The burning skies above them twisted with dark, swirling clouds, crackling with crimson lightning. The land was scorched, jagged rock, and rivers of molten lava carved through the terrain like veins of a living nightmare. Liam, Zatanna, and John stood on the edge of a vast, ruined city built from the bones of the damned, their destination looming in the distance—the obsidian fortress of the First of the Fallen.
Liam's boots crunched against the charred ground as he kept pace with the others, his mind still processing what they were about to do.
"Chantinelle… the demon who betrayed her own kin to save John," Liam thought to himself. "He must be sorrowful about her."
Sparda's voice hummed in his head. "Why do you even care? She's just a weapon to you."
Liam frowned. "Is there anyone you ever cared about?"
Sparda chuckled, but there was an edge to it. "I'm just a sword, kid. But the old me? He cared about his family. About humanity. Much like Chantinelle—he betrayed the demon world to save them. But that's a story for another day."
Liam shook off the thought and broke the silence. "This demon, Chantinelle… she was a friend of yours, John?"
John's usual smug demeanor cracked, his face darkening. "Yeah, mate. Sort of. And I couldn't save her." He lit a cigarette, taking a drag. "She was beyond her former self. The poor girl suffered a lot."
Zatanna placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "John, you've always done the impossible to help the people you care for."
Liam nodded. "Yeah, man. It's not your fault."
But John just kept walking, the words falling on deaf ears.
Suddenly, the ground beneath them rumbled. A shriek tore through the air.
"We've got company!" Liam shouted.
From the crumbling ruins ahead, a swarm of demons poured out. Twisted, half-rotten creatures with elongated limbs and burning eyes, moving like a flood of nightmares.
John flicked his cigarette away. "Right then. No turning back now."
Liam grinned, pulling out his pistols. "Time to see what these bad boys can really do."
The demons lunged. Liam squeezed the triggers, and twin bursts of demonic energy erupted, tearing through the horde. The first row of creatures exploded into mist, their essence feeding the weapons.
Zatanna whispered a spell, and a storm of violet chains shot forward, binding several demons before shattering them into dust.
John pulled a flask from his coat, took a sip, and then spat fire straight from his mouth, torching a wave of charging monsters.
Liam moved like a ghost, dodging claws and fangs, his newfound speed allowing him to weave between attacks. A massive demon with molten armor swung at him—Liam ducked, spun, and fired point-blank into its chest, sending it flying into the lava.
Sparda's voice rang in his mind. "Good. You're adapting."
"Less talking, more shooting!" Liam snapped, blasting another demon's head clean off.
He jumped, flipping over an attacking demon, and unloaded both pistols mid-air, his bullets tearing through a dozen enemies before he landed. A group of demons tried to surround him, but he holstered the guns and drew Sparda, slicing through them in a single, elegant motion. Their bodies crumbled into dust before they even hit the ground.
John whistled. "Bloody hell… when did you get this good?"
Zatanna stared, wide-eyed. "That was… insane."
Liam smirked. "That's what happens when you kill demons for breakfast."
John shook his head. "I knew you were getting stronger, but this? You're making me feel useless, mate."
Zatanna grinned, flicking a bit of demon dust off Liam's shoulder. "Alright, show-off, let's not waste all your energy before we get there."
The battle was chaos, but they pushed forward, cutting through the horde with relentless force. The air smelled of brimstone and blood. Every step forward felt like wading through a river of death, but they refused to stop.
A demon leapt at Zatanna from the side, its jagged claws slashing toward her.
"Watch your back!" Liam shouted, blasting the creature mid-air before it could reach her.
She turned to him, smiling. "Thanks!"
Liam smirked. "No problem—"
Before he could finish, a massive demon lunged at him from behind, claws raised to strike.
"Liam, duck!" Zatanna shouted.
He barely had time to react before she unleashed a blast of arcane energy, vaporizing the demon in a flash of blue light. Liam blinked, turning to look at her.
She smirked. "Now we're even."
Liam chuckled. "Fair enough."
Finally, the last demon fell, and the ruined city fell eerily silent.
John wiped the sweat from his brow. "Quite the welcoming party."
Liam cracked his neck. "They didn't last long enough."
Zatanna pointed ahead. "Look."
They had reached the castle. A fortress of black stone, towering into the dark sky, its spires twisted like jagged teeth. The gates were lined with tortured souls, their wails echoing through the wind.
Liam clenched his fists. "Alright then. Let's get this over with."
John sighed, pulling out the Hell's card again. "No backing out now."
And with that, they stepped forward into the jaws of Hell itself.
The Devil's Hand
John took a slow drag from his cigarette as they stood before the massive, obsidian doors of the castle. The air was thick with the scent of sulfur and decay.
"Alright, don't freak out, but…" John muttered, flicking ash from his cigarette. "This castle belongs to a proper bastard."
Liam raised an eyebrow. "Define 'proper bastard.'"
John sighed. "The First of the Fallen."
Silence.
"ARE YOU BLOODY SERIOUS?!" Liam and Zatanna shouted in unison.
John shrugged. "What? Figured you'd rather not spend the whole trip shitting yourselves. But yeah, we should move quick, 'cause if he catches us, we're well and truly buggered."
Liam rubbed his temples. "And you tell us this now?"
Zatanna folded her arms. "Unbelievable."
John pushed the doors open, revealing the eerie interior of the castle—twisting corridors, walls lined with torches that burned with green fire, and shadows that seemed to breathe.
"Let's keep it quiet, yeah?" John whispered.
As they moved through the dark halls, demonic sentries patrolled in the distance. Liam reached for his guns, but John stopped him with a firm hand on his wrist.
"Oi, you trigger-happy tosser, no shooting. Your little boomsticks will bring the whole bloody castle down on us."
Zatanna smirked. "John and I will handle them. You just…" she tapped Liam's chest playfully, "…stand there and look pretty."
Liam grinned. "Zatanna, I've already fallen for you—keep this up and you'll kill me."
Zatanna chuckled. "That's the plan."
John rolled his eyes. "Christ, get a room, you two."
Zatanna whispered an incantation, and a group of guards fell into an enchanted sleep. John flicked a rune at another, making it collapse in pain. They moved undetected through the castle, finally reaching the dungeon where Chantinelle was held.
The sight of her made John's face darken.
She was nothing like the woman he once knew. Her body had deteriorated, her demonic form twisted beyond recognition. What was left of her was driven only by instinct. Her soulless eyes locked onto them, and she lunged at the bars, snarling.
John took a long drag from his cigarette. "Well, ain't this just the cherry on my shit sundae?" He exhaled smoke, his face unreadable. "Do it, mate."
Liam pulled out Sparda and stepped forward. He took no pleasure in this—whatever was left of her deserved peace. With a slow, deliberate motion, he drove the blade through her heart.
She gasped, her red eyes flickering for just a moment. Her lips parted, her voice barely a whisper.
"John…"
John looked away, jaw tight, a single tear rolling down his cheek. He wiped it away before lighting another cigarette.
Her body dissolved into raw demonic energy, condensing into a strange, metallic weapon. Liam picked it up, and as he examined it, the blade transformed into a whip, slicing through a nearby stone wall with ease.
"Cooooool." Liam grinned.
Sparda scoffed. "Right, but this fits a sadistic bitch, not your masochistic ass."
Liam smirked. "Hate to be the jinx here, but don't you think that was a little too easy?"
The moment the words left his mouth, a blinding red beam of energy shot through the room—straight through John's stomach.
John staggered, blood dripping from his mouth.
Sparda chuckled. "What were you saying just now?"
Zatanna screamed. "JOHN!" She rushed to catch him as he collapsed.
John groaned, blood dripping from his lips as he forced a smirk. "Ah, bollocks. Should've known things were going too bloody smooth."
Liam's eyes widened as the shadows in the room grew darker, twisting into a monstrous form. A deep, cruel voice echoed through the chamber.
"Oh, John… your luck has finally run out."
A towering demon stepped forward, his presence suffocating, his eyes burning with pure malice. The First of the Fallen had arrived.