Quote from CrankIf you post a story with a title in Comic Sans, I will burn Sanctuary to the ground
Go out you nerds! (the story!)
Spoiler (Click to Show)
"Sanctuary. Heh." thought Zackeroar as he lay down his helmet beside him. His long black hair swayed in the wind like it was a flag being held up by a standard bearer. Vengeance had always been the driving force of his life. He wanted vengeance for his village's decimation. He wanted vengeance for his master. Now, he wanted vengeance for the burning of his hut. It was just a small hut, but Wrath Incarnate didn't take these things lightly.
"Was it Hera? She's always been pissed off at me." Zackeroar tried to think critically. "Or was it the RHG itself? Do they know that I wish for their downfall?"
"Demigod." said a feminine voice.
"Not this again!" replied the demigod, covering his ears and saying "lalala" over and over again as if he was a kid.
"Stop being foolish, bastard! Snap out of it! I've got something for you to do."
"Fuck you, Hera." Zackeroar managed to say as he stopped being hysterical.
"You swore on the River Styx, demigod. No matter how much I hate you heroes and half bloods, I still need you to do quests for me. Do you want me to make you experience pain as agonizing as the pain once brought by me?"
The son of Zeus shook his head as tears rolled down his cheeks. This was the goddess that caused the death of his mother and the destruction of his village. It was just too much to bear for young Zackeroar as he spent his days weeping and crying over the utter annihilation of what was once his home. So, when the goddess of marriage (Hera) came to him in a dream and vowed to end his pain in exchange for his service, the demigod accepted.
"Good. Now, Athena has told me you're part of this gladiatorial organization. Well, turns out, they're messing with nature by modifying the genes of human children and turning them into cold blooded warriors by unnatural means, further bolstering their roster of gladiators. A horrible crime. The Fates have told me that this organization will have a major part in the 'War of the Gods' and it pains me to have children molded into soldiers and know that I might fight with or against them some day."
The 'War of the Gods' was supposedly some world-shattering event that would happen in the future where the gods and goddesses of Olympus would be divided and wage war upon each other and the world. Zackeroar secretly hoped it wouldn't happen in his lifetime, although he had already passed the time of his death. Hera said his death wouldn't come because he "still had a role to play".
"So, what do you want me to do, o great Hera?" the son of Zeus asked mockingly.
"Very funny, son of Zeus. There's this training facility, or should I say factory, of the RHG nearby. Start by destroying it. If asked why you did it, tell them you did it because you wanted to prove you were worthy of being in Sanctuary. Will you do it?"
"You don't need to tell me to keep our little secret."
"I asked you, demigod. Will you do it?"
"Yes, Hera. I will." Zackeroar rolled his eyes and grabbed his equipments before heading to the facility. He didn't know how he knew the location of the place, but he figured Hera supplied it to him using some kind of Olympian magic.
A chain-linked fence surrounded a large area, walling in a single huge square building with white paint. It was pretty much like a large warehouse from the outside. A huge logo with the letters 'RHG' inside something that looked like an arena was slapped onto the front facade right above the double metal doors. Guards were posted to either side of said door, armed with guns that were as black as their uniforms. More guards were patrolling around the premises as well as snipers surveying the area from towers on the four corners of the wall.
"This is a restricted area, sir. Turn back now or you will be dealt with accordingly." Said the guard that was sitting at a small booth which guarded the entrance. It wasn't too special, just something like a more advanced version of what you would see in toll stations at highways. Instead of a single bar blocking your way, you had a wall of thick lasers which seemed out of place in the middle of the chain-linked fence.
Zackeroar let out a hearty laughed before continuing to walk forwards, shield and spear in hand. A few guards had stopped their patrols and now went over to the laser gate when it suddenly opened. The two snipers closest to the entrance of the entire compound aimed their sights at the armored menace.
"Shoot to kill!" ordered the man in the booth as the sound of the cocking of guns filled the air. A second later and the sound of continuous gunfire was all that you could hear for a few kilometers. Luckily, the place was secluded and in the middle of a forest where few people pass through or else the authorities would've come and messed this whole thing up.
The Spartan laughed once again as he hid behind his shield, still charging forwards. A group of four soldiers clad in black kevlar, helmet, and pants stood closely together on the flank of the main group composing of six soldiers. Zackeroar tackled them with shield covering his head as bullets barely penetrated his bronze chestplate. His legs were the only body parts that weren't covered in armor except his greaves. He was wounded badly, bullets penetrated through skin and blood oozed out of circular wounds.
The group of four crashed into the ground with the heavy armored menace on top of them. The remaining soldiers shook in fear, but continued holding down their triggers. Their shots either embedded into the ground or missed the Spartan who was now starting to get up.
The sniper at the right tower aimed and fired. His target winced as the bullet penetrated through his right shin, blood oozing out of the circular wound. The sniper smirked as he reloaded his gun for another shot.
The demigod was pissed. "Where is that coward!" he shouted and glared at the soldiers who were quivering in place. The Spartan looked around, trying to find the source of the gunshot. Annoyed, he grabbed his spear and shield before walking over to the main group of six soldiers.
"Who dared to shoot the son of Zeus? Tell me or I will kill you all!" he shouted as the heavens seemed to mimic his emotions.
Clouds began to roll overhead as the demigod was deciding what in Tartarus he wanted to do with these bastards. Another gunshot interrupted his train of thought. This time, though, Zackeroar managed to dodge the bullet with a sidestep. "Your death, mortal." he said, grasping his spear.
Dropping his shield and aiming his spear, the demigod threw it with all of the might he could muster. It spun in the air like a bullet from a sniper rifle as the clouds grew thicker and darker overhead. All the sniper could do was scream as the spear penetrated through his right eye with deadly precision. Rain began to fall from the heavens above as if the gods above were crying about what was about to happen.
Zackeroar smiled as thunder roared loudly before red lightning struck the son of Zeus. The soldiers watched in awe, unable to move from fear and the mud being sticky around their feet. The demigod's long hair slowly turned from black as night to gray as ash. His eyes became like red rubies which replaced his blue sapphire-like irises.
Grabbing his greatsword and shield, he charged into battle. With a single swing, three more soldiers were added to the Ferryman's passengers. The remaining three started to run away, but Zackeroar had other plans. He chased after them like a lion after his prey, which was easy considering the mud was slowing his prey down. Powerful slices across the neck ended the lives of the three who tried to escape the demigod's fury.
Breaking through the chain-linked fence was hard, but the strength of the son of Zeus was enough. The metal for the fence wasn't soft, no. The demigod thought it was something like obsidian and iron. He'd have to ask Hephaestus about that when he returns to Olympus. About eighteen guards quickly assembled in front of the metal entrance, trying to stop the armored man's advanced as they pointed their guns at him.
A moment later and the sound of gunshots filled the air once more. The demigod raised his shield and charged forward with his mithril greatsword in hand. One by one he slew these mortals, his sharp mithril blade piercing through kevlar and skin. Tens of bullets embedded themselves in his arms and legs, the only armorless parts of his body, but Wrath Incarnate was too pissed off to care. Finishing off the last few soldiers, he let out a sigh before entering the facility.
The things he saw were monstrous. There were children in vats with tubes running through their noses and mouths, floating in some green liquid. There were operating rooms with doctors and patients. There were training rooms, armories, bedrooms. Whether you held a gun or you didn't, Zackeroar did not care. He would slice your head off before you had a chance to explain as long as you were from the RHG.
The demigod pitied this children and decided to help them escape this cruel facility. With everyone he could save outside, he grunted and headed back to his headquarters. "I'll wash the blood off there." he decided.
His hair turned back to black although it was still filled with spots of blood here and there. His legs looked unnatural, filled with dark crimson and small circular holes. The Spartan didn't seem to be limping despite this. His arms were the same as his legs although they looked much better. There were less wounds on his arms making it look less severe if compared to his legs, but it was bad all the same. His armor was bloodstained from head to toe. He looked like a murderer who had just gone on a killing spree.
"Where in Gaea is everybody?" he asked when he realized no one had come to greet him.
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Earlier
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“Alright, you guys go out and have fun or something while we clean this shit up.” Sencarn said with a faked smile on his face, quickly slamming the door behind him as the members of his clans were quickly pushed out of their sanctuary. Barely a second passed for the members to turn their heads and stare annoyed at Winston, who replied with those looks incredibly confused.
“Why exactly am I the first to be the suspect?” He asked with a shrug, a small drop of sweat trickling down his face while trying to force an innocent smile, as his allies turned their bodies towards him and stared at him intensely. Light crossed his arms and leaned his head forward in judgement, his flaming eyes showing themselves through the visors of his helmet, while Dante simply sighed and scratched the back of his head.
Ergos meanwhile simply sat on the ground, being the usual shy and reserved character as he always was. He didn’t know any of these people yet, so he couldn’t say he was comfortable being with them. Light spoke in his usual deep but hollow voice
“I heard you stumbling in the night. I’m dead, not deaf.” He came closer and closer to Winston, unsheathing his arms as if to grab the conjurer. Before Winston could reply, he did just that. Light violently grabbed him by the shoulders, and started to shake him back and forth while lifting him from the ground at the same time. Winston’s head was thrown back and forth in sync with the shaking, as he slowly started getting dizzy. Probably would have made Winston vomit if Dante didn’t step in.
“Alright big guy, how about we relax a bit and enjoy our day while it lasts? I mean, we might not be able to have this all the time, considering we’re fighting against the wRHG system and all that shazzle.” He said with a soft voice, placing his hand on his undead friend’s shoulder. Suddenly his hand started to vibrate quickly, in turn shaking Light’s entire body so his armor clanged like a box of pots, his head banging against the walls of his helm. Sadly, Winston was part of the vibration too, so the feeling of nausea wasn’t going away anytime soon.
Luckily for him, Light drops him. Not that it made it easy for Winston, as he crashed on the ground, laying down as the world around him stopped its spinning. Light in turn was moving his upper body a bit dozily as he fell back onto the ground, cracking the cement a bit upon landing. Dante facepalmed.
“Our day has already started and we already got two nearly passed out people, usually this happens the next morning. You two boys really are something special aren’t you?” Ergos chuckled a bit as Dante spoke, but as Dante looked down at him, he quickly hid his smile. Dante gave a slight smirk to the younger boy and patted him on the back. “Hey don’t worry kid, you’ll get to know us soon enough, no need to be shy.”
Ergos nodded while trying his best to hide the happy smile on his face. With another deep sigh, Dante pats Winston on the belly, with Winston reacting slowly getting up from his sickness. Light quickly grabbed his helmet with both his hands, in an attempt to stop the violent shaking of his head. He succeeds with a strength roll of 15. Slowly, the undead pushes himself from the ground, his bones creaking a bit under the pressure of pushing himself up. Ergos joined in by also standing up from his seated position.
They all stood in silence for a few painfully long seconds, unknowing of what to do, until Winston broke the silence. “So does anyone have any plans where we can go?”
Suddenly, Light’s eyes lighted up with what can only be assumed to be some form of joy. Your guess is as good as mine. Quickly reaching into his armor, he pulled out a small colorful poster. Fully revealing it to the others, as they leaned into to take a look, it showed itself to be an advertisement. Specifically an advertisement for a market that was about to open in half an hour. Everyone besides Light simply shrugged with a neutral look and collectively said “Why not.”
So with no real objection or discussion, Light went straight ahead to the direction of the market. The others following close by. Dante said aloud as they started walking “But we’re diffidently going to a bar today!”
Their trip was relatively uninteresting and silent, at least on Light’s part. He had no real interest in talking to the others; there was nothing they could talk about with him. The others however were having a decent time talking to each other, talking about their lives to each other and just showing general interest. Excluding Ergos, they seemed to be relatively comfortable. The group was so deep in their talking that they didn’t even notice that Light had stopped moving. They crashed right into him, as if he was a light pole that appeared out of nowhere.
They were about to shout at him for not warning them that he stopped, as if it was his fault, but they stopped to face what Light had stopped to look at. They all turned their heads, and saw the market. The market was a pure mixture of senses. Bright neon lights advertising stores, the smell of fresh fruits and peppers, the sound of crowds and shouting salesmen filled the streets of the market. Dante, Winston, and even Ergos was amazed at what they saw and immediately went in, not noticing that Light was still standing there.
As his allies left him to go to their own business, Light stood silently staring out at the street. Slowly, he lifted off his helmet with his right arm, placing it under the same arm as he