Chapter 4: Landing in Red Grave
The city of Red Grave was in chaos.
Hellfire scorched the skyline, illuminating the twisted architecture of a world under siege. Streets that once carried the hum of everyday life now echoed with screams of terror. Civilians scrambled for shelter, desperate to escape the horrors spilling forth from the gaping portals dotting the cityscape. Grotesque demons, their forms twisted and unnatural, tore through buildings, reveling in the carnage.
Then, the sky split apart.
A crackling surge of red and green energy erupted high above the city, twisting like a gaping wound in reality itself. From its depths, something massive plummeted at breakneck speed. It burned like a meteor, trailing flames as it hurtled toward the surface. The air itself trembled in anticipation, an unnatural stillness taking hold just before impact.
Then—
BOOM!
A deafening explosion ripped through the battlefield. The ground shuddered violently as a massive crater tore open the street, swallowing abandoned cars and sending debris skyward. Shockwaves rolled outward, sending smaller demons flying like ragdolls. A thick cloud of dust and ash billowed into the sky, cloaking the battlefield in an eerie silence.
Perched on the rooftops nearby, three figures stood watching.
Dante cocked an eyebrow, idly twirling Ebony & Ivory in his hands. "Well, that's new."
Nero frowned, gripping the Red Queen tightly. "What the hell was that? Meteor strike?"
Vergil, arms crossed, observed the scene with narrowed eyes. "No… Something—or someone—has arrived."
The dust slowly settled, revealing the figure at the crater's center.
Hunched forward, kneeling in the rubble, the Doom Slayer stood motionless. His Praetor Suit steamed, runes faintly glowing from residual energy. Cracks of red lightning flickered across the ground beneath him. Then, with the slow, deliberate movement of a war machine, he rose.
The moment he stood at his full height, something shifted in the air.
A primal, suffocating dread seeped into the battlefield.
The demons, so mindlessly predatory moments ago, suddenly froze. Their guttural growls turned into hesitant, uneasy noises, their predatory stance faltering. They recognized him. Some twisted, deep-rooted instinct told them exactly what he was.
Death incarnate.
One lesser demon, a snarling, feral creature, let out a shriek and lunged at the Slayer, claws bared.
A meaty gauntlet caught it mid-air.
There was no hesitation. No flourish. No wasted motion.
With a single, brutal squeeze, the Doom Slayer crushed its skull in his grip, blood and brain matter splattering across the pavement. The demon's lifeless body twitched before he tossed it aside like garbage.
Dante let out a low whistle. "Ooooh… okay, I like this guy."
Then, the impossible happened.
The surrounding demons turned and ran.
Hellspawn—cowardly? In the face of battle? That had never happened before.
Nero blinked. "Did… did they just try to run?"
Dante snorted. "Can't blame 'em. Look at that guy—he's built like a damn tank."
From the crater's edge, the Doom Slayer moved.
He stepped forward, Super Shotgun in hand, movements measured yet predatory. The air crackled around him, the sheer weight of his presence radiating something far worse than the demons themselves.
A metallic click-clack rang out as he loaded his weapon.
Dante grinned. Nero looked confused. Vergil, silent as ever, observed with quiet intrigue.
The Slayer raised his weapon. The hunt had begun.