For a brief, fragile moment, the soldiers were convinced they had already died.
That illusion shattered the instant we appeared.
Whatever resignation had taken hold of them vanished, replaced by silent, wary obedience. The five survivors followed us without a word as we advanced toward the central chamber, the heart of the hideout.
The central room where the heretics had operated lay eerily empty.
Even through Nether Vision, I detected nothing out of place beyond what would be considered normal by heretic standards. That absence was unsettling in its own way.
The chamber itself was vast and circular, its ceiling rising high into shadow.
Rows of overturned consoles and shattered terminals lined the walls, their screens cracked, wires torn loose like exposed veins.
Flickering indicator lights blinked weakly on half-dead machines, casting uneven glows across the room.
Rusted surgical arms hung frozen in mid-motion, and fractured glass tubes lay strewn across the floor, their contents long since drained or evaporated.
What remained was unmistakable.
This had once been a laboratory.
"Destroying science like this…" I exhaled slowly, eyes sweeping over the ruined machinery. "Such Mahoonic behavior."
"…That's racist," Tom said flatly, turning to look at me.
"You say it all the time," I replied without missing a beat.
"Not with a hard 'C'," Tom shot back, then broke into a grin. "That's extremely offensive, man."
"I learned it from you," I said dryly. "But that aside, we're getting sidetracked." I waved a hand, cutting the exchange short. "What do you all think?"
T-3 shifted uncomfortably. "I… we don't actually know what a Mahoon is, sir."
"That's not what I meant," I said, sighing.
"I'm not asking about the Mahoon." I gestured toward the room. "What do you think of this place? Where do you think the heretics escaped from?"
"We weren't really trained to investigate, sir," another soldier admitted quietly.
"Figures," I replied dryly, eyes still scanning the room. "Considering two of you managed to get yourselves killed in some of the stupidest ways imaginable." I paused, then gestured toward the floor. "Alright, first lesson."
I pointed at the scattered debris littering the ground.
"Do you think all of this was here from the beginning?" I asked. "The heretics you fought may have lost their original vessels, but they didn't lose their minds. This mess is recent."
Tom crouched beside me and tapped the floor with his knuckle. "Which means the first thing you look for is footprints."
He pointed to a single mark pressed faintly into the dust, a distorted, hoof-like imprint.
"It's faint," Tom continued, "and there's no clear trail leading to or from it. That tells us something important. It didn't come from outside the room." He gestured toward the doors. "Both of those are breach points, you came in through them. So whatever made this mark… it's still in here. Or it was."
Tom rapped his knuckles against the floor.
The sound that answered him wasn't solid ground...
CLANK CLANK
It was hollow.
Tom blinked, then grinned. "A hidden tunnel beneath an underground base… Who the hell designed this?"
He tore into the flooring with brute force, wrenching a section free and hurling it aside. Beneath it lay a wide, cylindrical structure reinforced with rusted metal ribs.
He peered down and snorted. "Oh. Never mind. It's the sewer system." A pause. "That's actually better than I expected."
The stench that wafted up was enough to make even seasoned soldiers recoil. The sewers below were choked with dark, congealed blood and unidentifiable filth, a roiling mess I had no intention of describing in detail.
I took one look and stepped back. "I'm not going in there in this suit." I glanced at the soldiers. "Jump in."
The soldiers stared down into the sewer for a long moment, exchanging uneasy glances before finally taking a collective breath.
SPLASH
One by one, they jumped into the blood-choked channel below, boots sinking into the filth as they cautiously scanned their surroundings.
"It's a good thing they're well adapted to low-light environments," I said, watching them disappear into the darkness. "With the night-vision systems in their gas masks, they should at least survive down there."
"Environmental perks," Tom replied flatly.
I glanced at him. "Is that racist… or environmentalist?"
"We should probably unpack that later," Tom said.
Then, without another word, he simply sank into the ground, his form dissolving as if the floor had swallowed him whole.
"For someone who hasn't eaten in a while, you're spending an awful lot of energy," I sighed as I turned toward the opposite door. "Wally, follow them please."
Wally hopped off my shoulder and slipped into the sewer without hesitation, his small form vanishing into the darkness as I pushed the door open and stepped out of the chamber.
The other side of the basement mirrored the first, unlit, abandoned, and heavy with silence.
But unlike the soldiers, I didn't need light.
I activated my Nether Vision.
Twin green flames ignited over my eyes, bathing the corridor in spectral clarity, and that was when I saw it.
A figure stood calmly before me.
"I didn't expect a heretic capable of silently wiping out two squads, and mimicking their voices, to be headless," I began.
"Today must be full of surprises for you, huh?" the creature interrupted, its voice light… childish.
I narrowed my gaze.
The body was unmistakably humanoid, encased in crimson scale armor that clung tightly to its frame. And yet, there was no head, nothing above the shoulders but a ragged stump. Blood poured endlessly from the severed neck, cascading down the armor in dark rivulets, yet the creature stood as if nothing were wrong.
Still… it spoke.
"Are you a demon?" I mused aloud. "No… ordinary demons can't possess an undead vessel this cleanly."
"Knight," the creature corrected pleasantly. "That's the word you're looking for. And don't worry, I'm not here to fight." A pause. "Not with a vessel this weak, anyway."
Its tone remained cheerful. "I know better than to challenge an Allen without preparation."
I smiled faintly. "Did I become a celebrity after sending one of you back to hell?"
The demon laughed. "One of our infinite number. I doubt even a thousandth of hell knows about that incident." A softer chuckle followed. "But news travels fast."
It took a step closer, blood still spilling without end.
"That's not why I'm here, though," it continued. "You see… wars like this—"
A delighted sigh.
"—they're only fun when both sides are evenly matched. If beings like us start helping the weak, how long do you think this world would last?"
Its voice brimmed with excitement now.
"We could flood this world with our numbers," it admitted. "But that would ruin the game." A dismissive tone crept in. "The ones I killed were compensation, for the heretics you slaughtered when you arrived. That makes us even."
It spread its blood-slicked arms, as if offering a gift.
"So, how about all of us stay out of this," the demon asked happily, offering a hand, "what do you say? Do we have a deal?"
"…HAHAHA!"
The laughter tore out of me, loud and unrestrained, echoing through the dark chamber. I bent forward slightly, clutching my side as I stared at the demon's outstretched hand, still laughing.
"Wait..." I wheezed, straightening just enough to look at it properly. "You were serious?"
"You genuinely thought I'd make a deal with you?" Another burst of laughter escaped me.
"That is, without question, the funniest thing I've heard from a demon in a very long time." I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye.
"What…?" The demon actually took a step back, its posture faltering for the first time. It sounded genuinely confused.
"You're shocked?" I scoffed, laughter fading into sharp mockery. "A demon like you? By the Emperor, you act like a child! Did mimicking those kids rot your brain too?"
I tilted my head, grinning. "Oh, right! You're a demon! You lost that thing ages ago!"
I laughed again, colder this time.
"What in the name of incarnation made you think I'd ever bargain with a demon?" I continued, voice dripping with contempt.
"Even a pig would reject a deal like that!" I spat the word. "Fairness?!"
"You speak of fairness as a demon?" I leaned in slightly. "Who raised you, hypocrites?"
"I… I expected an Allen to accept the offer…" the demon said, its voice faltering, genuinely shaken by my response.
"Well, you picked the wrong one," I snapped back.
I stepped forward, closing the distance between us, and jabbed a finger into the center of its blood-smeared chest.
"Not that I expected any real intelligence from a being so pathetically inferior," I continued coldly. "Especially one that doesn't even have a head."
My eyes burned with green fire as I leaned in.
"So here's a suggestion, go kill yourself for even entertaining that thought," I said with a wide smile. "We don't make deals with demons!"