Shaw Industries Underground Hangar – Salem
The elevator groaned as it descended, gears screaming from years of neglect.
Elsa rechecked her pistol, the slide clicking softly in the red light bleeding through the floor grates. Beside her, Felicia adjusted her gloves, the edges of her claws glinting faintly.
"Still think this was a good idea?" Felicia asked, smirking.
Elsa's eyes stayed forward. "No. But I've run out of good ideas."
The car jolted to a stop. The doors opened to a vast hangar bathed in crimson light.
They froze.
Below them stretched a cathedral-sized chamber lined with pylons and generator coils — all feeding into a single massive shape at its center: a Sentinel, lying horizontally on an industrial platform. Cables as thick as tree trunks connected it to the ceiling, Hellfire energy flowing through them like liquid lightning. The beam from the sky above cut straight down into the reactor core housed in its chest, illuminating the hangar in molten gold and red.
Felicia's voice dropped to a whisper. "Holy hell…"
"Pretty close," Elsa replied.
Around the machine, dozens of figures moved like ants — a mix of Shaw Industries scientists in lab coats and Mephisto's cultists draped in black robes, working side by side. Some monitored energy readouts; others painted blood sigils across the reinforced floor.
At the head of it all stood Sebastian Shaw.
He wore a tailored suit beneath a containment harness, veins of red light crawling up his neck. His eyes reflected the Hellfire beam — cold and fascinated.
"Magnificent, isn't it?" Shaw's voice carried over the hum of machinery. "The first true evolution of man and machine. A Sentinel reborn — no longer a servant of fear, but an instrument of power."
A nearby scientist handed him a datapad. Shaw skimmed it, smiling faintly. "Containment at ninety-three percent. Stable enough."
He looked up at the beam, spreading his arms. "Mephisto promised a window, and he delivers. All he asked was access. And in return—" he gestured to the towering frame of the Sentinel, "—I build the key to keep it open."
Elsa crouched behind a catwalk railing, her grip tightening on her pistol. "He's turning the Sentinel into a gate anchor…"
Felicia's eyes scanned the scene, reading patterns only a thief would notice — security drones, blind spots, the rhythm of the cultists' movements.
"Yeah, and if that thing wakes up, we're all toast."
"Not if we kill him first." Elsa slid a round into the chamber, calm and deliberate.
Felicia grinned, claws extending with a metallic snikt. "Thought you'd never say it."
The hum of the Hellfire reactor drowned out their footsteps as they crept along the catwalk, staying low behind the railing. The glow from the beam flickered across their faces as they approached the central platform where Shaw stood.
Felicia pointed toward the main console. "That's the control hub. Kill that, and we cut his power link."
Elsa nodded. "On three."
She counted silently — one, two—
A shout cut through the air. "Intruders! Up there!"
A cultist had looked up mid-prayer, eyes wide.
The siren blared before Elsa could even aim. Red lights strobed across the chamber, and guards rushed toward the base of the catwalk.
Felicia groaned. "Next time, just stay back and let me do all the sneaking. You don't exactly blend in wearing orange."
Elsa shot her a glare. Felicia's sly smile only widened.
They both jumped.
Felicia landed first, rolling to absorb the impact. Elsa dropped beside her, gun already drawn and firing. Bullets cracked through glass and circuitry, sparks flying as the first wave of cultists fell.
Across the room, Shaw turned toward them, amusement flickering in his eyes.
"Of course," he said, voice calm and smooth. "The government sends a monster hunter and a thief to interrupt evolution. How… predictable."
He raised a hand, signaling the guards to surround them.
"I must admit, I expected more subtlety," Shaw said smoothly. "Or perhaps you were counting on luck?"
His gaze slid to Felicia, lips curling with faint amusement. "A silver-haired thief breaking into my facility? I've heard rumors about you. They say you stole something that doesn't belong in this world."
Felicia froze mid-step. "You hear wrong."
Shaw's grin widened. "Oh, I doubt that. Mephisto's little pets have been whispering about a fragment lost to time—something forged from the same blade that sealed Hell itself. And here you are."
Felicia's claws flared to life, crackling with Hellfire. "Then maybe you should stop listening to demons."
Shaw's eyes gleamed with intrigue."Oh, I intend to. Once I have what they're looking for."
Felicia tilted her head, voice sharp and mocking. "You'll have to catch me first."
The nearest guard lunged. She spun, claws blazing — the first swipe tore through armor like paper, the second sent a wave of fire arcing through the air, searing a line across three cultists.
Elsa fired over her shoulder, using Felicia's movement as cover. Her pistols barked in measured rhythm — two shots per target, each one precise. The guards dropped, armor sparking from Bloodgem rounds.
Felicia vaulted over a console, landing beside her. "Nice shot."
"Try not to set me on fire," Elsa replied coolly, ejecting a spent magazine and slamming in a new one.
"You love the heat." Felicia flicked her claws, smirking.
Elsa switched to her grenade launcher, firing a concussive round into a charging group of cultists. The explosion sent bodies and debris scattering into the air. Felicia dashed through the smoke, slicing through the stunned survivors, her claws leaving glowing trails that burned even after contact.
Together, they moved like clockwork — Elsa's heavy arsenal keeping the field clear, Felicia weaving through the chaos, a flash of black and red light.
Shaw stood by the console, unshaken. "You're wasting your time," he said, voice rising over the alarms. "The process is already underway. Even if you kill me, you can't stop it."
Elsa reloaded. "Funny. People usually say that before I shoot them."
Shaw smiled. "Then by all means, prove me wrong."
He stepped down from the platform with unsettling calm. The containment harness on his chest pulsed in sync with the Hellfire beam above, red light crawling along his veins. His eyes burned brighter—inhuman—mirroring the energy feeding from the Sentinel's core.
"You have no idea what you're interfering with," he said, voice deepening, layered with a faint, unnatural echo. "You're standing in the cradle of evolution—where man, machine, and Hell become one."
Felicia smirked, claws burning red. "You talk too much."
She sprinted forward, claws slashing through the air. Shaw caught her wrist, absorbing the Hellfire burst that should've seared flesh. His grin widened as the flames coiled into his arm instead.
"Beautiful," he whispered. "Hellfire itself, converted perfectly. You've brought me exactly what I needed."
Elsa fired from behind — three precise shots center-mass. The bullets sparked against his chest, embedding but doing nothing.
He laughed. "You think bullets can stop progress?"
Elsa frowned, ejecting the mag. "Usually does the trick."
Felicia flipped backward to cover her. "Whatever you're using, it's not working!"
"I noticed," Elsa muttered.
She reached into her belt pouch and drew a different magazine — black, etched with faint red sigils that glowed like coals.
The casings inside pulsed faintly, alive. Bloodflare Rounds.
She hesitated for a breath, thumb brushing one shell. Dante's blood — please don't make me regret this.
Flash Memory — Two Weeks Earlier
Temporary Field Lab – Before Salem
The lab smelled of alcohol and disinfectant. Dante sat on a crate, arm stretched out, jacket tossed aside.
"Remind me again why you want my blood, Red?" he asked as Elsa readied the syringe.
"Your blood can hurt demons," she said, focusing on finding a vein. "If I can isolate what makes it stable, maybe I can develop a round that can hurt both demons and gods."
He chuckled. "You know, most people buy me a pizza before draining me."
She didn't look up. The needle slid in, clean and quick. Elsa capped the vial and finally met his eyes. "Then consider this repayment."
Before he could answer, she leaned in — a faint blush coloring her cheeks — and pressed her lips to his. This kiss wasn't like the first; it lingered, deeper, her tongue brushing against his.
Dante, still seated on the crate, pulled her closer by the waist. The room shrank around them until the hum of the equipment faded.
When they finally parted, a thin strand of saliva glistened between their lips.
Dante smirked, voice low. "You trying to one-up Cat, by any chance?"
Elsa slapped his chest, face flushed crimson. "No. This is repayment, that's all."
He grinned wider. "Sure it is."
Present Day
Elsa snapped back to the chaos. Shaw was raising both hands, gathering Hellfire between his palms.
She slammed the Bloodflare magazine home, chambered a round, and fired.
The bullet screamed through the haze and hit him dead center. Instead of vanishing into his absorption field, it burned through it, detonating in a burst of red-white fire that crackled like living lightning.
Shaw staggered, eyes wide, the Hellfire inside his body buckling under a foreign resonance. "What—what did you—"
Elsa lowered her smoking pistol. "Something new."
Felicia grinned, dashing forward. "Now that's more like it!"
Together they pressed the attack — Elsa laying down precise fire, each shot punching holes through Shaw's defenses, Felicia carving fiery arcs that kept him reeling.
For the first time, Sebastian Shaw looked uncertain.
And furious.