“It is well documented that demons are averse to certain energies present in our universe. Although these primarily include nuclear and solar radiation – even distant starlight – the most thoroughly researched is that of certain audio frequencies.

Demons will exhibit confusion, disorientation, and impaired cognitive function if exposed to intense distorted and percussive electric sounds, particularly those classified as ‘heavy metal.’ At greater amplitudes, these frequencies can harm and downright kill them.

Curiously, although such symptoms are sometimes present among human test subjects, humans may exhibit increased aggression, higher resistance to demons’ harmful psychic effects, and even greater combat effectiveness against demons. It is believed that these frequencies transmit naturally occurring psionic energy, or perhaps trigger ancient instincts buried deep within the human psyche.

Research into advancing audio-psionic technology is ongoing.

Note: Among other devices recovered from nomadic Australian warbands that retrofit stolen UAC technology, the most peculiar appear to be psionic emitters constructed with Argent capacitors. Raiders are said to use these emitters to unleash devastating audio-psionic attacks or empower themselves with frightening properties. These devices are frequently mounted on electric guitars, earning their emissions the moniker of ‘Argent metal.’"

- UAC Report File “Argent Metal”

E1M14: Inferno

The three Ironsbane Guardians fought ferociously as a single fireteam against the Marine.

The Warlock pinned him with a gravity grenade as the Hunter and Titan pelted him with a solar handcannon and freezing blasts from a crystalline trident, but the Marine freed himself with a rocket jump and turned to retaliate.

The Hunter jetted into the air to hurl a barrage of solar knives across the hectic battlefield but the Marine shot him down with a single shot of his railgun. The roaring Titan manifested a frozen gauntlet and charged at the Marine, who dodged her attacks but was slowed as her ground slams produced fields of sharp freezing crystals. The Titan had air support from the Warlock who tossed nova grenades to restrict the Marine’s movement, but the Marine unexpectedly rushed forward and sawed the Titan in half with the chainsaw. The Warlock fired a nova rocket launcher onto the battlefield, bombarding the zone with homing nova grenades, but the Marine ducked and darted between these as he rushed the Warlock with chainsaw in hand.

Space around the Warlock became distorted as they focused cosmic energy to manifest a glaring Nova Bomb between their hand, but the Marine switched to the super shotgun and aimed it at the Warlock before he’d finished casting the projectile.

BANG!

The crowd spectating the deathmatch in the Arena Eternal roared in applause. Ten fighters down, five remaining to reveal the reigning champion.

He was already moving to evade the other Forsworn warriors. Buzzsaws and javelins from the warping Dead Spacer whizzed past him as the Hellfire Spartan grappled through the air and rained plasma fireballs from above, but he switched to the railgun while dodging the fireballs and eviscerated the Spacer with the shot.

The Cyber Angel slid into view dropping pulse bombs and pelting him with coin pistol ricochets while the Champion of the Black Labyrinth tossed explosive glyphs across the arena. The Marine took careful aim and fired the railgun to land a ricochet on the coins and strike the Cyber Angel. WHIRRR!!

Heh. Please, he’d been shooting railguns since the time of the Third Starquake. He knew how to make precision shots.

Still in the air, the Cyber Angel tossed three coins into the air and sequenced a single shot off all three and towards him. POWW! BOOM! The Marine was out of rockets and low on health, but he had a new trick up his sleeve.

He raised one middle finger at the Cyber Angel and another at the Champion, then brought both hands together to link the action. At once the Cyber Angel screeched in crimson rage but its fury was directed towards the likewise provoked Champion, who cast its Voltride upon the Cyber Angel as this switched from pistol to a nailgun. RATATATATATAT! The Champion deployed his falcon shield to block the barrage of bullets though this was quickly overwhelmed and shattered, and the Cyber Angel rushed in for the killing blow to heal with the barbarian’s blood.

Not if I get there first!

POWW! POWW! The Marine fired two rail shots at the Cyber Angel to fend the robot off while charging at the Champion. This switched to his Star of Torment and fired shotgun sprays of crystals from the crystalline mace, but the Marine deftly evaded the attacks and closed in on the Champion. The barbarian drew his axe and raised it in a last stand, to which the Marine wrestled it out of his hands and cleaved the Champion’s torso in half.

Sorry! The Marine thought back at the crumbling warrior. I’m a huge admirer!

He hadn’t yet recovered his power of Glory Kills and gained no health from the kill, but he didn’t need it. He rushed over to a health pack in front of a jump pad and leapt onto a higher platform.

POWW! AAAAHH!

The enraged Cyber Angel had launched a magnetic javelin into the Marine’s back and now fired a barrage of nails at him, which were attracted by the magnet and struck him. The Marine ducked behind cover as the robot slid after him and dashed across the walls hoping to land a blow on him and recover with his blood. It moved too fast to strike with his current weapons, but as he pulled the javelin out, he had an idea. The Cyber Angel might be fast but wasn’t too bright.

You want my blood?!

The Marine picked up a stack of rockets and aimed his rocket launcher straight down at his feet as the Cyber Angel closed in for the killing blow.

Then come get it!

BOOM! The rocket explosion, compounded with the damaging blast released from the Marine by his Boiling Blood rune, eviscerated the robot and sent sparking pieces of metal scattering across the Arena. The Forsworn crowd roared in thunderous applause.

Try fueling yourself with a little testosterone next time!

Thirteen down, two to go. The Hellfire Spartan was still somewhere in the Arena and was no doubt restocking munitions and health, which meant the only other one left was-

The Marine spotted a cloaked figure kneeling atop an elevated platform aiming a bow at him.

OH SHIT! BOOM!!

An explosive arrow detonated in the Marine’s vicinity and he looked up as the active cloak wore off to reveal the Auspex aiming a Predator Bow at him. The weapon was formed out of the warrior’s living biofybril suit, a symbiotic synthetic organism of alien origin which was covered in organic spikes, metallic elbow blades, and two vivid yellow-red eyes staring from the suit’s shoulder pylons. The Auspex blazed towards the Marine in a stream of crimson energy as it reconfigured the bow into a machine gun that fired bullet-like teeth before switching to a laser cannon. The Marine picked up an armor cuirass to tank some of the searing damage as he approached and slung over the revving chainsaw on his back.

“Maximum armor.”

The Auspex crossed his arms as his suit developed a hard plated exterior that blocked the Marine’s chainsaw, the buzzing teeth grinding loudly against the warrior’s armored forearms. The Marine caught a glint of red light and rushed back a fraction of a second before the two blades swung outwards at his face and the Auspex grabbed hold of the wicked red single-edged longswords.

“Maximum speed!” CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! The Auspex dashed left and right around the Marine in a crimson blur, slashing his longswords at the Marine who could barely follow their movements to evade in time or block with his bracers.

“MAXIMUM STRENGTH!” In a flash, the Auspex joined both swords together at the hilt to form a massive pair of battle scissors as his suit bulked up with additional musculature, and he slammed the scissor blades shut around the Marine’s waist. BOOM! The Marine’s additional armor instantly shattered and he stumbled back with critically low health, but he wasn’t out of the game yet. He switched to his super shotgun and aimed it at the Auspex.

“Maximum speed!”

The Auspex dashed out of the way of the attack and began strafing around the Marine, becoming a crackling crimson blur as he occasionally slashed out to try and finish the Marine off, which he deftly blocked with his bracers.

CLANG CLANG!

The Marine remained in place but his eyes followed the racing Auspex. There was a pattern in his movement, a regularity to his attacks. He just had to wait, and…

STRIKE!

He spun around at lightning speed and shot the Auspex point-blank in the chest with the super shotgun. The warrior was thrown back by the force of the blast with his eviscerated biofybril suit roaring in agony, but both were still alive. The Marine did not stop and followed his attack with a railgun bolt and rocket blast while closing the distance. He grabbed the chainsaw and thrust it into the Auspex’s chest, he and his biofybril suit roaring as the grinding teeth ate through armor and bone. Pulling the chainsaw free, the Marine reached back and thrust his hand into the wound before pulling it back out with the Auspex’s beating heart in his hand, a throbbing organ wrapped in shimmering red biofybrils.

CRUSH!

There was a splattering sound and the Auspex stopped fighting. He stood on his feet a moment longer before tilting back, an approving glint on the warrior’s visor.

“Not bad...” Slam!

The warrior fell to the ground in a wide swirl of dust, and the Marine respectfully bowed his head in acknowledgement as the Forsworn crowd erupted with applause. Fourteen down, one to go.

He turned around to find the Hellfire Spartan standing a distance away, with full health and a black hilt in his hand. The soldier did not move but the Marine understood why. He stepped away from the dissipating corpse of the Auspex and calmly picked up a large medpack to restore his health. The Arena Eternal then erupted with a thunderous gladiatorial theme as the two opponents faced off against each other, and the Forsworn crowd clamored in excitement.

“This is it, Slayer. The moment of truth.

Are you one of the wolves, or just a lamb to the slaughter?”

The Marine scowled as he kicked a weapon from the ground into his hands, and the Hellfire Spartan ignited his flaming red energy sword. The Marine gripped the gravity hammer and switched on its rocket thrusters. The hammer’s shockwaves had range but the energy sword could kill him in a single strike.

In a flash the Spartan grappled into the air and soared towards the Marine with brandished Bloodblade. The Marine strafed around the soldier’s arc and timed his strike before slamming the hammer into the ground, but the Spartan slung himself out of the way before the gravity shockwave struck him. The Marine shifted his grip on the hammer and fired its thrust jets to spin it around and slam it downwards again, releasing a shockwave that struck the flanking Spartan and threw him over the edge but didn’t kill him.

The Marine leapt after the tumbling soldier and raised his hammer over his head for the finishing blow.

I’m a champion for real! Every court, every field!

But the Spartan returned to alertness and rolled to dodge the shockwave. He shot his grapple past the Marine and darted towards him with outstretched Bloodblade but the Marine blocked the strike with the hammer handle, the flaming energy sword sparking as it glanced against metal, but the Spartan released his grapple and spun on his heel to strike at the Marine’s heart. Anticipating the attack, the Marine changed the position of his hammer and caught the sword between its dual blades, pinning it against the handle. He pushed against the Spartan, but the soldier was just as strong and the two locked weapons as the searing tips of the energy sword seemed to inch closer to the Marine’s heart.

Thinking quick, the Marine stopped pushing on the hammer head while slinging past the blade and slamming the handle into the Spartan’s helmet. The disoriented soldier stumbled past and the Marine twisted both weapons out of their reach and tossed them aside. The gravity hammer clattered away and the energy sword sputtered and died. The Spartan turned to face the Marine with raised fists but the Marine was already delivering an uppercut at their chin.

BAMM! “AAAHH!”

Pow-pow BAMM! Pow-pow BAMM! The Marine repeated the same three-strike combo of two quick jabs to the Spartan’s solar plexi and ending with an uppercut. It was a brainless tactic but the Spartan had the advantage in hand-to-hand combat and the Marine wanted to stall and get some cheap hits, even if these were mitigated by the Spartan’s heavy armor.

Shing! Shing! A gleaming black knife suddenly flashed from the soldier’s grip and nicked the Marine’s helmet, causing him to back off. Shing! Shing! The Marine dodged left and right to avoid the glinting arcs of a vicious recurve knife before delivering a front kick at the Spartan to throw him back, but the Spartan swiftly attached the knife to his grappleshot and slung it forward at the Marine, who reflexively bent backwards to avoid the attack before he’d even consciously processed it. He strafed back to avoid the new combination attack but the knife whizzed and slinged past him as the Spartan followed. The Hellfire Spartan swung the grappled knife overhead in a downward arc and cleaved it into the ground a fraction of a second after the Marine had left that spot. He pulled the blade back and spun it around once, two, three times, the blade pushing the parrying Marine back and slicing through several support columns.

The ground shook as the arena structures began to crumble and the Spartan leapt downward to safety, but the Marine had an idea and rushed up the sliding rubble. He sidestepped a boulder, parried a broken axe trap and slid under a falling spike trap, until he saw the weapon sliding down towards him. He reached out to catch it and let the crumbling structure carry him back to the Spartan, who was waiting for him.

HSSSS! The Hellfire Spartan caught the fiery glow of the ignited energy sword and snatched the launched weapon out of the air, noticing too late the Marine had thrown it to distract from the ignited gravity hammer that now swung downwards towards the Spartan. The Spartan raised the energy sword but it was over.

I’m a champion for real!!

BOOOMMM!!

The hammer struck directly in front of the Spartan and released a shockwave that rendered his armor into scrap, shattering his visor and launching the defeated soldier back. The Forsworn crowd went silent, waiting for the soldier to get back up, but he didn’t.

The Marine lowered the gravity hammer and huffed in satisfaction. He’d won.

The Forsworn crowd erupted in thunderous applause, the glowing leaderboard marking its last participant and the conclusion of the deathmatch. The Arena cast a global healing field and the fallen warriors behind the Marine lumbered back to their feet, assisting each other up as their wounds healed, severed limbs reattached, and even atomized body parts reconstituted themselves. They gathered around the Marine and applauded his hard-earned victory, clapping him on the back and cheering his skills none the worse for the wear, though the Marine noticed the recovered Hellfire Spartan still sat on the ground a distance away, looking off into the distance. He looked down and found the Spartan’s recurve knife lying on the ground at his feet, severed from its grapple in the battle.

Bending down to pick it up, the Marine walked over to the Hellfire Spartan and offered his hand to the soldier, who looked up at him before taking it and standing back up. The Marine looked down at the recurve knife in his hands. A weathered and battle-scarred weapon no doubt made for a Spartan’s hand, with a chipped edge and REMEMBER REACH etched onto the handle.

He’d never have imagined such a small thing could be so heavy.

With a deep sense of understanding and respect, the Marine held the weapon out towards the Hellfire Spartan, who took it and returned it to the sheathe on his right shoulder. The Spartan then held his right hand out in a gesture of recognition, and the Marine firmly shook it.

“Well done, soldier.”

The Marine bowed his head in acknowledgement.

“Now go. The crowd awaits their champion.”

Cracking a smile beneath his helmet, the Marine stepped away from the Spartan to face the crowd, breathing in before raising his arms in victory.

Gunshots and magical flares shot from the stands as beings of all shapes and sizes rose from their seats and celebrated their victorious champion.

YESS!! YESS!! WHO IS YOUR CHAMPION??!!

The Marine basked in the praise and adoration of a hundred thousand admirers, feeling the glare of the Arena lights, the sting of drifting embers, the ache and sweat of his body, and the sweetness of glorious victory.

I AM YOUR CHAMPION!! I AM VICTORIOUS!!

Yells and roars of adoration washed over him like a storm. He spun around to gaze at rows of stands and seats rising ever higher above him and above the Arena, yet he felt as if on top of the world.

IS THERE ANYONE MAN ENOUGH LEFT TO CHALLENGE ME?? TO WAGE BATTLE IN THIS ARENA OF CHAMPIONS??

“...Ha ha HA HA!! I AM.”

A new voice suddenly thundered from the stands, and a shocked crowd grew silent as a golden figure soared from the commanders’ stand, passed through the protective shield, and landed within the Arena to reveal the towering muscular shape of Lieutenant Typhon, her full marine armor assembling around her and a golden aura giving the appearance of angelic wings.

A low rumble gradually rose from the surprised and growingly excited crowd, and the other Forsworn warriors beside him immediately cowered and bolted for the exit portal, but the Marine stood his ground with a determined smile.

“So you think you’re HOT SHIT, eh?”

The Marine was on critical health with no armor and almost no ammo, but he reloaded his super shotgun and without hesitation rushed into action. Typhon raised two whirring chainguns on both arms and lowered a marine pilot’s helmet over her face.

“LET’S SEE WHAT YOU’VE GOT!!”

* * *

“What the fuck is that?”

Elena and a tense Hiro stood behind the wary Skullhacker, the three of them peering around the corner of a hallway to gaze at the strange red shape in the distance. It was short, seemingly barely reaching up to their waists, bright red in color and gliding in a flowing manner across the ground as if it were made of liquid.

The Blackwatch Trooper cast no expression from his deathly visor, but Elena noticed him grip his Burst Rifle firmly.

“What is that, Skull?”

The soldier’s sentry drone displayed the answer on its face screen: Striga .

“Can you shoot it from here?”

SAM displayed a series of icons and diagrams on her screen, too fast for Hiro to follow, and he elbowed Elena for an explanation.

“What’s it saying?”

“That entity is too dangerous for Skull to face it with us here, and he doesn’t have the equipment to permanently eliminate it.”

“What do we do?”

SAM displayed a reversing arrow and a diagram of a path circumventing a glowing red dot.

“I see. Long way around.”

Skullhacker quietly backed away from the corner and beckoned the others to follow. Elena followed after the soldier but Hiro stayed back a moment to cast one final look at the Striga. From his distance he could spot two lanky red limbs dragging its sloshing body across the ground and a vibrant mass writhing in the air behind it.

Almost like the dismembered torso of some eerie being.

The bounty hunter scowled and hurried after the others.

* * *

The gate slid open to reveal a dusty chamber cluttered with metal scrap, tools, and equipment. The Marine, Hennya, and Rei stood at the doorframe as dust billowed past on air currents.

“This used to be the workshop of a fellow hunter we picked up some years back,” the Demon Warframe explained. “I think her name was… Smash? Slash? I didn’t really know her, but Rei here did. She used to tinker around with her stuff here, but decided to continue her journey on her own and no one has really used this chamber since.”

The Marine glanced across the relatively small workshop. The walls were riddled with bullet holes, disassembled firearms and empty beer bottles littering every surface, crescent-shaped knives still lodged in wall-mounted bullseyes. There were buzzsaws, lighters, pipe bombs, cigarettes, and the hanging smells of ash, sweat, alcohol, and radiation.

“ Ever on and on, I continue circling with nothing but my hate, in a carousel of agony…” Rei quietly sang with a distant expression.

“So, what do you think? Has the Slayer found a new man cave?”

The Marine stepped into the threshold and nodded.

It’ll do.

The Marine spent the next several days tidying and organizing the chamber into a respectable workshop. With the help of Grimm, Hennya, and a few other Forsworn, they disposed of the clutter, salvaged viable equipment, and even had Cygnis extract what turned out to be nothing less than an active makeshift nuclear reactor. They could hear the dragonoid’s hysterical laughter even through their radsuits long after he’d carried the whirring apparatus away.

Before long though, the Marine had a workspace. He organized pieces of metal framework, grabbed some tools, and began building a new suit of armor.

* * *

Rei skipped to where the Marine was working at a desk with his shotgun, various tools, and several empty red canisters lying in front of him. A half-assembled suit of armor, so far just the skeletal framework, beckoned from a station beside him.

What’s up?

“Whatcha doing?”

Making more shells for my shotgun.

“I’ve seen you use that gun before,” said the shrine maiden as she sat beside him. “What sort of weapon is this?”

Simple firearm. These cartridges are loaded with a bunch of these pellets called buckshot, which are dispersed in an angled burst when they leave the barrel.

“That’s all it does? No fire? No explosions? Not even some enhancing enchantments?”

Don’t knock it till you try it. Shotguns are probably the most important weapon in any warrior’s arsenal.

“I don’t get it. No one else here uses shotguns. What’s so special about them?”

The Marine glanced at the shrine maiden and cracked a grin. He rolled away from his desk, grabbed several long pieces of wood and metal, and began working.

Over the centuries, civilizations have tried many ways of combating the forces of Hell...magic, advanced technology, divine intervention.

Rei watched the Marine work, her eyes widening with wonder as the weapon took shape in his hands.

What no one seems to realize is that the humble shotgun works just fine. When you pull the trigger, and your buckshot sears through a shitbag’s sternum, there’s few thrills in this life greater than the one you feel at that moment, and few feelings more satisfying than the recoil of the shotgun in your hands.

Combat…is all about finding the right tool for the right job, and there’s few situations when the shotgun isn’t a viable option. Sweet, simple, reliable. Stopping power, high damage, works well at long range and even better at short range. At that distance, you can see the fear in a monster’s eyes as it perishes, the rage in your own being the last thing it ever sees.

Eat leaden death, demon…

The Marine finished assembling the weapon and held it out to the shrine maiden.

She’s all yours.

Rei took the simple single-barreled shotgun, her eyes sparkling with amazement.

“Is it really for me?”

The Marine nodded.

“Ah, you are the right tool for the right job!” She exclaimed at the weapon in her hands. “Thank you, Slayer!” The elated shrine maiden happily ran out of the workshop and into the hallway.

“Hi, Rei,” Hennya’s voice spoke from outside. “What do you have there?”

“A shotgun!”

“ NO!”

There were sounds of running and then silence, and footsteps raced towards the Marine’s workshop.

“DID YOU GIVE REI A SHOTGUN?” The furious Hennya shouted from the doorframe.

Yea, the Marine casually replied as he grabbed more crafting materials and resumed working.

“YOU CAN’T GIVE HER THAT!” she screamed. “IT’S NOT SAFE!”

It’s a shotgun. It’s not meant to be safe.

“SHE’S A KID!”

It’s educational.

“WHAT IF SHE HURTS HERSELF?”

… That will be a very important lesson.

Hennya stormed over to where the Marine was sitting. “I know you come from the Land of the Free and Home of the Trigger-Happy, but you can’t just give a nineteen-year-old a shotgun!”

Doesn’t she regularly fight out in the wastes against demons with the rest of you?

“THAT’S NOT THE PROBLEM!”

No. The problem is that she has a shotgun, and you don’t.

“I didn’t-”

Don’t worry, there’s plenty of crafting materials to go round. Shotguns for everybody!

“That’s not what I-”

Like Typhon once told me back on Mars: ‘Get that bitch a shotgun! Bitches love shotguns!’

“ What -!”

Here. Your own shotgun, go with God.

The Marine offered a different shotgun to the Demon Warframe, futuristic and double-barreled with a carved wooden stock, ornate metal finishings, and blue circuitry lights. Hennya fell silent.

“And what makes you think I want that?”

It’s better than that pea-shooter you carry for your secondary.

Hennya haughtily opened her mouth and cocked her tongue to one side. “If I wanted a shotgun, I could have one made by any of our weaponsmiths or crafting stations.”

But that shotgun won’t be hand-made by the Doom Slayer, specifically for you.

Hennya squinted at the Marine, before rolling her eyes and swiping the firearm from his hand.

“Fine. I’ll be sure to put it on a pedestal.”

That won’t do you any good. It’s meant to be used, not worshiped.

“Whatever, space dad.”

Watch it. Your Warframe might be packing, but you are short a hundred kilos of beefcake to talk to me like that. Your ass-to-sass ratio is in the negatives.

“EXCUSE-!”

“ IS IT TRUE?” Shouted a thrilled Cygnis as he stormed through the gate, startling both the Marine and Hennya. “ ARE YOU HANDING OUT SHOTGUNS?”

Uh…

“Can you make one for me too?! Make it a double-barrel! No, wait! Quadruple-barrel!

No, no, wait!

OCTUPLE-BARREL!”

The Hellfire Spartan barged against the Guncaster. “Slayer, are you building shotguns?”

Okay, woah, woah, woah! One at a time-

Woooooosh ding!

The crowd amassing both in and outside the Marine’s workshop silenced and turned to face the Cyber Angel which had dropped into their midst. The robot raised a hand and spoke in a comically synthesized voice.

“thIs mAchInE wOUld lIkE OnE shOtgUn, plEAsE.”

* * *

I blinked as the air in the Tei Tenga base grew unmistakably colder and damper. Looking up at the sign over an adjacent gate, I frowned in confusion at the strange name.

“‘Dry Dock’? What does that mean?”

“Processing deck for aquatic vessels,” came Colonel Johnson’s cool reply.

“Aquatic? I thought we were underground…on an alien moon.”

“Beneath Europa lies a subterranean sea that holds more water than all your Earth’s oceans combined. A thick layer of ice shelters the sea from the ravages of the cosmos, allowing the flourishing of life.”

“...There’s life here?”

“ Life…and death.”

I stood warily at the gate before passing through, entering an exchange deck populated entirely by automated systems. There were no demons or combat droids in the dock, though I kept an eye on my radar as I studied the machines obliviously whirring by. Robotic sleds transported submersibles into maintenance stations or towards other parts of the facility.

Looking close, I noticed almost all the submersibles were damaged. Tiny ocular probes no larger than my head bore bite marks, a medium-size drone the size of a person had a corroded chassis and melted gripper arms. I stopped in shock at a harrowing scene, a sizable vessel roughly ten meters in length, with an array of turrets and torpedo launchers, was being dismantled as its systems were clearly damaged beyond repair. Its sensor array was crushed and its weapon systems torn off, jagged claw marks torn through its hull and its components still sparking.

The back half, it’s missing…Something torn that sub in half.

I backed away from the scene but turned around as I felt a new presence, a source of energy emanating from a damaged drone atop a transport sled. I frowned in curiosity as I headed toward the drone, circumventing the other machines on the dock before I jumped onto the robotic sled, which paid me no mind.

The energy was coming from an artifact still clamped in one of the drone’s grippers. Drawing my Bronze Dagger, I pried the claws open and grabbed the bulbous green-blue relic, shaped like a conical spiral with luminous symbols. There was an arcane energy emanating from it, but…it didn’t feel like that of Hell.

“Colonel, what is this?”

“...”

“Colonel!”

No response. Grunting in frustration, I studied the peculiar artifact in my right hand before an image flashed in my mind, a vision of the relic being absorbed into my Leech Module to produce a brighter and stronger beam. I blinked in dismay at the sudden vision, before raising my left hand towards the artifact and activating my Leech Module, casting a bright green glow throughout the dock as the relic discharged energy into my hand before dissipating into particles and being absorbed entirely into it. As the glow faded, I clenched my hand before raising it and casting the Leech.

BZZZZZZZT!

The red beam struck the ground but fractured on impact into several other bolts which crackled and arced across nearby robots to electrify and stun them. An upgrade to my Leech Module.

There’s something else… I thought to myself as I pondered the peculiar artificiality of the vanished relic, and the distinctiveness of its power compared to Hell’s corruption.

There’s something else on Europa besides just alien fish. Something with power. Something… that would carve symbols… smart.

A multitude of red markers on my radar drew my attention. A platoon of combat droids headed by three snakelike ARGUS units. I hissed in aggravation and rushed through a hall labeled “Dig Site 07.”

* * *

Thank you for agreeing to train me, Master Wan. I thought I’d never be done with all those shotguns.

“My pleasure. Though I usually don’t train students that have attempted to kill me,” the warrior monk added.

The Marine winced. I apologize for that.

The monk scoffed and smiled, his previously deathly wounds healed and fully restored. “Don’t worry, it’ll take more than that to kill me.

What would you like to learn?”

The two stood facing each other in the Arena Eternal, the traps and hazards retracted to leave them in a wide flat clearing.

I wish you to teach me the technique behind your Sundering Blow, just as you taught the Imperator.

“And why would you wish to learn such a technique?”

The Marine blinked in confusion.

“It’s a serious question. What was the reasoning by which you decided to learn this power? What is it you hope to gain?”

The Marine lowered his head and thought for a moment.

I want to learn…how to kill any demon in one punch.

“Hmm. I see. So when you look at me, all you see is a fist, that strikes down everything in one blow?”

N-no, that’s not what I-

“But you do. You know nothing of who I am, where I am from, or what I believe. You think learning a new power is like acquiring a new gun. Just pick it up, aim it at the bad guys, and pull the trigger. Easy as that?”

The Marine looked down. It was true. By his nature he had innate talent with any weapon that could possibly exist, and he had never struggled to use the powers he’d received as the Slayer. And he’d never bothered to learn new abilities before.

“The technique behind my fighting is not one of brute strength. It’s not just a matter of mastering the body, but mastering the mind as well,” Wan explained as he threw punches into the air to demonstrate. “There is deliberation in every movement, thought behind every action. To learn the fighting, you must first learn the thinking. There is a reason why they’re called martial arts.

If you wish to wage war, you must first learn the art of war.”

The Marine stared. Do I have to become a monk and meditate in a cave for fifty years?

“HAHAHAHA! No, HA! I don’t think that would be very productive!” Wan suddenly burst into laughter, alleviating the Marine’s concern. “Neither you nor I have the time for something like that. Besides…heh heh.

No, I don’t think that would be the right approach. You certainly have the strength to perform my Sundering Blow and you might even be able to learn it quickly, but it won’t be by following my path.

Tell me, have you ever wondered why a monk such as myself decided to take up arms? Why I decided to become a warrior?”

… It did cross my head once or twice. I thought you’d be all nonviolent and Zen and stuff. And yet, you’re one of the most powerful warriors I’ve ever known.

“It’s because of my thinking. I imagine you’re somewhat familiar with the concept of nirvana, right? Transcendence, peace, ultimate enlightenment?”

The Marine nodded.

“Where I come from, there is a similar concept: Sunyata. Nothingness. Emptiness. Detachment from the self and from the world. Some consider it a form of nirvana, the perfect enlightenment.

But in fact, nothing could be further from the truth. Sunyata is not just detachment, it is dissociation.

It is not enlightenment, but the darkness of nihilism.”

The Marine raised his eyebrows in understanding.

The power of the Void.

“Yes.”

That is how you were immune to the Scylla’s attacks. That is how you were able to resist my Berserk. That is how you were able to counter both of us. Because the Void is negation.

That is how you were able to teach the Imperator, because he was already a Voidwalker.

“I have mastered the philosophy of sunyata. But my student, the one you know as the Imperator, is perhaps the strongest Voidwalker this reality has ever seen.

And he was able to take my technique and make it his own.”

And to perform your Sundering Blow, must I accept the Void into myself?

“You already have. That day when you razed an entire legion of Nuclear Godkillers and brought down a demonic armada by yourself, what did you feel?”

… At first I felt anger and grief, but then I felt detachment. Indifference. Nothingness.

“The Void is already in you. But don’t worry, you don’t have to become a Voidwalker like the Imperator or a monk like myself. Knowing the Void at least once is good enough.

Now, all you need to do is reach it.”

How do I do that?

“By looking into yourself and finding what causes your feelings of emptiness,” Wan explained as he clenched his fists together, taking up a combat pose. “Find it, focus it, and…”

FWOOOSH!

“Let it go.”

The Marine’s jaw dropped. The blast wave released from the monk’s fist cleared a trench of devastation through the Arena and only stopped upon reaching the shimmering field around the battleground.

“Now you try.”

The Marine nodded and settled himself into the combat stance he’d seen Wan take. He breathed in and focused on bringing back those harrowing sensations he’d felt in the battlefield. The grief, the despair, the futility. He focused it, much like he focused his rage into his Blood Punch, and-

Woosh. His fist thrust through the air and released a small gust of wind, but no shockwave.

“As I expected.”

What?! The Marine flared with rage. You knew I’d fail?!

“Failure is the first step on the path to success. The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”

Why don’t you drop the kung-fu horseshit and TELL ME WHAT THE PROBLEM IS?!

“That,” the monk calmly pointed at the furious Marine. “ Precisely that. You can’t achieve detachment because you’re being held down. By your mission, your newfound purpose, your rage.

How can you detach yourself from the world if these still tie you down to it?”

I can’t let go of that. The whole reason I’m learning from you is to get the strength I need to finish my mission.

“I never said you had to let them go. You might not be able to achieve conventional detachment, but you could find an alternate source of emptiness.”

Like what?

“Why do you fight? Why do you wish to complete your mission?

What emptiness is it you hope to fill?”

Emptiness…what emptiness was he running away from?

He was running from the ultimate failure, the failure of not protecting Earth from Hell. The vision of Earth’s skyscrapers crumbling, the ashes of humanity sifting through his fingers and Hell expanding across a dead universe…he never wanted to feel that sensation again. That endless, sinking pit of desolation.

He’d never let it happen.

The Marine frowned and took up the combat stance, focused his mind into his fist, and punched.

BOOM!

AAAH!

The Marine’s fist released an explosion of energy that knocked him back and across the ground with a singed suit, but the unharmed monk slammed his staff against the floor.

“Again!”

* * *

The survivors marched through the dim corridors, their boots quietly scuffing against the ceramic flooring and broken glass. Exposed pipes leaked steam and water which accumulated in puddles across the Lazarus Labs.

The team splashed in the ankle-deep water for several minutes before a presence suddenly flashed upon Elena’s mind.

“There’s something coming at us!” She pointed at a hallway beside them as the two soldiers swiftly raised their firearms at the heavy thumping sound charging at them from the darkness. The splashes entered the room and were illuminated by the dim lights, but no creature was revealed.

“Huh?”

“ RAWWWRR!”

Romero briefly pondered before the Skullhacker dashed into him and knocked him out of the way. BAMM! The splashes passed through where Romero had been briefly before and something heavy slammed against the reinforced walls and growled in pain, but remained invisible.

Both soldiers opened fire at the creature with their rifles, but their attacks fizzled or sparked against the invisible shape with no signs of damage. There was a sudden hiss and the splashes rushed once more in their direction, and the soldiers split and leapt onto elevated piles of rubble to avoid the charge. BAMM!

“Both of you, stop!” Elena suddenly yelled. “Don’t move!”

“Wha-!” Romero started to question, but he quickly fell silent as he too noticed.

Their invisible attacker had slammed into another wall and growled in pain, but as it seemingly returned to its senses, it released soft puzzling snorts. The position of four splashes in the water suggested a quadrupedal creature turning around and sniffing the air, but it turned towards the two men and then mysteriously seemingly past them. Almost as if paying them no attention. Elena pointed at the shape and covered her eyes to explain, but the men could understand.

The creature was blind.

Elena was on the other side of the sniffling monster, opposite the men. Romero motioned for her to quietly step through the water and follow them. She took one foot off the staircase she’d retreated towards and put a foot in the water, to the monster’s immediate notice.

“HNNFF!!” Four invisible legs splashed through the puddles and hurried to Elena’s position, and she panickedly pulled her foot out and cowered against the staircase. Romero almost screamed in horror, but the splashes stopped before they reached the stairs and something sniffed at the base of the first step, seemingly lapping the disturbed water.

Romero quietly sighed and turned towards the Skullhacker, but the mysterious soldier was no longer by his side.

Splash splash splash!

The skull-faced trooper was wading through the pool several meters away, purposefully causing a disturbance to draw attention towards himself and away from the survivors.

“Rawwwrr!”

The monster charged at the Blackwatch Trooper but this phased through the splashes and returned to the survivors, taking care to leap across dry rubble before maneuvering to Elena’s position and holding his hand out.

Romero noticed the soldier had wrapped his gauntlets in torn cloth.

The scientist took Skullhacker’s hand and this hurriedly led her through the treacherous space. Loose rubble crumbled at their feet and slid into the water, prompting growls from the hallway, but the two successfully passed through and reached Romero’s location without alerting their stalker.

Romero signaled for them to move on, and reaching back he inadvertently pressed the gate access panel behind him. The door slid open with a loud splash and HISSS.

“ RAWWWRR!!”

“HURRY! MOVE! GET IN!”

The trio rushed through the open gate as the charging splashes drew nearer before Skullhacker slammed the panel on the opposite wall and the mechanical doors slammed shut just as something crashed into them.

BAMM! BAM BAM!

“RAWWWRR!!”

Skullhacker pressed his hand again to the panel and the security locks sealed the hatch. Romero thought he could read HACK MODULE OVERRIDE on the access panel, but though the door dented and claw marks appeared through the metal, the gate held and stayed shut.

“ Hrrrr…”

The creature growled, but the sound of splashing indicated it was moving away in abject defeat.

“Hahhh…We did it.” Elena sighed in relief.

“That thing’s still out there. We should take care to avoid flooded areas for now.”

“Beep-whoop!”

A whistle drew their attention to Skullhacker and his sentry drone standing by an open gate on the other side of the room. The floor was elevated and dry.

“Let’s go, Hiro.”

Elena followed the soldier. Romero stood for another moment at the door, glancing at the claw marks visible through the metal.

They almost seemed like from human hands.

* * *

“Again!”

BOOM!

The Marine was knocked back to the ground yet again after hours of unsuccessful attempts to unleash a Sundering Blow. His training armor was scorched by the ordeal, the ground was seared with blast marks, and Master Wan shook his hand in disappointment.

“I think you and I have it all wrong.”

You THINK?! The Marine groaned as he sat up.

“I imagined you’d be able to synergize your rage with your emptiness, much as the Imperator does, but I don’t think you can. The Imperator is not just a warlord but a philosopher in his own right, and your rage is simply too strong and raw to be bound by your thoughts, or even your desolation.”

STOP COMPARING ME TO THE IMPERATOR!!

The monk flinched from the sudden outburst, and the Marine felt an immediate wave of guilt from the monk’s hurt expression.

I’m…I’m sorry.

The monk nodded in understanding.

Look, what if that’s not the reason? I have my own shtick as the Slayer: I run fast and shoot hard. That’s it.

What if I’m simply not meant to learn new powers?

“Oh, Slayer,” Master Wan started with a smile, “that’s not true at all. None of us exist in a vacuum, we constantly learn and develop from one another. You didn’t have the power to Glory Kill in your first foray into Hell, did you? You weren’t immortal, you didn’t have the Praetor Suit or power of Runes, and yet when you did receive them, you were still you, weren’t you?

People are like flames, we’re constantly changing. We’re entirely different persons from one day to the next, from one moment to another, and yet, we remain the same.”

Huh. That actually makes sense.

“Where I come from, our teachings say that separation between the self and the world is an illusion. The honorable Warden, in fact, is a great example. The four elements she bends appear disunited, but in reality they are one. Four aspects of the same natural world.

Just like that, you, me, everyone on this ship and every soul, mind, and being across existence are, in fact, one.”

The Marine was lost again.

…I don’t see how that helps.

“Actually, it may be the most helpful thing we’ve brought up yet,” the monk added with sudden pensiveness. “Perhaps you shouldn’t see your opponents as entities separate from you, but fundamentally linked to you.

To defeat the enemy you should first know the enemy, and to know the enemy, you must know yourself.”

The Marine sighed. All this philosophizing was making his head hurt.

I just want to become stronger.

“Honestly,” sighed the monk as he sat down beside the Marine, “getting strong is overrated. Having overwhelming strength is pretty boring.

You shouldn’t get too strong because then you can’t grow anymore. And if you can’t grow anymore, you can’t enjoy growing either.”

Is that what happened to you?

Master Wan shrugged his shoulders. “There will always be evil, there will always be darkness in this world. That’s never changed in the past and won’t in the future. You’d think I’d be more engaged in fighting injustice across dimensions, and yet, I’ve never felt more distant. These days I don’t feel much of anything.

I feel…nothing.

In exchange for ultimate power, perhaps I lost something integral to my humanity? I get no thrill from fighting because I know it’ll only take one punch for me to win. When I fight, my heart’s just not in it anymore.

I said I was a hero for fun, but if I don’t find it fun anymore, what’s the point?”

The Marine was astonished. He hadn’t imagined someone with ultimate power could possibly be disillusioned with having it. Wan was righteous, he was invincible, and he was unstoppable. He was supposed to be the ultimate hero!

But what should he say? What could he say?

Have you…traveled…across Creation? He ultimately decided to ask.

“Not really. I’ve done some travels here and there but, for the most part, I meditate at my temple.”

Do you have companions? The Marine asked with a frown.

“Enlightenment requires detachment from the world and from others.”

I’m guessing you don’t have a personal mission either? He raised an eyebrow.

“No.”

That’s your problem. You’re bored and yet you refuse to do anything. You seek stimulation but refuse to challenge yourself. You can’t be all Zen and expect life to right itself for you, you must take initiative and make it right yourself.

“Slayer, you don’t understand. These teachings are the way of my people. I learned under some of the wisest masters in history, with wisdom dating back thousands of years.”

That’s precisely it. You’re so entrenched in the teachings of the past that you’re not looking to your own future. You’re so loyal to your old masters that you won’t carve your own path. You’re searching for enlightenment and detachment from the world while simultaneously seeking the thrill of a fight. You’re pulling yourself in two different directions and tearing yourself apart.

A wave of realization swept over the monk’s eyes.

Look, I may not know centuries-old kung-fu wisdom, but I know a thing or two about emptiness. We all may feel lost at some point or another, and that’s fine. What’s not fine is to not try to do anything about it. The key to overcoming emptiness is small steps, one a day. You won’t change today, and you won’t change tomorrow, but in time you will, and eventually you’ll find your way back.

To say there’s no more room for you to grow, that’s simply shallow. It’s arrogant. You may have trained your body and mind to the highest levels, but you haven’t trained your heart at all. True greatness isn’t about acquiring ultimate power, it’s about becoming the best possible version of yourself.

I think you’ve mistaken becoming physically strong with reaching your true potential. I know what it’s like to chase the heat of a fight, but to fight with purpose and for the benefit of others…that’s what it truly means to be a hero. And in that respect, you’re still not the ultimate hero.

The monk’s lips parted in surprise.

Perhaps you’re searching for all the wrong things. Perhaps you feel empty because detachment from the world was never meant for you. Instead of spiritual enlightenment, perhaps what you need is personal fulfillment.

Perhaps the true enemy you seek, your greatest foe…is your own weakness.

Wan looked away. He was silent for a moment and then scoffed. “I once said that human beings are strong because we can change ourselves. Looks like I never applied that to myself.”

The monk looked up at the light descending from above the Arena.

“The tallest mountain started as a stone,” he quietly recited, “ I once was weak but now I’ve grown…

But this is who I am. This is my nature. If I change, who will I be then?”

I guess that’s for you to find out. We change and yet we stay the same, no?

You’ll have to find your own path, just like the rest of us.

“Did you really come up with all that yourself?” The monk asked with a smirk.

No. I read it once in a fortune cookie, the Marine replied sarcastically.

“Heh heh heh heh…”

A really LONG fortune cookie.

“HA HA HA HA HA HA!!”

The monk clapped the Marine on the back and practically threw him to the ground, but the Marine allowed himself to chuckle.

“Thank you for that, Slayer. Looks like even the teacher has one or two things left to learn.

My old master was right. In learning we teach, and in teaching we learn.”

Heh.

I guess we do.

“Now that I think about it,” the monk suddenly started as he shot back up, “I might still be able to help you! I may not be able to teach you my Sundering Blow just yet, but I know something else you’ll find useful!”

What is it?

“A technique that'll double your basic melee damage.”

The Marine’s eyes widened and he rose to his feet as well.

Are you serious?

“Have you heard the phrase ‘the hand is quicker than the eye’? You do not follow your eyes, for they can deceive you. You follow your mind. You already perform this, in fact, when you anticipate attacks instead of reacting to them.

Instead of defensively, you now do it offensively. In your case, through a passive version of your Clearsight.” Wan exclaimed with determined excitement, taking up a mock boxing pose to demonstrate. “If you focus on a single enemy and seek out the weak points in their defenses, you can target these and deliver even more power into every punch, dealing greater damage even without advanced hand-to-hand combat training. You do not look for these weak points, you anticipate where they will be.

Considering the many durable and armored foes you’ll be fighting when you continue your journey, I’m thinking you’ll find this most appealing.”

And in his current state especially, the Marine realized.

All right! Let’s do it!

Suddenly remembering, the Marine held out his hands in front of himself and placed his fist against an open palm, bowing his head in respect.

… Master.

Wan stared amazed for a moment, eyes glistening with pride before bowing his head too and returned the gesture.

* * *

- and that’s why melee-only demons cannot initiate infighting.

“Oh my GOD, big guy, you’ve been at this for half an hour!” A tired Grimm exclaimed as the two strolled the corridors after an arduous training session in the Arena.

Don’t slam the infighting tactic! Demons are already opposed to each other by their sheer chaotic nature! Exploiting it is key to saving ammo and handling large mobs.

“I knowww! Kinda hard to forget when you’ve been reciting the demon combat textbook for the past thirty minutes!”

Lost Souls forget their target after attacking and Pain Elementals don’t cause aggros with their summoned familiars.

“AAAH!” The soldier yelled in exasperation, and the Marine smirked.

The two jumped back as a group of Forsworn soldiers rushed past, joining a crowd amassing in a communal hall.

“What’s all the ruckus for?”

“New items at the cosmetic shops!” Someone called out.

New what at the what?

“Let’s check it out.”

The two elbowed their way through the crowd, coming face-to-face to a Hellhound Spartan standing at a holographic kiosk, a number of small items floating on the table in front of her.

What in the fuck are those?

“Weapon charms!” The helmetless soldier replied surprisingly cheerfully, an A54 on her red and white armor, her short white bob cut contrasting sharply with her dark skin, and her Hellhound ears happily perked up.

… What.

“They’re a thing where I’m from. Little decorations to give your weapons a unique and personal flair!”

The Marine looked at her with a deadpan expression.

That is the f-

“NEAT!” An excited Grimm interrupted as he rushed forward. “Whatcha got?!”

“Just some basic stuff, still messing around with the rendering programs. The crafting stations weren’t really intended for these things, you know!

But I got this orbital ring, a station monitor, energy sword, a confetti skull, a low-poly rat, ha! This one’s my favorite, a little dumpster with animated fire effects! Isn’t it cute?!”

… What’s that one supposed to be? He pointed at a blue crystalline octahedron.

“This one? It’s a hyperangular alien. Turn it on, it’ll topologically shift and even scream geometrically.” Click.

Scream wha-

“ AAAAAAA!!”

AAAAGGHH! Turn it off!

Click. “This one’s exotic.”

Mmm.

“But for you, Mr. Slayer, I have a special item. The other girls are shy, but we dearly appreciate what you’ve done for the Jericho, and especially our noble commander. He hasn’t been the same since the Fall of…well, we remember the fallen.”

The Spartan reached below the kiosk and pulled something wrapped in black cloth.

“Please accept this humble token of our respect, and gratitude.”

The Marine hesitantly took the package, unwrapping it to find a metallic half-circle with two triangular modules on the upper curve.

It took him a second to process what they were.

Uh-

“A modular comm transceiver compatible with most helmets.”

Umm-

The Forsworn around him began to snicker, and even the Spartan’s mouth lightly curled in a sly smirk.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

“Fully customizable circuit lights. Amplifies sound reception and can even be used as speakers.”

These are wolf ears!

“Yeah! A symbol of the Hellhound fireteams! Stylish, aren’t they?

Way better looking than the cat versions, I’ll say… ”

Grimm broke out into laughter and clapped the Marine’s shoulder as he stared incredulously at the attachment in his hands.

Listen, lady-!

“Neeves.”

… Look, NEEVES. I appreciate the gesture but I’m not using something as ret- as silly as this.

Dunno about you but I’ve got my testosterone count to think about.

The Spartan crossed her arms and raised a stern eyebrow.

“‘Silly’?

Mr. Slayer, we Hellhound Spartans bear our wolf aspect with the highest dignity. Our fireteams are more than our squads: they are our packs, and family.

Did the ancient Vikings not wear wolfskin pelts? Did your Night Sentinels not have wolf helmets?

Though our appearance remains human, our hearts and blood are those of the wolf. We live, we fight, and we die as hunters. With fury, honor, and pride to the end.”

Hmm.

The Spartan took the attachment from his hands. “We do not bestow this emblem lightly, as you are the first outsider to ever be offered it.

But your qualities commend you all the same. You hunt with no pack, yet fight with the same rage, fire, and honor.

You are the Lone Wolf.”

… Huh.

Neeves reached over and placed the attachment over his training helmet, listening to the sounds of it fastening and synchronizing with his suit.

The Lone Wolf.

“ Heyheyhey, Slayer!” Cygnis hollered from a nearby kiosk with a kebab in his mouth. “ Cute ears!”

The Forsworn crowd burst into laughter, with Grimm bent over in breathless guffawing as the Marine felt his face boiling in embarrassment.

“Heh, they suit you quite well,” Neeves added.

Yeah yeah, whatever, he chided as he took the ears off and picked up his companion, but discreetly hung the attachment on his belt. Come on, slick. Time to go.

“Wait wait wait!” The soldier hurried deeper into the market. “Let’s see what else they have!”

Do we have to-

“So long, Slayer!” Neeves waved behind.

The two soldiers headed deeper into the bustling market, which seemed more like a lively bazaar than an adapted chamber of a grim Hellship. The multitude of kiosks and vendor stalls were improvised and starkly different - ranging from simple scrap racks to advanced technological platforms, all of them surrounded by Forsworn and filled with items of every shape and size. They passed the Hellfire Spartan demonstrating different armor modules and coatings on a companion at a customization stall, the Cyber Angel peeking over a cage of glowing green rodents, two medieval warriors haggling over the price of hellmare armor, even a kiosk offering customized helmets shaped like demon heads.

Hmm. That Caco one isn’t half bad…

The Marine stopped at a heavy weapons stall, eyeing the plethora of chainguns, machine guns, and autocannons. Sitting behind with arms crossed was a soldier in drab blue gunmetal armor, an S20_TBL on his suit and staring coolly at the Marine with his cycloptic red visor.

The Marine frowned but moved on.

What are they even using as money?

“Crafting tokens!” Grimm yelled back, showing off a small hexagonal chip from his pocket. “The crafting stations can make just about anything but their use is highly moderated. Not that death is a big deal but it’d be hard getting anything done if everyone’s nuking each other with singularity bombs.”

They sell those??

The Marine passed a dual platform attended by a trio of Hellhound Spartans and the three Ironsbane Guardians. To his surprise, the helmetless Spartans had the identical faces of three women with ashen skin, low wolf ears rising from shaggy white hair, and fiery ember eyes. Triplets. The three-headed wolf emblem on their armors indicated a Cerberus Unit.

The Cerberus Spartans displayed interactive holograms to prospective Forsworn, which the Marine realized were personal AIs. Beside them, the three Guardians displayed custom physical shells for those AIs, in the shape of small levitating spheres not unlike the UAC’s Oculi. The most popular seemed to be a shell in the shape of a purple alien attack vehicle.

“The Forsworn get assigned tokens from completing their missions and duties, but Tyri mentioned the higher-ups were considering different currency and regulations for cosmetics and non-essential stuff like this.”

The Marine unexpectedly brushed against the shoulder of the Black Knight, finding the grim warrior accompanied by an AI in the shell of a bright fairy-like cherub.

“He talked me into it,” the gruff soldier muttered before moving on, leaving a puzzled Marine gazing after him.

“Hi, Slayer!”

The Marine almost tripped over Rei, who carried two sawn-off shotguns on her belt in addition to the one he’d gifted her on her back, and in her hands was a-

What the fuck are you holding??

The shrine maiden looked down and happily raised the stuffed toy at his face.

“Plushie! They’re selling these!” Pressing against his visor was a miniature felt version of the shrine maiden, with a short stubby body, comically oversized head and eyes, and a deadpan expression.

“Aww she’s adorable, Rei!” Grimm exclaimed as he ruffled the maiden’s hair bow.

How old did you say you were??

“You know, you can make your own over there! You could make a plush of yourself if you wanted to!”

DO I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING-!

“There’s also action figures.”

…Eh whatever, I’ll take a look. Come on, slick! The Marine quickly snatched Grimm’s collar.

“Woah!”

The Marine headed to where indicated, finding none other than Hennya sitting at a production kiosk with rows of stuffed toys and action figures arranged on display racks.

So much for the ‘Demon’ Warframe.

“Hey there, boys! Fancy meeting you here!”

Whaddaya got?

“Ooh, looking for anything in particular?

I’ve got soldiers, aliens, demons, mechs, vehicles, ships. Painted, unpainted, unassembled. You want a figure of the High Three or one of the top commanders? If you get them to autograph it, it’d be worth quite a bit-”

Is that me?

The Marine grabbed a stuffed toy soldier with an unmistakable green armor and helmet.

“Well, it’s not that one-three-three-seven guy, that’s for sure…” Hennya muttered as she rolled her eyes, but the Marine was focused on the toy.

Hmm...stitching seems decent. Colors are mostly okay, that’s the wrong shade of green here.

“More like Gloom Slayer.”

Needs attachable plush weapons too, the shotgun and plasma rifle especially. Weight is good, and the consistency…

He pressed the toy’s body, which to his surprise produced a synthetic voice recording in a comically gruff yet high-pitched tone.

“Go fuck yourself!”

He stood completely still before pressing the toy again.

“Dig the prowess! The capacity for violence!”

…

“ Ooh, here it comes! Here comes the night train!”

…

“There’s nothing wrong with you that I can’t fix…WITH MY HANDS!”

…

“Who’s the man? I’m the man! I’m a bad man! How bad? REEEAL bad...”

The Marine almost indistinctly angled his head towards Hennya.

That’s not what I sound like.

“PFFFFT hahaha! Well, what do you sound like?”

W- Not like that! I- wha- It’s not even supposed to say anything!

“All my friends said one-liners would be more marketable. They even suggested their own voice lines.”

They WHA-!

“Suffering builds character!”

The flabbergasted Marine turned to the toy in his hand, which had spoken without him pressing it.

“ Therapy is for WUSSES!”

The fuck is this shit?

“Quality control not guaranteed,” a smug Hennya muttered.

“ I’m rude and antisocial and ill-tempered all the time!”

This feels REALLY reductive.

“Flanderized,” Rei spoke up beside him.

Wha??

The shrine maiden aloofly held her plush in front of her.

“A friend of mine came up with it. ‘Flanderization.’

It’s when someone’s character trait is amplified and exaggerated until it defines their entire person.”

“Big guy, you’ve been flanderized! Hahaha!”

You didn’t know that word five fucking seconds ago!

“ If I have to go through any more character development, my character is gonna develop into a villain!”

I HAVE NEVER FUCKING SAID THAT!!

"I call my friends slurs because I feel bad about myself!"

WHO THE FUCK CAME UP WITH THESE?!

"I don't speak because I don’t want people to know how funny my voice is!"

…

“You know, it’s perfectly okay if you do have a funny voice,” Rei spoke up. “You shouldn’t feel ashamed or insecure about it, it makes you unique and special!”

The Marine slowly turned to glare at her, but she only raised her plush and playfully bobbed it in front of his visor.

… Hey kid, the Marine calmly began as he gently placed the Slayer toy on the rack. Why don’t we try one of these Caco helmets on you for size?

“The…cacodemon ones?”

Sure! He exclaimed in an overly bright tone, causing Hennya to raise an eyebrow as he pulled one of the bulbous custom helmets from the adjacent rack, keeping an eye on the distracted vendor. Red’s your color, isn’t it? I think this one will fit you juuust right.

“Big guy,” a wary Grimm began, “what are you up to?”

How does that feel? He asked as he carefully placed the demon helmet atop the shrine maiden. Snug? Comfy? Protective?

“Uhh, I guess?”

Good! Good, that’s good.

Hey, pass me one of your catalogs, will you? The big one, right there.

“Hey, this is actually pretty cool!” Rei exclaimed as the Marine reached over and grabbed a thick paperback booklet, rolling it into a tube. “Feels weird but the teeth around the edge are a cool touch-”

“BIG GUY!”

Rei turned just in time to see the Marine swing the thick paper tube at her helmeted head.

WHACK!!

* * *

The Marine fastened another piece of plating to the armor he was constructing, but he sighed and tossed the wrench away. He stood up and crossed his arms as he looked at the almost-completed armor. He was building it as a viable replacement for the Praetor Suit for the time being, more combat-ready than his Arena training suit, but he felt it was missing something.

A certain… something.

Ugh, he’d recovered enough to be able to run in combat, but Rampage was still out of his reach. He needed to come up with an alternate form of enhanced movement. He sat down to think on his short rolling trolley, but the device snapped and dropped him onto the floor.

FUCK!

The Marine angrily threw one fragment of the trolley across the workshop and prepared to throw the other one, until he took a second look at it and stopped. Long flat shape, two pairs of short wheels on either side.

It almost looked like a skateboard.

Frowning in curiosity, he locked the wheels to spin long-ways only and set the board down before stepping onto it. He kept his balance and warily pushed himself along. He reached the end of the workshop and exhaled humorously.

Spinning around, he rolled the skateboard onto the ground and leapt onto it, pushing himself faster until reaching the end and rolling around the wall before spinning to a halt by braking on the skateboard’s back end.

Fuck yeah.

The Marine bent down on the board and kickflipped upward to land atop it once more.

All of Hell trembles at his WICKEDNESS!

He skated along the floor and jumped over a box of tools to grind along the wall railings, the board’s wheels releasing sparks as they grated against the metal.

Flip. And shred. Until it is done!

He jumped off the railing and skated along his work stations, jumping over the deck gaps and blithely strewing tools and equipment to the floor in his recklessness.

And those that witnessed the flight of his board named him…the Doom Skater!

The Marine flipped off the desk to continue skating on the floor, but his board caught on the strewn wrench and broke its front axle to toss him through the wall.

AAAAHHH- CRASH!

The Marine groaned from a pile of rubble and sheet metal.

Ugh. Shit.

He lifted himself off the rubble and spotted a metallic glint in the wreckage, frowning in curiosity as he picked the object up. In his hand was a strange sort of combat gauntlet that resembled a wrist-mounted buzzsaw. It was an antique implement covered in rust and bizarrely makeshift, and he hadn’t seen it when he’d cleaned the workshop.

What the…

Looking up and picking himself from the ground, the Marine stepped into a hidden room concealed from the rest of the chamber by the fake wall he’d broken through, filled with a multitude of odd devices. A chemistry station with various multicolored stimulants, a rail cannon of depleted nuclear rods, an…old Soviet synthesizer? How the fuck did that even end up in Hell?

A makeshift electric guitar with a chainsaw edge. The Marine picked it up and curiously plucked a string.

“BZZZZZT!!”

HOLY SHIT!

The guitar released a surge of pulsating energy that electrified the chamber and felt like energizing his very nerves, the circular speakers on the guitar crackling with a familiar crimson energy.

An electric guitar constructed with Argent emitters? Who would be deranged enough to build such a thing?

The Marine set the device down but spotted two other objects sitting on the floor, a pair of force-blade skates. He picked one up and activated its blade, a shimmering ionized plasma jet that repelled matter and would have levitated its user and propelled them at great speeds.

Fucking hell, whoever came up with this was a fucking psycho. This type of force-blade would have been impossible to control. Damn thing could have killed them…

But he was immortal.

The Marine raised his eyebrows and looked back at the skateboard by the opening.

Wait a minute.

He needed to come up with an alternate form of enhanced movement other than running for his new suit of armor. There was the skateboard. The force skates. An idea began to form in his head.

Heyyy…

There was also the electric guitar. In the absence of his Harmonic Resonators, Argent-powered speakers would work just fine. The suit would be bizarre and freakish, but it would also be terrifying for the demons.

It was just the ‘something’ he was looking for. Not quite his style, but he’d worn enough military suits in his life. It was time for something different.

I’m gonna need spikes. Lots and lots of spikes.

* * *

The droids and ARGUS units were still after me. I ducked through a gate labeled “Dig Site 07” and stepped into an unusual chamber walled in frozen ice, the hallway ending at an industrial site carved directly into Europa’s icy surface. Mining robots drilled at the walls while others hauled away ice debris or analyzed strange rock formations.

Glancing at my radar and the signals of hostile droids after me, I rushed into the dig site and unexpectedly fell in a narrow pit of clear icy water that the other droids had been avoiding.

Shit! I thought to myself as I slowly sank through the water in Europa’s low gravity, even with my heavy frame. I began swimming upwards when Colonel Johnson broke his silence.

“ John, wait!”

He can still communicate?

“ Those droids are still tracking you. Stay hidden. They can’t follow you underwater.”

I hesitated but as I saw the droid signals on my radar stop and search around the dig site, I realized the utility of my predicament and let myself drift down into the water. It grew rapidly dark with only the fading light from the artificial illumination through the thick ice. I didn’t know how long the hostile droids would search for me, but I wasn’t holding my breath.

…Oh wait. I don’t need to breathe anymore.

Treading water, I glanced around to see precisely where I was. I’d fallen into a flooded tunnel through the ice sheet, the pale walls and floor barely visible beside me but quickly fading into darkness. Apart from bits of debris and a drifting chunk of clear ice the size of my fist, the tunnel was devoid of life.

…No. The pale debris itself was alive, wasn’t it? I squinted at the whitish speck paddling through the water, almost too small to make out, but it resembled some type of minuscule shrimp or jellyfish, I couldn’t tell.

The drifting ice chunk paddled its fins, and I realized it wasn’t ice at all.

The creature was a sphere around ten centimeters across, consisting of a single eyeball inside a clear dome with two long forward-facing tailfins on its rear. The paddling tailfins shimmered with rainbow colors in the light, and its eyeball quivered to look at me. It was unlike any creature from Earth and certainly not any fish I’d ever known.

Gazing at me, the creature blinked and released a brilliant flash of light from its eyeball.

AAAHH!!

I recoiled as the sudden flash stung my eyes (visual sensors?) and made my vision swim and sputter, blinking hazily as the alien globefish hurriedly swam away.

Piece of shit…! PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW! I fired my machine guns underwater which dully thrummed and left hissing trails of bubbles.

“John, cease fire! Many Europan life-forms possess advanced defense mechanisms. You’d best be careful.

Your firearms and spells may be hindered underwater and will not regenerate, so save your munitions.”

The water suddenly rumbled as the ice shook and the portions of the walls cracked.

What was that?

“Europa is experiencing unusual tectonic activity, and it’s only getting worse. Get back up there and hurry, soldier. That’s an order.”

Glaring angrily at my radar to ensure the coast was clear, I jetted up the channel and leapt through the surface to land again in the dig site. The assault droids were gone, but the mining bots were damaged and had begun to spark and malfunction.

“I gotta keep moving, I gotta get to the surface.

The farther I get from this underground ocean, the better.”

* * *

The Marine passed through the gate of the citadel’s bridge, following a summon from the Imperator. The wide hall was abandoned and empty, an empty deck containing only the glaring red ports to the exterior Hellscape and two dark figures conversing in the distance. The two turned to face him as he arrived, revealing the warlord and a slim hooded figure nearly half his size. The two said some final words before the figure turned to depart, leaving the Imperator alone.

The Marine glanced at the entity as she passed, an eerie sleek gynoid with blade-like legs, a cracked white porcelain face, and an all-black metallic chassis that almost seemed Angelic in its construction, with a similar black sword hanging on her back.

The Dark Angel said nothing as she walked by, only glaring at the Marine through her black porcelain eyes before passing through the same gate and disappearing.

“Slayer,” said the Imperator. “Thank you for heeding my call. The others will be here soon.”

As if on cue, the deck flashed with blue bursts of light from the other commanders warping in. Typhon, Hennya, the Warden, High Priestess, High Three, and others.

What’s the deal? Why are we all here?

“That.” The Imperator pointed at the bridge windows, and the assembly stepped forward to assess the situation. The Marine followed close and promptly stopped.

What are we looking at?

“The Black Fleet,” the Warden explained.

They don’t look friendly.

“They’re not enemies.”

That’s not reassuring.

The Marine and the rest of the Jericho commanders stood overlooking a fleet of massive tetragonal-shaped vessels. The jet-black pyramidal ships were smaller than the Jericho but of no making familiar to the Marine, and though they didn’t appear demonic, they seemed remarkably ominous.

What exactly are they?

“An extragalactic agency native to our universe that align themselves with the Void,” Typhon explained. “We’ve made contact with them before and have formed a so-so partnership.”

So what happens now?

“We go into lockdown,” the Warden answered.

Huh?

“The Black Fleet aren’t our enemy, but they’re an entropic force of annihilation in our universe and many Forsworn do not take kindly to them. For security reasons, all Forsworn will be confined to their quarters as long as their envoy remains in our fortress.”

They’re coming here.

“Indeed. And we,” the Imperator turned around and walked away from the display, indicating to the highest-ranking Forsworn warriors present, “will welcome them with utmost respect.”

The rest of the commanders marched off into the fortress, and the Marine stayed to study the ominous Black Fleet when he heard a stern voice behind him.

“Marine?” It was Typhon.

He walked over to the lieutenant.

“Have a look at this.”

Typhon unflapped one of her belt pouches and held it open for the Marine to see. In it was a small red shape with a bright green eye. The Marine rushed back in immediate shock.

WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING??

“Pocket caco.” Typhon replied as she smilingly pulled the infant demon from her belt pouch.

WHAT THE FUCK IS IT DOING HERE??

“...Pocket caco.” The lieutenant repeated.

The Marine stared at Typhon incredulously.

… SQUEAK SQUEAK! Typhon lightly squeezed the demon between two fingers, causing its eye to bulge and releasing comical squeaking sounds.

The Marine breathed in as his temper rose.

Why the hell do you have a “pocket caco”?

“This? This is Munchy.

I found him as an egg some time ago. I do believe I imprinted on him and he sees me as his mother! How adorable is that?”

What.

“He likely won’t grow up like other cacodemons since he hasn’t been exposed to Hell’s hatred, so essentially I end up with an immortal puppy! Isn’t that wonderful?”

Why the hell are you telling me this? The Marine asked with genuine confusion.

“Because…,” Typhon returned ‘Munchy’ to her belt pouch and walked up to the Marine’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“ No one will ever believe you. ”

…

The lieutenant cast a chilling smirk and walked smugly into the Jericho.

* * *

“You’re heading out?!” Grimm asked in disbelief.

Grimm and the Marine walked down the Jericho ’s corridors as countless warriors and aliens rushed past them. The commanders had already announced the initiation of lockdown protocols, and the Forsworn were in a hurry to head to their designated stations.

Not just me. You’re coming too, slick.

“What?!”

Don’t give me that look! You and I have been cooped up far too long! We’re soldiers, we’re men, damn it! We live for battle! We breathe battle! We fucking shit battle!

“Big guy, I think you to need to get some rest-”

I’VE HAD ENOUGH REST! AND IT’S FUCKING KILLING ME!

I need to fight! I need to KILL! I need to shove a rocket launcher up something’s ass and blow its brains to kingdom fuck!

I can’t stand four walls around me anymore! I can’t stand all this kum-ba-yah and soul-searching shit any longer!

“What.”

Look at this shit!!

The Marine pointed to colored banners, flags, and luminous signs the Forsworn had begun placing throughout the grim hallways. After his triumphant return from the battle with the Godkillers, there was more light and color visible in every corner of the Jericho. The grim and dungeon-like interior of the fortress-ship had taken a warmer, more welcoming presentation.

And he hated it.

Used to be this was a respectable citadel filled with hardened warriors! Now it’s all a schizophrenic mess of color and sentimental garbage.

‘ The courage to walk into the Darkness, but strength to return to the Light,’ he read off one wall. ‘Dream not of what you are, but what you want to-’ THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEAN??

“Big guy, the Forsworn respect you. They admire you, and you’ve brought hope and life to these people who had none-”

I DON’T FUCKING CARE!

I’m sick of doing nothing, I’m sick of all this sentimental shit, and I’m especially sick of ALL THESE WOMEN!!

“What the hell?”

I’m saying it! I’m fucking sick of all their nonsense! Did you know Typhon has a ‘pocket ca-’ A PET DEMON? She keeps a fucking hatchling Cacodemon as a pet! Calls it ‘Munchy’!!

“That hard-ass Typhon? I don’t believe you.”

Uggghhh…I can’t stand them any longer. Having this many women in battle is unnatural. They’re nothing but a BIG FUCKING DISTRACTION.

“DUDE, what the fuck is wrong with- WHEW!”

Grimm suddenly glanced back as he spotted the Hellhound Cerberus trio march by, whistling at their form-fitting armor.

“DAMN! Those Hellhounds got me feeling the Spirit of the Wolf. They’re awakening my Beast of Darkness, if you know what I mean, heh heh...”

Grimm stared after them but quickly took on a dawning expression, turning to face an incredulous Marine. The two of them had stopped in front of a desk leading to a rehabilitation ward, staffed by a short bored alien receptionist.

The other soldier gulped in chagrin and concern. “Okay, I see your point. What’s the plan?”

“Excuse me, are you two gentlemen checking into this ward for the lockdown?”

The soldiers turned to face the short human receptionist addressing them. The Marine was surprised to find wolf-like ears reminiscent of the Hellhound Spartans on her complexion, yet with pale silky skin, long blonde hair, a prim red suit that brought out her kind eyes, and a surprisingly warm expression. An albino Hellhound woman?

“Uhh…no. We’re just, passing by.”

“Oh, that’s okay.” The receptionist leaned back but remained staring at the soldiers with intrigued yellow eyes.

The plan is we grab our gear, take a ship, fly it out to some hellhole, and just start shooting anything that moves.

“That’s your plan?”

All the plan I need.

“Hold on, what ‘gear’ are we grabbing when everything is being locked down? What ship? Do you know how to fly these alien crafts? What hellhole are we jumping blindly into?

And do you really think we’ll be fine ‘shooting anything that moves’ and be back no problem? Just like that?”

Pussy.

Grimm jerked back. “I’m not a pu-”

Pussy pussy pussy pussy-

“OKAY, FINE. Know any decent local hellholes?

I’m sorry about this, miss,” Grimm suddenly addressed the alien receptionist. “He has no manners. We’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all!” The fascinated receptionist replied with wide sparkling eyes. “Please, continue!”

Ever been to the House of Pain?

“That’s not a very welcoming name.”

What about the Halls of the Damned?

“Is that what they’re really called?”

What about the Slough of Despair?

“You’re just making that up.”

It’s real! Plenty of run-gun-fun to be had there.

“I think my concept of run-gun-fun is a little different from yours, big guy.”

The Marine crossed his arms in exasperation, when the alien receptionist behind them suddenly spoke up.

“Why don’t you two check out the Burning Sea of the Raging Inferno? It’s a lovely ocean of fire, brimstone, and lava, perfectly safe to splash around in if you have heat resistance! Fun even!

It’s at the center of a perpetual firestorm located in the tenth sector of the Umbral Plains, embroiling entire continents and surrounded by cursed crystal asteroids.

There’s nothing of value for any demonic civilization there. The firestorms and asteroids keep most big demons away, and only small demons hang around the rocky islands that break up the sea.

It’s the perfect getaway place!”

…

“...Huh.”

The two soldiers stared incredulously at the Forsworn receptionist, but then the Marine turned to Grimm with an intrigued smirk.

You in?

“Fffffff fine.”

Thanks for the advice, uhh…Charlotte.

The Marine leaned over to read the label on the receptionist’s coat, though this was in a Hellish dialect he didn’t quite understand. The receptionist raised her eyebrows in surprise before smiling nervously.

“It’s…Charlie.”

The Marine promptly reached out and pulled the receptionist’s cheek.

“SLAYER!” A horrified Grimm yelled.

Your name is what I say it is, kid.

The receptionist looked surprised but quickly giggled and made two thumbs-up gestures in her awkwardly leaning posture.

“Okayy!” She happily replied before the Marine let go, crudely grabbed Grimm’s shoulder and dragged him along towards the Jericho hangar.

“Bye! Come back any time!” The receptionist happily waved goodbye but Grimm was flabbergasted.

“The hell you do that for?!”

Between her and the Hellhounds, you and I are getting a little too comfortable around demon chicks lately. Just reminding them who’s in fucking charge.

Grimm scoffed as he regained his footing, but the Marine was already fixated on his next hunt.

He wasn’t fond of swimming in lava, but between staying locked in his quarters while Void entities boarded the ship and the overbearing presence of all the Forsworn women continued making them soft, the choice was clear.

Nothing manlier than a beach trip into the Shores of Hell.

* * *

The trio hurried quietly through the walls of Lazarus, keen to leave behind the memory of the blind creature stalking them through the puddles.

Elena traipsed a ways behind the two men when she felt a faint presence linger upon her mind.

“... take it to bay six in Helix…,” the recollection echoed in her thoughts.

A memory? A foreign one?

“ ...Doctor Pierce wants more research for the Chainstrosities…”

Elena tried to hold onto the thought, but it was too faint and slipped from her grip. Her senses weren’t fine enough yet.

In her meditation she fell behind the men and was snapped alert by the sound of the gate sealing shut and locking behind them.

“Hiro!”

“Elena!”

The two rushed for the door and slammed the access panels beside, but these bore a bizarre inverted red triangle on their screens and were unresponsive.

“Elena! Are you okay?!”

“Yes! But, I can’t get this door to open!”

Skullhacker desperately pulled on Romero’s shoulder trying to hush the bounty hunter, but he pushed the trooper aside and continued slamming the gate.

“ELEN-” Shing! “...a…”

Romero slumped to the ground as a numbing sensation spread from his neck, his legs collapsing and vision fading as he caught a sight of a blue glint from the trooper’s hand.

N-no, please…why…

He suddenly startled in full alertness and sharply breathed in.

“Ugghh!” Coughing violently on the floor, he recovered sensation and control in his limbs and body as quickly as it’d left.

“Urrghh! What…I’m alive?”

He looked up to find Skullhacker’s upper body phasing through the gate which slid open moments later, a strange device on his hand which he returned to his belt. The red triangle on the access panels was replaced with an override message, and Elena was alive and unharmed on the other side of the gate.

“The HELL did you do to me…?!” Romero grumbled in rising anger as he desperately pulled his helmet off. He touched his neck to find it whole and unstabbed from a Neural Knife. There was a miniscule hole on his helmet’s neck ring which quickly resealed itself. He looked up at the Skullhacker.

A miniscule steel claw glinted blue from a fingertip, sharp and long enough to pass through a suit’s weak point, which the Blackwatch Trooper promptly raised and Romero realized was attached to his middle finger.

“OH, THAT’S IT!”

He charged the soldier but Elena quickly stood between the two and held them apart.

“Hey! Knock it off! Both of you!” The scientist shouted in a rare burst of anger, but the two men were staring each other down.

“Did you see what he did?! He injected me with some shit to knock me out!”

The Blackwatch Trooper firmly stepped forward in aggression, bringing a fisted arm towards the bounty hunter as SAM shrieked in hostility. His visor’s skull display seemed to frown in evident frustration, but Elena pushed the two apart with hands on their chestplates.

“Listen! That’s enough!

We’re all tired and scared and jumpy, but we’re not gonna get through this if we don’t watch each other’s backs. We don’t have to like each other, but we have to trust one another.

We’re not gonna make it if we’re at each other’s throats, do you understand?”

A frustrated Romero looked at her and back at the soldier.

“Do you understand?” Elena turned to Skullhacker, whose facial display sputtered before he stood down and backed away. Romero also lowered his fists. The soldier walked back, kicking Romero’s helmet up at him in one final act of defiance, causing the bounty hunter to jerk back and snatch the helmet from the air.

“Uh- heyy!”

The soldier headed again for the front of the group but not before Elena smacked him on the back of the head, causing him to flinch in surprise.

“No attitude from you either!”

* * *

“What do you think you’re doing?” The Warden shouted up at the Marine.

Prepping this fighter ship for takeoff.

“Not one of my ships, you’re not.” The commander refuted. “And certainly not right before we enter lockdown.”

Fuck you, I’m going out.

“OUT INTO HELL??”

Don’t worry, the Marine pointed at the face that peered out from the ship’s bay door. I’m bringing company.

“Sorry about this, Warden ma’am,” Grimm apologized. “He dragged me into it.”

“Ah! You guys are heading out into the wastes?!” An excited Cygnis suddenly glided into view. “ Take me with, won’t ya?! I’m DYING to test out my new darling IRONBLAST on some REAL FLESH!”

The dragonoid raised his new toy, a monstrous superheavy shotgun that almost made the Marine feel sorry for whatever poor demon had the misfortune to stare down its eight barrels. And he certainly did not want to get caught in its crossfire.

“We were hoping to take a break from the Jericho… ” Grimm politely explained.

“That ship needs a pilot!” The Guncaster pointed with a pose. “ And let me tell you, folks, you won’t find a better pilot anywhere in the Nine Circles other than I!”

“ No, Flaynithere, you are NOT piloting that!” The Warden declared. “The Jericho is entering lockdown for an assembly with the Black Fleet and I cannot sanction an unscheduled operation without support and much less without reason.”

“The Warden’s right,” the Imperator affirmed as he and the High Priestess suddenly came into view. “You should not take that fighter-”

The rest of the Forsworn in the hangar swiftly bowed at the warlord’s unexpected appearance, but Cygnis yelled in disappointment. “Awww, my liege!”

“-when you could take that interceptor instead.”

The Warden jerked with surprise. Grimm, Cygnis, and the Marine turned to where the Imperator indicated to find a sleek interceptor vessel much larger and better equipped than the fighter they were planning to fly.

“ My liege! You bring a tear to this old lizard’s eyes!”

“My lord,” the High Priestess inquired, “is that a good idea?”

“If you’re going to fly a solo mission while we’re on lockdown, you will require heavy firepower and hyperspeed capability.”

“Sir,” the Warden began. “I must firmly oppose this decision. Flaynithere is a critical asset to our ranks and it would be imprudent to allow this operation without support from mission control.”

“I will go too.”

The Warden turned to the new voice behind her, finding a man in prim black shinobi’s robes with a sheathed katana at his waist and a white prosthetic hand on his left arm. His previously unkempt face was now clean and shaven, his long hair tied back and eyes glaring with deadly purpose.

“Wolf,” the stunned Warden softly muttered. “You’ve taken up your sword. And your hand…”

The shinobi raised and clenched his prosthetic hand, which appeared built from carved ivory. “I have neglected my duties too long, allowed myself to fall into despair after my master’s death. It is not what Master Kuro would have wanted of me.

It is time I carved my own path.”

The Imperator stepped forward to assure the Warden. “The Slayer travels with them. By their strength combined, they will be safe.”

The Warden sighed in defeat. “The Black Fleet will send their envoy soon. If you’re going to depart, you should go now.”

“HELL TO THE YEAH!” The Guncaster ecstatically exclaimed. “ Fire up those engines, boys! We’re going hunting!”

“Wolf,” the Warden called out to the shinobi, who approached as she pulled one of the two impossibly long swords on her back, one that was sheathed in a red scabbard, and held it out with both hands. “May the Gracious Gift of Tears guard you.”

The shinobi bowed and respectfully took the sword with both hands.

“Slayer?” The Imperator called out before flicking a small artifact upward at the Marine, who caught it and found it to be a runestone made of a black disk of metal engraved with a symbol that pulsated a dark fluid.

“You’ll need it. It is the Void Heart, a rune I constructed myself. It’ll shield you with your own emptiness, negating all environmental harm.

I hesitated giving it to you before, but now I know you can resist its darkness.”

The Marine was shocked.

This is…too much. I can’t take this.

“Of course you can. It was yours to begin with.”

The Marine took a closer look at the metal, realizing it was an armor plating he long ago had taken off the Praetor Suit and handed to the Imperator, when he first encountered the warlord in his world. He’d kept the totem all those years.

“Happy hunting, gentlemen,” the Imperator casually stated before turning around and departing, the High Priestess close behind.

“ Oh, boy, let me tell you!” The Guncaster exclaimed as he draped an arm around Grimm as they and Wolf headed to the interceptor vessel. “ You ain’t never seen anybody fly like I can! All aboard the SS Kick-Ass!

I forecast sunny skies with a hundred-percent chance of DEATH!”

The Marine sighed and climbed down from the abandoned fighter ship, landing face-to-face with a Yautja in ember battle armor and long snow-white dreadlocks.

Holy shit!

“ Crr-crr-crr-crr…” The alien clicked ominously. He didn’t recognize this new bizarre Yautja, whose pale dreadlocks indicative of old age seemed at odds with its relatively youthful face…

Wait a minute, he recognized that face.

Fuckface?

“ Ahhh…” The Tiger Yautja exclaimed in confirmation. The Marine couldn’t believe it. The alien’s dreadlocks - which to its species were precious sensory organs that enabled their keen reflexes and coordination - had been restored and hung freely on its muscular shoulders. But how?

“ WHOA! Look at you, Tiger!” Cygnis exclaimed from the interceptor. “ You got new dreads! Looking good, tough guy!”

The alien clicked with satisfaction. Pale dreads were associated with the strength and wisdom of old age and were a mark of pride in Yautja culture, moreso than their invaluableness in combat. As if to demonstrate, the Yautja broke into a run towards the interceptor and deftly leapt onto its wings, backflipping onto its top with unmatchable agility and landed on the palms of its hands before lifting one hand and doing several handstanding push-ups.

“You should have seen him leaving ze medical vard ,” the voice of Valeria spoke behind the Marine. “He vas giddy with excitement like a child.”

The Marine turned to face the proud Hyperborean medic, behind which stood Henya and Dahlia.

You gave him his dreadlocks back?

“Aren’t they incredible? I grew them out of silk, much more sensitive than his natural dreadlocks ever vere . He came to my vard one day und requested I help get his strength back.

As did Volf. I carved him a new hand of ivory, vith an inbuilt grapple hook. I could have added additional implements like his previous prosthetic, but he claimed he only needed to hold his sword again.”

The Marine looked back to see Grimm, Cygnis, Wolf, and Tiger comparing weapons at the gate of the interceptor.

“They look much brighter. I see new fire in everyone’s eyes, Slayer. Ever since you returned.

Thank you for that.”

Mmm.

“ Vell, I must return to my duties. The Jericho is entering lockdown und I must ensure my patients’ health.

Don’t forget,” she addressed Hennya. “You and I are on Onto-”

She suddenly glanced at the Marine, causing him to raise an eyebrow.

“ Ve’re on Dead Dove duty.”

“Ugghhh…” The Demon Warframe sighed.

What now duty? The Marine asked in perplexment, but the medic merely smiled.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing.”

Hmm.

“Safe travels, Slayer. I’ll be here to set any broken bones vhen you return.”

Yeah, yeah, whatever.

The Vril-ya bowed and left, leaving Hennya and Dahlia with the Marine.

Sorry sister, the Marine smirked as he crossed his arms in front of the Demon Warframe. This is a boys-only trip. No girls allowed.

“Ohoho no,” Hennya assured with a handwave. “I’m not nearly brave enough to join an all-men’s joyride anyway.”

Joyri-?

“ HAHAHAHA!!”

The two looked back to find Tiger balancing by one hand atop Cygnis’ railgun, which the dragonoid held in his palm with the barrel aiming at the Yauja’s face, while Grimm boisterously cheered them on.

“You got it! You got it!”

… Men will be men.

“I’m not supposed to be doing this, but I’ll keep a line open for an emergency. Technically I’m on the welcoming party for the Black Fleet’s envoy, but if anything happens, send a word and I’ll do what I can to help.”

Yeah, fine.

“And Slayer? I think something’s bugging Grimm.”

The Marine glanced back at his brother-in-arms. The soldier seemed normal, nothing remarkable about his demeanor.

I think he’s fine.

“Perhaps you should talk to him.”

Guys don’t talk to guys about guy problems!

We just…tell each other ‘it is what it is’ and move on.

Hennya raised an eyebrow.

“That’s dumb.”

To a girl. To a guy, that’s like six months of therapy.

The Operator sighed and crossed her arms.

“Look, he’s your friend. He’s been here for you this whole time. It wouldn’t hurt for you to just ask what’s wrong.”

UGGHHH. Fine!

“Not there!” The distant voice of the Warden caught their attention, and they turned to find her yelling at two Forsworn soldiers moving a cargo crate. “Your orders were for THAT bay! Get it right the first time!”

Jeez, what the fuck is her problem?

“Whaddaya mean?”

Where I’m from, we call that attitude a symptom of ‘sandinvaginitis.’ Bet she pulled that big spiky stick of hers out of her ass just to beat everyone with it.

“The Warden is…complicated.”

More like a man-hating bitch.

“No- ugh, try to understand.

The Warden grew up an orphan. She got abandoned by her parents really young, was raised a servant, and never really had a family. She was hurt and betrayed by every man in her life, except the one who loved her like a daughter.”

Daddy issues?

“He was killed in front of her.”

Oh, fuck me, the Marine thought privately, chastizing himself for the ill-timed joke .

“He was the only man she had any affection towards, and I don’t think she’s loved anyone since. Anyone except…

Well, she has a strong sense of duty and justice, but doesn’t sweat the details like tact or compromise. After so long of being a big old hammer, I guess everything looks like a nail.”

So that’s her story, huh?

“You know,” Hennya remarked with a grin, “you and her have a lot in common.”

We do NOT!

“You do. Heh, more than you know.

Maybe that’s why you two get along so smoothly, even if neither wants to admit it.”

Mmm.

“So just, you know, try to be a little thoughtful. Show some respect and stay out of trouble, and maybe she’ll warm up to you.”

WHATEVER, space mom.

Hennya giggled. “Heh heh, you boys have fun.” The Demon Warframe spun in a stream of blue wisps and vanished, leaving the Marine alone with Dahlia. The two gazed at each other for a moment before looking away and shuffling uncomfortably, unsure what to say.

“Sir Flaynithere,” they heard new voices inquire from the interceptor, taking the chance to look at the same Cerberus trio of Hellhound Spartans holding out their newly-crafted shotguns to the Guncaster.

“May you autograph our firearms?” The sisters asked.

“Of course, ladies!” The dragonoid exclaimed as he took the weapons and raised them.

Autograph?! I’m the one that made th-!

“ROOOAAARRR!!” The Guncaster breathed a torrent of flame onto the shotguns’ barrels, maintaining the fire only a few seconds to leave the firearms a deep charcoal black with fiery cracks.

“ Here ya go! Watch out cuz they’re SMOKIN’ hot!”

The Hellhound Spartans took their firearms back and gazed at them with wonder.

“Thank you, sir!”

The Guncaster snapped finger guns at the Spartans and winked as they excitedly rushed off into the hangar.

“Whew,” Grimm whistled after them.

The leading Spartan ignored him, the second one growled a quick snarl as she passed, but the last sister stopped and gazed in awe at the soldier, who winked in response. The Spartan’s eyes widened flusteredly and she hurried after her sisters.

This guy, the Marine shrugged in the Guncaster’s direction. I don’t get why he’s so damn popular.

“He has charisma, my lord,” Dahlia explained. “He is mighty, perceptive, exotic, and charming.”

He makes himself look like an idiot, that’s what he does.

“My lord, forgive the question, but perhaps you are jealous?”

Jeal- what? Jealous? ME?? Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not jealous!

The nymph bowed respectfully, and the Marine crossed his arms in disdain.

What did he have to be jealous about? He was the Doom Slayer, he wasn’t jealous of anyone and certainly not some pompous lizard. He just wanted to know why the alien was so popular.

Was it the mythical larger-than-life personality? The bombastic energy he brought to the otherwise grim Forsworn? His constant good humor and agreeableness? His loud unrelenting confidence?

Or perhaps it was the dragon aspect, which most beings feared or respected? The sleek angled horns, the tall muscular build, the deep and gravely voice? Were the others actually fascinated by that? The open leather jacket and armored musculature…it just seemed narcissistic.

He didn’t buy it. Men were men and dragons were dragons, but a half-dragon half-man just struck him as…unnatural.

“You know, you could always take a picture,” Cygnis humorously told him as he struck several poses to flex his muscles. “ It’ll last longer.”

…What.

“Hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm…”

The Marine looked past Cygnis to find Grimm and the Tiger Yautja struggling to hold their laughter, before they suddenly bellowed and pointed with gut-busting laughter.

Wait- NO! It’s not like that!

“AHAHAHAHAHA!!”

“Caught you looking, big guy! Caught ya lookin’!”

The Marine scowled in boiling fury and embarrassment. He looked back to find other Forsworn warriors in the hangar also laughing at him, even Dahlia quietly chuckling into her hand.

Excuse me, I have to commit a hate crime.

“Farewell, my lord.”

The Marine stormed into the interceptor as Grimm cackled and Cygnis continued striking poses.

“What’s the matter, big guy?! I thought you said you weren’t into monster girls! But are you into monster guys?! Hahaha!”

Shut up and die.

“ If you want, I can ditch the jacket! Fight the Hellspawn with just my abs and these GLORIOUS GUNS!!”

The three warriors posed behind to flex their biceps, and the Marine entered the interceptor’s transport bay where Wolf was meditating.

Fuck this guy, I hate him.

* * *

“ All right, folks, everyone cocked, locked, and rocked?” The Guncaster asked over the interceptor’s PA system from the pilot’s cabin.

“We’re ready to go, Cygnis!” Grimm yelled.

“ In that case, welcome aboard the SS Kick-Ass, aliens and gentlemen. This is your sssmoking-hot captain speaking.

Please remember to keep your arms, legs, and other extraneous extremities inside the craft at all times. Be forewarned: you WILL get wet on this ride.

Enjoy your flight and thank you for flying with Dragon-Stud Airlines.”

If he doesn’t die, I’m going to kill him, the Marine thought before opening the capsule in the cargo hold and unveiling his newly-crafted and completed suit of armor.

The suit was crafted out of intentionally gnarled and rusty orange-brown metal covered in spikes and bolts. Electric red speakers pulsated idly from receptacles in the plating, attached to controls salvaged from the Soviet synthesizer and electric guitar. Force-skate propulsors were attached to the boots and the helmet resembled a furious metallic skull with extended fangs and a spiked muzzle.

He called it the Argent Metal Armor.

“You’re heading out in that?” Grimm asked beside him with a raised eyebrow.

Fuck yeah.

“Looks a little ‘apunkalyptic,’ don’t you think? Kind of dated.”

I think it looks dope.

“And what is that?” Grimm indicated to the weapon beside it.

THAT…is the Spitfyre. With a deranged smile, the Marine picked up the heavy flamethrower he’d constructed himself. Converts most thermic resources into phlogiston for munition. It can even run on lava. Primary is a channeled mid-range flame stream, secondary is a long-range incendiary rocket.

Bring the hurt and watch them burn.

“Don’t you think that’s a little unsafe?”

Didn’t build it to roast marshmallows.

“Flaynithere requested I hand these out,” Wolf said as he approached with several golden artifacts in hand. “They’re Dragonheart Totems. They’ll shield us from crossfire and regenerate us and our equipment in the case of ordinary death. We are very fortunate.”

Grimm and Tiger took the talismans and hung them around their neck. Wolf offered one to the Marine but he refused. He wouldn’t be needing it.

Now…to try this thing on.

He walked around to the Argent Metal Armor’s backside and pressed a switch to cause the suit to open up from behind. He stepped into the armor and lined himself against its frame as it closed back up around him.

…INITIALIZING SYSTEMS…

ARGENT SPEAKERS: ONLINE

WEAPONS MODULE: ONLINE

PROBABILITY ENGINE: ONLINE

FORCE-SKATE PROPULSORS: ONLINE

ALL SYSTEMS GO

Fuck yeah. The Marine hadn’t been able to retrofit any of the original modules from the Praetor Suit, but at least he’d transferred his latest arsenal into a provisional hammerspace matrix. He tested it out, equipping the chainsaw and switching to the shotgun, Gauss Cannon, Screamer, the BFG-9000, and the Hellshot. Taylor’s Hellshot.

The Marine paused for a moment. His heart panged as he ran his fingers along the claw marks left on the gun’s casing and gripped the same handle she’d once held. But he breathed and let the pain pass, focusing on the now and the promises he’d made.

I’ll make them pay. I promise.

He unequipped the Hellshot and grabbed the new Spitfyre to incorporate it into the weapon matrix.

“So what’s it like, being the Doom Slayer?”

The Marine stared. Grimm had become aware of the Marine’s identity ever since the Nuclear Godkiller incident, but he hadn’t brought the subject up.

He shrugged his shoulders. Lots of running, lots of gunning.

“What sort of powers do you have?”

Durability, strength, speed, immunity to corruption and most conventional harm, enhanced senses, resurrective immortality…Though I also relied on my Praetor Suit for other utilities.

“Used to be it was just us foot soldiers against the demons. Now everyone has magic powers or fancy tech. Everything’s changed. Guess the world just moved too fast.

I don’t know, maybe it’s just me. Maybe I just couldn’t keep up,” Grimm added with an air of moroseness, which the Marine couldn’t quite explain.

The Marine shrugged his shoulders. We’re not fighting the same fights from back in our day. The world has changed.

“I guess.”

The Marine looked through the window to see if he could still spot Dahlia in the crowd. There she was, a short red figure standing still among a sea of dark faces.

“She’s really something, isn’t she?” Grimm remarked as he saw the Marine looking through the window. He looked away without responding. “Let me give you a piece of advice, big guy.”

The Marine turned to face Grimm, whose face had turned inexplicably serious.

“Whatever you do, no matter what happens, do not talk to her about your feelings.” The Marine frowned in confusion but Grimm continued. “Listen to me. I don’t doubt your manhood for one second, but if you want to keep her, pay attention.

I know you’re close to her. I know you’ve been through a lot, and that in the bedroom, a man will say the things he’s never told another soul. I know all that. But you’ve gotta force that urge down like your life depends on it.

There are things a man is supposed to be in a woman’s eyes, and there are some things she is never supposed to see. She is never supposed to see you cry. And it’s not that you can’t or shouldn’t. If you want to cry, you cry to me. You cry to your brothers, you cry to your mother, you do not cry to your woman.

She’ll lose all respect for you. She’ll lose interest, or worse still, use that vulnerability against you.”

The Marine looked back through the window, finding that soft red face among the crowd.

Her? Stab him in the back? She wouldn’t.

Would she?

FWOOOM!

The vessel lurched, and with a rising whirr, the craft rose within the Jericho ’s hangar.

“ Heads up, ladies! We’re heading out now!” Cygnis yelled from the cabin. “ In the meantime, please enjoy the selection of music your kindly captain has chosen!”

The interior speakers hissed into reproduction of an ancient music.

“ It ain't me, it ain't me,

I ain't no fortunate one, no…”

OH FUCK NO!!

The Marine rose from his seat and burst into the interceptor cabin.

Turn that shit off! You wouldn’t know good music if it bit you in the ass!

The Marine slammed the control panel to shut the archaic song off, connected a cable from the synthesizer controls on his forearm to the dashboard, and made a selection on his suit’s HUD.

Let me show you some REAL MEN’S music.

The vessel’s speakers burst into reproduction of an electric guitar’s introductory riff, melodic notes cascading over another in a rising crescendo.

“Ooooh, NICE!” Cygnis exclaimed. “ This is new! This is exciting! This is music? It’s amazing! It’s like…like…badassery made sound!

What do you call this?!”

That…is heavy metal. Now PUNCH IT!

Drums surged into the track and Cygnis thrust the craft forward through the hangar, throwing the Marine back into the transport area but he grabbed hold of the railing and cracked a wide grin as the interceptor rushed through the launch bay and blazed into the crimson Hellish sky outside the Jericho.

“Big guy!” Grimm yelled from his secured seat, struggling to make himself heard over the surging track. “I don’t think we should do anything crazy!”

A visibly uncomfortable Wolf concurred beside him. “I’m still not used to flying!”

But the Marine felt a vivid acceleration urging him from within, his heart surging to the beat of the music. Don’t think! Heavy metal isn’t about thinking, you have to FEEL it! Take us into hyperspeed!

The Guncaster slammed the throttle to maximum and the crew yelled as space itself was distorted within the vessel and the ship flashed into a vivid dimensional rift. The Marine was thrown to the very back of the transport bay and groaned as bright streamers of energy soared and seared past him, but still grinning he lifted himself up as Cygnis cackled maniacally and the others screamed in terror, but a spark was igniting in Grimm’s eyes. He was beginning to feel the music.

Cygnis, we’ll start here! Disable the Gellar Shield, shut off the concealment field and open the bay doors!

“ Haha! Are you sure?!” Yelled back the Guncaster without a hint of doubt or hesitation.

Let’s get some fresh air!

“ Hahaha! You got it!” With another gut-wrenching distortion of space within the vessel the interceptor lurchingly burst out of hyperspeed. The protective and concealing fields surrounding the ship promptly shut off as the bay doors opened to a turbulent crimson sky, exposing the men to Hell’s corrosive reality and revealing their position across the entire Hellscape, but they only hysterically hooted under the slamming heavy metal.

“ Wooo! Hits like a splash of cold water, don’t it, boys?!”

Hell, yeah!

Wolf pointed through the bay door. “We have incoming!”

“ First wave of guests! Say hi for me, won’t ya?” Cygnis flipped a switch and deployed two heavy machine guns mounted beside the bay doors. “ And prepare for turbulence! Without the shields, this ride is gonna get BUMPY!”

“I call the port gun!” Grimm stood up and rushed to the firing pod, securing himself in the gunner’s seat as the shadows of Stormbeasts loomed closer to the ship, grabbing hold of the sleek plasma autocannon with belted rounds the size of beer cans. “Drink up, boys! There’s plenty of rounds to go round!”

PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW!!

Bright blue bolts surged from the autocannon and soared into the void, most missing but several striking the concealed demonic Stormbeasts and causing the large flying fish-like demons to roar and speed away as the bolts blasted away at their scales.

No no no, you’re doing it wrong! The Marine corrected.

“Huh?!”

You gotta do it like THIS! The Marine raced towards the edge and grabbed hold of a cable by the bay door at the last moment, briefly swinging into the nothingness as he aimed the combat shotgun with the other hand and shot a shrapnel shot into the mouth of a charging Stormbeast, exploding the demon and splashing him and Grimm with sizzling gore.

“Yeah!!”

Haha!

“Woooo!”

Fuck yeah!

* * *

Cygnis glared forward with fierce excitement as the two marines gleefully fired at the pursuing demons. The looming shadows of shattered floating landmasses surged towards the interceptor amidst the tempest up ahead, but the Guncaster grinned as he shut off the rear thrusters, pulled a lever, and ignited lateral stern thrusters.

The interceptor effortlessly drifted between a jagged trench in the mountains as a guitar riff thrummed over the speakers, its pilot expertly using the vessel’s own momentum to navigate the deadly sharp chasm with centimeters of error and blasting out the other side as the demonic Stormbeasts crashed and smeared themselves on the rock.

Fiery and crystalline asteroids surged towards them at terrible speed but the Guncaster and the ship were one, and together they rolled, spun, flipped and skipped across the hazardous field without ever once reducing velocity.

There was none better at flying than him.

* * *

“OH OH, Cygnis! There’s more dudes coming to join the party!” Grimm yelled to their pilot as fleeting dark shapes slinked across the crystalline asteroids and towards their ship. “New ones too!”

Open the loading bay! Let’s give them a warm welcome! Give the other guys something to do! The Marine glanced at Wolf and Tiger standing nearby as the two humans wildly shot their firearms out the sides of the ship.

“The more, the merrier!”

An alarm sounded as the rear loading bay slid open and dark limbs immediately writhed through the opening, serpentine shapes slinking through to reveal the slimy and gnarled forms of demonic Clawsquids, but these were greeted by a Wolf and Tiger with ready sword and combispear.

Slash! Swish! Clang! Clang! Boom! Boom! Hsss! Splat!

Wolf parried claw strikes left and right before performing a whirlwind slash that gutted two Clawsquids with a single blow. The Tiger Yautja fired bolts from a shoulder-mounted plasmacaster and eviscerated three of the monstrous entities in as many seconds, his ember Phoenix Armor protecting him from the demon’s arcane bursts. The two darted back and forth to evade the demons’ remote blasts of eldritch energy when Tiger suddenly fired a netgun at a Clawsquid that charged the shinobi from behind and pinned the demon by the razor net onto the wall before tossing his combispear and striking the pinned monster through the heart.

Without stopping, Wolf drew his blade back and blazed forward in a roaring rush to impale a charging Clawsquid before somersaulting back and hacking another demon in half. Tiger threw an arc of small mines across the rear bay and eliminated a dozen Clawsquids with the explosions, prompting Wolf to sheathe his blade in a kneeling stance and suddenly rush forward with only a passing glint of silver. His sword appeared not having been drawn at all, but the last five Clawsquids momentarily stood frozen before their bisected corpses crumbled to their knees and fell apart.

Still in the kneeling stance, Wolf looked up and wordlessly returned his sword fully into its sheath as Tiger extended his blades to full length, slashed at the Clawsquid at his feet, and raised its gutted skull and spine above his head with a triumphant roar.

* * *

Hey, slick! The Marine called out as he shot down Clawsquids swooping towards the port bay door. Wanna try out this shotgun?!

“Nah, big guy!” Grimm replied from the starboard door as he shot down more Clawsquids with his plasma rifle. “Shotguns and I don’t mix!”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Bullshit! Get your ass over here! Today, I’mma teach you how to shoot a shotty!

POWW! POWW! POWW!

“What- here? Now ?”

Ain’t no better moment than the Now!

“Hah! Alright!”

Grimm left the starboard autocannon on automatic tracking and joined the Marine by the port door, who held out his shotgun.

Take this. From now on, this is your best friend and most trusted companion. Grimm took the shotgun, and the Marine urged him forward.

If you could only have one weapon, it'd be a shotgun. Forget the BFG. Forget everything else. It is the most useful, versatile weapon. The killer of killers.

The shotgun isn’t your typical spray-and-pray firearm like a machine gun or plasma rifle. There is a delay between each shot and considerable spread that reduces effective accuracy, so you have to make every trigger pull count and make the most out of every shot.

The Marine guided the barrel of the shotgun in Grimm’s hands to follow the trajectory of a flanking Clawsquid slinking across the passing asteroids.

Lead your target, let it get in optimal range, and…

“RWAAHHH!!”

Fire.

BANG! “RYAAHH!!”

The buckshot merely glanced the flying demon, who snarled with pain and retreated.

“It’s no good! I can’t do it!”

Not with that attitude. Your mindset is what’s holding you back.

The shotgun isn’t just a weapon, it’s a tool. The pen by which you leave your signature upon the world. There is thought in every trigger pull and deliberation in every gunshot.

When you use the shotgun, you’re delivering a personal message unto the enemy. The shotgun is personal.

So, what is your message to the enemy?

Grimm’s eyes widened in realization when the shrieking of the flanking Clawsquid caught his attention once more. He turned to face the injured demon flying towards him, but his eyes steeled with determination and he swiftly raised the shotgun at it.

“My personal message is FUCK YOU !!”

BANG!! SPLAT! The Clawsquid exploded in a mess of shell and sizzled flesh that splattered both soldiers, but they cheered histerically as the heavy metal thundered on.

You did it!

“Yeah!”

You used a shotgun!

“ FUCK YEAH!!”

* * *

“Be careful vith those crates, they're full of healing elixir! You can leave that scanner there, it’s not necessary for ze lockdown. BE CAREFUL VITH THAT MANA CONDUIT, IT’S INCREDIBLY DELICATE!!”

The Yithian alien grumbled in annoyance but followed the Hyperborean’s direction in carefully transporting the frail glass apparatus out of the hospital ward. With the Jericho entering lockdown in preparation of the assembly with the Black Fleet, Valeria was in charge of transporting her patients and their necessary gear into a temporary medical shelter.

“Ze sooner ve start ze lockdown, ze sooner ve get it over vith. On ze double, please!”

“Progress, Miss Valeria?” Tyri casually remarked beside her, absent her biometallic Warframe and wearing only a light purple jumpsuit.

“Don’t even ask. These brutes don’t understand unless you yell at them, und then they become insulted when you do. It’s a nightmare.

Vhat about you? Making progress with ze transport of ze Ontophages?”

“AAAAAAAAHHH!!”

“ RRRRRAAAAAWWWWHHHH!!”

Behind Hennya in the passage outside the hospital ward, five varying sarcophagi were being transported by an entire convoy of alien mages and sorcerers, fearfully maintaining containment spells over one of the shuddering coffins in their midst. The sarcophagus shook and rumbled violently as arcane energy burst from within. The other four, including what appeared to be a giant cybernetic mech in an enclosed state, floated silently with no indication of life.

Inside were the five Dead Doves, or as the Forsworn officially knew them, the Ontophages.

A jagged crack suddenly spread across the surface of the unstable coffin and struck a courier mage, knocking them to the wall as their body began to dissolve in iridescent rivulets and a shape visibly writhed within the sarcophagus.

“ RELEASE…ME!! ”

Other mages immediately raised containment fields around the infected sorcerer before casting eradication spells that flashed violently to leave nothing but glittering dust in the victim’s place. Beside them, the shrine maiden Rei swiftly flicked her hand and launched an inscribed paper talisman at the thrashing coffin, which burst on impact into a luminous shield that sealed the crack and contained the sarcophagus within. The coffin shook slightly within the confines of its seal but was otherwise silent.

Neither Valeria nor Tyri made any reaction to the commotion. The Warframe Operator merely sighed, her long metallic magenta hair shimmering on her shoulders..

She stared with concern at the Forsworn under her command: exhausted after years of fighting Hell, despairing from their incessant infighting, and mad from the deathlessness aboard the Jericho. She wished there was something she could do to lift their spirits, but she couldn’t set an example as the Slayer had. He was a hero, she was…a demon. The Demon Warframe.

It was cold. She felt cold.

“... Cold, the air and water flowing

Hard, the land we call our home

Push, to keep the dark from coming

Feel the weight of what we owe… ”

She hadn’t realized the song was breaking through her lips, and she hurriedly silenced herself before anyone heard.

“... Zis, ze song of sons and daughters

Hide, ze heart of who ve are…”

The song continued beside her. Surprised, Tyri turned to see Valeria continuing the song in her fair Elven voice.

“ Making peace to build our future

Strong, united, vorking ‘till ve fall!”

Tyri perked up and joined Valeria in song, their song drawing the attention of nearby Forsworn.

“ Cold, the air and water flowing

Hard, the land we call our home

Push, to keep the dark from coming

Feel the weight of what we owe!”

The warriors stared at them with puzzlement, curiosity, and awe. Bit by bit, others began to join in song, smiles cracking and spirits rising.

“This, the song of sons and daughters

Hide, the heart of who we are

Making peace to build our future

Strong, united, working ‘till we fall!”

The air aboard the Jericho swelled with energy, the voices of a thousand warriors lost in Hell and from their paths, but united in song and in spirit.

“ And we all lift! And we’re all adrift

Together!

Together!

Through the cold mist! ‘Til we’re lifeless

Together!

Together!”

Tyri gazed with wonder at the newly motivated crowd as they continued the song, when she heard a rumble and the ground shaking at her feet.

BOOM! Whirrrrrrrrr!

There was a shower of rocks and a small drilling contraption burst through the floor, retracting and revealing a dirty, heavily bearded and mustached face adorned by mechanical goggles, a red scarf, and wide-brimmed leather hat.

“Now, what’s that darned ground-slammin’ noise I hear?!” The squat figure exclaimed as he pulled himself up to the waist through the opening, even then standing roughly up to Tyri’s knees. “Is that singing?! That’s some mighty fine singin’, cabrones !”

“Duende!” Tyri exclaimed in elation. “You’re alive?!”

“Of course I’m alive, señorita! What’s all this yapperin’ about?”

“Oh, fantastic, ” Valeria sneered in lofty contempt as she crossed her arms in disdain. “ Ze Half-Man returns.”

“Is that the highbrow sawbones?” Duende growled as he pulled down his goggles and tilted his gaze and hat up at the Vril-ya. “I’d know the stink of tree piss and that birdshit cabbage even six feet deep!”

“I’m surprised you can smell at all, vith that dead animal hanging from your face.”

“ Chingados dijiste, gringa?? Can’t hear ya from all the way up there!

Did ya fuck so many trees, ya started to become one?!”

“And you’ve dug through so much scheisse , you look like a downright stinking pile of it!”

“ Metete un cacto por el culo si tanto te gusta tragar hojas, come-ramas !”

“Vhat did you say?!”

“Ah, perdon, señora. Lemme put this delicate-like how you’d understand…

STICKEN A FUCKEN CACTUS-WEINER UP YER SCHEISSE-HOLE TILL YER BLITZING UP SPINES, DAS FUCKEN DEUTSCH-ZUCKERR!!”

Valeria’s eyes narrowed as the subtlest hint of red spread across her cheeks.

“Garden gnome.”

“Hairless hippie.”

“Keg-belly.”

“Knife-ears.”

“Tequila barrel.”

“Albino twig.”

“Hispanic Hobbit!”

“Hyper Viper!”

“Latin Leprechaun!”

“Vril Vanilla!”

“MEXICAN MIDGET!”

“GERMAN GOBLIN-!”

“ Question!” A new high-pitched and synthetic voice buzzed from Duende’s burrowing hole, and the stocky man grunted as a strange cyborg entity pushed against him and squeezed through the opening. It was a gruesome construct resembling a large eyeball attached to a crude robotic body, with two alien organic arms on either side serving as its legs and a mining drill attached to its top.

“Is this unit dismissed from service?”

“ Claro que no! Ya one-eyed-!”

“ORBB!” Tyri exclaimed in sheer joy as she bent down to pat the grotesque cyborg. “I haven’t seen you in ages, little guy!”

“ Ahhh, it is good to see you again, Master Hennya! This unit is very happy.”

“Observer,” Valeria greeted coolly.

“ Guten tag, Master Doctor!” The cyborg saluted with one arm-leg.

“Git back down there, cyberclops! Yer done till I says yer done!” Duende exclaimed as he aggressively pushed the cyborg down, which made robotic grunting sounds as it sank back into the ground.

“Duende, you should head to your lockdown station,” Tyri continued. “We’re holding a-”

“What’s all this fussin' about?!”

“We’re holding a scheduled ship-wide lockdown. Protocol says all personnel to their designated stations.”

“I AIN’T FOLLOWIN’ NO DAMN PROTOCOL!

My gizmos say there’s a beeg shiny gem deep in this ship, y no me voy till I finds it!”

“ Ja. Zat would be ze power core, steinkopf.”

“NOT THAT SHINY GEM, YA LANKY LEAFBLOWER!

Somethin’s echoin’ ‘cross every damn dimensional frequency, and I’s gonna git my hands on it!”

“And you needed Orbb for it?”

“Ol’ One Eye has been here since before we’s and that red-eyed jefe showed up! If any guey knows how to travel this ship, it’s him.”

“It’s true!” The reply echoed from the burrowing hole. “ This unit was created by the first Arena Masters!

Though Master Dwarf’s devices are not terribly reliable.”

“DON’T CALL ME A DWARF!” The dwarf yelled and kicked below, causing the alien cyborg to yelp in pain. “And my gizmos work just fine!” He pulled a dirty scanner and slapped the device. “There’s so many damn energy signals that clean readings are impossible!

If that one cabron wasn’t so chinga-su-madre angry, I coulds level the Argent field out!”

“A what now?”

“Some new pendejo showed up some weeks back. Most fellas don’t show up in these scans, but this desgraciado is blindin’ my gizmos with his insane Argent emissions! I could filter him out like the rest of youse, but his energy spikes crazier than a sunstroked cabra with a rocket in its ass!

First he’s sad, then he’s angry, then he’s HORNIER THAN A LONGHORN BULL IN SUMMER HEAT! Someone’s gettin’ their rocks off, and droppin’ them on my head!”

“Duende,” Tyri asked curiously, “have you met the Slayer yet?”

“The whose?”

“ Ze… Doom Slayer?” Valeria added incredulously. “ Ze Scourge of Hell? Ze Slayer of Titans?”

“I AIN’T FOLLOW NO POLITICS!

TELL THIS CABRON TO KEEP HIS ROCKS IN HIS PANTS OR ELSE I’M-A SMASHIN’ THEM WITH A POWER HAMMER!”

“ KOBITO?! IS THAT YOU?!” The roaring voice of the Warden thundered from the Forsworn. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY SHIP??”

“GOTTA RUN!!” The dwarf exclaimed as he suddenly plunged into his tunnel.

“I’LL THROW YOU INTO A CELL SO SMALL, EVEN YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO STAND!!” The towering Warden roared as she stomped on the ground and earth-bent the rock floor open to reveal a fierce Duende holding onto a startled Orbb and raising a middle finger at her.

“UP YERS, LAWMAN!!”

Orbb swiveled his body and ignited his drill to suddenly power-tunnel through the exposed rock at tremendous speed, carrying the firm-gripped dwarf away and out of the Warden’s reach.

The Warden made a swift gesture and raised four Terracotta Knights from the crumbled ground.

“FIND HIM AND BRING HIM TO ME!” The commander yelled. “I WANT HIM LOCKED IN A SUPPLY BOX!!”

The earthen warriors blazed through the crowd in the direction the dwarf had gone, and the Warden made a fist and swiftly sealed the shattered ground before storming back into the fortress.

Valeria and Tyri stared on for a few moments in bewildered silence.

“Ahhh, I bet ze men went on mission just to not have to assist with lockdown procedure. Ze Slayer can be most uncooperative, und he’s a bad influence to Herr Grimm.”

“Thinking about the Slayer?” Tyri smirkingly leaned against the medic.

“Of course. Until he’s recovered, he is my patient, und his health is my utmost priority.”

“Don’t worry, doc. I’m sure he’s not getting a second opinion, if you know what I mean.” Tyri mischievously elbowed Valeria, who frowned in annoyance.

“I don’t believe I do,” the frowning medic responded, pushing the Operator aside. “My relationship vith my patients is purely professional, despite your insinuations.”

“Fine. Whatever you say.

Speaking of, what do you think they’re up to now?”

“ Vhat do you mean?”

“Look, those boys are tough and quite adept on their own, but put men together and they’ll become morons . And trust me, Cygnis can be quite the troublemaker himself. You don’t think they’re up to anything stupid, do you?”

“Certainly not. Ze Slayer might be a brute but he’s no fool.

I’m confident they’re conducting a perfectly tactical, sensible, and responsible operation.”

* * *

RWOOMM!!

Woah!

The interceptor heavily lurched and the soldiers swayed to keep their balance. Beyond their vessel, the packs of remaining Stormbeasts and Clawsquids screeched and soared into the distance.

“ We got company, boys! And it’s big!” Cygnis yelled back without a trace of concern.

“Where is it?!” The Marine and Grimm searched the nebulous space around the ship as the blood-drenched Wolf and Tiger returned from the rear bay, but no one could see anything beneath the cloud cover.

“ALL AROUND US!”

As if on cue, a swarm of basilisks began emerging from the cloud cover all around the interceptor and chased after the miniscule craft.

“WoaaAHHH! Cygnis! Give these guys a good run, won’t ya?!” Grimm yelled as his surprise morphed into excitement.

“Thought you’d never ask! Here we GO!”

The warriors had a moment to grab onto securement before Cygnis swerved the ship out of a Basilisk’s charge and dived to avoid another. He rolled and spun the craft across the swarm like an expert, skidding by jagged scales and directing one pursuing basilisk after another to crash into their kin and turn on themselves. Before long, massive splatters of blood and shell fragments soared beyond the ship.

A massive Elder Basilisk with a mouth stretching a hundred meters burst through the pack and rapidly gained on the interceptor. Instead of urging their captain to speed up, the Marine had an idea.

Cygnis! Bet you can’t take us out of that guy’s mouth right between his teeth!

“ Haha, really?! And here I thought you were going to have a CHALLENGE for me!

Everyone HANG TIGHT!!”

Cygnis brought the ship up and the warriors hung by the railings as the Elder Basilisk followed, its maw visible beyond the open rear bay below them and revealing a writhing bottomless pit of teeth and Hellfire. The demon’s jaws passed above them and cast the ship into the shadow of its infernal maw, but all the Marine could feel was the hammering of the heavy metal across his every cell.

“ LET ‘ER RIPPP!!”

Cygnis slammed the thrusters as the other warriors yelled from the sheer kickback and the demon’s jaws closed above them. Their pilot turned their ship to align with a gap in the teeth at the last possible second before pressing a button and flying the vessel through the passage without a moment to spare.

“MONSTRO EXPLODOOO!!”

In a split second, Cygnis spun in his seat and fired a roaring projectile from a massive golden cannon out from the ship and into the Basilisk’s jaws moments before they snapped shut behind them.

“WOOOOOO!!”

“YEAAAAHH!”

“Yes!”

“ROAAARRR!”

Cygnis and Grimm yelled in blood-pumping elation. Even Wolf and Tiger joined the cheering, but the Marine was entranced.

The thrill of the hunt, the camaraderie of fellow men, the brightness in his companions’ faces and the feeling of belonging.

Did he…feel like he belonged?

He did. For the first time since the Fall of Argent D’Nur, the Marine felt he was somewhere he actually belonged. For the first time in a long while, the Marine felt alive.

He felt he could stay with the Forsworn forever.

Behind the ship, the Basilisk’s detonation washed the world in a blinding golden light.

BOOOMMM!!

* * *

“All preparations are complete? All Forsworn at their designated stations?” Asked the Warden.

“Confirmed. We are ready,” replied the High Priestess.

“The Slayer is off the Jericho ?” The Imperator inquired.

“For now…,” the High Priestess muttered.

“Engage the lockdown.”

The short pale alien raised her staff and cast an incantation circle from its luminous orb. At once, the interior of the Jericho grew dim and sealing runes appeared upon the shut gates and doors throughout the flying fortress, confining all non-critical Forsworn members within their quarters or designated stations. A low hum reverberated in the air but the ship was otherwise silent.

Apart from the Imperator, Warden, High Priestess, Typhon, Hennya, and the High Three, standing at attention in the assembly chamber and in full battle gear, the Jericho appeared empty.

The High Priestess brought her staff down and released a brief pulse from its orb, transmitting a signal to the patient Black Fleet that they were ready to begin. Beyond the confines of the Jericho, a small dark craft would depart one of the ominous tetragonal vessels, rendezvous with the Jericho ’s airlock, and bring aboard the Black Fleet’s emissary. It might be an ambassador they’d seen before, perhaps an entirely new one. A hardened warrior of a thousand battles, a priest of the dark arts, a commander of world-ending legions.

Perhaps Rhulk the High Disciple.

Or Savathûn, the Witch Queen.

Whoever it might be, it would be an unnerving and sinister creature, aligned not with the living, Heaven, or Hell, but the darkness beyond Creation.

The servants of the Void demanded nothing, and took everything.

Tyri gulped nervously. She had slain countless monsters and brought the ruin of many empires, but the Void and those affiliated with it still brought her unease. Typhon assuringly placed a hand on her shoulder.

A mechanical thud echoed from the ship’s hull in front of the assembly crew as the foreign vessel made contact with the Jericho. There were whirring and clicking noises, and the hull unfolded to bring forth a small dark spherical craft into the chamber. The vessel was shielded against Hell’s reality not with protective sigils, but the shadowy substance of the Void itself.

A round opening manifested in the rippling surface of the vessel to reveal a hazy white interior. An array of smooth rectangular panels floated downwards to form a staircase, and four alien figures stepped forth from the vessel into the Jericho. Towering figures four meters tall with brick-red armor, featureless triangular heads, and long muscular arms holding arcane scythes atop their shoulders. Tormentors, elite enforcers of the Black Fleet.

“But if they’re here,” whispered Tyri, “does that mean-”

The emissary appeared, and Tyri fell silent in shock. The entity was tall yet eerily lithe, making no noise as it slowly descended from the craft as if gliding. A pitch-black gown composed of countless shifting scales clattered almost inaudibly, and the being’s movements left faint after-images in its wake. Its pose was relaxed yet dignified, both hands clasped in front with fingers intertwined and thumbs touching.

Its collar was raised high unto its face with only the upper half of its head visible at all. A plume of pale vapor or smoke emanated from its hairless scalp, blank faces manifesting and vanishing as the plume dissipated. Its skin was deathly pale, yet its eyes were two glossy pits of midnight. Clear, unblinking, knowing.

The rest of the Jericho assembly crew were too stunned to speak, but the Imperator broke the silence to greet the entity, the supreme authority of the Black Fleet and fellow Dark Lord.

“Welcome…Witness.”

[https://i.imgur.com/qRvbePc.jpg]

* * *

“ Hey Grimm, want some?” Cygnis excitedly exclaimed as he stepped from the pilot’s cabin, holding out a wad of a tough fibrous matter that resembled a mix of tree bark and dried meat. The dragonoid frequently chewed on this matter but whatever it was, it seemed barely edible to Grimm.

“Umm,” the soldier hesitated as he calibrated his rifle, “I’m good …”

“ Ha! Suit yourself! ” An unbothered Cygnis broke off a piece and flicked it into his jaws, toughly chewing as he offered some to the other crew members.

“ What about you fellas? Wolf? Tiger? Get some workout for those alien mandibles of you, my guy!”

The shinobi only made an averse expression and the Yautja immediately closed all four of its jaws.

“ Ha ha! Wow!

What about you, Slayer? Surely a macho man like you has more gusto than the rest of these pansies!”

…The fuck is that?

The puzzled Marine, who was configuring his Argent Metal armor, leaned in to smell the foodstuff offered by Cygnis, as he didn’t recognize what it was. Immediately a pungent smell penetrated his nostrils and the knowledge of what the matter was struck his memory like a hammer.

OH fuck! THAT’S what that is!

Get that stinking shit out of my face!

The Guncaster loudly cackled and threw himself onto the bench between Grimm and the Marine.

“Bunch of slack-jawed FAGGOTS around here!

This stuff will make you a goddamn sexual tyrannosaurus!

Just like me.”

Tiger squinted at Cygnis’ statements but Grimm smirked.

“I bet the chicks love the smell of gunpowder and cinders, eh Cygnis?”

“ Damn right they do! Still they whisper the name of Cygnis Flaynithere far throughout the cosmos! Boy, lemme tell you something, there’s no corner of the universe or pit in Hell that hasn’t felt the smoldering intensity of the Guncaster!

Cygnis Flaynithere, the Crimson Badass! There’s no beast he would not defeat and no lover he would not conquer!

Fearless hunter and daring casanova! Slayer of monsters and breaker of hearts!”

I think the title “Slayer” is already taken… The Marine sulked snidely.

“ Ohohohoh! A challenger rises!” The Guncaster guffawed good-heartedly. “ What about you, Slayer? What’s your other body count like?”

Excuse me?

“ Come on, surely someone as traveled as you has stories to tell! What are your glorious tales of conquest? Victory in the battlefield of love?”

The Marine frowned. I didn’t come here to talk about-

But Grimm spilled his secret. “He ‘conquered’ that quiet demon girl aboard the Jericho the other day!”

GRIMM!

Cygnis’ eyes flew wide open. “The doc’s little maid?! WHOAHOHOHO!! MY MAN!!” He yelled, proudly slapping an annoyed Marine on the back. “‘ Rip and tear, until it is done,’ eh?”

Ugghhh…

“ So THAT’S your type! Demon girls, eh? Interesting! I would have imagined, but I never thought you’d go for a Nymph!”

Huh?

“I have a few demoness notches under my belt myself! I crossed paths with a Succubus once and dealt with all that nonsense, but a Nymph… Whew!

You like to live dangerously! Playing with fire!”

The Guncaster turned to face the Marine, and for the first time since meeting him, he spoke in a low tone, and the Marine thought he could see a tinge of concern in the dragonoid’s eyes.

“ I just hope for your sake, your own fire is hotter. Otherwise…you might get burned.”

No one said anything for several moments. Grimm and Tiger looked questioningly at the Marine, who turned his gaze away.

“Hey Cygnis!” Grimm spoke suddenly. “You’ve been everywhere there is to fight, right? Tell me, what’s the industry like for a humble soldier these days, out there in the big cosmos?”

“ Oh man, lemme tell you! It’s not like the old days!” Cygnis replied with his usual enthusiasm once more. “ The fighting scene has changed much in the last few years!”

How so?

“Remember the guns you used to find back in the day, Slayer? Railguns, lightning guns, machine guns, frickin’ BLACK HOLE GUNS??”

Yeah?

“They’ve all been outphased! Too expensive and impractical! These days you only find fifty shades of pistol, shotgun, and rifle, all them handling the exact same!”

What?

“It’s true! What’s more, you used to upgrade them with grenade launcher attachments, incendiary rounds, flamethrower barrels, chainsaw bayonets! Now it’s all five percent more damage! Three percent faster reloading! Two percent faster aim-down-sights!”

Did you just say-

“AIM-DOWN-SIGHTS! AND RELOADING! We have quantum shit and future tech up the asshole, but apparently better aiming and auto feeding are too much to ask!”

“He’s right!” Grimm added. “Back at the UAC, all our guns needed reloading!”

You’re shitting me!

“Let me guess, your UAC had teleportation tech, phase shift tech, portal tech, even antigravity, right? Did you ever see any enhanced movement tech as a soldier?”

“No! Only the Elite Guards ever even got double-jump and dash modules!”

“Ha! Thought so!”

“Raaaawwwwrr! Click-click-click-click!” The Yautja suddenly added.

“ You said it, Tiger! Even the armors back in the day were unique and cool, and you earned entire suits as part of your contract! These days you have to buy or scavenge individual armor components that all look the same! Or craft them!”

THE FUCK.

“And when they did bring back the old reliable models that everyone loved, they’d find a way to make them worse! Pure nostalgia-bait while hating everything about the classics!”

“ One of my employers once released a revamped series of phase-sabers…they were BAD! Cheap soulless cash-grabs with none of the magic of the originals!

OH MAN, the MISSIONS! Used to be they dropped you on a planet full of monsters, gave you a gun the size of your swinging dick, and told you to kill everything that moved.

Now it’s all ‘sneak into enemy bases. Use stealth to shiv guys from the back or snipe 'em from afar. Collect relics. Find crafting supplies to improve your gear with simultaneously overly complicated and utterly pointless upgrade systems.’

No offense,” the Guncaster suddenly remarked to Wolf, who had remained quiet thus far.

“None taken,” replied the shinobi without looking up from his meditation.

“Lather. Rinse. Repeat.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad if the mission locations were at least cool! Back in the day you’d get sent to a shiny orbital station on Saturn’s rings or like, a badass methane canyon on Titan!

Now it’s all bombed-out urban locales, identical industrial sectors, or empty wastelands!”

“Man, forget the guns, armors, and missions! The corporations! The empires that span the cosmos these days, their attitudes are so BIZARRE!

They try to sympathize every fucking monster now, treating them not as evil or destructive but as ‘intelligent beings’ or ‘living species’ with their own societies, motives, and desire to live, for fuck’s sake!

Apparently it’s PEOPLE that are the ‘real monsters!’”

Whaaat.

“Forget the monsters, what about ourselves?! Our mech pilots used to deck out their machines with decals of pin-up girls, as they usually do…Can’t do that anymore! That’s against the rules!”

“NOT THE GIRLS!”

“They use those mechs to blow insurgents and rebels up to kingdom FUCK, but God forbid there’s a sticker of Rock-It Rachel on them!”

“ I bet your corporations had mascots, right? Badass dudes and bangin’ chicks? I bet they made the guys wimpy and the gals all tough and no-nonsense, right?”

“Yo, big guy, the UAC was gonna replace you,” Grimm suddenly added.

WHAT??

“The faceless, nameless Doom Marine had been their mascot for more than fifty years, but apparently they needed something more…‘representative.’ They were gonna replace you with a broad.”

NO!

“‘Doomgirl,’ was her name. Five foot tall, ninety pounds, with a blue sideshave and more sass than ass.”

FUCK!!

“Apparently it’s contagious because it spread to the Forsworn too! The Warden, Captain Killjoy that she is, enacted a dress code as soon as she was appointed! We used to have babes in skintight leotards and bikini armors! They could practically hide a rocket launcher in their cleavage!

But NO, women have to wear ‘adequate armor’ in battle!

Not the men though! The Oathbreaker and Destructor are still rockin’ those tactical loincloths, and I never get any shit for wearing just this leather jacket!”

“Must be a shadow agency spreading its influence across the cosmos!” Grimm humorously proclaimed. “A sinister conspiracy behind every empire and corporation, devoted to sanding off every edge and taking away everything fun, to make life utterly bland, generic, and boring across the universe!”

“AH this is refreshing!” Cygnis happily exclaimed as he stretched his various limbs. “ It’s great to hang out with other guys and just shoot the shit as a bunch of dudes!

Don’t get me wrong, the gals are great and I have nothing but respect for them and the Warden, but…ehh, they just don’t get it, you know?”

“Yeah. No disrespect to her, but someone must have put Baron Berries in her breakfast, cuz she’s allergic to fun.”

“ Ha! Someone fucking pissed in her cryopod humidifier!”

“PFFFT! Ha ha ha ha!”

“WOMEN. Amirite, fellas?”

“HAHAHAHA!”

Heh.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

“Oh this is it!” Yelled Cygnis as he suddenly shot up from his seat and returned to the cabin. “ Look alive, gentlemen! We’ve reached our destination! The Burning Sea of the Raging Inferno!”

The men stood up and finished equipping their weapons. Wolf got up from his meditation and stared out the window as a roiling storm outside the ship revealed the telltale glow of a vast fiery ocean on the horizon.

“ The Dragonheart Totems I gave you three will grant you heat resistance, long as you don’t go swimming in the lava!

As for me, well, I’m afraid I burn hotter than lava itself, my friends! Haha!”

“Damn, Cygnis! If you dropped into this ocean you’d boil it all away!”

“ Damn right! Everyone to your places, we drop in ten!”

WHOA whoa whoa! We’re dropping now?! The Marine asked as the others stood by the open bay doors.

“ Right you are, Slayer!”

Aren’t we gonna scout first, find a decent spot- at least LAND?!

“You’re welcome to try, but we’re jumping in six seconds and the ship will only be around for eight more!”

WE’RE ABANDONING SHIP??

“ That’s what happens when you shut off the protective shields and leave the windows open for fresh air!”

The Marine looked at the ship. Despite its Forsworn make, the craft had indeed taken heavy corrosive damage after prolonged exposure to Hell’s reality.

“Don’t worry, Slayer! We’re all highly competent geniuses! We’ll figure something out!

JUMP!”

Tiger snarled and leapt into the emptiness with Wolf close behind.

“See you on the other side, big guy!” Grimm clapped the Marine on the back, equipped his helmet, and threw himself into the storm.

“ Hey Slayer! Move it or lose it!

WOO-HOO!!”

The Guncaster merely leaned back and opened his wings as he fell through the bay door, plummeting like a comet into the burning Inferno.

He thinks he’s so damn cool.

As the ship began to malfunction and disintegrate behind him, the Marine made a new song selection on his Argent Metal Armor, equipped his helmet, and jumped off as the Forsworn interceptor erupted in a thundering fireball and the heavy metal began blasting from his suit’s speakers.

* * *