Hell, 163,000 light-years from Earth
Since the sun is never visible from Hell and the sky is always on fire, there is no day and there is no night. But even Demons have to rest sometimes, and Laceration has finally been able to catch some sleep. With her parents and her little sister exiled from the planet, she feels their absence; the house was silent even with them around, but she can’t feel their souls anymore.
She’s awakened by the ground shaking. Earthquakes are common in Hell, but this is different: she can feel that it’s not just the house, it’s the planet itself that’s shaking.
The house collapses over her head, forcing her to smash through the rubble by creating a dozen axes spinning around her body.
As she shakes off what’s left of her body, she looks around and she can’t believe her eyes. It wasn’t an earthquake at all: something big just hit the planet, a column so big that she can see it from miles away. It’s a spear, much larger than even the skyscrapers she’s seen on Earth.
Not only it has pierced the perennial cloak of fire that rages above Hell’s sky, but the shockwave has razed half of the continent, leaving very few buildings still intact.
Thousands of Demons rush towards the spear: no just men and women, but the children and the elderly as well.
Without speaking a word, everyone knows what has just happened: Hell has been invaded.
If Torn or his wife Agony were here, they would have to argue with Laceration to convince her to stay behind. She almost misses that kind of argument as she prepares herself for battle, but she hears another voice speak to her soul through the Blood.
<Daughter of Torn. You are summoned to Hell’s throne immediately.>
<Lady Of All Demons. Are you joining the fight?> Laceration asks, distracted for a moment by another shockwave. A second spear just hit the planet, and even it’s beyond the horizon the impact is enough to make her lose her balance.
<There will be a slaughter instead of a battle if we’re unable to summon the Slayer of Gods.> is the answer she receives.
Cape Town, South Africa
By sheer coincidence, it’s night on this part of Earth as well. There’s no one in the living room when it’s illuminated by the light of a teleportation device, and Noriko Null is grateful for that.
A cursory glance at the place reveals dozens of little indications that someone has been living here for several months. She walks towards the bedroom, but she stops before opening the door: her right hand is shaking a little.
“This is ridiculous, I wasn’t this nervous storming into the Zenith base. Get it together already!” she thinks to encourage herself, finally opening the door.
<Daren?> she calls, trying to fake being more sure of herself than she really is.
The South African athlete wakes up, and the first thing he sees is the faint light of Noriko’s silver eyes piercing through the darkness.
<Jesus, you scared me half to death!> he admits, turning on the lights. Noriko can see that the hand she grew back for him is no longer blue, having almost completely turned brown like the original.
<Sorry.> she says. There’s an uncomfortably long pause.
<Nothing else to say? It’s been over six months, Noriko.> Daren Bekker points out.
<I know. I can explain!>
<If it wasn’t for your father, I wouldn’t even know if you were still alive. How did he know you were okay!?>
<He didn’t. He always thinks I’m okay, mostly ‘cause I rarely let him know what I’m really doing.>
<I can relate. You could’ve told me something.>
<Come on, that’s unfair: I was kidnapped and put in a time dilation field! It’s not like I chose to lose six months of my life, Daren!>
<It’s not the first time you disappear. What do you expect me to do? Just wait until you get back and say nothing about it? Is that what you want out of a relationship?>
<I don’t know what I want.> she admits.
<You said you didn’t want anything serious. I was okay with it, but you didn’t tell me you’d continuously disappear to fight alien wars and people who throw around buildings!>
<I thought you liked a little danger.>
<A little!? Look, Noriko, I like you, but your kind of life… it’s just too much for me, I’m sorry. I’m not staying around to be your booty call between one crisis and the other.>
<That’s not all we had… wasn’t it?>
<We never do anything together besides f##king. We have nothing in common, Noriko.>
<We both lost a limb once.> she shrugs.
<What?>
<This isn’t the original.> she says, patting her left arm.
<You… you never told me that.> Daren reminds her.
<I didn’t… I didn’t grow it back myself. I’m not sure I deserved to get it back and I… I thought that once I grew back your hand, bonding together through the recovery could help me get over it.> she finally admits, both to him and to herself.
The look of sheer disappointment on Daren’s face hurts her more than any possible torture at the hands of Ulysses.
<Get out. I don’t want to see you ever again.> he tells her in no uncertain terms.
<Yeah. That’s probably a good idea.> she says dejectedly, pressing a button on her watch.
Null Tower, New York City
Noriko reappears in her room; it’s been months since she’s been here, even from her point of view. She can’t bear the thought of going back to the room in Midgard City that she shared with Daren.
As she wipes away the tears, she notes that her right hand is shaking again.
<Mistress Null. Your neurological activity is spiking, do you require assistance?> O.D.I.N. asks.
<Shut up, I’m fine.> she tells the Tower’s artificial intelligence, holding the shaking hand with her left one and activating the Soul Relay.
<Max, do you have a minute to talk?> she telepathically asks through the device.
<Oh, Nori, hi. Listen, quick question, does this thing have the same privacy settings of the Neural Transmitter?>
<Of course. I can set it up for you; why don’t you come over and…>
<Is this end-of-the-world stuff or can it wait?>
<I, uhm, I suppose it can wait.>
<Great. Sorry to ditch you but Jane and I have to make up for a lot of time, you know?>
<Oh! I didn’t think of… did I interrupt anything?>
<Not yet, but in a few minutes it would’ve been really awkward. You know I was really worried about leaving Jane behind, but I think we’re both more in love than ever. Funny how things turn out sometimes, right?>
<Hilarious. I’m happy for the both of you, you deserve some happiness.> she replies, switching off communications.
<O.D.I.N. Status of the Soul Relay for the rest of the Vanguard?> she asks.
<All in privacy mode, mistress. Should I summon one of the emergency Kari Zel duplicates?>
<No, it’s fine. No need to bother anyone. What the f#ck is wrong with this thing!?> she asks herself: her right hand is still shaking, despite all her efforts to stop it.
<On second thought, I’d better see Dr. Kalama.>
Hell, 163,000 light-years from Earth
Laceration has fought her way through what appears to be a nearly endless supply of soldiers.
They are probably human, although it’s difficult to be certain thanks to the heavy armor that covers them completely. Strangely enough most of them are armed with melee weapons and firearms that use physical bullets, instead of the laser or plasma weapons ubiquitous in the Olympian Galaxy.
They swarm out of large gates that appear out of nowhere, wormholes large enough to let a dozen of them to set foot on Hell at the same time.
Their armor is completely ineffective against Demons, who are killing tens of thousands of invaders each and every second, all across Hell. This doesn’t seem to deter the humans in the slightest, even when the piles of bodies are so crowded that the wormholes have to reposition themselves.
Laceration has to walk over a considerable stretch of land completely filled with dead humans before she can reach the location of Hell’s throne. Or rather, its former location: one of the gigantic spears has utterly obliterated the building.
She can see Vice next to the spear, surrounded by over thirty elite guards; she is watching a holographic representation of Hell itself, made out of Blood energy. From it, Laceration can see that Hell has been hit by at least two dozen spears.
<Lady Of All Demons.> Laceration greets her.
<I was hoping you would be able to reach me, Laceration. I have been monitoring your soul with great concern; I would’ve sent someone to escort you, child, but I could spare no one.> the elderly stateswoman says.
<I am ready to serve and fight for Hell. How did these arrive? We would’ve sensed the creation of a portal.> Laceration asks, touching the spear.
<There was no portal. These weapons were thrown at Hell.>
<That’s not possible, Lady Vice… there’s no power in the Middle Galaxy that could move such immense weapons, let alone throw them!>
<They did not originate from our galaxy, child. This is an attack from the Olympians, a vile and coward attack: only a god would have this kind of power and this lack of dignity.>
<Then why don’t these gods fight us directly? Even Anubis had the decency to fight us on his own, instead of dooming mortals to a senseless slaughter!>
<They were only the entertainment. Their master is about to make his move.> Vice says, pointing at the object in the sky pushing away the fire clouds.
It’s a ship of a weird shape, with its front made to resemble a Corinthian helmet. Thousands of Blood weapons are thrown against it from every direction, but they all collide harmlessly with its energy shield.
<Stay with me, Laceration. If this fails, you are our best chance to contact Null.> Vice says, raising her hand and pointing something at the ship: she’s holding one of the Keys of Heaven.
A halo of light appears around the enemy ship, but as soon as Vice tries to teleport it away the light flickers and disappears.
<It’s no use. He can resist it and he won’t allow us to flee.>
<Flee? Why would we flee!? We are Demons! Look at how many enemies we have killed!> Laceration protests, gesturing towards the sea of dead soldiers around them.
<There is no time to explain. Open your soul to me, I will use it to open a portal to your father.> Vice says, placing her hands over Laceration’s shoulders as the girl looks at the ship.
Something drops out of it. It looks like a man, but as he hits the ground she understand he’s much more than that. All the elite guards throw Blood weapons at him as he slowly stands up; over eight feet tall, he towers even the largest Demons.
His red cape is in tatters, barely covering the golden cuirass where the symbol ♂ shines red on his chest. The armguards and greaves are also golden, covered in spikes.
The helmet resembles the ship, but its top is constantly spewing red and black flames. The helmet casts a shadow that obscures most of his face, but the bright blue eyes are shining over it.
<They have a woman as a leader. I should have known.> he says, his voice booming over the screams of rage of the Demons rushing towards him.
The first one dies before the god takes the first step, his head crushed between his fingers. The second and third smash their weapons on his armor, but he grabs both of them and slams them together so hard that they fuse into a disgusting mash of flesh.
<No wonder you are so weak.> the god comments as ten Demon elite warriors unleash everything they have, utterly ignoring them as he draws his black sword.
<Get down!> Vice tells Laceration, pushing the girl underneath the pile of enemy corpses; she’s barely fast enough to avoid the wind unleashed by the swing of the blade.
Calling it wind is reductive. The sudden difference in pressure makes every Demon not protecting himself with the Blood explode; others are thrown out over the horizon, and in one particularly unlucky case the wind pushes a Demon against the giant sphere with enough force to vaporize him.
Laceration survives because Vice threw her into a pentagram portal at the very last second, emerging on the other side of the sea of dead soldiers.
<A pity. I was lead to believe this world would provide a challenge.> the god sighs, calmly walking towards the spear. Then a red light shines above his head.
<DIVINE RETRIBUTION!> Vice shouts from behind him. A massive sword made of Blood energy, rivaling the size of the giant spear, appears right above the god’s head.
It falls towards him, but he effortlessly catches its blade between his fingers and holds it in place, no matter how much Vice struggles to keep moving it.
<Well, you are slightly less unworthy than I imagined.>
<You are not welcomed here, Ares. Leave at once or…>
<Or what?> the god asks, pushing against the sword; it takes all of Vice’s concentration to preserve the weapon without shattering it.
He then lifts the spear like it was a normal weapon instead of skyscraper-sized, using it swat away the Blood sword. This proves too much for Vice, now unable to stop the weapon from disappearing.
He tosses the spear away, unconcerned by the earthquake created when it hits the ground as he grabs Vice by her grey hair.
<Too bad you’re an old hag. I have another sword you would have loved to play with, eheh.> he says, sleazily searching through her clothes with his hand until he finds what he’s looking for: the Key of Heaven, that he holds proudly in front of her.
<And to think that my sister and that Egyptian son of a snake had so much trouble to get their hands on this little toy. I wonder what it does?>
<You won’t get away with this, Ares. This is a violation of our treaty with…>
<Treaty? Here’s what I think about treaties!> Ares replies, ripping both arms off Vice’s body, telekinetically holding her in mid-air.
<I respect nothing but strength. And there isn’t a single mortal that can…uh?> Ares stops, when an energy whip grabs the key from his hand.
<Leave the Lady of All Demons alone. You’re fighting me.> Laceration threatens him.
Ares looks at her intensely, his eyes examining her from head to toe, and then he burst into laugh.
<Hahah! What is it with this planet’s women? Although I rather fancy this one; I wonder how many thrusts she can survive.>
<You can’t… kill her…> Vice struggles to say; she’s on the brink of death, but she’s doing everything she can to stay conscious.
<I’m pretty sure I can. I’ve already killed how many of your kind? I’ve lost count after fifty millions.>
<Only she can… bring you… to the Slayer…>
<Oh really now. Well, this is getting interesting.>
<I won’t back down from a fight, Lady Vice! I’m going to fight him like my father would!>
<I like this one. Tell you what, red, I’ll make you a deal.> Ares says, planting his sword into the ground <Lift the sword. If you can, I’ll leave your planet and stop blocking your people’s pathetic attempts to escape through your portals.>
<What’s the catch?> Laceration asks, raising an eyebrow. She’s been raised to never trust gods.
<If you fail to lift it, even by an electron’s orbit, I will destroy this planet and enslave every single surviving Demon.>
Laceration hesitates, but she feels Vice’s soul is rapidly deteriorating. She grabs the sword’s hilt and pulls it with all of her strength, channeling the Blood into her muscles.
<Careful. That’s made of Dark Neutral Matter. It weights more than your entire planet.> Ares reveals, moving forward and lifting the sword with extreme ease.
<It’s only thanks to my power that it didn’t destroy your world the moment it touched the ground.> he adds, dangling the sword by holding it with just two fingers.
<So you know how to summon the Slayer of Gods, uh? The killer of that weakling of my brother and of my idiot sons, among others.>
<She will kill you. And I’ll make sure to be there when she does.> Laceration swears.
<I’m not stopping you. But you should really be more careful about what you agree to. You did fail to lift my sword, and I did give my word.> Ares says, dropping the sword.
Laceration disappears into a pentagram just in time: he wasn’t exaggerating about the weight of the sword, as the mass of an entire planet hits Hell and falls straight into the ground towards the core.
Null Tower, New York City
<Well?> Noriko asks, getting off the medical bed as Dr. Catherine Kalama examines the holographic projection of her brain scan.
<It’s not looking good. Your tumor is progressing faster than we expected. I told you that continuously using your golden eyes would worsen your condition, Noriko. And skipping medication for six months hasn’t helped either.>
<I know, I know. It’s not like I go out of my way to…> she starts to reply, but she stops when a halo of light delivers a Demon girl right next to her.
Laceration throws herself at her, hugging her tightly. Noriko would complain about it, but she’s more concerned by a sight she never thought she’d witness: the Demon is crying.
<Laceration? What’s wrong?>
<Ares.> is all the girl manages to say.
Hell, 163,000 light-years from Earth
Ares is satisfied. He’s sitting on a pile of Demon corpses, watching the exposed core of the planet… or rather, of what was the planet.
The core is a mixture of magma and pure Blood energy, but it’s not surrounded by a single solid body. Instead, the shattered pieces of Hell are now orbiting the core.
<Lord Ares. We have completed the transfer.> one of the soldiers tells him, kneeling before him.
<About time. How many slaves?>
<73,852,074 Lord Ares. We estimate this is 25% of the original population.>
<Any other survivors?>
<Not in this sector, Lord Ares. It is possible some Demons escaped through portals before you blocked them. Should we attempt to capture them?>
<No. It’ll be fun to see some of them fail to get revenge. You have separated the female slaves from the others, right?>
<Yes Lord Ares, as per standard procedure.>
<Good. I think I’ll examine how many are fit for my harem. We’re done here.> Ares concludes, standing up and turning his back towards the wall behind him: the last standing structure he has allowed to survive. Vice’s torso has been nailed against her; it’s a horrific sight, since she no longer has her arms and that the nails holding her are piercing through her eyes, heart and groin.
The god’s eyes emit rays of energy, writing a message on the wall in Ancient Olympian, right above Vice’s desecrated body.
It reads “YOUR FATE, SLAYER”.
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