“Baptists,” Seraph spoke through the System, serious and grave, “I approve of your excursion. The nearest team is seven minutes away but we cannot afford to waste more time than we already have, not after taking casualties and leaving Carn the ability to escape. You have the means to neutralize the cognitive hazard, penetrate the demesne, and capture Fragment Carn.

“I’m afraid we do not have the proper intel on his capabilities as a Fragment of the Lesser Watcher but you’ll need to work together, improvise and adapt to the situation as it changes. I am asking a lot of you, especially when this is your first time working together as a cohesive unit, but you have come a long way since the beginning of the outbreak.

“You’ve experienced greater tribulations than most Slayers; you’ve seen the worst that the multiverse has in store. These experiences hardened you, enlightened you of who you really are—as Slayers. I believe that, today, you will finally earn humanity a proper victory. Godspeed, Baptists."

The demesne was discovered when Shinzo made the Dawn Baptists aware of its existence, wanting them to personally investigate it. As it turned out, the demesne had been discovered days prior due to the cognitive hazard infecting dozens of civilians and Ordoian forces. But that in itself couldn’t guarantee relevance to Carn or Pereyra.

It was only when they arrived at the location that a new temporary member of the Baptists confirmed it: the demesne contained cosmic energy; there was no doubt about it, then. The demesne that Shinzo alerted them to was the same demesne that Pereyra had used to conduct surveillance on Ordo, then was later transferred to Carn’s control.

“So I'm just gonna take a big and wild guess and say we can't just blast our way in, right?” Firebrand said shortly after their arrival in the area, huddled inside a building a street away. Before they finalized their plans to Seraph.

“Of course not, dummy. A cognitive hazard will eat through what little brain you have, and that goes for everyone,” snapped Sage, whose voice rang in everybody’s ears through the Slayer System. “If you don’t know what a cognitive hazard is, Sage will give you a quick explanation: they are probably one of the scariest things to ever exist in the multiverse. Just as frightening as the Comets or eldritch gods or an evil otherself. These things attack your mind when perceived by any of the five senses in all sorts of interesting and horrifying ways.

“And Pereyra’s demesne qualifies one-hundred percent! ‘Cause once you visually perceive it, you feel intense anxiety but more importantly, it can and will alter your thoughts and we can't fix ya. Scary, right? Well, Sage will give it a B-minus on the horror scale. Some hazards turn you into murderers or make you lose complete grasp on reality. Honestly, Sage thought it’d be way worse considering it’s a cosmic-grade demesne.”

“They can turn you into a murderer?!” Vernon whispered in a soft panic.

“So how are we going to collapse the demesne?” asked Gul, looking around the strike force in its entirety. “Seraph ordered us to pool our resources and see if we can attack it; otherwise, we’ll have to wait for the others.”

Once she asked that question, everyone turned and stared at him.

On a rooftop, Damien Fayer lifted his new staff that he had obtained during Operation Darkspace: an expedition into Darkrealm's Hold with Royals Guild. It was a weapon of odd design whose shaft was an unblemishable white, topped with a black depthless diamond.

He raised it with the one arm he had, where the other was lost in Operation Scorcher but that concerned him little. Not with his [Demon Constitution] given to him through demonic birthright originating from his father, Duskfire, the Chief Slayer of the American Alliance. It was precisely because he was part-demon that the Baptists were able to combat the demesne to begin with.

Damien’s dark hair violently flourished as he activated his staff, eyes vibrantly popping with flame-color as his voice boomed and echoed throughout the streets, speaking these words: “Reverse creation and regress this world to its primordial roots, Devoy!”

He slammed the butt of the staff down onto the rooftop, and his calls beckoned the entity within.

[Contract: Devoy]

During the events of the operation into Darkrealm’s Hold, Damien was able to form a contract with an entity of a Void Demon by the name of Devoy, who had taken the form of a staff. For the duration of the outbreak, Devoy would aid humanity in exchange for “something important”—as described by Damien, intentionally keeping the finer details of their contract a secret for now.

He was the one who sensed cosmic energy in the demesne due to his nature as a high-grade demon with creation-level powers.

“I will be able to negate the demesne,” stated Devoy through the staff, the diamond gem humming a faint white hue around the edges as he spoke to the Baptists. His voice was empty and unemotive. “Trees need earth to bury roots. Castles need foundations to rise. Meteorites must have land to fall. Void is the inexistence of such things.”

The air uneasily shifted once Damien made the order as he kept his back turned to that place, not daring to look.

“It is done,” Devoy told him, without a hint of excitement or exertion in his voice. He took himself out of Damien’s hands and levitated freely off the ground, the entire staff now glowing a pearl color. “As expected, the cosmic demesne is resisting the Void so I am not able to consume it. The defenses have fallen, however. The cognitive hazard is temporarily removed. Act now. I will maintain the Void.”

“You could sound more excited by this,” Damien said, hesitating to turn around knowing the consequences, but he reminded himself of the provisions in their contract. Still, a part of him disliked having his brain toyed with but he spun on his feet, looking in that direction. “This is your first time attacking the stars themselves.”

“Speak less.”

Although the void hadn’t destroyed the demesne completely—most likely due to its anomalous powers as a cosmic-grade demesne—its defenses had fallen and thus gave the rest of the Baptists their one and only opportunity to seize Fragment Carn.

Down below on the streets of Ordo, they were hiding behind corners and waiting for the faithful moment. The application of Void was instantaneous like one frame popping to the next in a low-quality video, and while they couldn’t physically see the change, they felt it. Deep inside their minds, as they sensed a thousand—more than that—tens of thousands of eyes now watching them with cosmic intensity.

There, located on 5618 Raksha Avenue, was an incomprehensible structure of rough and moving geometry, intricately coordinating together like an impossibly elaborate steampunk machine. Among every face of the odd shapes and the edges, inside and out, were bulging, massive eyes. The same ones found on Pereyra. Jittering, jolting, jerking.

Gul was the first to step forward, sweat pouring down her head. “Let’s move! Firebrand!”

“Right behind ya!” he roared, sprinting with Gul with blazing footsteps trailing behind him, manning the front-line.

They moved ahead of the group, leading with their combined powers as high-rankers and elemental specialists. A fair bit of distance separated them and the remaining Baptists, pacing themselves to account for rank differences.

There were hundred meters between them and their destination.

It took no more than fifty steps to encounter their first obstacle: from the windows. Just like before, throughout the hours-long search, Fragment Carn had attacked pursuing units and teams via reflections in windows. This was no different here. The buildings surrounding the Baptists flooded with red light.

“Above us!” shouted Alexander as the air reeked of acid once more.

Problem raised his arms, and manifesting in the air were complex ritual circles that were the shade of occult purple. He calculated the attacks’ trajectories and placed the circles in their direct paths, using them as physical shields. Like drums in a parade, the street roared in clamorous bangs one after another.

These were weak compared to the original article. Problem’s ritual-shields would’ve been destroyed the moment the beams collided.

That was reassuring.

“Now, Firebrand!” Gul cried, throwing her hands forward and guiding them across the left side of the street.

From behind a massive sparkling blue wave of water emerged and crashed into the buildings on her side like a tsunami, taking out the remaining windows.

Responding in kind, Firebrand hooted an exhilarated cry and a thick curtain of fire engulfed the right side.

Building-by-building, no reflections would remain for Fragment Carn, severely decreasing his avenues of attack. And they would only deplete further as the group went further along, sprinting down the perilous street, creating a mesmerizing display of fire and water.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Then, distantly, something popped. Loud as a gunshot. Alexander instinctively ducked his head thinking more Apocalyptics were around the corner but he couldn’t be more wrong. In front of the demesne was a collage of assorted monsters, ugly and murderous and foul, falling from the buildings like corpses.

The windows.

Carn and the Sungrazers had anticipated that Ordo would take out the windows before he had a chance to attack, so this was a contingency: turning them into OBDs. The windows would break but they’d be destroyed either way.

And so the monsters exponentially grew, turning from a cobbled-together crew into a sizable battling force that could siege a small city. The two high-rankers saw what was coming and hurled their elemental waves further down the street, far and fast-moving, drenching most of the structures in their path before swooping hard onto the fiendish mass, clashing together into a dense and scalding steam.

About a third of the monsters were killed instantly, but the rest had been protected by an organized unit of gnome-sized, robed warlocks maintaining a cracked purple-black barrier. Their arms were strained, bodies stressed.

“Ha, that wasn’t all I got!” Firebrand exclaimed as the ground beneath his feet began to glow red.

“Don’t break formation!” Gul screamed at him.

Firebrand was known for going solo during expeditions, a bad habit that he picked up early in his career. But it seemed the Disaster had wisened him. Made him more of a team player. Just as the flames of rebellion brightened, they were extinguished by Gul’s words and so he stayed.

Instead…

[Skill Activation: Cerulean Inferno Merge - Second Stage]

He was heating up, a fiery blue.

“Stick together! Always keep moving!” Alexander reminded everyone, firmly grasping his [Sword of Conquerors], knowing how dangerous it’d be if they split up—

An odd noise interrupted his thoughts from above his head.

Someone shouted and something crashed near Alexander. He smacked hard against the asphalt and rolled uncontrollably until his back hit the curb, his sword scattered a feet from him, and there emerging from the smoke was a large dusky ogre strapped with flopping metal plates.

A few more rained from the sky, having teleported in from the mages within the cavalcade.

Shit.

Alexander scrambled for his [Rosario] which was strapped around his shoulder, but the ugly motherfucker was faster than him in his dazed state. It raised its rust-iron broadsword befitting for its size before Alexander could aim his rifle.

Peach-color flashed into view, a woman wearing a pious black and white battledress with clinking accessories, including a necklace with the image of Alm. There were no fear in her movements. No hesitation. Just a prodigious warrior as natural in combat as Alexander was.

“This is Votary,” Damien had introduced her during the planning stages with a teasing smile. “She's the youngest member of High Dominion, who assisted Problem and me during Operation Darkspace.”

Votary had bowed her head, and she had an elegant demeanor about her. Every gesture she had made was smooth, controlled, and graceful. As expected from a member of High Dominion, one of the top-tier teams within Angels Guild that specialized in faith magick.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you all,” she had said, having a small and polite smile. “I, well, I don’t know what to say about myself that the demon hasn't already. So erm, I've decided to transfer to your team with Seraph's and White Herald's permission. I know that I'm a senior for many of you here, so I'll do my best to take care of you."

Damien had rested his only hand at his side. “Don’t be fooled by her politeness. She doesn’t trust me or Devoy. In fact, she’s a lot like Alex. Both have devils inside of them, but unlike him she's a killer nun.”

Votary had cleared her throat, tense and tight. Her smile had been coiled like a spring ready to snap. “I am not a killer nun! I have you know that I also have healing capabilities, demon.”

He had retorted, "That doesn't make you a healer—"

Problem had pulled Alexander to the side and whispered, “Technically, Votary does fill a healer role. Which we need. However…”

With mesmerizing agility, Votary leapt and a golden arc flashed, amputated both of the ogre's thick arms. They dropped with a meaty thunk and a metal clank. Beautifully spinning in the air, her [Aurum Scythe] twirled around her body and came down to split the green-thing's skull in half like a hot knife through butter.

The scythe-blade whipped, splashing blood and brain matter across the asphalt.

Votary turned to Alexander. “Conqueror—!”

“Behind you!” he shouted, already raising his [Rosario].

A few holes were blasted into the ogre behind her who was wielding a heavy club. It staggered back, wobbling as though it'd drunken too much ale, before taking a few inches of gold-steel into its chin, coming out of its putrid mouth.

Votary clenched her teeth before lifting the war-ogre off its feet and slammed it onto its back. From her dress, she retrieved an engraved silver sawn-off shotgun, pressed it against the ogre’s skull.

Bang.

No wonder Damien pointed out similarities between them.

Alexander returned to his feet and retrieved his [Sword of Conquerors]. “Thanks, Votary.”

“Of course.” She looked down at him and frowned. “You’re bleeding. Here.”

Votary tapped the butt of her scythe’s shaft. From the front-end, which had engravings of some biblical allusion, a warm, heavy light fell on Alexander. His scratches and minor wounds were healed up.

[Grace Series: Aurum Scythe], one of the weapons forged by Judas. It could absorb the Essence of monsters and convert the energy into healing power. Which was perfect for the lady since she was really good at killing monsters.

“Alright then…” Alexander gave himself a quick look-over before nodding. “Let’s catch up!”

The rest of the heli-dropped ogres had been killed already when they restarted their march. But the ogres weren’t the last of the monsters teleported in. Because Gul and Firebrand acted as impervious walls, none of the dirty fucks could even think about advancing without getting steamed alive like a dumpling.

Instead the mages gradually teleported their comrades closer, within the Baptists' formation and outside it.

[Skill Activation: Heartbreak]

[Skill Activation: Red Banner]

A clear shot pierced through the armor of a lanky werewolf-like beast, stunning it for just enough time for Leona to swoop in and slash across its stomach, spilling intestines and other gore.

Three of them were surrounded by sharp leaves, giving them a death by a thousand cuts. Another ate a psionic blast and had its arms blown off.

Althea teamed with Victor, using her chain to restrain a big guy while he swiftly thrusted his [Gungnir] through its chest, killing it.

More died like this, through instinctual teamwork or brute force alike. Clearly the mages’ plan wasn’t working. The Baptists cleaved through their ranks, exterminating the teleported batches as they came. Although some Baptists would fall behind due to circumstances like Alexander and the falling ogres, these vulnerable moments could not be capitalized on and became just that: moments.

The Baptists regained ground faster than they lose it.

Soon the street was paved with the fiends, and the Baptists were closer to the demesne now. It was in view, just a short sprint away.

Alexander spotted the newest arrival a few meters behind the high-rankers, who were battering the main force with water and fire. An armored knight of unnatural proportions, creating a spiritual steed in which it rode upon.

Alexander kicked off the ground.

[Skill Activation: 40% Mana Impact Sprint]

His trail was marked by explosive bounds, taking him forward like a leopard spotting prey. He leapt between the scattered, abandoned cars with newfound agility via intense [Mana Impact Steps], his heart thumping with adrenaline and confidence, and he took his final [Step]—this time directly off a building’s brick façade with [100% Mana Density].

As fast as the rider appeared, as fast as Alexander reached it with his [Sword of Conquerors] drawn.

The rider’s head came off and it was dead, unable to trot no more than a few paces. The mount faded.

Awful howls echoed then ceased. Alexander turned to the front, heaving and pale in the skin from mana exhaustion, and saw the charred corpses of the rest of the horde.

With the windows already taken care of, the surprises were officially dealt with.

Except for the demesne itself. Seeing that the reinforcements were killed so easily, the jittery eyes spewed red bolts in the same chaotic manner as seen in Scorcher.

But unlike then, Alexander refused to cower hearing the same dissonant whistles again. None of the Baptists did. Problem, Gul, and Firebrand produced their own magic and activated their skills to block any attacks that Fragment Carn produced.

It even tried for a combined, mass artillery strike. Just like the ones that had killed so many back then. But Firebrand took it upon himself to spew a blazing blue fireball into the air, matching it for size. Before the artillery could even curve down, it was struck and exploded in a gallery of shooting stars of whimsical blues and fading reds.

The demesne attacked and attacked but nothing could get through the high-rankers, and finally they were face-to-face with the horrid place.

“This is for Archknell,” Firebrand said, raising a hand. Blue flames flooded from his palm and engulfed the entire structure, drowning the eyes in mighty heat.

They began popping like flies to an electric fly-swatter.

“We need Carn alive,” Gul reminded him as the fire raged.

Firebrand’s face twitched, working through several expressions of complex emotions: anger, grief, self-loathing. The heat eased, and gradually he turned down the knob until nobody could hear popping anymore.

“I’m just killin’ the eyes,” he told her, watching the fire.

“Weapons ready,” Alexander ordered everyone and raised his [Rosario].

The Baptists prepared themselves.

Firebrand killed the fire. The structure within the demesne was coal-black, unmoving, the cosmically-intricate machine dead. And the eyes were gone as if they had never been there. Beneath their feet the earth unnaturally shifted, moved as though they stood on mud yet somehow still solid—must be the Void's effects.

Alexander thought about the possibility of leading a team inside but he wouldn’t know heads or tails from the abstract layout. So for two minutes everyone waited. Waited for something to come out. The demesne hadn’t completely fallen so Carn was still inside. He had to be. But each second was pain.

Alexander was about to contact Damien until a crunch alerted him and the rest of the team.

What came from beneath the geometric shapes were…

The entire team gasped and gawked in horror.

Carn approached the Dawn Baptists and revealed that he had been dead. He'd been dead for a long time.