It Came From Hell

[Doomguy]

I left Dante's Abyss through the personal transporter and found myself exactly where I was before I left for the self inflicted Hell that the blood sport provided. I looked across the tarmac that led up to the round the clock party town of Costa del Sol, the same tacky sign in the exact same spot. It had not changed at all in the few days I was gone, bar the DA sign up tent, its aura of commercialized horseshit, and the rising moon on another chilly tropic night. I could say that I missed the sandy vacation verse, but after the initial few seconds that i absorbed the sights and sense I remembered what I came back to and my shoulders slumped. Back to deal with the Empire and pirate orks and a mission that didn't seem any closer than before.

But I wasn't going to be playing around with shadows and nice words like I was some kind of second rate secret agent. Despite the fact that I was just the first place loser in the competition, the survival island had taught me something. It reminded me that I was someone who solved problems with my hands. No more need to play mind games with officers. Put my plans in motion and have some actual progress to show for all the shit I've had to put up with. Now I could do what I did best: defeat my enemies with overwhelming violence.

I first ducked into a workshop, a garage that saw to the few civilian vehicles, and walked up to the owner so I could fix my armor on their workbench. I thought that I find myself with a terrorized man that I would have to cohere into help, while the other customers would stare on with fresh memories of my rampage, and jeer and laugh to themselves about the freak of the week.

What I got could only be described as star-struct admiration, the mechanic's face lit up like a flood light and he happily ushered me into the back to the tools I needed. And while I didn't quite hear what the customers I cut in line said, a glance back through the door saw more surprise and wonder than disapproval. It seemed that I gained familiarity from my time in DA.

And when I think about it, I would have preferred the disapproval. Better that people look down on me for doing evil, even for the right reason, than to be celebrated for a massacre.

Once I had the tools on hands and I summoned an extra large stack of armor shards, I dug down into the buffle bag I carried and pulled out the ruined helmet and armor. Damaged parts fell away to the floor and new pieces fit into where they were needed. Like a life saving jigsaw puzzle. It became stronger as I layered shards over the massive hole where a spike once pieced my lung, and while there was still some damage seen it was now a battle scar that showed its hard fought battles than a structural weakness. The helmet's split was easily taken out, and the broken visor was popped out and a new one took it's place. The ironic look revived.

I held the helmet so that it was leveled to my head, and stared at the polarized screen that showed myself in it's reflective surface. Faced with their selves, most people would have though of who they were and what they have done. I didn't need that kind of philosophical bullshit anymore. I faced down the horrors of Hell and came out the otherside. I beat some of the Omniverse's toughest and came out better than all bar one. I was the greatest soldier in all of creation.

I let a wide smile grow on my face and saw it mirrored by my helmet, happy to seem me again. Welcome back, Doomguy. I turned it around and let it slide down the side of my heads until it fit snugly and my HUD flashed on.

Complete once more.

My armor came next, the day glow green stood out as always. The weapons took some time as I fit them back into the place I liked them and the their ammo. The newly acquired dagger was the last thing I put on, something that I hadn't much though off since I arrived.

There was an uncontested beauty in the piece, something nice to look at and made to probably be part of some decadent noble's collection. It certainly didn't look like a real weapon, as it's almost translucent material made it almost look like glass. And I could swear that it was hollow, as each step seemed to shift something inside of it. I could hear faint rattling, but a forced shake seemed to procure nothing. If there was something magical to it, I was left with nothing to go on. I shrugged and placed it under my belt, and thought of it as something I could use in a pinch.

I thanked the manager, who seemed happy to just take the scrap I left behind (and was probably sold on Omni Creg's List), and I set off towards a familiar street. With a click of a button a map that of the entire town of Costa del Sol zoomed onto my view screen, information that I had painstakingly acquired. I marked the security cameras and watched at a pattern finally showed itself, and pointed to a single spot. Only a block away from where I had met three other prime.

It was about time that I payed Eagleeye a visit. Time to take fate into my hands.