suppose that’s the one thing you and I have in common. We stand on the ashes we make and throw more fuel for the fires. Like moths to a flame, headed to our own annihilation.

Indifferent. Oblivious. Passive. A perfect circle.”

The Exorcist said nothing for a moment. He slowly brought the cigarette up to his mouth and drew from it before blowing the smoke out, his face full of disgust. The Slayer continued reinforcing his shield.

“Why do you think so many hunters that come here end up turning? You can kill every demon that crosses your path, tell the Elder Gods to piss off, outrun the devil himself, but the only demons you can’t…rip and tear, are your own.”

The Basilisk shield was halfway finished. On top of the corroded brown scale sat sharp black plates of Daedric plating. Shoddy work but it’d be enough to get the Slayer to the Black Pyramid.

A new sound of low rumbling suddenly echoed from the sky. The Slayer turned to the source of the noise to find a black ship arriving through a Hell-rift above the towers. Almost a kilometer in length, with a spearblade shape and a featureless rocky hull.

A Drow ship. What were these boot-licking butchers doing in the Blood Keep?

“Relax,” said the Exorcist as he noticed the Slayer’s tense posture while lowering himself beside the low perimeter wall. “They’re not here for you. They’ve been running a number of search expeditions throughout the Shores some time before you showed up. I think they’re looking for a missing shipment. Maybe one of their specimens that got away.”

Hmm.

The ship hovered near the mountainside, projecting a translucent cyan search-beam through the towers.

A single scout vessel, with limited battle capacity, deep in an abandoned region of Hell. The Exorcist was right, it was likely just a search mission, mandated by whatever masters the Drow served now. Besides, the low-density pocket on his position wouldn’t last forever. He had to finish the shield before the Blood Storm returned.

The ship held its position but moved its search-beam through the towers. The Exorcist remained silent while cupping a hand over his cigarette, no doubt concealing his presence to keep out of the vessel’s sights. The Slayer separated another piece of Daedric plating and forged it onto the shield.

“EEEOOOHHH?”

The search-beam landed and froze on the Slayer, instantly changing from cyan to red. He stopped his work and keenly looked over his shoulder at the vessel.

“EEE EEE EEE EEE!!”

The ship turned off its search-beam and immediately began rising into the Hellish sky, emanating a shrill alarm as its dimensional engines prepared to open another rift.

Just as he thought.

Something fell from the bottom of the vessel, a strobing point of golden light that slowly floated down to the ground beside the temple. Curious, the Slayer put the Basilisk shield down and walked over to where the object landed.

It was a cube, roughly a meter in length, made of a brass-like metal and with the relief of a human skull on each of its sides. Peering over the cube’s unfolding top, he reached in and pulled out the largest of the three objects inside.

In his hand, the Slayer held a large golden revolver, stranger than any other he’d ever seen. It seemed made from solid gold, with smooth edges, purple hieroglyphs along the grip, and six glowing green chambers circling the cylinder. He turned to the rising Drow ship, almost entirely obscured in a rippling Hell-rift. He stared at it a while longer before it disappeared with a sharp clap of thunder, and ingressed the strange revolver into his weapon matrix.

BLAZING SPIRIT ACQUIRED

MUNITION TYPE – SOULS

PRIMARY FIRE – SHOOTS HITSCAN CONCUSSIVE BLAST

SECONDARY FIRE – SHOOTS REMAINING ROUNDS IN CYLINDER FOR LARGER BLAST

NOTE: BLASTS ARE SOUL-BASED; PASS THROUGH ARMOR BUT POSE RISK OF SELF-DAMAGE AT CLOSE RANGE

A soul weapon. Powerful, though it operated solely with mortal souls, which tended to be capricious. That and such weapons were largely useless against anything other than true demons, but that was hardly a concern.

Lowering the revolver and moving it into the Praetor Suit’s storage, the Slayer turned to the next of the two objects in the cube, a runestone made from black gnarled claws.

RUNE ACQUIRED – DARK CLAW

BERSERK CURSES BLOOD, CASTING TORTURED ESSENCE FROM DEMONIC FLESH

Dark Claw. A deplorable spell that did horrible things to the bodies of demons. Speaking of which, if he fought mindfully he could go Berserk for the inevitable confrontation at the Black Pyramid. Focusing on his applied runes, the Slayer disengaged Lethal Force and equipped Dark Claw, feeling their respective symbols fade and flash in his mind.

There was one more object inside the Drow cube. The Slayer reached in and pulled out a dull metallic sphere the size of his hand. It was forged from fellsteel in the shape of an eye, and behind the razorlike iris shone a malicious red glare.

NEW BOOST SYNTHESIZED – IRON SIGHT

VASTLY AMPLIFIES TACTICAL ACUMEN

ALL SHOTS AND PROJECTILES WILL FIND THEIR MARK

FABRICATION COST – 6 CALIBRATION CYCLES

The Slayer moved the final offering into the Suit’s storage and made his way back to the abandoned tower. He knelt down beside the Basilisk shield and continued reinforcing it.

“You’ve been gone a long time, Slayer. Too long. Much has changed in your absence.

Gods are born and die, races created and sacrificed. Entire planes of existence and laws of reality, rewritten like…words on paper.

The Fallen Hosts now venture beyond the edge of the Abyss. The Heresiarchs direct their servants across the Mortal and Immortal Realms, waging war against Creation and among themselves. The Prime Barrier holds but it won’t last forever.

And of course, our old friend.

No rest for the wicked, I suppose.”

No rest for the wicked.

The Slayer thought back to the mysterious Cyber Paladin he’d encountered at the top of the Argent Tower. There was no chance that demon was from the UAC, something from this side had sent it to make sure Olivia Pierce breached the Martian Fracture. But who? What god or demon lord commanded the invasion of a worthless dustball in some remote region of the Mortal Realm?

It didn’t matter. There was nothing the Slayer could do at the moment about the powers that swayed the course of reality, or sought to prey on minuscule planets as inconsequential as specks of dust on the winds of the Aether. All he could do now was finish his shield, get to the Black Pyramid, and get the hell back to Mars.

Thunder echoed across the horizon. The Blood Storm was coming back.

No, it was too soon. He wasn’t done yet!

The Slayer sped up his forging as the Exorcist slyly grinned.

“I suppose this is where you and I part ways.

This is the part where I’d usually give you a profound piece of advice, a line or two to make you reflect on this…twisted game we call life, make you look both ways before you cross the road, or who knows. Maybe just to make myself sound wiser.

Although there’s probably not much I could tell you that you didn’t already know. Not that you would listen.”

The Slayer hurriedly broke off a final piece of Daedric armor and applied it onto the last exposed part of the Basilisk shield. The Exorcist stood up while pulling his sleeves back.

“So when you get back to Mars or wherever you’re going, don’t forget to write a postcard, you hear?

And if you’re ever by LA, do stop by. It’s always beautiful down in the City of Angels.

Hell, I’ll even buy you a drink.”

Crimson lightning flashed out of the corner of the Slayer’s eyes as the world was again enveloped in shadow. He had moments before the Storm hit.

“Hey buddy…”

What now?

The Slayer turned to face the Exorcist, his tie and jacket billowing against the backdrop of the looming Storm.

“…Got a light?” The man held out his cigarette, whole and unburned, and flicked it at the Slayer.

An indignant Slayer completed his shield and raised his combat shotgun square at the Exorcist’s face, but the man had already produced from his empty hand a glass ampoule filled with water, which he smashed on the ground at his feet before vanishing in a burst of light. The Slayer had just enough time to watch the buckshot pass through empty space, and he raised his shield as the raging might of the Blood Storm descended upon him.

He hated that prick.

* * *

A thick and tense silence fell over the shuttle cabin as Ruby’s revelation came to light. Reeves raised her hand to her mouth in horror, Romero heavily backed down, but Rogers stood frozen in perplexed fury.

“…You knew.” He finally growled through gritted teeth.

Ruby sighed. She was hoping she wouldn’t have had to tell them, even though the need would probably arise.

But not like this.

“You knew.” A vein in Rogers’ temple began to throb as his face turned red.

Ah crap.

“YOU KNEW!” He yelled as he lunged at Ruby, throwing her back onto the dashboard and punching at her helmet, prompting Romero to attempt to pull him off. Ruby’s guard suit and helmet absorbed the bulk of the soldier’s blows, although she was momentarily stunned by the sudden attack.

“YOU TOLD US THAT OUR FORCES WERE COMPROMISED! THAT COMMAND HAD ORGANIZED EVAC AT THE SPACEPORT! BUT YOU LIED! YOU KNEW ALL ALONG! YOU LIED TO ALL OF US JUST TO SAVE YOUR OWN SKIN!”

“CALM DOWN, ROGERS!” Romero roared at the raging lieutenant.

“AND YOU! YOU’VE TAKEN TAYLOR’S SIDE FROM THE VERY BEGINNING! DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS TOO? WERE THE TWO OF YOU CONSPIRING TO GET THE REST OF US KILLED?”

Rogers turned away from Ruby to punch at the gunslinger’s exposed face, knocking him back. Something finally clicked within Ruby and she sprung into action. Taking advantage of her combat training and her Elite suit’s enhanced servos, she pushed the lieutenant off and lifted herself from the dashboard. Rogers threw another blow but she quickly blocked it, kicked the back of his knee to bring him down, and struck his cheek with a single right hook, forceful enough to stop him but not so much to cause damage. Rogers immediately seized his aggression and blinked in disorientation.

“Stand down, soldier,” she hissed with deadly intent as her hand began to throb.

Rogers turned to face her with murder in his eyes while panting heavily. He brought his gloved hand up to his struck cheek, glancing at the faint bloodstain on the white plating.

Grinning, he nodded in defeat and started to laugh.

“We’re all going to die…we’re all going to die. We followed you because you’re an Elite Guard! Because we thought you had a plan! That you knew what you were doing and were going to get us out! But you never were! You never did!”

Ruby took her foot off the lieutenant’s knee, but he remained snickering on the ground.

“Why don’t you just pull your gun out and shoot me right here? Hell, shoot all of us right now, get it over with! I’m sure it’s a far better end than whatever’s out there waiting for us.”

Ruby turned away in disgust and reached her hand out for Romero, still on the floor with a bleeding nose. The gunslinger took it and she helped him to his feet.

“You okay?” She asked him.

The gunslinger did not reply as he wiped his nose. He only pursed his lips and nodded, the disappointment all too clear in his eyes. His look injured Ruby far more than any of Rogers’ blows.

“Agent, there’s something out there.”

Reeves pointed towards the shuttle’s windshield, at the sinister red glow visible in the hangar floor. Something was casting a gleam from above the clear ceiling. Ruby rushed over to the dashboard and look up through the wide pilot viewglass, immediately wishing she hadn’t.

There were deep crimson stormclouds spreading across the Martian night sky, crackling with arcane energy and turmoiling with hellish ferocity. Ruby could spot dark figures and demonic sigils flashing through the gloom.

What the hell, what the hell is that?

Reeves and Romero followed her into the cabin and likewise bore witness to the infernal horror spreading across the planet’s atmosphere. A sudden burst of static brought her attention down to the dashboard.

The shuttle’s screens were flashing with strange symbols and imagery, causing the other two to uncertainly back away. There were pentagrams, runes, feeds from throughout the Mars Base, all glitching with static as an unknown force hacked the system. Ruby tapped the screens, the buttons, anything to prompt some sort of response. Nothing.

A face suddenly appeared on the main panel, the heinous horned face of a Summoner-class demon lord. Ruby’s eyes widened. The demon stood perfectly still within the glitching scarlet image, seemingly staring through the screen directly at Ruby.

No, not seemingly. It IS looking right at me. The damned thing can see me.

A chill ran down Ruby’s spine as she felt the cold merciless gaze of the demon lord on her, feeling its evil presence as real and close as if it were right in front of her.

The other two primary screens on either side of the dashboard settled on two similar images. The second screen, colored a dull grey, revealed a different demon lord whose head unnaturally jerked around as a low growling voice emanated from the speakers, and the third purple-tinged screen depicted an empty room, no doubt containing a third hidden demon lord.

Ruby stared petrified at the dreadful scene before the images of all three Summoners suddenly leapt at the screens with a harsh roar, causing her to leap and shield her face in terror, and the shuttle went dark. Ruby slowly brought her arms down to look at the dashboard.

The middle screen which had held the image of the red demon lord was cracked, as if something had attempted to break through it.

Ruby resolutely grabbed her pulse rifle and headed out the shuttle.

“We have to keep moving. We’re sitting ducks out here in the open. Our only chance of survival now is to head to the labs’ lower decks-”

Ruby stopped when she realized Reeves and Romero weren’t following her. She spun to look back at the shuttle, from where the two were watching her leave.

“Are you two staying here?”

Neither one of them replied, and Ruby didn’t have the time or willpower to argue. If the others wanted to stay and die, she wasn’t going to try to convince them otherwise. She’d just as well continue on her own.

“Have it your way,” she finished indifferently before turning to leave.

“Taylor! Wait!” Romero called out to her.

Ruby stopped as the gunslinger walked up to her, bearing a stern expression.

“I’m coming with.”

“As am I!” Reeves called out as she ran up to them. “You’re not leaving me here, damn it. You promised you’d get me home.”

Ruby sighed in relief. “I did. And I will.”

“What’s the plan? Without our helmets, we sure as hell can’t go back outside.”

“As a Level 3 installation, Helix has a restricted array of teleporters in the lower decks that high-priority individuals, such as Elite Guards, can use for quick and covert transportation to secured facilities across the Mars Base. We get to them, configure them to beam us to Lazarus, and take out the foreign signal that’s interfering with the flight network. Once that’s done we come back here, fly the shuttle to the Spaceport, and hopefully find a ship that can get us the hell off this planet.”

“Can’t we teleport directly to the Spaceport?”

“Negative. The teleporter arrays that link these key facilities are a closed network, which does not include the Spaceport. Resists interference but makes them incompatible with common teleporters that link the rest of the Base, which we’ve seen are already compromised.”

“Is this our only option?” Romero gravely inquired.

Ruby hesitated before answering.

Our only other hope would be that the Doom Marine returned, wiped out all the demons on the planet including the three Summoners, and carried us off into the sunset atop a white unicorn. But he’s gone now, and even if he magically came back, I don’t think even he could take down all three.

But the team didn’t need to know about him, at least not anymore.

“Truthfully, yes. It’s the only chance we have.”

The gunslinger held his hand toward the exit.

“After you, Agent.”

Ruby prepared to leave but remembered Rogers was still in the shuttle.

“Wait, hold on a moment.”

Climbing into the shuttle, Ruby walked over to Rogers, who was hunching over in the pilot’s seat.

“Lieutena…Rogers, listen to me. There’s a chance we can make it out of here. We’re heading down to the lower decks, take a teleporter to the Lazarus Labs so we can shut down the foreign signal and fly this shuttle.

I shouldn’t have lied to you, and if you want my blood after this is over, you can have it. But we need you if we’re going to make it, and you’re not gonna last long on your own either.”

Rogers remained silent a moment before responding.

“‘No one gets left behind.’ Heh. Spoken like a true soldier.”

Ruby thought back to Colonel Johnson and that night on Europa, how he chose to come back and save his platoon.

No, Johnson was a true soldier. I’m just doing what he would have done.

Johnson would never have led civilians to their deaths.

What the-! No! No! Where did that come from? Crap, they’ve really gotten to me. Come on, Taylor! Get a hold of yourself!

Forcing herself to clear her mind, she thought Rogers would choose to stay and die before he dejectedly got to his feet.

“I’m coming, but I’m not doing it for you or for that mercenary. I’m doing it for Reeves. I’m doing it for that girl who died back at the hospital. And I’m doing it for the doc.”

Ruby’s heart panged as she remembered the young technician, mauled to death by imps. She’d completely forgotten about her.

“That poor woman. I never even learned her name.”

“Neither did we. She didn’t talk much.”

“Then live. Make it back to Earth and let her be remembered. Let Christopher be remembered.”

“Then we settle this. Between you and me.”

“Fair enough.”

“One more thing.”

The lieutenant’s expression turned troubled, and Ruby leaned in with concern.

“…We’ve been lucky so far, but if I start to turn…promise you’ll shoot. I don’t want to become one of those fucking things.”

Ruby nodded in understanding.

“I promise.”

Rogers stood at attention and held his HAR at the ready.

“First Lieutenant Mark Rogers, reporting for duty.”

Ruby returned the salute.

“On the double, soldier.”

The lieutenant hurried out the shuttle to rejoin the team, and Ruby was about to follow when a sudden ache flared up in her hand.

“Ahh, what the f…”

She pulled her suit’s glove off and felt her stomach drop.

A grisly corruption had manifested in the last two fingers of her right hand. Her ring finger was a mottled purple color, but her pinkie was completely black with dry cracked skin. She tried moving them. The ring finger felt tender but the other was cold and numb, and its fingernail was bleeding. She softly touched it.

The fingernail came dislodged from its bed and hung lopsided on the bleeding skin before falling to the shuttle floor with a soft clatter. Ruby gagged as her heartbeat raced.

“Taylor, what’s the holdup?” Rogers called from outside. “We’re all waiting for you!”

“C-coming!”

Ruby desperately put her glove back on as she hastened out the shuttle.

It’s just an infection, don’t worry. There’s medicine, there’s medicine for this. And I can always get a new hand printed.

But deep down she knew that Hell had already snared its long malignant claws around her.

If I turn before you, Rogers, promise me you’ll shoot.

* * *

“Whew! Okay, that’s the last one!”

I dropped the last pair of barrels onto the stack I’d made in one of the maze’s rooms. The entrance was wide enough to grant the monster access, and the chamber was large enough to let me run past the stack towards the thin wall on the other side.

“This is a crazy plan, John. Only a madman would seriously consider this.”

“Good. Because only a madman could make it work.”

“John, listen to yourself! You’re going to use yourself as bait to lure the beast into this room, shoot the barrels and blow it up as you phase through the wall? This is some Wile E Coyote bullshit!

You’re a soldier, for crying out loud! Act like a soldier! Think this through carefully and tactically!”

“If things made sense here, Colonel, it wouldn’t be called Hell. Gotta fight hellfire with hellfire. Ha! That’s a Catch-22, isn’t it?”

Something blipped on my radar. There were two faint dots at the edge of the display. The first moved down the maze towards me, but the second wobbled back and forth.

That’s my cue.

Guns loaded, mana charged, spear ready, full health and shields.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“I don’t. I think this is gonna be fun.”

“Wait, the second bogey’s gone.”

The Colonel was right. The second dot which had moved in my direction stopped and disappeared, but the first kept swaying in place.

“Probably one of those smaller critters spooked by the big thing, fled to its nest or whatever.

Come on. Let’s catch ourselves a big one.”

I set off in the direction of the monster, occasionally glancing at my radar to check for other movement. So far so good.

Thanks to my previous memorization of the labyrinth’s layout, I had deduced a route that would lead the monster to the booby-trapped room while giving me enough time to get to safety.

Hopefully.

I stopped at an intersection about halfway to the monster, as far as I was willing to go.

“Now what?”

“We make some noise,” I replied before loudly shooting a barrage of missiles at the rocky walls, hearing the blasts echo through the halls.

“YOU HEAR THAT, YOU BIG BASTARD? THAT’S THE DINNER BELL! DINNER IS SERVED! COME AND GET IT!”

I switched to machine guns and let loose a storm of explosive rounds, wildly spinning in all directions.

“WHAT’S THE MATTER, DID I HURT YOU? DO MY GUNS SCARE YOU? DON’T BE AFRAID! COME HERE! HAVE ANOTHER SERVING OF STEAMING HOT LEAD! THERE’S MORE WHERE THAT CAME FROM!”

“Stop. Please just, stop.”

The white dot kept wobbling in place. I equipped my flak cannons and unloaded buckshot on the scarred walls.

“Come on. Come on! Do it! Do it! COME ON! KILL ME! I’M HERE! COME ON! DO IT NOW!”

Nothing. The dot paced in its spot but otherwise did not move. I stopped shooting.

“Something’s wrong. It’s not moving.”

“Will you listen to me now? In this situation a self-respecting soldier would-”

“No, something’s not right. It’s been stalking me this whole time, following just out of my sight to get an idea of how strong I am, and attacking me that one time I gave away my position. But it’s never done this.”

“You think it actually is hurt?”

“…Maybe.”

If it actually was inside-out, then it stood to reason that its exposed innards would make it more vulnerable. It didn’t seem I’d done that much damage for something its size, but there had been blood. Perhaps it wasn’t as tough as it looked.

“Let’s find out.”

I headed in the direction of the white dot, putting away my spear and priming my Flame Wave spell in preparation to deal maximum damage. I walked down the identical corridors and hallways before arriving at the corner behind which lay the pacing dot. I could hear a faint squelching noise around the bend.

I deeply breathed in.

“Okay. Okay. This is it.”

Three, two, one…action.

I leapt around the corner ready to raise hell but froze when I saw the source of the signal.

A mass of corpses from the other creatures that haunted the maze hung from the ceiling by a bright red entrail, held together with thick mucus and swaying to produce the movement my device tracked.

Oh, crap.

“You need to leave…NOW.”

“ROOOOAAAAHHHH!!”

A new brighter dot appeared from the direction I had just come from, blocking off the escape route I had so carefully prepared. The second bogey.

“SHIT!”

I bolted past the decoy as fast as I possibly could, hearing the distant splashing draw closer and closer.

“Colonel! Find me another route back to the trap!”

“Turn left! Turn left here!”

I did as the Colonel ordered and heard the sound of something big smashing through the macabre decoy and all the bodies splashing on the puddles.

“You don’t have enough Argent energy to phase through all the shortcuts in your path!”

“Then I might as well buy some time!”

I turned around and let loose a flame wave behind me, which spread throughout the hall and set even the moist ground on fire.

“BURN, MOTHERFUCKER! BURN!”

A hulking shape turned the corner and roared as the hellish flames engulfed it. A single flame wave likely wouldn’t kill the beast but I wasn’t going to stay and find out.

“There’s a thin wall at your one-o-clock! Go through it!”

I triggered my phase shift and passed through the wall into the adjacent corridor. I glanced at my motion tracker to find the monster running down a nearby hallway.

“Soldier, what are you stopping?”

“That thing’s still running! Why is it running?!”

“Doesn’t matter! You need to fall back! Phase through the next wall in front of you while your shift is still active!”

I raced down the corridor towards the clear wall in front of me. Leaping, I phased through it and landed right in the charging path of the creature.

“WHAT THE-”

The beast pounced and passed through me but I still winced in pain as its jaws clamped shut on the spot my disassociated body was. My overshield instantly broke as the blue bar in my display went dark.

My physical disassociation during shifting wasn’t absolute, and I realized I could still take harm from demonic attacks. The distorted shape of the monster doubled back around and I bolted away from it as my shift wore off.

“You’re going the wrong way!”

“I’m going the right way: AWAY from that thing!”

I fled through the corridors and made a sharp turn to shake the monster off, only to find myself at a dead end.

“The walls are too thick! You can’t phase through them here!”

Something huge and pale turned the corner.

“ROOOOAAAAHHHH!!”

I triggered my phase shift once again and passed through the charging beast while firing incendiary blasts from my flak cannons, but the creature slashed at me as I approached with a long gangly arm. The limb passed through my ghostly form but I still recoiled as I felt my innards violently displaced by the attack. The red bar on my display went down by half.

“AAAHHH!”

“John!”

“I’m alive! I’m still alive!” I yelled to assure myself as much as the Colonel, but I didn’t know for how much longer. One more of those blows and I was surely a goner, even if shifted. I fled away from the monster and phased through the clear wall directly in front of me.

“Yes! Yes! Go that way! Phase through the wall here! You’re on the quickest route back to the trap!”

The beast ran through the halls adjacent to me as it no doubt predicted my movement.

Fine. Let it follow me. I’ve got a dead end of my own waiting for it.

My overshield began to regenerate but I only had enough mana for one more phase shift, the one I would need to avoid getting killed by my own trap.

“The wall on your ten! Phase through it!”

I passed through the wall and returned to the familiar corridor that led straight to the barrel room as my shift wore off. I checked my radar. The beast was close but if I hurried I could beat it to the trap.

“Come on, you piece of shit cyborg legs! Run faster!”

“ROOOOAAAAHHHH!!”

The sound of not-so-distant splashing appeared behind me and I heard galloping footsteps grow louder and louder. I fired my jump pack, desperately dashing forward for every possible boost I could add to my speed.

“ROOOOAAAAHHHH!!”

The roars were only a few meters back, right on my heels. It was going to be close.

I turned back towards the monster for the first time, only barely catching a glimpse of flailing limbs, slimy pale skin, and hanging crimson viscera.

“You’re stupid! And guess what! Now you’re gonna be stupid and dead!”

I passed through the entrance to the room, ran past the stack of explosive barrels, and with a running leap, triggered my last phase shift as I spun around and heard the creature pounce.

Even with the visual distortions it was horrendous to look at. The head was long and snake-like with a drooling toothless mouth, a series of small beady black eyes along the upper edge, and a long gelatinous brain exposed along the forehead. If the creature was in agony by living such an existence, then perhaps I was doing it a favor by putting it out of its misery.

I sincerely hoped not.

I raised both middle fingers at my foe as I launched a single missile at the stack of barrels and phased through the wall.

A deafening explosion ensued which shook the very ground I’d landed on, audible even with my hearing muffled by the phase shift.

“Did we get it?” Asked the Colonel after what seemed forever.

I checked my radar. No movement. Turning back to the booby-trapped room, I noticed that the barrels of shimmering fluid were gone and the room filled with faint smoke, but the ghostly shape of the creature was nowhere to be seen. After waiting a few moments I was certain that the monster was gone as well, and I phased through the wall right before the shift expired.

The walls and ceiling of the chamber were splattered with a dark steaming fluid that ran down in thick rivulets, occasionally pockmarked with small globs of tissue, and the whole floor was littered with large chunks of charred black flesh.

“Who’s the man? I’m the man.”

“Guess that harebrained scheme of yours wasn’t so crazy after all.”

“Oh, it was crazy alright. It was fun, too. Loads of fun.”

I kicked a twisted piece of metal shell away.

“Barrels of it.”

“You think that was enough fun for one day?”

I headed out the room and towards the center of the maze.

“Sure was. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

I strolled leisurely down the once-haunted halls of the labyrinth. The same gross masses continued falling through the walls and splashing on the floor, but I felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from that cursed place. And from myself as well.

Maybe the poor souls of the original inhabitants can finally rest.

I arrived at a sealed gate with a round depression in the center, from which several dark channels spread out across the surface in straight patterns. I got the impression that the eyeball was the key. I held it up to the gate and the channels shone with red and blue energy, lighting up the surface as the door slid up with a heavy thud.

The door opened into a large chamber that was empty except for a strange apparatus operating in the very center, a tall gyroscopic construct consisting of three rings that spun independently around a shimmering fluid core. The rings had lights around the edges which reflected off the silvery liquid, casting an aquatic glow throughout the whole chamber.

“The gateway. This was part of this place’s original architecture. The inhabitants must have created it as a method to achieve faster-than-light travel.”

“But what happened?”

“It worked, only too well. The gateway tore a hole through our universe directly into Hell, causing the consumption of their entire world. Do you remember the Event Horizon?”

“…Yeah, that classified UAC project, way back before Phobos. The company wanted to build the first FTL-capable ship, engineered from those old Martian relics. Vanished from all scopes and q-coms on its maiden voyage, never to be seen again.”

Wow, I remembered all that on my own? My memory must be getting better. I still feel strange; dazed and confused, as if something’s keeping parts of my brain switched off. But I’ll fight it. I’ll remember who I was.

“Rumor has it the Event Horizon actually broke through to Hell. Some folks say that’s why the UAC doesn’t use FTL propulsion despite being the only company with the technology. Which they only use for short-range teleporters and the Martian Hellgates.”

“So every civilization that develops FTL travel, they’re doomed to be invaded by Hell?”

“Hayden thinks so. Even claims that’s the reason behind the extinction of the ancient Martians.

The Hayden Solution to the Fermi Paradox, the bastard calls it.”

“So why haven’t we been invaded ye…”

My voice trailed off as I realized the reason.

“They’ll start from Mars. The invasion will come from Mars. They’ll use it as a stepping-stone to get to Earth!”

“John, what are you talking about? Demons can’t travel through outer space!”

“Our ships! They’ll hijack our docked ships and use them to invade Earth! You gotta warn them!”

“John, relax! There’s countless layers of security in place to prevent or deal with a major demonic breach! One of the first protocols is to lock down the Spaceport and Starport! If bad comes to worse, Central Command can remotely evacuate or self-destruct all UAC vessels and even bring the ARES array online to quarantine the planet!”

I wasn’t having it.

“I gotta get back to Earth. I gotta find my family!

Colonel! Can this gateway get me back home?”

“Uh, wait. Let me scan it.

It’s taken a real beating, soldier. Doesn’t look strong enough to bring you back, but it should be able to transport you to a viable Hellgate. At least, if your new pal upholds their end of the deal.”

I brought the blur artifact up to my face.

“I need your help. My family, my world is in danger. I know I am very different from you, but you too had loved ones, and you know what it’s like to lose all you hold dear. I can’t let that happen. I’ve already lost myself. I can’t lose them too.

Please…Help me go home.”

The red-and-blue eyeball simply stared at me. I could feel no impressions coming from it, and if it had thoughts, I had no idea what they were.

It suddenly looked down, and a sleek terminal emerged from the floor, its surface etched with thin mobile pieces like those over the door to the artifact chamber. I held the eyeball close to the terminal, the pieces lighting up and moving as the artifact manipulated them. The fluid core inside the spinning apparatus suddenly started to whirr, its surface crackling with electricity as the rings spun faster and brighter. I shielded my eyes as the gateway released a thundering blast of energy, then silence. I brought my hands down.

The rings had stopped spinning, floating still within each other in a single luminous circle. The shimmering fluid had become a perfectly still and softly buzzing transparent sphere, through which I could see some strange shadowed Hellscape.

“Will this get me closer to home?”

The eyeball nodded but then relayed a series of impressions that sank my mood.

“John, what’s the matter?”

“They’re not coming. The alien spirits within the artifact, this is as far as they go.”

“Well, why?”

“They only persisted out of hate. Towards Hell, towards themselves for the ambition that got their people killed, towards the monster that hunted them down. But they say that with that thing gone, they can finally have their release. They’ve been waiting too long, and they want their peace.

They thank me. They’ll transfer whatever strength they have left into the artifact, make it a usable relic so I can keep its powers, but from here on I’m on my own.

They wish me luck on my journey, and hope I find what I’m looking for.”

“…Damn.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say. These beings had lent me their strength and all I could do was grant them death.

“If not for you, I never would have survived this place. I honestly don’t know if I’ll make it the rest of the way.”

What do you say to someone about to die? To aliens about to die?

“You granted me this power, fixed me up, gave me a fighting chance. I thank you as well.”

Where will they go? If this is Hell, and they already exist as spirits here, what happens to them? Do they go somewhere else? Reincarnate? Or just simply…vanish?

“Perhaps one day we’ll meet again.”

Fear, sorrow, loneliness, anger, hope. Maybe we’re not so different after all.

“Goodbye.”

Farewell, friend.

The glow emanating from the artifact faded away as the eyeball changed in structure. After a few seconds, it became an inert red-and-blue sphere that cast only the faintest of light, and the presence upon my mind disappeared.

They were gone.

“John. That machine won’t stay stable for long. If you’re going to take the gateway, you better do it now.”

I stood in silence for a moment before responding.

“…Copy that.”

I walked up to the core and stopped just in front of it, raising my hand to touch the surface. My finger passed through with no resistance and was visible from the other side. I pulled my hand back.

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

“No. No, I won’t.”

With a deep breath, I stepped forward and passed through the gateway.

* * *

The Slayer marched on through the Blood Storm. He was almost at the Pyramid and focused on minimizing his exposure to the Storm, his HEALTH already down to 54.

The rains waned as he entered another low-density pocket in the tempest, and raising his eyes over the edge of the shield, he could already spot the irregular monolithic pillars on the mountainous terrain, leading up to the Pyramid where it had shaped the very Hellscape with its dark presence. The pillars were made of the same stony glass as the Pyramid, though far clearer and less opaque; a deceptive medium that Maephisto commonly used for his constructs and which the Slayer fervently loathed. But it was the only way to the Pyramid, so he lowered his shield and pressed on.

He took care not to stare too long into the aggravating images reflected on the surfaces of the crystal pillars, which refracted and distorted all sorts of strange and erratic visions. The Slayer drenched in blood, sweat, and tears as he raced down the Phobos hangar searching for his squadmates. The Dreadnought Colossus looming over the city of Taras Nabad, tearing its way across the Dragontooth Mountains, laying waste to the Argenta planet through all sort of Hellish phenomena and striking down even the greatest of Atlans. The wreckage of a thousand allied starships smoldering amidst the wrecked cathedrals of Argent D’Nur. A young boy crying as his father took away the soldier toy in his hand, not understanding his father’s harsh words or anguished expressions as he explained why playing such games was wrong.

The Slayer paid these memories no mind. They were nothing but ceaseless processions of pain and anger, dulling the Slayer’s focus and bringing his attention away from the now.

Stepping into a clearing amid the crystal pillars, the Slayer stopped as his objective finally came into view.

The Slayer rampaged through the fractal crystal Hellscape of the Naraxian Plains, tearing down the great keystone obelisks and gateway towers as he massacred masses of fleeing demons with a Scalar Wave cannon.

He found his target, a metallic Fallen Host that served as general in Maephisto’s armies and towered above the retreating masses. The Slayer fired his weapon but the blast harmlessly passed through, the demon lord immune to the weapon’s soul disassociation properties, before it retaliated with an incantation that shattered the landscape and seared at his body, only serving to further infuriate him. Racing towards the demon lord, he released the useless weapon and switched to a different arm, a jet-black double-barreled shotgun with gold carvings that visibly radiated power. Recognizing the Retribution, that holiest and most feared of the Slayer’s weapons, the demon lord retreated from the battlefield and to the floating Black Pyramid, a living weaponized fortress that Maephisto had sent to protect the region. The Slayer gave chase and fired his weapon at the Pyramid.

A world-splitting blast of thunder roared across the Hellscape as the shot effectively shattered the construct, buckshot penetrating armor and body to devastate its exterior surface and breach a path towards the demon lord. Without a second thought, the Slayer charged through the debris field and rushed into the Black Pyramid through the crater in its side, blinded by sheer unrelenting rage towards the demons he hunted.

As soon as he stepped into the Pyramid’s threshold, countless unseen machinations sprung to life. The Pyramid manipulated the planes of Hell’s reality to restrain the Slayer inside an infinitely recursive series of miniature universes contained within itself. Grunting in frustration over the sudden trap, the Slayer manifested an arcane silver knife and pierced the elemental cage fallen over him with it, breaching the many universes faster than they could form. But as the Slayer surfaced back to the plane of the Black Pyramid, he bore witness to the true nature of this demonic trap.

The Naraxian Plains and the surrounding regions were falling into a gargantuan vortex of unfathomable power. Citadels, kingdoms, worlds, universes, entire planes of Hell consumed by a growing maelstrom of raw infernal energy, with countless souls, legions, lords, and gods devoured by the tempest. What was happening?

Then he saw them. The shadows of the five Heresiarchs, still imprisoned within Tartarus, manifested upon the Shores of Hell. For the first time since the First Battle, the Slayer witnessed the five Elder Gods of Hell united in effort against a common enemy: him. They were willingly sacrificing the armies and forces of Hell to fuel a spell unlike any other that had ever been seen in the history of Creation. The Slayer could see the brands of containment, corruption, confusion, degradation and torpor fusing into one paramount incantation, combined with a mystical seal that did not originate from Hell.

The Seal of the Celestial Triumvirate.

The Slayer’s fury turned to frenzy as he struggled to liberate himself before the spell fell upon him. He produced strange and powerful weapons from the Praetor Suit, dimensional resonators and god spears and astral voltrides, anything to escape the countless universes the Pyramid tried to keep him in. He fired the Retribution again and again, the shots blasting through numerous event horizons and crippling the Pyramid from within. The construct struggled to contain the destructive power inside as its very structure began to fracture. Desperate, the Slayer began to charge the Retribution’s secondary fire.

But it was too late. The ritual was complete and the Heresiarchs’ spell descended upon the Slayer with the might of a trillion sacrificed souls, forcing him into a collapsing singularity of pure infernal chaos. His visor cracked and the Praetor Suit flashed in malfunction as its systems were impaired by the cataclysmic spell. The link connecting the Retribution to the Praetor Suit’s weapon matrix failed, causing the shotgun to fall out of his hands and be lost to the maelstrom. The ground became the sky and the sky fell upon him. If he could have screamed, he would have.

Then everything went black.

The Black Pyramid of the Kadingir Sanctum, the kilometer-tall prison fortress that had once entombed him for untold eons, with the colossal scars of the long-past battle still on its surface and the sixth UAC ship docked inside. Five sides, five Sigils from the five Elder Gods of Hell. The tomb that had drained his powers and crippled the Praetor Suit. The one sole artifice that ever came close to stopping the Slayer.

But it had not been enough. He had escaped once. And now he would escape again.

“Slayerrr.”

He turned to face the source of the coarse resonant voice behind him and beheld a five meter humanoid figure of dark twisted metal. The Slayer widened his eyes ever so slightly.

The figure took a step to the side and began to circle around him.

“Serve the Authority. Serve the Corrax Alliance. Serve the Ascended Hosts.”

The Slayer dropped the Basilisk shield and circled around the being as well, keenly watching it with a gaze both intense and regretful.

“My people served. We served our Administrators. Served mankind under Corrax. Served the gods that came down from above.”

The figure’s body of once-living metal now writhed in undead turmoil, the biometallic tissues that could shift to produce tools of discovery and creation now produced only weapons. Such a being would have once been magnificent to behold; now it only evoked horror. And in the Slayer’s case, pity.

“And we served you. We followed your command. Carried your banner across countless realms of darkness. Waged your Unholy Crusade.”

The figure’s eyes once would have gleamed with brilliant emotion. Curiosity, wonder, honor, and compassion for the fellow mortals it met across the cold vastness of the universe. Now, they only blazed with war, violence, and vengeance.

“And you abandoned us.

My people put their trust in you, and for that, our worlds burned and the devils massacred us, hunding us down to the edge of the universe.”

The being was a Hellified citizen of the Verimor, a race of sentient cybernetic organisms that the Argenta once met in their voyages across the cosmos, and one of the founding races of Corrax. They were also one of the many victims from the night Argent D’Nur fell, and another sword of guilt piercing the Slayer’s heart.

“You will not save your world. You will not save your people from the damnation that awaits them.”

The Slayer halted. The Verimor were a respected race of the Corrax Alliance and one of the few which the Slayer held in high regard, but this Vindicator had become demonic, and if it stood in his way, he would not hesitate to cut it down.

“You cannot change their Fate, and you cannot change yours,” the demon lowly growled before stopping too. From the shadows behind the surrounding pillars stepped forth a dozen shorter Verimor drones, little more than automated biometallic sentries forming a ring around him and the Vindicator. He cracked his knuckles and held his hands ready at his sides as his adversaries brandished weapons. Zero point disruptors, dark matter blasters, nuclear decoherers, even blades and maces. The Verimor warrior formed a flaming sword and an ion cannon.

“When you arrive to Earth, it will be only to hold the corpse of humanity as it crumbles to dust on the scorched winds, and walk the ruins of your dead world until time itself dies.

Regretting what was. Regretting what could have been.

Forever.”

In the blink of an eye, the Slayer equipped the super shotgun and raised it at the Vindicator, pulling the trigger and throwing it back with the force of the blast, but the Slayer had already turned to his other opponents.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! He swerved and strafed around zero point beams and the disintegrating rays of nuclear force decay while firing burning buckshot at his opponents. Several Verimor drones tried charging up close to quickly finish the Slayer’s reduced health, but he kicked them away and blocked their attacks with his Bracer. One of them swung a mace at him. Parrying the blow and faltering his foe with the reflected energy, the Slayer pulled his arm back and eviscerated the demon with a Blood Punch. 15 ARMOR, 74 HEALTH.

The Slayer couldn’t risk leading his foes to the UAC ship and portal device at the Pyramid, he needed to lead them away. He switched to the rocket launcher and leapt into the air while shooting straight down, catching most of the group in the blast and faltering them as he soared away from the Pyramid.

A series of metallic whirring sounds bought his attention back down. The Verimor had shifted their body structures into flying jet-like forms, closing fast on the Slayer while unleashing a storm of fiery projectiles. The Slayer switched to his chaingun and opened fire as he fell back to the Hellscape. RATATATATATAT!! The hail of bullets tore through the demons’ thick metal armor and utterly destroyed three of them, their bodies shattering into smoking metal debris that rained on the Blood Keep. The first Verimor shifted back to its humanoid form as it fell towards the Slayer and tackled him, catching him by surprise and crashing the two through the forest of dark crystal pillars. The Slayer quickly regained his bearing as the Vindicator swung around to slash at him with its sword, switching to his phase rifle as he dodged the sword swipes but took several ion blasts to the chest. ZAP ZAP ZAP ZAP ZAP ZAP ZAP! PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW! POWW! 62 HEALTH. Dodging and swerving around the Slayer’s attacks, the demon teleported across the battlefield to close the distance to him. He kicked at the Vindicator to force it back and hit it with a heat blast before following up with a left hook. PEW PEW PEW PEW! The other Verimor landed behind him and pressured him with dark matter shots. He switched to the super shotgun and shot the Vindicator in the chest. BOOM! The demon dropped to its knees as luminous red fluid splattered from its devastated torso, but the Slayer strafed away to avoid a dangerously close ray of nuclear decohesion, preventing him from dealing the killing blow. Furious, he grabbed his plasma cutter, took careful aim and fired. POW! One of the Verimor drones winced in anticipation of the shot, which missed and strayed far behind them.

“HARRGH!” It roared in mockery, but the Slayer was already turning to another target.

Hearing a harrowing cracking behind it, the demon turned around just in time to see one of the inclined crystal pillars behind it had been sliced at the base with a plasma cutter shot, which fell onto the demon and immediately crushed it. POW! POW! POW! The Slayer launched a stun bomb and fired other cutter shots at nearby crystal pillars, crushing several Verimor beneath them or leading those who rolled out of the way into blast range of the rocket launcher. BOOM!! BOOM!! BOOM!! Before long, all the demonic Verimor were reduced to scrap metal scattered across the cursed ground of the Kadingir Sanctum.

“RAAARRRGGGHHH!” The Slayer rolled out of the way before the flaming sword fell on him; the Vindicator was still alive. It rushed at the Slayer with Hellfire in its eyes and a body that was falling apart with every attack. He dodged and rolled between the demon’s legs to avoid its slashes and escape its ion blasts.

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO PROTECT US! DELIVER US FROM EVERY EVIL THAT WOULD DO US HARM! YOU WERE THE ONLY THING THAT COULD STAND UP TO THE MIGHT OF THE DARK REALM, AND YOU LEFT US BEHIND!”

He did not! In his many travels, the Slayer once arrived to the Verimor ages before the founding of Argent D’Nur, warning them of the existence of Hell and teaching them how to fight demons, before instructing them to seek the others that would together form the Corrax Alliance!

He had fought with Orinox the Dauntless himself! Stood at his side as he fought to his inevitable death at the siege of Urk-Vitel!

“YOU LEFT US TO DIE!”

The Slayer raised his Bracer before the Vindicator’s unrelenting onslaught and finally faltered it with a parry, the sword shattering as it struck his shielded forearm. Stepping up on his opponent’s knee, the Slayer grabbed the twirling blade out of the air and thrust it through the demon’s head. 86 HEALTH.

He respected Orinox! Always respected the Verimor! He taught them how to save themselves from Hell!

The Vindicator’s eyes flickered and faded to black, coarsely groaning as it fell to its knees and powered down to silence on the wretched Hellscape.

They were better than this! All sentient races across the universe were! They had the freedom to forge their own Fates free from the influence of the divine!

But the being’s words had cut deeper than its blows, and laying it to rest even more so. Everyone lost when Argent D’Nur fell.

A sharp flash of hellish thunder brought the Slayer’s attention to the looming Blood Storm. The low-density pocket over the area was fading, he needed to get to the portal device fast.

The Slayer raced back to the Pyramid as the sky darkened once more and the waves of thunder rolled from beyond the mountains, the Suit’s Harmonic Resonators already thrumming with shrill warbling. He crashed and Rampaged through the forest of pillars, paying no mind to the jagged trail of destruction he left in his wake. Rivulets of corrosive blood rained on the Pyramid’s stones as lightning explosively struck the capstone.

Countless swells of scarlet flame manifested around the Pyramid with legions of imps, pinkies, cacodemons, and Blood Knights emerging from the rifts as the Blood Storm violently swerved over the Pyramid, even the faint lingering power of the malignant entity able to churn and disrupt the infernal calamity.

The Slayer did not halt or gape. He loosened his shoulders and raced even faster towards the Pyramid, the murky stone pillars crumbling to fine dust against the Praetor Suit as he ran at frightening speeds.

Zombies, Damned, and Apostates shambling from the UAC dropship docked within the Pyramid. Flying imps, dark imps and pyroimps throwing all sorts of fireballs at him. Cacodemons spitting lightning bolts and crackling orbs in his direction.

The Slayer drew the Blazing Spirit and spun the cylinder. HEALTH was good, ammo was full, Berserk almost ready to go. Deep breaths, stay focused, keep moving, and always mind his surroundings.

It was time to make the Blood Keep live up to its name.

He leapt into the air while charging a Blood Punch, his fist tracing a bright red path across the sky before landing onto the demonic horde. POWW! RAHH! RAHH! RAHH! Ghostly green light flashed across the Hellscape as the Blazing Spirit released powerful blasts of tormented souls unto the flailing masses, sending limbs and gore flying. The Slayer Rampaged across the horde to stay on the move and avoid the roiling waves and shrieking lightning of the Blood Storm.

Pinkies also tore through the mob as they attempted to ram the Slayer, but a single soul blast from his spirit revolver bypassed their bone armor and reduced them to shredded giblets splattered on the cursed ground. As the horde thickened he switched to the chaingun and opened fire.

RATATATATATAT!!

Pure unfettered devastation. The heavy tungsten rounds from the autocannon passed unhindered through the hides and bones of countless vile beasts, tearing bodies apart, vaporizing organs from the force of impact, and leaving smoldering entrails smeared on the terrain.

And eating through the Slayer’s bullet pool as well.

A pack of Blood Knights charged towards the Slayer and he turned the chaingun at them, felling one and another but his bullet count was already at half capacity and he only had two chainsaw batteries left. He switched from the chaingun to the combat shotgun while strafing away from the Blood Knights’ fireballs and the rest of the horde, charging and shooting several explosive shots at the monsters. The shots hit their mark and several imps around them were torn to shreds by the burning shrapnel, but the Blood Knights continued their attack and the Slayer fell back to keep his distance, the sudden shadow falling over him indicating he was headed straight for one of the Blood Storm’s currents.

They were trying to chase him into the Blood Storm, which they had the power to resist. He switched to the autoshotgun and unloaded buckshot on the Blood Knights, eviscerating two of them but the rest advanced and leapt in slamming attacks, one of which caught the Slayer in its range. 52 HEALTH. Cornered, the Slayer threw the Knight off with a quick punch and raced into the Storm.

50 HEALTH. 48. 46. He winced as the Blood Storm’s rains pierced through the Praetor Suit and ate away at his body, his HEALTH slowly and surely ticking down. The rest of the horde avoided the Storm or wasted away to its power, but the Blood Knights remained hot on his trail and the crimson lightning stabbing at his eyes made it difficult to see and aim. He turned to his Clearsight, the shadow and flashes instantly vanishing to make the demons clearly stand out. He switched to the rocket launcher. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The explosions caught most of the Knights in their blast range and faltered them, and the Slayer switched to the super shotgun to finish them off. POWW! POWW! POWW!

One of the Blood Knights threw a fireball at the Slayer. He swerved around but it struck the terrain behind him and exploded in Hellfire, washing him in the scorching blaze. 18 HEALTH.

The Slayer was at critical health and the horde was nowhere near finished. If he died now, the Black Pyramid might be destroyed or swarmed with entire assault fortresses by the time he returned and the Blood Storm passed. He might not get the chance again to return to 2149 Mars.

He rushed out of the Blood Storm to conserve his remaining HEALTH and raced at a nearby zombie hoping for a quick fix, before a bright beam of hellish energy flashed from a distance and reduced the zombie to cinders. The Slayer stared but he did not stop, bringing his fist through the body of another nearby zombie and quickly recovering 10 HEALTH. It was not enough. There were no pinkies nearby, but if he could bait a dark imp into attacking him at close range, he could stagger it with a parry and then execute it for a decent amount of HEALTH. There was one nearby. He zigged and zagged through multiple speedy and homing fireballs before arriving at close proximity to the demon, watching it raise its claws to slash at him before reading his Bracer for the parry.

Right before the strike landed, a thin hook-tipped tail whipped out of nowhere and struck the imp in the chest, harpooning it away from the desperate Slayer. He turned to the culprit demon.

A low and stout figure with a barbed tail several times its body length. Four long clawed legs and two arms ending with wickedly sharp scythes. Two black jagged horns whose surfaces flashed with glowing symbols, and a single circular blazing rune instead of eyes above its bared mouth. A Velcore.

Strafing around the demon while switching to the HAR, the Slayer lined up a precision shot while avoiding the pulsed beams of hellish energy the Velcore shot from its ocular rune. Velcores were cunning and they frequently struck when the Slayer was at reduced health. He aligned the shot and fired, the bolt striking the demon in the head and breaking off one of its horns. Rushing in while the demon was faltered, the Slayer grabbed a hold of its body and threw it at a nearby caco who snapped at him, the smaller demon vanishing behind a mangled mess of gore and teeth.

The rest of the horde had not ceased its assault and several other Velcores attempted to snipe him from afar, just as the dozens of imps and cacodemons lobbed fireballs and lightning bolts at him. He needed to take out the Velcores first and stat.

He was almost ready to go Berserk. Just had to charge it a bit more.

The Slayer changed his trajectory to lead him straight into the heart of the horde, Rampaging through the demons directly in front of him as he noted the positions of all the Velcores. A wave of imps and zombies swarmed at him. He put the HAR away and raised his fists for melee combat. He kicked an imp away and brought his fist through its face and he rushed past it, raised a zombie over his head and broke its back like a twig, cracked a pinky’s face armor with his knee and pulled its horns to rip its head apart. As the horde crashed in over itself he clambered to the top while avoiding claws and teeth, straining free of the clutching arms while equipping the combat shotgun and reading himself for his next course of action.

He thrust off from the bodies beneath and activated his Iron Sight boost. He pulled his arm free from the latches of a grasping imp, placed the barrel on its chest, and instantly blasted it apart.

The Slayer’s senses became as sharp and precise as a honed knife. He had complete situational awareness and felt the weapon he carried as natural a part of him as the hand that held it.

Slinging the shotgun around and pulling the trigger, he immediately knew the explosive shot killed the Velcore pouncing behind him. He brought it back around and sniped another velcore hundreds of meters away, switched to the HAR and instantly put a precision bolt through the ocular rune of another one behind a dozen other demons without even a moment to aim.

The Iron Sight boost amplified the Slayer’s tactical capabilities and allowed him to land pinpoint shots without even the faintest of effort. His aim was true, his bullets found their mark. An imp all by itself threw fireballs at him. He charged a shrapnel shot and fired it. The imp was now all by itself in multiple locations.

Phase rifle. ZAP ZAP ZAP ZAP ZAP ZAP ZAP! The plasmoids found their way to the targeted cacodemon and vaporized it in a burst of moist blue tissue.

Rocket launcher. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! A Velcore slinked behind a pinky in the belief the armored demon would shield it from the explosion.

The rocket that curved around the pinky and killed them both proved it wrong.

The Slayer spun around.

BOOM!

A foolish Blood Knight had attempted to charge at the Slayer behind his back, the rocket reducing it to a steaming red gibs that splashed onto the Praetor Suit.

He was doing surprisingly well. Ammo pools were good, the horde was almost gone, and his HEALTH was 74. All that was left to fight was-

“RAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!!”

Two Barons of Hell.

“RAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!!”

Ten meters of muscular crimson flesh, twisted ebony horns, wicked talons and jagged teeth roaring with infernal ferocity from the peak of the Black Pyramid as scarlet lightning flashed behind them. Arcane runes of power floating over their hands and chests while a bright hellish halo adorned their heads. The greater offspring of Abaddon and major demon lords of infernal battle-fortresses. Semi-wild beasts of the untamed Hellscapes, often serving as forward command and heavy attack units on infernal sieges or in invasions of mortal worlds.

The dull grey pillars surrounding the Pyramid immediately morphed into deadly sharp blood-red spikes, and the Blood Storm changed from an unguided tempest to a directed force of calamitous destruction, bending under the Barons’ powers and descending upon the Slayer.

The Slayer immediately raced away from the Pyramid as the Resonators’ steady tones crescendoed to a heavy thunderous cannonade, rushing away from the chasing Blood Storm and aiming the rocket launcher at the Barons, although he knew it wouldn’t do much good. It would take a dozen direct rockets to kill a single Baron, ammo which the Slayer no longer possessed, and the Tracker component on the upper right corner of his HUD indicated Iron Sight was almost depleted.

The two Barons began charging towards the Slayer, rushing down the sides of the Black Pyramid and crashing through countless demons in their path. The rockets the Slayer shot curved towards their targets and struck. One, two. The missiles exploded and blasted hide and flesh from the hulking demons, faltering them with their sheer force, but the Barons remained standing and turned to the Slayer with abominable fury.

“RAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!!”

The entire demonic horde around the Pyramid screeched and rushed at him with increased ferocity, the Barons’ violence and command manifesting in their lesser minds as blood-crazed frenzy.

The Slayer turned the rocket launcher away from the Barons and towards the mob falling upon him. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Limbs and gore flew everywhere but the demons grew too close to use the launcher safely. He punched away the foes that came too near, but their blows were fiercer. Harsher. 47 HEALTH.

He pressed the trigger on the rocket launcher once more, which clicked emptily.

ROCKETS – 0

The bar beneath the Iron Sight icon in his HUD went dark as the honing boost to his senses disappeared. The boost was gone.

Chaingun!

RATATATATATATAT!!

The barrage of piercing incendiary rounds decimated the masses around the Slayer and cleared the Hellscape in his vicinity, unobstructing his view of the colossal green fireball laying waste across the mountain range straight for him.

BOOM!

Direct hit. 12 HEALTH.

The Slayer flew backwards as his Blood Rage flared and the smoldering Praetor Suit recovered from the massive hole blasted in its front side. He crashed across the Hellscape before gathering his bearings and recovering his balance, leaving a ravaged trail of devastation across the rocky terrain.

The Barons were still a distance away but Hellfire was already gathering in one’s fists. Widening his eyes, the Slayer rushed to avoid the incoming attack. The Baron leapt high into the air and slammed the ground.

A blazing wave of Hellfire erupted from the impact site with the force of a bomb, laying waste to the masses around the Pyramid, shattering the blood-red crystal fields, and rapidly approaching the Slayer.

Thinking quick, he manipulated the Hellscape to raise a stone barricade in front of him just as the scorching wave reached his position, passing over his cover and melting the edges of the infernal rock.

“Eeeeee…”

OH SHIT!

“PEWW!!”

The Slayer rushed from behind the slab of rock and onto the charred terrain as a blinding beam of Hellish energy vaporized his meager cover, right in front of the other charging Baron and its massive claws falling upon him.

He reflexively raised his Bracer and parried the swipe. POWW!

The Slayer was thrust back with the force of the blow, and even the Baron briefly faltered but remained alert. Acting quick before the demon attacked again, he leapt upward and quickly focused a Blood Punch, the heavy blow amplified further by Blood Rage from the Slayer’s reduced health. The punch landed squarely on the Baron’s groin.

“RAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!!”

He hurried away from the pained demon to quickly recover distance before it attacked again.

His Bracer could block a direct hit from a Baron of Hell in its entirety, but it’d still be unwise to engage a Baron at such close range, especially at 12 HEALTH.

Furious, the injured Baron gathered Hellfire within its hands and launched colossal waves of flame towards the Slayer. Rampaging at full speed, he swerved and strafed around these as they thunderously struck again the nearby mountains, reducing them to charred rubble and boiling lava.

Turning in the direction of the beam that had pulverized his cover, the Slayer spotted a horrific hyperdimensional construct of amalgamated crystal shards and demon gore, incensed with bright energy and forged by the Barons’ latent power, hovering and folding unto itself above the Hellscape. A Blood Prism.

Blood Prisms were slow and fairly easy to take down, but they’d take his attention away from the Barons and pressure him from a distance. And the longer the Barons were present, the more Prisms would appear.

“RAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!!”

The other Baron opened a dozen summoning circles and spawned a ring of Blood Knights that immediately chased after the Slayer. They’d try to chase him into the Blood Storm again but at such reduced health he’d never survive it, and he wouldn’t be able to dodge any more hits from the Prisms or Barons.

Sometimes though, the best defense…

The Slayer slung a grenade at the Baron behind him while launching a stun bomb at the other closest to the pack, before brandishing the chainsaw and charging a Blood Punch.

…WAS A GOOD OFFENSE!!

In a single twisting motion, the Slayer brought the chainsaw across the chest of the nearest Hell Knight before swinging his left hand and landing the Blood Punch on its shredded chest, the amplified blow releasing a crimson explosion that eviscerated half the pack.

Fresh ammo, 32 HEALTH. Better than nothing.

He strafed away from the remainder of the pack as the Baron in front broke out of the stun and threw a fireball directly at him. He swerved out of the way and the projectile exploded as it struck the Blood Knights, but these were unaffected. Hell Knights were completely subservient to the command of Barons and carried immunity to their attacks as kindred Hellspawn of Abaddon.

What to do now?

Another Blood Prism had formed from the shattered crystal fields and demonic cadavers, and he could spot a third in the process of coalescence. The first meanwhile was folding itself into a long, pronged sniping configuration and charged a beam in the Slayer’s direction.

“Eeeeee…”

He maneuvered himself into position and raised his Bracer.

“PEWW!!”

A brilliant beam of energy erupted from the construct and struck the palm of his Bracer, converging into a crackling focus of light shining within his clenched fist. He turned towards the more-injured Baron and released the energy towards it. POWW! The beam struck directly in the monster’s chest and seared a deep smoldering crater. It buckled and stooped to its knees while clutching its chest but was still alive.

Now was his chance!

He switched to the rocket launcher and opened fire on the injured Baron while charging towards it. BOOM!! BOOM!! BOOM!! The missiles struck and blasted great chunks of flesh of its body and exposed grisly glistening tissue and ebony bones.

The Slayer entered into range of the Baron’s melee attack and leapt.

The Baron slashed at him one last time, but he keenly parried the blow and finally staggered the monster. Landing on the demon’s shoulders, the Slayer grasped one of the twisted black horns and tore it free from the skull before swinging it like a bat and smashing the Baron’s head off, its accompanying halo likewise vanishing in a burst of ashes. 57 HEALTH.

“RAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!!”

The remaining Baron roared with enraged savagery as its companion was slain, fiercely intensifying its attacks towards the Slayer. It threw one fireball after another while launching great surges of flame that soared and exploded against the Hellscape.

He swerved and strafed around the attacks which shot past into the Sanctum, vanishing into the emptiness or reducing the mountains to smoldering embers. One struck close to a Blood Prism and triggered an iridescent shield.

He needed to lessen the pressure on him from the Prisms, which were not only armored but deployed vigorous defense fields.

Phase rifle! ZAP ZAP ZAP ZAP ZAP ZAP ZAP!

The Prism folded its structure into a broad flat configuration, increasing its surface area towards the Slayer to maximize the shield facing him. He sustained the stream of plasmoids as the shield shimmered and finally shattered.

Chaingun! RATATATATATATATAT!

The rounds passed through the construct’s hard crystal armor and organic interior, setting fire to its structure before demolishing it in a burst of shards and gore that exploded in a bright cross of crimson light.

One Prism down. Keeping an eye on the remaining Baron, the Slayer turned the chaingun towards it and opened fire. The rounds found their target but the Baron was immune to their incendiary effects and pressed on through the barrage of bullets.

Rocket launcher! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The Baron raised its hand and produced an ethereal runic shield that blocked the incoming rockets, but ceased its advance and moved around the Slayer for the duration of this guard.

Two Prisms to go. The next one folded itself into heavy attack configuration, morphing its crystal shell into the shape of an inverted pentagram and baring a small red spherical core as an infernal aura formed in preparation of its attack.

“Eee…”

The Slayer switched to the HAR and lined a precision bolt just as the construct lowered its shield to fire its beam. POW!

The bolt hit and the core exploded in a burst of blood, the Blood Prism quickly folding unto itself and closing with a solid clang.

“EEEEEE!!”

With an ear-splitting screech, the Blood Prism recoiled in mortal agony and took on a dark spiny form before its structure came apart and finally crumbled to dust.

Only one Prism left!

Desperate to kill the Slayer, the Baron reached out and forced the crystal fields under its control. It freed a multitude of blood-red spikes from their bases and reformed them into long thin lances which floated in the sanguine sky before turning to the Slayer and shooting in his direction like a macabre rain.

Chaingun! RATATATATATATAT!

The heavy piercing rounds reduced the barrage of crystal lances to a drizzle of fine dust that rained onto the Sanctum and harmlessly chinked against the Praetor Suit.

With lightning-quick movements, the Slayer grabbed one of the incoming lances out of the air and returned it to the immobile Baron. The lance struck and embedded itself deep within the demon’s shoulder, which stumbled back and roared in excruciating agony.

“Eee…”

The Slayer quickly switched back to the HAR and fired a precision bolt as the last Blood Prism attacked. The shot landed and the construct’s beam missed, exploding against the terrain far in the distance, although the bolt had just grazed and cracked the Prism’s core.

But it was exposed!

Grabbing one of the last crystal lances, he switched to the Blazing Spirit and launched consecutive soul blasts at the construct to keep it hitstunned while rushing at it. The Prism morphed into a spinning forked structure and shot a volley of beams at him, which he strafed and zig zagged around.

“Eee…”

He leapt at the Blood Prism with lance pointing straight forward. The lance passed clean through the construct’s defense field and sank into its crimson core. The Slayer fired his jump pack for one last momentum boost and fractured its heart, leaping off the crippled Prism before it impaled him in its death throes.

Clang!

“EEEEE!”

67 HEALTH.

“RAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!!”

The Baron of Hell roared in violent despair. Heavily injured and at the end of its power, alone against the Slayer with no other demons on the battlefield. With the last of its strength, the demon lord raised its arms to the sky and called upon its infernal creator, the Mark of Abaddon appearing above it as it implored for a blessing from the Elder God of War.

The Slayer quickly switched to the Blazing Spirit and fired all six barrels at the demon lord to finish it off, but it was too late.

A great surge of infernal power exploded unto the Hellscape and the Slayer watched a colossal rift in Hell’s reality form above the Baron, the sky erupting into many rings of black and red as the Blood Storm swirled around the vortex and the demon lord vanished within the hellish radiance.

A new legion of demons burst forth into the Kadingir Sanctum. Imps, Hellions, Velcores, Cacodemons, Hell Knights. Blood Prisms. Mancubi.

Basilisks, their great serpentine forms slithering through the rift and roaring upon locating the Slayer.

And at the center of it all, the Baron of Hell absorbed the crimson energy channeling from the rift, healing its body and restoring its power.

“RAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!!”

The radiance vanished and the Baron of Hell roared amidst the Hellscape, body fully restored and Hellfire blazing in its eyes.

The Slayer wasted no time in returning to battle, equipping the chaingun and opening fire, but his ammo was running low and with the Baron’s ferocity coursing through the horde, his HEALTH surely and steadily ticked down.

41.

He dodged fireballs and searing beams, caustic missiles from Mancubi and a Basilisk ramming into the Hellscape in an effort to devour him.

The Baron appeared in front of him.

He raised his Bracer in defense and the monster’s swipe glanced off it, but in its blood craze the demon resisted the power surge and immediately followed with another attack. POWW! The Slayer was being thrust back with every blow and could not escape the monster’s assault. POWW POWW! POWW!

“RAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!!”

The Slayer raised his Bracer one last time.

The timing was wrong.

He watched the defensive field fade from the Bracer before the strike had even landed.

Had the Baron purposefully baited him?

He thought he spotted something resembling a grin appear on the demon’s jaws before the blow landed and claws tore through his body.

“Please have a seat.”

He and another half dozen inmates groggily sat down on the steel chairs in front of the officer, handcuffs and chained boots clinking loudly, but the armed guards holding rifles to their necks remained standing.

“Time is short so I’ll be brief.

At approximately 0000 Coordinated Mars Time, multiple UAC research facilities on Phobos and Deimos were attacked. Who, or what, is responsible remains unclear, but both moons are presumed lost and Mars is on full planetwide alert. Our fleets stationed at the moons, of the US military and the Union Aerospace Corporation, are gone, and no survivors are confirmed.

No communications were received from either moon during the window of the attack, apart from one emergency message. The transmission is heavily corroded but was recorded and will now play.”

A grim silence fell upon the room as the voice’s deathly scream faded away into nothingness. Some of the inmates fidgeted uncomfortably, others frowned in confusion. The Marine made no response, but the man seated to his right sat up straight, while the woman to his left whistled in surprise.

“Crikey,” she muttered with no indication of concern or unease. “How about that.”

The officer continued.

“No further transmissions have been received nor further activity observed from either moon. Deimos has gone dark but we have established visual contact with Phobos, and plan to send a team in for recon, situation assessment, and if possible, extraction of any survivors.”

“Here it comes,” whispered the voice to his left.

“We plan to send you.”

The room immediately erupted with the inmates’ protest. Responses ranged from accusations of unethical treatment to declarations of an unwillingness to die.

The Marine turned to the woman beside him, who replied with a sly grin. Told you.

The armed guards prodded the inmates with their rifles and shouted at them to be quiet. The officer waited calmly until the room returned to silence.

“Question, sir,” inquired the woman while leaning forward.

“Squad leader Ashford.”

“We all know why you’re sending us instead of normal troops. But have you tried unmanned recon?”

“Unsuccessfully. Whatever jammed the comms during the attack remains in effect, and all drones we’ve sent have failed due to interference.”

“So we’ll be cut off as well,” Ashford affirmed while resting her chin on her hand. “A single unit of six max-security military inmates sent to investigate an attack of unknown origin. No comms to report back or call for extraction. Plenty of guns, expensive equipment, and possibly escape pods.

Bugger me if that’s a great idea.”

“You were brought here because you were the best at what you did. For the moment, your past crimes are irrelevant. You’re all highly trained and skilled professionals, and your psychological profiles have been deemed acceptable for this mission.

I won’t lie. The fact is, this is a highly dangerous operation with a considerable chance of failure. Two of the best defended locations in the Solar System have been lost to an attack of unknown nature. Command needs an assessment ASAP to formulate the next course of action, and you’re the only platoon with spec ops experience for fifty million miles, felons or not.”

“We may be felons,” spoke the man to the Marine’s right in a low but firm tone, “but we still have rights. Our cases were closed, our death sentences pardoned, and you can’t simply throw us away to die like dogs.

My men and I are not expendable.”

The other inmates clamored in agreement, but the officer quickly rushed to quiet their complaints.

“Private Osborne, no one is throwing you or anyone else away like dogs. You have the full choice to refuse this mission.”

The turmoil immediately died.

“…Choice?”

“Command is offering this platoon the opportunity to carry out this operation, in exchange for certain accommodations to your present circumstances.”

“What accommodations could you offer us in this shithole colony?” Osborne asked in irritation. “Monthly leaves to the toxin refineries? Lifetime supply of nutrient paste? Visitations? I have two hundred years of off-Earth imprisonment with no parole or outside contact.”

“I have three,” Ashford whispered on the verge of laughter.

“Look, gentlemen – and lady…”

Ashford winked.

“We don’t have much time, and Command is willing to negotiate after the operation is complete, but they’re ready to transfer you to less-restricted installations with more favorable commodities, limited employment and access to commercial utilities-”

“Joy,” Ashford sighed as she wiped the sleep from her eyes. “Lab-grown meat and that diluted piss which Americans call beer.”

“-and supervised use of pre-recorded communications to Earth.”

The inmates murmured to each other in surprise. Ashford blinked and raised her eyebrows.

“Phone rights, you say?”

“Supervised and pre-recorded, but yes.”

“Hmm.”

“Time is running out, people. I need an answer now.”

“…I could do with a phone call home. Got a mate I haven’t talked to in ages.

Huh. What do you say, boys?” Ashford asked the platoon while leaning back on her chair. “Up for one last ride?”

“…I’m down.”

“Sign me the hell up.”

“Sure. Why not? Maybe now they’ll let me watch restricted flicks in the rec room.”

Ashford turned to face the Marine but she already knew his answer, and they both nodded in agreement.

She leaned forward to look at a doubtful Osborne, who remained silent.

“Phillip?” She asked.

The private glowered but reluctantly sighed.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

“We’re in.”

“Roger that,” replied the officer. “You’ll be escorted to your briefing room where you’ll be given mission details, conditions, and instructions.

Good luck, marines. And Godspeed. Dismissed.”

With urging from the armed guards, the six inmates got to their feet and loudly shambled out of the room. Just as the Marine thought back to the person he would call as soon as the mission was over – and thank for sparing his life – he felt an elbow at his side.

“Don’t worry, big guy,” Ashford gleamed. “I’ve got your back.”

The Marine was a full head taller than the squad leader and had to look down to make eye contact, but he cracked a smirk, both out of camaraderie and uneasiness. Ashford responded with a smile as bright as it was nefarious.

Don’t worry, big guy. I’ve got your back.

1 HP.

Berserk. Activated.

The Doom Slayer erupted in a blinding beam of scarlet lightning as flames embroiled his entire body and rage flooded his mind.

Pure, raw, unfettered rage.

His HEALTH instantly rocketed to 100 and he rose suspended into the sanguine sky of the Kadingir Sanctum as the tones from his Resonators climaxed into a grand booming choir and the demonic horde veered away from the overwhelming surge of power.

He recoiled and grimaced, his rage scorching at his mind and something slicing its way from within, something like twisted blades stabbing through his body.

He stared as his hands twisted and contorted into a horrific form, his fingers morphing to become long wickedly sharp claws that tore through the Praetor Suit and gleamed with a scarlet aura as his Dark Claw rune came into power.

The Slayer would have yelled in fury and agony, but the Chains that bound his lips remained sealed as they were at the First Battle, and he voiced nothing.

So, he attacked.

He Rampaged through the horde and blindly slashed at everything that moved in his crazed fury. He slashed at a Velcore and dismembered it in a single swipe. He slashed at a pinky and reduced its armor and body to long hemorrhaging rinds. At a Hellion, a Blood Knight, a Cacodemon, one demon after another, all dissected and severed in a single fell blow.

“Eee…”

The Slayer charged at the Blood Prism preparing to fire its beam.

“PEWW!!”

He swerved around the blinding beam as it struck and vaporized a dozen demons behind him. He leapt at the crystalline construct and swiped a clawed hand at it, slicing through shield and armor and shredding its core in a single slash.

“EEE-”

The Prism almost erupted in dark glossy spines before its contained energy burst through its shell and exploded in a bright scarlet cross, leaving a large smoking crater amid the frantic legions.

“ROOARR-WAAHH!”

A Mancubus fired its bile at the Slayer and washed away countless demons beneath a wave of filth, and its attack landed and began to eat away at the Slayer’s HEALTH.

This only made him madder.

He charged through demons and bile alike in his ravenous bloodthirst, his glaring eyes set only for the Mancubus. He swiped his claws in its direction even before arriving close to it, but the claws launched crimson waves that pierced through the Mancubus’s armor, severing an arm cannon in a single strike. He slashed again. The next wave sliced open its belly and spilled its foul innards onto the Hellscape, and the Mancubus roared in agony. The Slayer finally reached the Mancubus, and effectively passed through it with a single swipe, already long gone before the upper half of the demon’s body even hit the ground.

Another Mancubus launched fireballs at him. Too far to attack it with his claws, the Slayer rushed for a nearby Velcore and buried his claws in it. The impaled Velcore shrieked as its body began to deform under the malignant power of Dark Claw, liquifying into a writhing black-and-red mass.

The Slayer tossed the Velcore’s remains at the Mancubus, which soared through the air before impacting and immediately erupting into a barrage of long spiked tendrils. These impaled dozens of nearby demons and harpooned them towards the Mancubus before exploding in a blast of arcane crimson energy.

He impaled further nearby demons and tossed them as one biobomb after another, the battlefield darkening beneath the shadow of the tendril barrages and the downpour of flying body parts.

“ROAH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH!”

A Basilisk slithered in the sky and doubled back around in approach of the Slayer. He leapt off from the ground of the Kadingir Sanctum towards the colossal serpent and swung his claws at it, the attack cleaving through the Basilisk’s shell and almost slicing its head off. The demon roared as thick black blood flooded from its fatal injury and its head hung limply from its sputtering body segments. The Slayer landed on the Basilisk’s horns and brought both clawed hands down on the beast, utterly shredding its massive head and falling back to the Hellscape on the collapsing corpse. The Basilisk’s body broke apart and its segments crashed down on the demonic legions as the Slayer leapt off and sliced his way across the mob.

“ROAH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH!”

Another Basilisk roared as it charged at the Slayer, bringing its great jaws down onto the terrain and cleaving a trail of devastation across the horde towards him.

The Slayer had had enough.

He Rampaged towards the monster at full speed as it bared its many mandibles and its flaming maw, leaping off in a great soaring arc and passing directly into the Basilisk’s throat.

Not even a moment later, massive fiery claw marks appeared on the serpent’s shell as something sliced its way from within. They stretched the entire length of the demon’s body and twisted around in great gyrating motions, its entire structure crumbling into massive ribbons of shell and tissue before the Slayer finally erupted from the back, Suit and claws glistening with demon viscera.

Most of the horde was either eradicated or fled, but the Slayer had one more demon left to exterminate before his Berserk expired. He searched throughout the fleeing masses for the last Baron of Hell before finding it moving away from him, still tossing fireballs and flame waves in his direction, and immediately headed for it.

“RAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!!”

The Slayer strafed around one fireball and another, laying waste to the Hellscape and remaining demons as much as he did as he charged for the Baron. The demon lord gathered Hellfire in its hands and released it in a thundering smash that quaked the ground and expanded in a flaming shockwave. The Slayer continued in his Ramage and willingly passed through the blast in his ravenous fury to annihilate the Baron, paying no mind to the large chunk of HEALTH the attack took away. He had almost arrived at the Baron but chose not to use Dark Claw’s long-range attacks. He was going to make it personal.

The Baron of Hell raised its arms in futile defense, and for the briefest moment something resembling fear appeared upon its face.

The Slayer raised a clawed hand and in a single swipe sliced away the Baron’s legs. Another swipe reduced its torso and arms to dark ribbons of shredded flesh. He raised both hands one last time, and the Baron’s decapitated head gaped in deathly terror before all the Slayer’s claws destroyed it.

His rage expended, the Slayer recoiled in agony as his skin crackled with scarlet lightning and released his fury in a violent explosion, scorching the mountainsides, vaporizing the last demonic stragglers, and searing the scales of the remaining Basilisks as they slithered away into the sanguine sky.

He stood silently amidst the smoldering Hellscape of the Kadingir Sanctum while breathing deeply, watching the Blood Storm dissipate overhead. With the power of Berserk expired, the Dark Claw rune returned to dormancy and his hands were back to normal. He listed to the solemn and haunting choir produced by his Suit’s Resonators, chanting in worship and adoration of power untold.

He was alive.

He had arrived at the Black Pyramid, fended off legions of demonic beasts, slain two Barons of Hell, and was alive. Perhaps he was not as weak as he imagined.

A notification appeared on his visor’s HUD, and he turned to read it.

SAVING THROW RESTORED – GET ONE CHANCE TO SURVIVE A DEATH BLOW

RESETS ON DEATH

Saving Throw. One of the Slayer’s more advantageous powers, and one that had saved his skin more times than once. Considering his relatively low defensive capacities, it was useful when fighting against the higher powers deep within Hell.

Speaking of which, how did he ever kill those two Barons of Hell back on Phobos?

He paused for a moment as he dredged through long-forgotten memories, buried beneath ages of violence and suffering across worlds and realms.

He didn’t have the Praetor Suit back then. He didn’t have its armor or ammo fabricators, its weapon matrix or Vanguard Bracer. And he certainly didn’t have any of his powers that he now possessed. His strength, his speed. His ability to draw strength from his fallen foes, resist the dark forces of Hell, strike fear into the heart of evil. The power of immortality. He had possessed none of it.

How the hell did one man manage to slay two major demon lords with the power to fell capital ships, overtake two highly fortified moons, command entire legions and rend mountains asunder?

He was surprised he had never actually considered this before.

He had the Retribution. The UAC had possessed plasma rifles and portable rocket launchers back then. Med pack technology had just been invented, even modular armor plating. Body armor at that time was nothing spectacular but it could resist the odd imp and zombie.

But…two Barons of Hell?

There was a gun, now that he thought about it. A prototype heavy plasma cannon, a 2700 series, perhaps. What was its name?

The FOG?

No, that wasn’t it. Its real name was an unpronounceable dozen-syllable mess concocted by the science geeks, though the jarheads often called it by a coarse but reverent title, which he couldn’t seem to recall.

He sighed in defeat.

Well, whatever it was, it had certainly been one very large gun.

The Slayer realized he’d become awfully reminiscent ever since awaking on Mars, far more thoughtful and reflective than he’d ever been before.

Scoffing, he broke out of his quiet introspection and dusted off the rubble and gore on his Praetor Suit, equipping the combat shotgun and feeling its comforting weight on his hands before turning and calmly walking towards the Black Pyramid.

Ever since Phobos, his mind had been a broken mess of rage and pain, existing only to fight, to kill, to destroy. His nights were long ordeals of terrible nightmares, and everywhere he looked he saw the encroaching claws and eyes of demon-kind.

There’d been a few times in which he’d broken through his madness, maintained sanity and focus long enough to accomplish higher goals. When he arrived before the races that would one day become the Corrax Alliance and guided them on the path for survival. When he’d arrived at Argent D’Nur, climbed the ranks from outlander to fellow soldier. Making brothers, breaking bread, and shedding blood alongside the Night Sentinels long before receiving his power.

When he met him.

The Slayer’s heart panged with a sensation he’d not felt in ages, and even if he could speak he would have been unable to describe it.

He who’d shown him how to calm his mind, exist in the present, focus his anger. Gifted him his power.

His guardian angel.

The Slayer scowled at the child-like thought as he reached the Pyramid and began climbing it, minding his footing as he hiked and jumped over the deep gouges on its battle-scarred surface.

So much for that. If there was anything the Slayer had lost in his ageless slumber within that cursed sarcophagus, it was his focus. He’d never been distracted or inattentive in battle before. Or worse, contemplative of all things. Back then he’d been keen, sharp, a ruthless killing machine as efficient as he was deadly. Whatever the Elder Gods had done to him, they’d taken that edge away.

…Or had they?

He still had his anger. He still felt that ceaseless need to break and maim the bones and flesh of demonkind. To rip and tear. He still had that drive, but it was no longer the one thing that occupied his mind.

The Night Sentinels on Argent D’Nur. His squad mates on Phobos. When was the last time he thought about them? Remembered their faces, their names, their voices? How he lived and fought alongside them? Found their mangled bodies broken by the hands of demons?

For those he ever managed to track down. He found one squadmate on Phobos suspended by his own viscera and another’s still-twitching body impaled on a piece of rebar. The last one was…fortunately dead after what they’d done to him. Ashford was nowhere to be found.

Had he forgotten what was truly important? Perhaps he had forgotten what he fought for?

Had he forgotten her?

The Slayer arrived at the massive breach left on the surface of the Pyramid by the Retribution. He placed his hand on the edge of the aperture, feeling the lingering energy of the broken seals that had imprisoned him for so long. Absolute seals of both infernal and celestial origin, used by the highest powers in Creation to imprison the greatest force of destruction that ever existed, and Samuel Hayden had broken them all.

How did the cyborg ever do it?

The Slayer slowly took his hand of the rough stone before cocking his shotgun and stepping into the Pyramid.

He walked along a single long and straight corridor, footsteps echoing loudly across the featureless stone walls.

No matter how great their power, the Heresiarchs had not imprisoned him on their own. They’d received help from above. From the others. The cursed slumber they all placed him in had greatly placated his rage and calmed the Slayer down, that was for sure. Had that been the plan all along?

Whose plan was it?

The Slayer arrived at the heart of the Pyramid.

He stepped into a wide chamber whose every surface lay covered with strange shimmering runes and images. The spells of confinement, the seals of the five Heresiarchs, and the Slayer’s own Mark. Ethereal symbols filled the air as they floated from cracks in the ground, occasionally taking the form of vacant screaming faces, though the Slayer could sense no life or thought within the Black Pyramid. But these were not what he focused on.

In the center of the chamber was the sixth UAC ship, its structure unfolded into an arching manifold that stretched throughout the Pyramid’s interior. Despite its strange appearance, it appeared intact and unharmed from Hell’s dark magics. The interdimensional drive had been disengaged from the ship’s structure and retrofitted to form a provisional portal device. The armored body of the last red guard sat motionlessly by it, its helmet and face gouged out by its own hands. Apart from these two objects, the chamber was empty.

Feeling the quiet lingering air of a human presence still echoing within the Pyramid, he widened his senses one last time.

Within the chamber, the Slayer beheld the towering aura of Samuel Hayden standing stoically above a sealed stone sarcophagus. The cyborg paced softly around it, as if wary and apprehensive of what lay within, yet intrigued and fascinated.

Hayden reached out, and gently placed his hand on the sarcophagus. The Slayer thought he could see faint arcs of lightning spread from his hand to the inscribed stone surface.

What did the cyborg have to do with all this?

How did he find him? How did he break the Pyramid’s seals? How did he return?

…

The Slayer listlessly slumped his shoulders. Perhaps he really had lost it.

If he kept standing still like an idiot, doing nothing but thinking to himself, he might as well build a new sarcophagus and go lie that one too. Perhaps he’d do a better job of detaining himself than the Elder Gods ever did!

He turned to the portal control terminal situated beside the transporter ring.

FORWARD RESEARCH STATION TELEPORT CONTROL

TARGET DESTINATION: UAC FACILITY RECEIVER

ACTIVATE PORTAL?

Focus, focus, focus. All things considered, the Slayer’s cursed slumber now allowed a unique opportunity for growth. Recovery of his old powers and arsenal was a given, but he now had the chance to recover his focus too. Not just immediate combat focus but long-term as well.

If the Argent Fracture had been breached, Hell would send forward command units to Mars. No doubt a few minor Summoner-class demon lords, but perhaps a pair of Barons as well. The Barons would settle somewhere on the planet and command the entirety of the invading force, while the Summoners would begin reverse-engineering the UAC’s ships to build vehicles conducive to demonic travel across space. With sights for Earth.

First things first. The Slayer would have to find the Martian Spaceport and destroy any remaining human vessels to slow down the demon lords’ progress. Next came locating the hidden Summoners and Barons, dealing with them, and finally finding a way to close off the Martian Fracture for good.

That settled his long-term focus. At least for the near future.

As for short-term momentary focus, it was just a matter of time and practice, he supposed. As it’d always been. He’d been out of the sarcophagus on Mars for what, a few hours? As long as he stayed disciplined and stuck to his old routine, he’d be back in shape in no time.

The Slayer stepped into the transporter ring and reached for the control terminal.

He was going to make things right. For the Sentinels, for the Verimor, for the Corrax Alliance. For his fallen brothers, for his slain squadmates, for Ashford and Osborne. For her. And for Earth.

He exhaled. Here goes nothing.

He tapped the panel and triggered the portal activation button.

ERROR: SPACE-TIME SYNCHRONIZATION TO SELECTED DESTINATION NOT FOUND

His outstretched hand slowly clenched into a fist as the Slayer grit his teeth and trembled with rising fury.

He pulled back in preparation to smash the panel before noticing the second message on the screen.

REFRESH TRANSPORTER MATRIX?

The Slayer closed his eyes and shakingly tapped the refresh prompt, struggling to maintain his composure with every ounce of his will.

ACTIVE SPACE-TIME TRANSPORTER NODE FOUND!

TARGET DESTINATION: MARS SPACEPORT

ACTIVATE PORTAL?

…

The Slayer’s rage immediately evaporated though not without leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Whatever. As long as he could leave this godforsaken place already.

He tapped the activation button and looked on as the retrofitted portal device whirred to life, the drive core spinning above him as energy surged from the ship’s power banks into the expanding vortex.

The Slayer poised himself in decisive anticipation as he was flung through the rift between dimensions.

He was going back to the Mortal Realm.

Back to Mars.

And when he did, there was going to be Hell to pay.

* * *

KILLS - 11%

SECRETS - 26

TIME - 15:00