I felt like I perhaps missed some of the lessons at the Org when it came to Domains. Perhaps they didn’t bother teaching us, with the expectation that we would be dead in short order, anyway. Most of my ‘class’ was now dead, to be fair. Not that I had been keeping track, but when half of them died during training, it didn’t paint a bright picture for the others.

Right now, however, I was awash with a light not dissimilar to the glow of the Lowers - just slightly more normal. A blue, cloudless sky overhead, where the bright sun could beat down on this… arena I was now in.

Off to my left, a group of pigmen who had fallen into the Domain tripped and clattered down out of view. From my position I didn’t see where to, nor could I stop and consider it - as the barbarian was keen to cleave me apart with his weapon.

In my peripheral, I could tell we weren’t amongst the pigmen hovels any longer. Even as his axe went back up into the air and caught the sunlight, the area around me felt clear. Rough stone beneath me still, warm and a reddish hue - but otherwise the space behind him was clear for a distance.

I rolled to the side as the axe came down and bit into the stone. Perhaps a bit late to try to talk it out with him. I still had a single question I could ask, however. Assuming I still had hands and a head to do so.

Up to my feet, I leveled the revolver and clicked the trigger.

Nothing.

Well, not nothing, but certainly no projectiles.

“That’s my Domains power,” he grinned, flourishing his weapon around. “All attacks are limited in range. You’ll have to fight me in melee, betrayer.”

“I haven’t seen a Domain before,” I lied to him, my mask of obsidian mist pooling over my face.

I grimaced at being called a betrayer, alongside the insinuation that I’d be limited to his terms. Even with his anger toward me, he was allowing me a couple of seconds to drink in the surroundings. A little bit of bravado before he realized he was way out of his depth. Or I just died, I supposed.

We were on a platform, a square of raised stone cracked and dirtied about twenty-five feet wide. A ditch ran around the outside, mostly filled with spikes - although part of it also had a handful of impaled pigmen in. We were then encircled by a raised area full of stone benches, like a gladiatorial fighting pit, but completely empty. Not that I wanted an audience, of course.

“Why did you come here to kill us?” He growled, holding himself back from launching into another barrage of attacks.

I raised an eyebrow and looked over to the side, where Wight was standing with arms folded, gun on the ground. Maybe he was waiting for me to seal the deal on my own. Unfair, in a way, but then again, I was supposed to be growing from the conflict or something. One-tapping the other two had us getting away with murder, literally, so having to work for the last one was icing on the cake.

//Connection is messy, no visual, but audio is fine.

“The Org sent me,” I lied again. “You know how it is.”

His brow furrowed. “No, I do not?”

“Then maybe I can show you.” I grinned and holstered my revolver. Pearl’s Salvation spun up from my belt and into my hand.

I was no melee combatant and had no demonic skills for fighting in close quarters. That hadn’t stopped me before, and I wasn’t about to back down now. A little warm up for the demon tournament sounded right up my alley.

“Just one on one, no patron interference?” I gestured over to Wight and the man gave a brief grunt of acknowledgment. We could still use skills, of course, and if things got desperate, I could channel power through my hands instead of my revolver - but only if I wanted to return home a few limbs short.

Dark energy pulsed over him and then he moved almost instantly to my position. Sparks rang out from my knife as I deflected the swing and slid across the ground, dangerously close to the pit.

“Wow, you've got me really on edge,” I said with a grin behind my mask.

It did nothing but infuriate him, and a second blur of his attack burst toward me. While my eyes couldn’t follow his movements, I allowed my power to surge through my other senses. He was aiming for my body, of course, so there was only a finite space the axe could arc toward me from. Just a matter of reading the angles and having the dagger up in time.

Clearly, I needed humbling. Just as I had thought out my master plan, the blow knocked me from my feet, pain radiating up my right shoulder as my jacket split through. Rolling into a crouch, I managed to block the downward follow-up with the flat of my short blade.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“It’s my birthday and I have a hot date tonight,” I growled. “Give me a little chance.”

“A chance?” he growled back, more anger in his voice than I had. “You killed the other two without a chance.”

I chuckled. “Weak Hunters are destined to fill the Hells with their ashes.”

“Weak?” He kicked out at me as he withdrew his axe, knocking me back onto the warm stone ground. “You do not know who you are speaking to, insect.”

//John Sienna.

“John Sienna,” I repeated. There was some confusion in his face with me speaking his true name. No doubt he had something more barbarian-adjacent that he went with on the day-to-day and only the Org or people from his past knew what he used to go by. He wavered slightly, perhaps buying in to the fact I may have been sent here for a reason.

Didn’t matter. I rolled back to my feet and launched forward, propelling myself with demonic energy. He turned to hit me with the shaft end of his weapon while defending himself, which worked out pretty well for him. Although I scored a crimson line down his forearm, I was winded and staggered backward.

Just getting too old for this.

His wound closed up and began healing. Regenerative powers were probably a decent choice for a melee Hunter. That just meant I had to try a little harder. Then again, maybe I didn’t need to. Despite his superior strength, he was panting and sweating heavily.

I smiled, although he couldn’t see it. “How long have got left, before the corruption gets to you?”

This did nothing but prompt him back into the assault. Reality draining his ego away till only the dregs of his self-preservation instinct remained. A cruel torture by yours truly, for disabling his ability to return home. Domains might be home advantage, but we were still in Hell, and it didn’t stop the corruption.

In a way, all I had to do was hold out. Not exactly a satisfying ending for either of us, but I wasn’t here to play.

Rodney must be able to prevent me from returning as well, I thought, as blood from my left arm spattered across the heated stone. Fizzled and dried almost instantly. Not that he should want to, but it might be something we’d have to discuss. Then again, I was certain I could find a way out of Hell if it came down to it.

My right arm was numb now, even if my strength and grip were unaffected. The power kept me going, but my physical form was still limited. I made to throw the blade toward him, but a tendril of my power kept it from going further than two inches from my hand. Spun it back as I flickered forward, taking advantage of his flinch to bury the blade into his raised forearm.

For my efforts, I received a strike across the side of my head. Weakened by the off angle, but enough to knock my hat off and gash across my hairline. The warmth of the blood just made me annoyed that my hat was off-duty, ruining my ensemble.

He swung again, but I wasn’t there. Or rather, I wasn’t where he thought I was. Feeling slightly off with my head injury, it took me a few seconds to work out who was in the wrong here. As he paused and tried to blink away his vision, I got my answer.

“What were you three up to down here?” I asked, standing up as straight as my head injury would allow. It stung, but my regeneration was patching it over.

“Fuck you, you monster.” He swung again against an imagined Eric.

I felt quite bad for him now. Whether he was a pawn of the Org just doing his job, or was complicit in an untoward scheme… now he was just a lost soul. Slowly melting away due to the corruption of Hell and up against me, of all people. Really terrible luck.

“Things aren’t going to get any better. You know this.” I stepped toward him slowly. “But for me… I can stay in the Lowers all day long.”

His arms were lagging now, tired and unco-operative. I wondered how long he had been down here, as he didn’t appear to be that low-Level. Maybe the bubble kept them a little fresher, or the Domain drained him quicker. He was gasping at the air.

“I can end your Domain. Could have done at any time.” I held two fingers up for his roving eyes to focus on.

Click.

The Domain washed away, and we were back in the alleyway of the pigman town. Axe toppled back into the wall of the building he had pushed me through. I hadn't actually ended it myself, but I forced him to believe it - once true in his muddied mind, he did it himself. How could Eric Redd be wrong?

Straight through the forehead. Didn’t want him to suffer any longer. Should I have asked him what he was doing down here, using my skill? It was inconsequential to my actions, and would only sour my mood, depending on what his answer was. Wight stepped out of the hole in the wall, shotgun across his shoulder.

[Three dead Hunters.]

“I hope it ends up worth it.” I grimaced, looking at the corpse.

[If not now, the Org would bring them against us when their time is up.]

He was right; I knew this. Assuming we couldn’t pop the Org in one go, they would do anything in their power to stop us. Which meant bringing in any available Hunter. They’d probably need them all, if my ego had any say. Wight put his clawed hand on my arm and then we were gone.

Stepped through into the basement and rolled out my neck. The pressure caused my head wound to ache, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t walk off. I turned to my patron to see that he was wearing my cowboy hat.

[Shouldn’t leave evidence at the scene, the partner.]

“Yeah, alright.” I grinned and took it from him to return it to its rightful place.

Rodney sighed and sat back away from the glow of his screen. “That was pretty intense. I mean, you kill a lot of things, but that felt a lot more like murder.”

It sure did, mostly because it was. “Yeah. Now the Org will get their patrons back in short order, and wonder what went on.”

[Pigmen, such savage demons.]

“Right?” I turned back to Wight to give him a knowing nod. Hated the pigmen.

The Blank groaned and covered his eyes. “Don’t celebrate so soon. I’ve just got a message in from the Org.”

I shuddered involuntarily. Perhaps we had stuck our necks out a little too far this time. They might have other ways of knowing what happened. Maybe this was the end of times already. The fuse lit.

“What did they say?” I worked my jaw, as if I was about to have a quick draw duel against Rodney for the information.

“I don’t want to click it and see.” His illuminated face contorted into a grimace as he did so anyway. “They want you to come in as soon as you’re able.”

“No further context?”

“Nope.”

On my birthday, too. What a treat.