Hidden in a dark alleyway, illuminated by the white flames of a burning street, laid a tear in the fabric of reality. A portal to another world, or so Dale assumed. Where it led, he had no clue, but he was certain Drifter passed through it.
Refusing to be left behind, he steeled himself for whatever horrors waited on the other side and crossed through the dimensional rift.
The experience felt instantaneous. In a single flash of light it was already over. Dale landed on the rough earth beneath him, checking his body to see if he made it in one piece. As the portal sealed shut, he checked his surroundings.
A barren wasteland of rusty stone, devoid of all life. Rundown shanty homes made from mud and dirt that were built up against the slopes of a cliff that spiralled downwards into a quarry. There was no wind, nor was there a sky, just craggy walls off in the far horizon, that stretched upwards endlessly into pitch darkness.
Looking over the edge of the road, Dale peered into the bottom of the quarry, hoping it would give him some context for what this area could be, but it was just an empty abyss. There was nothing of interest, it was like the whole place was enclosed in a massive crater.
To his right, stood a colossal stone tower, connected via a marble bridge. It had an imposing presence, whoever lived there clearly had power over the residents of the quarry, if there were any.
The site wasn’t entirely abandoned however, as just up ahead, Dale spotted a familiar white coat. He was so enamored with the new locale, he nearly forgot why he was there in the first place.
Dale rushed after the man. “Hey! Drifter, wait!”
The man sighed as he turned around. After catching his breath, Dale was ready to lay into him.
“What in the holy hell were you thinking!? Do you have any idea what you were even doing!?”
Drifter said nothing.
“Well, do you!?”
“You came all the way to Hell to lecture me?”
“What the hell? We’re in… Hell…?”
“Hell. The Demon World. Essex. It’s all the same.”
“But, where’s all the fire and brimstone and tiny devils sticking pitchforks in people’s butts?”
“Long dead, or maybe they never existed.”
“So, are we in a specific circle of Hell, or what?”
“Circles? The demon world’s not that grandiose.This is probably where those smelly oily cunts came from.”
“Oh… that’s disappointing.”
Sadly, Hell was not as disturbing or bombastic as Dale imagined it to be. No tortured souls of the damned, or lakes of fire, or volcanic spires shooting magma. This world didn’t scream phantasmal nightmares, it was just depressing.
Drifter continued on his way, as Dale quickly realised what he just did.
“You bastard! You deflected my question!”
His cry fell on deaf ears, as Drifter kept on walking.
“Those were innocent lives, Drifter and they were snuffed out by you! You didn’t even try to save them! You just murdered them, like they were nothing!”
Drifter stopped. “What happened to that woman from earlier?”
“Wha- she’s…”
“Dead, isn’t she.”
“She saved me… she stabbed that monster in the eye, but it wasn’t enough and before I could do anything…”
“Human lives mean nothing to demons, we’re objects to them. They’ll use us as hostages, food, weapons or kill us as entertainment.”
“But, why did you…?”
“Don’t play their games. We’re tools to them after all, and who the hell bargains with a tool? Just kill them and move on.”
“But, that’s not fair…”
“Life's not fair.”
Though saddened by this harsh truth, Dale remained vigilant. It may look empty, but this was still the demon world.
“I don’t care what Drifter says. Just because he’s jaded doesn’t mean I have to be. If he won’t save people, then I will… s-somehow…”
As they reached the bridge to the tower, a sudden thought crossed Dale's mind.
“Wait… Why are we here?”
“Philosophy isn’t my thing.” Drifter replied.
“No, I mean. Why did you come to Hell, or the demon world, or whatever this place is?”
“They mentioned something about Lucifer, so I got curious.”
“Going after the prince of darkness, already?”
“No, but I’m sensing a demonic presence in that tower. I’ll probably get some answers there.”
“You’re surprisingly talkative.”
Drifter suddenly went silent.
“Yeah, real mature…”
As they continued along the bridge, Dale took note of the two gargoyle statues, sitting on pillars at the center of the stone walkway. He was impressed by their incredibly detailed craftsmanship, with each individual scale carved into their body. They were almost lifelike. They even started shivering the moment they got close.
“Oh, balls…”
The pair of gargoyles awakened from their slumber, spread their wings and soared into the sky, circling the two from above like vultures. They were around the same height as Dale himself and easily grabbed the defenceless boy with their sharp talons.
“Dammit! Let go!”
Dale tried to fight back, but the monster had already flown high enough that breaking free would result in a deadly fall.
The second gargoyle flew after Drifter. Without even flinching, he waited for the demonic bird to close in. Even with the speed the creature flew at, the second it made a swipe at him, Drifter slipped to the side, without moving a muscle. He violently clasped at the bird’s neck, yanked it out of the air and without hesitation, crushed its throat. He discarded the lifeless monster and left it for dead.
From above, he saw Dale carried off to the top of the tower. Drifter showed no concern, in fact, he was amused by the prospect of a demon believing they had just kidnapped his ally. Drifter didn’t need any persuasion, he was coming for them whether they liked it or not.
The white marble tower was stained a dirty red by dust and decay, with its giant stone doors cracked and frail. Too impatient to go to the hassle of prying them apart, Drifter simply punched a massive hole in the door and strolled through.
Inside, the tower was decorated by stone seats with murals covering the walls, depicting darkness, demons and a winged being emitting a light that seemed to illuminate the land like the Sun. The room felt like the inside of a church.
On the other side of the room, was a human-like demon, wearing robes, like a priest. With dark grey skin and long hair, flowing over his cloak.
“Welcome, to the Tower of Heylel. I am Priest Ferrum.” He greeted. “Although, I find it rather insulting to bring the Legendary Demon Sword to such a sacred place.”
“Okay?” Drifter had no clue what he meant.
“You look confused. Are you not aware of our Lord, Lucifer?”
“Not the religious type.”
“I see, so you are not aware of Lucifer’s greatness. The one who casts light upon the darkness and reveals the truth hidden deep in the abyss of one’s heart. With his guidance and strength, our kind were able to live under his light in this otherwise blackened world.”
“Could you shut the fuck up about your dumb religion for a minute? Is this Lucifer guy around or what?”
“Only the master of this tower can answer that question. I am but his humble servant. Come, I shall take you to him.”
Drifter groaned, knowing full well this was obviously a trap, but he didn’t survive this long, in a demon infested world, without learning how to muscle his way through an ambush.
The gargoyle dropped Dale at the top of the tower. He didn’t appreciate landing face first, nor the chilling gust of wind kicking dust in his eyes, but at least he wasn’t seriously injured.
Dale then spotted a lone demon, standing on the edge of the tower and immediately attempted to sneak away from it.
“Where are you going, boy?” The demon asked.
“Shit.“ Dale cursed. “You’re not going to kill me, are you?”
“No. You are bait.”
Dale was confused by the demon’s calm demeanor. It kept its back turned, but he could tell they had a humanlike appearance, but with grey skin and claw-like hair, his body hidden behind a black cape.
The demon seemed surprisingly civil, but Dale still needed clarification on who he was baiting.
“Are you after Drifter?”
“If you are referring to the human wielding the sword, then yes.”
“You… might want to quit while you’re ahead.”
“He’s already entered the tower.”
“Don’t tell me you’re gonna fight him.”
“We’ll see. The priest wishes to test him first.”
“Um… why? What do you want from him?”
The demon finally faced Dale and upon his face was the same detached look as Drifter. Total ambivalence, with only a single purpose driving him.
“Tell me, human? What is it like, living in a world full of light? A world that’s prosperous and beautiful?”
“The only world I know is dark, dirty and depressing. For a society so prosperous and beautiful, they sure didn’t waste any time throwing me in the gutter.”
“I see… it seems humanity hasn't changed much since the days of Lucifer.”
“What‘s that supposed to mean? You think demons are better than us!?”
“Demons are naturally more powerful than humans and yet, it was humanity who was given a world of light. A world they do not deserve. A world they take for granted…”
“That’s no excuse for going around fucking everything up! Our world wasn’t that bad, until you guys started destroying it!”
“Says the gutter boy.”
“Well, you know what? The gutter is still better than this dried out dump!”
“Fool. You become defensive of your own race over a mere insult, even though it was that very same race that ignored your plight and threw you away like trash. Blindly defending the ones who neglected you, a slave to your own tribalistic ways. For too long I've seen my own kind fall victim to such stupidity and it seems humans are no different.”
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“What are you trying to say?”
A small spire, raised from the floor next to the demon. Sitting on top was a stone shrine, with a sharp knife, shaped like a scimitar, but with no handle, just a raw blade.
“These weapons were to be gifted to those who earned the respect of Lucifer, but this blade never found a wielder. Therefore, I will choose in his place. Now, either reject the human world and take up this blade as an honorary demon, or continue to live your pathetic life in a world that abandoned you.”
“No way. What would I want with a demon… weapon… wait, will this thing give me demonic powers, like Drifter?”
“If power is what you are looking for, then I’m certain that is what it will provide.”
Drifter followed the demon priest up a spiraling staircase. The two didn’t speak a word to each other, as they silently ascended the tower, until a ceiling came into view. A room, approximately halfway up the tower.
This was it. Drifter was prepared for whatever trap was waiting for him in that room. They arrived as Ferrum signaled Drifter to stop as he unlocked the door.
“Please, follow me.”
“What kind of church has a colosseum in it?”
The room was a large empty space, with seats against the walls and stained glass windows.
“This place was where Lord Lucifer would watch as his followers battled with each other.” The priest explained.
“What?”
“He always had a fascination for watching lesser beings compete with each other. Those who proved themselves to be the most powerful became his closest disciples.”
“Were there twelve of them?” Drifter jest.
“No one knows… this old tower is falling apart. Rotting away, much like the memories of those ancient times. The days of Lucifer’s rule are long gone and me and my master are the last remaining descendants of the guardians of this sacred ground.”
“You dragged me all the way up here for a history lesson?”
“That sword… what does it mean to you?”
“It’s a weapon.”
“Is that all? Such a mundane and simple answer. Are you oblivious or just feigning ignorance? To me and descendants, that weapon was the catalyst that changed everything. Its existence is the demon world’s curse.”
“Look, is Lucifer still around or not?”
“Only my master is allowed to answer such questions.”
“Of course he is…”
“In order to meet with my master I must first test you.”
“Of course you do…”
“Now, en guarde!”
Ferrum’s robes tore off as he revealed the blades jutting out of his arms. Drifter didn’t even flinch and simply waited for the knived demon to make a move.
The priest darted forward, planning to rip Drifter to shreds for daring to leave his guard down, but Drifter stayed calm, his hands placed comfortably in his pockets. The second the priest invaded his personal space, Drifter’s leg instantly sprung up, booting Ferrum clean in the stomach, killing his momentum.
As the priest lumbered back in shock and agony, Drifter lifted his fist to Ferrum’s face. Without even moving a muscle, the priest was suddenly flung to the other side of the room. Drifter unleashed a force of energy from his fist, like a gun firing a blank, with enough force to carry a fully grown man several feet.
“So, what were you trying to test with that move?” Drifter asked, condescendingly. “If it was my speed, I’d say I more than passed.”
The priest was still in shock. He wished to test the power of the Legendary Demon Sword, but Drifter hadn’t even drawn his blade yet. He barely moved and yet, his retaliation was impossibly swift and precise.
It all happened too fast for him to get a grasp on how much power the sword was putting out. Was Drifter holding back, or did he attack so quickly that Ferrum couldn’t even sense it?
Picking himself up, Ferrum was determined to gauge Drifter’s power. In a burst of adrenaline, the priest darted around Drifter, to attack from the back, but Drifter’s reactions were on point. His body glowed with a white aura, as he tracked the priest’s movements, turning 180 degrees with him, meeting him face-to-face.
Ferrum was awestruck, Drifter followed him perfectly, but he didn’t counterattack. He simply watched, daring Ferrum to make a move. The priest obliged and assaulted him with his claws.
With every swipe Drifter ducked and with every jab Drifter side stepped. No matter how fast Ferrum attacked, Drifter was reacting far too quickly for him to land a single clean hit. The whole time, Drifter kept the same emotionless expression, as if he had seen these exact lame movements before.
Flailing wildly clearly wasn’t working, Ferrum needed to catch Drifter by surprise. In the midst of his attacks, the priest’s arm blades retracted into his body and without warning, burst out of his chest, stabbing deep into Drifter’s abdomen.
While satisfied that he had finally exploited one of Drifter’s openings with a decisive strike, Ferrum was curious as to why there was no blood. He soon looked on in horror as the visage of Drifter he stabbed slowly dissipated.
It was an illusion, an afterimage, left behind by Drifter’s ludicrous speed. The real Drifter was standing casually, a mere millimeter outside the blade’s range. Drifter lifted his fist and once again, released another explosive burst of power, sending the priest flying across the room a second time.
“How is this possible?” Ferrum questioned, stumbling onto his feet. “The Legendary Demon Sword is only supposed to enhance your power. How can a human, a being far less powerful than a demon, outclass me by such a wide margin? That strength… you can’t be human, what the hell are you!?”
“You’re no different from the others.” Drifter calmly criticised. “You throw your weight around without any thought and expect that to be enough. Then you go into catatonic shock when I start stomping your shit in. All because you assume humans are inferior. That they couldn’t possibly stand up to a demon. You’re an idiot.”
“Idiot? A human, calling a demon an idiot? Humanity are the real idiots. You’re soft, weak and entitled. You’re like insects compared to us. Compared to Lucifer! He should have exterminated you when he had the chance, but instead he fell victim to your… Huh!?”
Ferrum lifted his head, he was so busy ranting he hadn’t noticed Drifter already heading for the exit.
“Where are you going!?”
Drifter didn’t even give Ferrum the courtesy of acknowledging his existence and kept walking, muttering under his breath. “Useless twat, I’ll find your master on my own.”
“You… arrogant… worm! A moronic human… and that accursed sword! You… you symbolise everything that’s wrong with our world… and you dare treat me… like I’m useless!?”
The priest’s rage boiled, decades of seething jealousy for humanity and hatred for the weapon that ruined his land rushed into him all at once. Ferrum’s pride as a demon, as a follower of Lucifer and his disgust at being bested by a human, drove his bloodlust. His muscles tensed and his power soared.
“I can’t accept a loss like this… not to a human… not to that sword! I’ll deliver you to the master in bloody pieces!”
In one final display of undying conviction, the priest lunged towards Drifter faster than he ever had in his entire life. This was no longer a test, this was a battle of dignity. The human had to die.
But, as the priest closed in, his body suddenly became so petrified, he nearly went into convulsions. Time slowed to a crawl as he watched as Drifter’s aura flared up.
His sword was already unsheathed, resting on the ground, held backhanded and with a flick of his arm, Drifter swiped behind him. He swung with such force, it cut the air itself, slicing through the priest and even shattering the windows at the far back of the room. The attack came out so fast, Ferrum was still in mid-run, but the force of the blow lifted him into the air, as his body was bisected.
The last moments Ferrum witnessed, before he was blinded by death’s darkness, was the back of the human who slayed him, already leaving the fight. His death barely qualified as a footnote. Just another wasted effort. The two bloody halves of his body slid across the floor and were left to rot.
Drifter continued to the top of the tower. Fighting the priest put him in a foul mood. “All I wanted was an answer to a very simple question, but these demons have always gotta play games. They can never keep their damn egos in check.”
He didn’t have the patience for it anymore. He busted through the final stone door and arrived at the top of the tower. A strong wind kicked up dust on the hard, stone roof. Even at the top of the tower, the dirt from the desert roads still infected the air.
Dale looked deep in thought, staring at the ground. On the other side of the tower was a demon of the same race as the priest, only he appeared more mature, resolved and powerful.
“So… you finally made it to the top.” The demon greeted, as Drifter responded with his usual glare. “I am Rado, the current master of The Tower of Heylel. I assume you passed my servant’s test?”
“Another pointless death to add to my never ending list.” Drifter replied.
“His death was not pointless. Thanks to his sacrifice, we can confirm that the Legendary Demon Sword’s power is very real and far exceeded our expectations. It seems Locke wasn’t speaking nonsense. The one who unlocks that blade’s full potential will have the power to bring this world back from the brink of extinction. All we have to do now is take it back.”
“How many fucking times do I have to kill you dumb arseholes? Five years you’ve been doing this! Are demons just naturally suicidal!?”
“I have other methods of defeating you besides direct confrontation.” Rado taunted, throwing the curved blade on the pedestal at Dale’s feet. “Right, boy?”
After some serious thought, Dale considered using the blade, but was interrupted by Drifter.
“Touch that thing and you’re dead, kid.”
Drifter’s order offended Dale. “Oh, now you’re looking out for me!? I thought you didn’t care about what I did!?”
“I’d rather not kill a human, if I don’t have to.”
“Are you fucking serious!? What about all those humans you burnt alive!? You didn’t have much trouble killing them!”
“We’ve been over this. Those people were dead the moment they were captured.”
“But, you didn’t even try!”
“Did you?”
“What!? You… you know I couldn’t do anything… even if I tried…”
Drifter paused to think for a moment. “Fine, do what you want. You’re just distracting me.”
He turned his attention back on the demon.
Dale didn’t have the drive to pursue the issue any further. Drifter’s warning was causing him to second guess himself. Instead, he opted to take a step back and let Drifter finish his business. Not that he had any power to stop him.
“I didn’t climb this godforsaken tower to listen to stupid religious lectures, or take some gay test. I just have one question. Is Lucifer alive?”
Rado’s face grew serious, almost angered by Drifter’s callousness.
“Tell me, human. Have you noticed the wind bellowing around this tower?”
“Oh my God, really…?”
“Have you noticed how this world has no sky? No Sun or Moon to cast its light upon the land. An impassable ceiling, oppressing the people with its impenetrable darkness.”
“You’re not listening.”
“But, how can a world with no Moon have wind? How can a world with no Sun still have light?”
“Stop it.”
“This world was once bountiful and beautiful, as the people bathed in the light of our lord and saviour, but as you can see it is a shadow of its former self, surrounded by Abbadon’s death and decay, with no hope of escape for any of us.”
Drifter pointed his finger as a small spark shot out towards the preaching demon. The moment it made contact with the demon’s skin, the spark detonated like a bomb, leaving a gaping wound in Rado’s right shoulder, gushing blood, as he grasped at it in agony. The spark was so miniscule in size, Rado hadn’t even noticed its presence until it had snuck right in front of him, interrupting his monologue.
“Shut the fuck up.” Drifter ordered. “Now, is Lucifer alive, yes or no?”
The demon regained some footing and continued.
“This land… was once prosperous… inhabited by warriors, priests and commoners alike. All united under the rule… of our God, Lucifer. But, once he disappeared, by the hands of that accursed sword, the demon world fell apart…”
A white hot razor suddenly sliced through the demon’s left shoulder, weakening him even further with more blood loss. Drifter had pulled his sword, which was smoking from the projectile he just fired from it.
“Cut the crap. Just tell me what happened.”
Determined to tell his tale to the end, Rado continued. “This world… had many false gods… rise to power… but none of them… held a candle to Lucifer… they became obsessed… with the power of that sword… the sword that slayed Lucifer… endless fighting… over a power… this world never needed…”
“Finally, we’re getting somewhere.” Drifter sighed.
“Locke… I hate to admit this, but… he is the only one… this world has left… the only one who truly understands… if he can obtain the Legendary Demon Sword… we can begin a new world… and rebuild this wasteland…”
“Fine, Lucifer's gone. So, who’s this Locke guy?”
Rado remained silent, he wasn’t going to divulge such important information to a human.
“Is he the one who unleashed demons into my world?”
Again, there was no response.
“What’s with the silent treatment!? If Locke’s such hot shit, then tell me more!”
“At this point, I’d rather die…”
Drifter groaned. “What a waste.”
He aimed his sword as it lit up, glowing a burning white, until it fired a razor sharp beam that tore through the demon’s chest, dealing a fatal blow. The blood loss from his new wound was the final nail in the coffin, as Rado coughed up crimson mucus and fell to his knees. His vision blurred, his body could barely stay up and he soon fell on his back, having lost all his energy.
Dale was awed by Rado’s story. It sounded genuine, like they were struggling for more than just a selfish desire for power, but Drifter didn't care. He was entirely focused on his new objective: Find Locke.
Everything else was irrelevant, including the motivations of the demons he was fighting. To him they were just dumb monsters.
After walking past Rado’s body, Drifter mumbled to himself.
“Another one…” He slashed at the air, creating a rip in the fabric of reality. “I thought I sensed some weird shit up here… does that mean this Locke guy is close?”
Drifter entered the portal. Dale attempted to chase after him, not wanting to be left in the demon world, but stopped when he heard the dying cry of Rado.
“…the arm blade…”
“No thanks… I don’t wanna be cursed, or die, or whatever that thing does.”
“...it is the last remnant of my kind… take it with you… so that we won’t be forgotten…”
Dale picked up the blade and examined it, reconsidering the option to use it.
“Are you sure this thing won’t try to mind control me or something?”
“In the end… all I could do… was preserve one simple weapon… Why…? Why couldn’t I do more…?”
“Hey, how do I even use this thing? It doesn’t have a handle.”
Distracted by the strange weapon, Dale hadn’t noticed that Rado had drawn his final breath. Even if he was a monster, Dale couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the devil who ultimately just wanted to play his part in saving their world.
As Dale looked over Rado’s body, the blade suddenly began merging into his arm, sinking into the skin. “Oh, Jesus! It is cursed!?”
It completely buried itself in his arm, attaching to his bone until it disappeared inside him. Terrified as to what just happened, Dale desperately picked at his arm to try and dig the blade out, only for it to jut outwards below his elbow.
Without even thinking, he could freely retract the blade in and out of his lower arm, like it was an extra limb. As if that wasn’t bizarre enough, his body felt lighter. He felt renewed and refreshed, brimming with energy. He wasn’t sure to what extent, but this demon weapon felt like it was enhancing his body’s capabilities. It gave him newfound confidence.
“I couldn’t have saved them, even if I tried… but, now… with this blade, I can be a real hero. Maybe I’m getting in over my head, but it’s worth a try at least. Anything’s better than sitting around, praying for a miracle. But before I can jump into any of that, there’s one thing I’ve gotta do first. I’m gonna give that bastard a piece of my mind.”