Zamikar, Higher Demon of Torture and Pain's Story

What happened after they separated was unclear. A demonic Magical Pulse blasted from the roof, and went on for several blocks. A magic field was emmitted that would have resulted in the creation of several magical artifacts. People would sense this. Some might gain magic, some might become corrupted by it, and others...others would feed on it.

Zamikar stood there in Demon Form, looking at Liam. Liam looked right back at him. "Now...lets finish this" Zamikar noted, summoning his Demonic Hellblade and slashing at Liam. Liam put his fists togehter and then frew them apart in a straight line, summoning a Wiccan Staff. The Staff did not even crack as the blade was thrusted down into it. It was warded heavily, enchanted heavily, and made of Holywood. Zamikar attempted to muster his magic at Liam, but for the first time ever it failed.

"What the fuck? I cant use my magic on you..." Zamikar noted, looking at Liam. He used a demonic sense, and he found the problem. "It appears part of our souls reside in each other. We are no longer linked...but our magic cant be used against each other. We can still physically attack each other, but we cant use our magic against each other".

Liam smiled. "That means you cant use your powers to torture me. Hell, we might be able to take lethal blows at each other, but we cant on purposefuly focus on making the other suffer. Which means, you can kill me, but you cant torture me. And you wont kill me, because if you do, you risk my soul...and the Apocalyptic Key...going to hell, and my death reactivating the Apocalypse. This must be making you sick right now, now being able to do what you want".

"At least I don't have to do what you want...and I am in one of the most populated cities in the universe. I can find some fun...just follow the screams. However, I will let your friend Renee lived. She separated us, and I respect her enough to not murder her" Zamikar noted, turning into his spirit form and traveling to an apartment nearby, with a family of four. He pinned each member of the family to the walls, and one by one tortured them while leaving the rest to watch. Zamikar did more then physical torture though, he did mental torture too. By the time he was done, the son and daughter of the family were the only survivors, and were curled up naked in a corner with scars all over their bodies.

Zamikar was only getting started.

Meanwhile, Liam went over to Renee, and used his healing abilities to revive her. "Please don't be dead please don't be dead..." His hopes had an unintended side affect, as a hell hound appeared in front of him. He grabbed the closest thing to him, a metal pipe, and got ready to swing. But the Hell Hound just licked her wounds, and sat down whimpering.

It apparently still served Liam;

Zamikar continued to go around the city throughout the night, now that he was released, and tortured, killed, and brought back people that he killed just to torture some more. Zamikar, being a High Demon Lord of Pain and Torture, used his powers to teleport around, avoid detection, and hurt a lot of people.

In retrospect, he was hurting more people then he killed. He considered that successful and enjoyable, smiling as he beheaded a son in front of his parents, the boy only being ten years old, before moving onto his seven year old sister, stabbing a Conversion Dagger into her chest, while using his own magic to rapidly speed up the Demonizing Procedure. She would become a demon right in front of their eyes.

His next target was some rich entitled family living in one of the penthouses in Wing City's Business District. The Rich always felt so entitled...and were the easiest to break, he noticed. But some stuck it out. He enjoyed those. Slowly making them break, burning everything they had worked towards. He enjoyed watching them suffer as he did that.

Zamikar arrived in the area, immediately heading towards one of the rich families. A husband, a Wife, a second wife, the wife's sister, and two sons, one from each wife. Zamikar trapped the husband and the sons via hellchains, suspending them upside down as he made them watch him slowly but surely hurt, torture, and defile each and every one of the females. For one, he made her drown in liquid gold. For the second wife, he made her blood come out of every possible exit, and made some more. And for the sister, he dismembered her, but kept her alive. He then gave the husband a choice.

He had to choose which son would suffer, and which one would be spared. He chose the one from his first wife, who was then cursed with bad nightmares, a missing leg, and a missing tounge. After that, he left, releasing the father. His work was done there, they would cry and mourn for quite awhile before anyone tried to track him. But he was moving around via magic, and he had charms that made him immune to scrying as well as Demonic powers that made him very hard to track and resistant to magic itself.

He found himself a good perch, where no one would look for him, and watched the sunrise. For some reason, he felt like he apreciated it. Very unlike him. He then contacted his minnions. "I am back. Make sure the others know, I expect reports on all of my territory within the day".

A Terracast broadcast...



"Alloway Terra. This is Miranda Gray reporting live from the Wing City business district in Aslund. Late last night the Wing City Police Department responded to a emergency call. Emergency responders and medical personnel removed one child, age seven from his home and accompanied by his father and a detective was rushed to St. Andrew's Hospital and is currently in serious condition.

To maintain the integrity of this ongoing investigation the WCPD was very tight lipped about the information that was released. Three adult females were slain. We will follow up this story as more information is released. This is Miranda Gray signing off. Alloway Terra."

Renée twitched a little at the release of the energy, her closed eyes glowing bright red for a moment before they returned to their normal crimson-non-glowing hue. Luckily, she wasn’t grasping anything or it would have charged and exploded and that probably would have been very bad. Liam’s voice could barely be heard through the pounding in her head and she could only groan when she felt him beginning to use his abilities on her. Just before she slid open her eyes, she felt something licking her and hoped that it wasn’t him,

“…what the hell just happened… Liam? Where’s Zamikar… and…” She blinked in mid-sentence looking at the Hell Hound, that she deduced had been licking her previously. “What’s that doing here?” she added with a extremely quiet tone. No use startling the creature.

Sitting up, she held her head in her hands for a few minutes until the roof stopped twirling around. Once she was sure she could look properly without having the urge to throw up, Renée shifted her gaze towards Liam, grateful that he didn’t seem injured or worse for the wear. Hopefully the split worked because she wasn’t sure she had it in her to do it again. Too bad her brain was all squishy at the moment or she might have been able to sense whether the bastard was still inside the kid or not.

After the explosion caused by Zamikar...

Space wretched, shivered, and split as the floor quaked. From thin air and nothing stepped forth a woman clad in dark leather and cloth, cloaked in black with spiraling white in the form of patterned chains. Her hood hung low over her crystal blue eyes and her cowl concealed the features of her lips and cheeks. Her movements were slow, measured as if in the moment she struggled to smoothly act. The air followed her motions, twisting the tips of the low hanging cloak anchored upon her shoulders.

She raised her head and briefly sniffed the air. Her eyes narrowed and she quickly preceded to the door and exited Gambit's to venture out into the night.

As Zamikar walked into the bank, the guards attempted to stop him. Most were armed with weapons that couldn't harm him, but some were very well equipped. His demonic skin was too thick for bullets to penetrate, but some of the guards were witches, psychics, and one werewolf. However, he was a High Demon Lord, and they were no match for him.

He took out his Hellwhip, and lashed it forward, creating a magical pulse that ensnared all the guards. Each and every guard then levitated in the air and their necks broke, as if they had been hung. A physical rope appeared around each of their necks, and was attached to the ceiling. Zamikar then used his magic to erase all recordings and disable all cameras, even the magically warded ones.

Then it was time for the vault. He telekineticly pulled the bank manager to him, and took his key and cut off his right hand. He used both to enter the vault, immediately going for the two vital safe deposit boxes. Numbers 13, and 666, because Demons had a knack for being cliche sometimes. Or, nearly all the time. He took two things out. An amulet, and a blade. The amulet was a Keystone, to a private Hellportal. And the blade, it was the Destiny Shard. One of thirteen blades forged to kill immortal beings. Seven were forged in Hellfire, three were created from Celestial Angel Magic, two by the most powerful Witch and Wiccan magic combined, and one by a magically gifted human, who was possibly the most gifted of any human magic user. The Destiny Shard was actually one of the angel weapons, stolen by another demon that Zamikar was now taking.

He made his way to exit, having his magic and weapons ready for if anyone tried to stop him.

The door opened and a woman entered into the bank by the same door that Zamikar now tried to exit. She looked exactly as she had when she first appeared in Gambit's. When she appeared in that moment after the magical explosion caused by Zamikar's separation from the boy child. Her physical description: A slender woman, not tall, hooded, mantled, cloaked, and cowled in black patterned with white script and coiled like chains around the fabric. The rest of her body encased in supple black leathers, buckles, and straps. She did not appear to carry any weapon.

When she entered the building she immediately locked eyes with the demon, Zamikar and yet made no move. She did not look to the death and destruction that surrounded him, left in the demon's wake. She studied him in a way that made it perfectly clear that she was not there to withdraw or deposit money. He was the reason she had come. For a moment there was uneasy silence. There was no one left alive in the bank besides the two of them that had not fled. Her blue eyes, really the only thing about her face that could be seen shifted to a soft green and she stepped to the side as if she would allow Zamikar to pass out the exit unmolested.

The sound of explosions and gunfire would not go unnoticed in the city and the sound of a siren would fill the air and screeching brakes would be heard as a single police car stopped outside of the banks entrance. Richard Leon would jump out of the car and the back door would open as well as a police dog jumped out of the car.

Richard reached for his radio quickly. "Dispatch this is Foxtrot-2, Bank Robbery in progress on Sol Avenue, possible supernatural involved requesting immediate response."

"Roger, Foxtrot-2, Proceed with Caution."

Richard was already unholstering his gun. He stayed back for now. "Police Put the weapons down!"

There was a distant roll of thunder as the sky grew dark and the clouds blotting out the sun overhead. The wind had picked up in the wake of the storm rolling in and tree branches bowed and swayed as it gusted through the parking lot of the bank. A waste basket had blown over and bits of rumpled trash blew across the pavement and the scent of rain was on the air. The storm had come on swiftly, seemingly manifesting from the churning clouds that grew darkened and grey, but it was the weight of anticipation on the air that suggested it might be something more than natural in nature.

For the police officer, Richard, it carried a bolstering feeling of strength and certainty, as if the rising storm stirred within him as well. It would bolster his nerve and flush any doubt or fear from his mind, but for the demonic entity the wind carried a different sensation. There was an edge of unease on the air, and a sense that something was about to happen. Perhaps it was the imagination, or perhaps it was a warning. It was difficult to say, but it was the sort of unease that would seep into ones soul and rile their paranoia at what lingered beyond the fringes of their perception.

These feelings weren't exclusive to the WCPD officer and the demon though, and everyone in the neighborhood would be experiencing similar sensations of either emboldenment or unease. Those ill of soul would linger within their houses with their curtains drawn, fearful of what might lay beyond the safety of those meager walls, while those pure of soul were drawn to their windows with a sense of wonderment.

No source could be ascertained as to the cause of these fluctuations in emotions, but a flash of lightning in the distant sky preceded another rumble of thunder as the storm rolled in and a light shower of rain opened up overhead

It was rare for one to be unable to find action in Wing City. Invaders from beyond the stars, crazed bomber from some radical faction, demons and the apocalypse...all were something that occurred at some time or another in the Terran city. It was like it was a magnet for conflict, and Archeron didn't want it any other way. It kept him busy, fit. On top of that, there's nothing he enjoyed more than punching criminals in the face. Maybe this whole thing was just a means of satiating his sadomasochistic tendencies. He wasn't sure, nor did he care enough to find out.

He had just finished beating up some guy who tried to mug an old lady across the street, leaving him in a bloody puddle in the shadows of a nearby alley. He thought about killing him, as was his usual M.O, but he felt leaving him as a heap of broken bones was a more suitable option; he wanted him to suffer. Luckily Archeron finished when he did, because the sudden pang of his 'Mortem Sense' caught his attention. Normally he wouldn't pay attention to it, but he was alerted of several deaths that occurred in the same area. Something was up, and he was going to be the one who got to the bottom of it. Luckily he was close enough to go it on foot, and with his supernatural condition, he'd make it there in no time at all.

The vigilante positioned himself amongst the WCPD officer that was already on the scene. He simply nodded in his direction before drawing his sword. "Demon, return the stolen items to their original compartments and you may go free." Archeron demanded in a stern tone. "If you fail to comply, I won't hesitate to eliminate you." His gaze shifted to the woman standing near Zamikar. Was she in cahoots with him? He didn't know, but she would suffer the same fate if she intervened.

"Silly mortals. You cannot defeat me, or even think to give me orders. You might not understand what I am about to do, but my words will heed information you may want to know..." He said, raising the Keystone. "This is a taste of the apocalypse". At this point, a Hellportal opened and a gigantic creature, skin seemingly made of lava so hot projectile and even energy weapons would be in affective. The massive creature was bigger then any standard trailer, at least triple the size of an RV.

A Hellspawn is resistant to magic as well. It would kill anything on sight that did not radiate Demonic energy, and if anything attacked it it would kill it Reguardless. It wasn't unkillable, but any and all forms of weapons would range from ineffective to only partially effective. Water would turn to steam on it, and it possessed great strength and speed. He looked at the others. "This is a Hellspawn, one of the Legion of Hellspawn that will rise should the apocalypse be activated. There is a being here, who's name is Liam Mitchell. Unless you kill him and destroy his soul, the apocalypse will happen. I do not wish this, and neither do you. I am sure you will kill this thing eventually. But if you allow this boy to live and his soul to remain in tact, the universe will know these Legions of Hellspawn. And not even your...particularly effective police department cannot stop this Legion. This is not a threat, but a warning. My last warning. Don't head it, and you will all die".

The Hellspawn broke through the bank's wall, wrecking everything in sight on Sol Avenue. Of course, Zamikar made sure when he opened the portal to magically install a self destruct. The thing would die in an hour or so, in case the police were not as effective as he thought. And, truth be told, he was also using the Hellspawn as a distraction. The Destiny Shard had other uses, and was far more important to his plan.

He snapped his fingers, and Hellchains raised the employees and managers by their ankles to hang upside down. "Now, I will be leaving. If you don't get them down in the next five minutes, the chains will light them on fire. Goodby". Zamikar raised a magical shield around himself. He gave everyone two separate things to worry about, the Hellspawn and the innocents, while he escaped. The Bank was proving difficult to teleport through, so he walked towards the door past everyone unless they tried to stop him, always having the Hellportal Keystone, as well as his own Hellportal, to use in case of emergencies. So, in truth, he had two distractions, and three escapes. And one distraction was a sole, but devastating member, of an apocalyptic army. And if they went after Liam Mitchell as well, that was an added bonus. He killed four birds with two stones.

Around the block, as the Hellspawn was being raised, two urban APCs came to a halt, the rear compartment doors opening. Piling out of each was a five man team, the logo of the WPCD scrawled on the left shoulder of their urban camouflage uniforms. These were no standard officers of the force, however. This was the elite force of the police department, the Special Response Unit, or the SRU.

One of the team leaders, a surprising youthful man by the name of Revan Caieth, glanced at his men. Unlike his armored comrades, he was lightly attired, a scabbarded blade at his hip, a wicked and plainly dangerous looking assault rifle in his hands. His teams SRU teams 3 and 6, were covered in their armor, two bearing similar rifles to his own, two with snub SMGs. Another pair held bulky launchers slung over their shoulders, while the teams' sniper, rifle slung over his back, unloaded a unit from the APC, tapping the medic to aid him setting it up on the sidewalk. Though they all knew the drill, Revan ran through the breakdown one last time, the mic on his throat carrying his words to the response teams.

The team scout, automatic pistols held at the ready, was trotting down the street, breaking into the briefing at the sight of the Hellspawn. Helmets turning to Revan, one of the SRU's nastiest demonslayers, they saw his cruel smile.

"Time to go to work, boys and girls. Move out."

Working with extreme precision, one launcher and the sniper made their way down the block, turning into the fleeing pedestrians and moving further down the street, while the medic re-entered the rear APC, activating the set up temporal plane stabilizer, generating a three square mile radius of spatial lockdown, preventing means of teleportation as an escape route. Next the man kicked on the team's demonic locators, scanners that triangulated demonic energies through the police network of upgraded traffic cameras. Each man had a unit with a readout to the display.

Revan and the his riflemen, on the other hand, tapped out the scout, handing over an sniper rifle and signaling to a nearby business, signalling to get up some floors. The other launcher wielding member halted at the corner, setting up for launch on Caieth's signal.

Striding down the center of the street towards the behemoth, Revan raised his rifle, the other members of the vanguard team fanning out and doing the same. His CQC members slung satchels from their shoulders and began spinning them in loops.

"First stage team, fire on my mark. Second stage, prepare satchel charges, throw at my mark. Join fire and trigger when it enters the killzone. Launcher 1, hit it when charges det."

Taking a moment to sight in, he continued. Second launcher and sniper, launch at twenty feet. Scout, you're on overwatch. Find the prick and mark him."

Without further warning, the fireteams rifles started with a single report from Revan, the controlled bursts coming in rapid succession of alternating volleys. The rounds spitting downrange at the Hellspawn were an SRU special of the standard force round, titanium shell, mass reactive blessed silver explosive shells, delivered on target at extreme velocity with devastating precision. Sighted for head, center mass, and limbs, they were decidedly heat resistant to allow penetration, then subsequent detonation of the holy silver, blessed by the resident priest.

One of the classic tropes of villainy is the villain's monologue, the point where he launches into a little speech detailing what he's done and why, often with an explanation of the inevitability of his success or his goals. Alana had stepped to the side and she stood there, unblinking and watching Zamikar as he went about his performance. She stood by as the demon raised the keystone and a portal spat forth a titanic hell beast born of lava. She stood by as Zamikar called the beast by name and spoke on about Liam Mitchell. She stood by as the demon yammered on about killing the boy to prevent an apocalypse. She listened as Zamikar took jabs at the WCPD and spoke his warning that sounded very much like a threat despite his insistence that it was not so.

The sulfurous smell wafted as the beast broke free of the bank, shattering stone and steel. Alana did not flinch or move, though a pillar came close to an attempt at smashing her into a bloody pancake as the hell beast exited out the bank. She felt the all too familiar tingle of a dimensional stabilization field. The people in the bank were strung up and the demon talked again. He was talking about the people in the bank but all the people in the bank were dead. There was no one left alive in the bank besides the two of them that had not fled. It stood to reason then that only Alana and Zamikar were those two that were alive and still in the bank. She had plenty of time to remove his head and carve out his skull to make later use of it for a fruit dish if that was something she was inclined and capable of doing. She didn't though. She waited, listened, and watched.

Alana never took her eyes from the demon so she was still observing him as he stepped forward in the direction of the door and raised a shield to defend himself. WCPD engaged the hell beast outside. Gunfire and explosions may have made what Alana said next hard to hear even for the demon. "You can not leave", she said as her eyes took on a cold steel color and she stepped in front of the door to bar the demon's escape. "Surrender to the authorities", she said in a low voice without a shred of emotion.

She blocked his way and yet held no weapon. She didn't even take a form of defensive stance or raise her arms in the off chance that he tried to attack her. She was either very confident or very stupid.

It had not taken Sa'ida long to respond to the outcry from Sol Avenue. Swooping down from the skies was a woman that was all but an angel, her wings beating behind her in a flurry of bronze and blue feathers. Like Revan, she was not dressed in a common uniform. Tight black pants and a silken shirt that was so long it stylishly flourished behind her in a wave was just to her taste. The WCPD SRU symbol was patched onto her shoulder. In one hand, she carried a silver glaive with a long white blade, which was held streamlined to her body as she flew.

It did not go unnoticed, the feel in the air that almost frightened her. She tilted her eyes up toward the rolling storm, warily making her way to the bank.

Soaring over the WCPD officers, her voice boomed, "I'll handle the demon!" and she dove to the door. With a sweep of her hand she knocked the doors in.

She stopped right in front of Zamikar, rose above Alana, and raised her glaive. "Freeze. Now." And with the words, the ground shook, and around them would rise the blades of light made from the Warden's Quake, summoned by Sa'ida's immense willforce. They did not destroy the ground they sprouted from, but would deal a great amount of harm to Zamikar and Alana should they tough them.

The light rain broke loose into a torrential downpour that added an eerie glow as archaic runes began to light up across the pavement and the floor of the bank. For those familiar with the ancient draconic dialect, they were runes of power. But even for those versed in the language they would find it difficult to read the runes as they swirled somewhere just beyond the minds perception. One might catch sight of the runes from the corners of their eyes, only to find them gone again when one tried to look for them.

The parking lot took on an eerie red glow as those engaging the demons, and the demons themselves were seamlessly separated from their surroundings.

For those under the influence of the runes of binding, they would notice little change save for the faint red hue, swirling runes and an abrupt break in the rain, but for those faces peering out of windows to witness what was transpiring, the entirety of the bank, its parking lot and surrounding areas were engulfed in a swirling red miasma.

Zamikar, the Hellspawn, the WCPD officers, the portal... they were all gone.

A few disoriented bystanders stumbled their way out of the miasma, confused at the abrupt disappearance of those engaging the demons, but it would seem for the time being anyways, the city was safe from collateral damage as the officers engaged the rampaging Hellspawn and Zamikar. There were flashing of light and the distant sounds of gunfire from within the miasma, but one could wander it and find no sign of the source.

Likewise, those within the bizarre anomaly could travel endlessly and not seem to make any progress in distancing themselves from the battle.

Archeron paid little attention to the demon's arrogant babble. He wished he could get a dollar everytime some prick came threatening the planet with the apocalypse. Semantic satiation; the word had lost its meaning and intensity, at least to Archeron. The Terrans had survived innumerous hardships before and if Zamikar's words were honest, this time would be no different. One thing he loved about his fellow denizens was their quick response time. In addition to himself and the officer already on the scene, six more individuals had arrived to combat the demonic threat. The most notable of the bunch were the five man squad of WCPD officers. He knew exactly who they were, for more than once had he encountered the SRU since his career's inception. He made no effort to intercept the heap of living magma for he was more than confident that the new arrivals could deal with it.

Archeron quickly took a stance alongside Alana and Sa'ida. With his left hand used to aim the deadly point of his weapon toward Zamikar, he used his right to summon the otherworldly fire he was so fond of using. The whiteish blue flames swirled continuously around his plated hand, generating what sounded like whispers as they moved. If one were to touch them they would see that the flames weren't hot at all. This was because they were designed to burn the soul/spirit instead of the flesh. It was one of his favorite ways to fuck up a demon's day.

Zamikar would love to tear them to pieces, but he would rather avoid to tangle with the police, and he couldn't risk them dying and completely missing the message. "No, only the guards are dead. There is the Bank Manager, and the non armed employees. And besides, why bother with me? I am leaving, which means I have no intentions to stay and harm people as much as I want to. I have work to do, and you have an apocalypse to prevent. It's mutually beneficial for you to fight that Hellspawn, perhaps learn a weakness, though that is unlikely".

As their forces deployed measures to contain him, he mused. He summoned The Hellbringer, one of seven blades he had forged in Hell capable of killing immortals, meaning he had at least two blades forged to kill immortals. He swung the Destiny Shard at these countermeasures, shattering the cage of light. He looked back at the Angels. "That Hellspawn is simply a taste of what will come if you do not destroy Liam's soul. And do not assume to know my intentions. You think all demons want the apocalypse? I like the universe just as it is. Besides..." He said, feeling the energy and whispers of the Destiny Shard. "...I am not the biggest threat to your planet. The Destiny Shard won't say who, but other forces are at work".

Zamikar exited the bank, still maintaining a powerful Magical Barrier. He saw the field they used to try and contain the situation, and it made him happy. It meant there was no way the creature could destroy everything, which meant he would have more people to torture later, and they would not get completely decimated by the Hellspawn. If anyone tried to fire or attack Zamikar, he would use his magic to ensnare them in a nightmare that would fill their heads with fear, doubt, and pain, and would cause them to experience nightmares for years to come, unless somehow they had enough willpower to resist it. He did find it concerning the police were trying to use bullets to take it down. Bullets, even if they were blessed, would melt before it could get past the thick lava skin.

He turned back towards the people who faced him head on. He looked his way into the Angel's mind. "Sa'ida. I am not sure you have heard, but at least some circles of the Angels have put an order out to kill Liam as well to end it. If you have, then you know I speak truth. If you haven't, then you know you can find out if I am truthful or not. Either way, you would be able to know if I was honest, so then why would I lie to you?"

Zamikar chuckled. He was doing this for his own reasons as well, but he realized a rather ironic truth. "If you think about it, everything I have done here might help save trillions of lives". He then plunged both of his blades into the miasma to tear it apart. A combined force of Angel Magic from the Destiny Shard and Demon magic from Hellbringer. Plus both blades are powerful enough to kill immortals. And, he channelled the ancestral magic he acquired from the Soul Split. Three different reasons that alone would probably tear through the miasma, but together would (almost) certainly would. Once it was open he could step out. And if it didn't for some reason, he had an alternate escape plan.

Unfortunately for Zamikar those who had been affected by the strange anomaly, there was no miasma. The miasma was visible only to those not inside the area that had been affected. To Zamikar - and those with him - nothing but the city lay before him, but any attempts to depart into the city would cause a perplexing affect in which he could walk and walk only to turn and realize he was still where he started. No visual sign of the prison was detectable, nothing physical for him to strike out against with his weapons. The only change for those within the area had been the break in the rain, and occasional strange red hue of the runes in ones peripheral vision. Zamikar would discover that there seemed to be no magical barrier preventing him from leaving, and yet he couldn't leave all the same.

Likewise the emboldening affect from earlier remained strong, and those within its influence remained immune to fear tactics. What should have been crippling nightmares would do little more than fill them with a sense of unease before the rising storm from earlier filled their hearts and souls once more. Something was protecting those who stood against Zamikar.

Their will to fight had been kindled into a fervent flame, and their strength of will molded into an iron shield. Today not a one among them would waver or break from attempts against their morale, or their spirit.

Alongside the WCPD SRU, another figure had come onto the scene. Hovering on jets, Aiedail surveyed the impact of the specialised weaponry on the hellish beast of lava. The android supersoldier considered her options for proceeding, assessing the nature of the creature. It was hot, extremely so, and so engaging it in melee combat with her blessed weapons would likely be difficult. She could prevent the weapons from melting, but it would consume a significant amount of energy. A better option was to engage at a distance, but most conventional weaponry would have little effect on its amorphous form, and energy weaponry would prove unreliable against a being clearly unaffected by heat.

She was far from out of options, though.

Propelling herself into the air, she ascended to a short distance above the being. Her arms shifted, morphing quickly into a pair of oversized tractor beams that she locked onto the creature's head. After a moment immense amount of force was applied to it, enough to tear apart a building in short order, pulling upwards in order to rend its head and quite possibly its entire upper torso from its body.

Richard watched as the hell spawn arrived and more support arrived on the scene as well. To him it appeared that the others had the Demon Lord contained so instead he moved to the trunk of his car grabbed an automatic rifle and a few magazines of Blessed ammo.

When he turned around he looked. Mio was gone, but it wasn't just Mio he soon realized all of the people were. "What the hell?!?" He exclaimed glancing around. He pondered investigating this but what was the point, finding what had happened to the people would have to be second priority. That was a job for a mage not a police officer.

Taking the gun Richard rand down the street to link up with SRU and Aiedail. He ran close to the buildings and past the hell spawn with one things in sight. Raising his rifle he fired hitting two fire hydrants( with Standard Ammo) parallel from each other bursting them open. Water would gush into the street blocking the path of the hell spawn. He knew the thing was hot hopefully this would give them some cover and maybe the thing wouldn't be a fan of water. Richard wasn't sure but at this point he was ready to try anything.

A smug grin smeared itself on Sa'ida's face. Sa'ida's mind was not so easily invaded. A woman with as much power as herself would be difficult to read.

The blade to Sa'ida's glaive glowed white, as did her eyes. "You two might want to leave. It's going to get nasty," she said to the woman with the fiery hair, and the armed man who also faced the demon. She knew, very well, that there was a good chance they weren't going to heed her words.

"Perhaps you got my name from whatever glimpse into my mind you tried to make, but you quite obviously didn't get any accurate information past that." She whipped the glaive sideways, and a beam of light flew straight for Zamikar, and she swooped down to follow it with the weapon raised to slash at the demon.

"I am no angel."

Alana vanishes as if she were smoke and a stiff wind scattered her. This was despite the various fields and other things that would have prevented such things like teleportation from happening.

Seeing its prey, it shot a stream of lava as hot as, well, hell from its mouth at the officers. The lava would melt through titanium as if it was butter. It coughed up a lava ball at the APC as well, before charging straight at them.

The water did not affect the Hellspawn at all, turning to steam as it hit it. However, as it began to get TKed I to the air, it started getting air sick. It started puking lava everywhere at first, large chunks and waves of lava going towards the snipers, the launchers, and then it shot a stream of lava 100KM per minute at the android. It was about 60 meters wide, and the lava would melt through anything in seconds, as it was as hot as hell itself. It continued this stream towards it for several seconds before directing a second stream at are an and the officers by him.

It did not like flying.

Sa'ida's words weren't even taken into consideration. He wasn't one to retreat in the face of opposition. As the winged woman initiated her attack the hooded vigilante did the same, waving his blade horizontally to unleash a crescent shaped wave of bluish-white fire in the demon's direction. If his attack hit its mark, Zamikar would find that the flames did no damage to his physical body, but to his very soul. The body could be strengthened, reinforced to fend off attacks, but not the soul; It was a facet of existence completely vulnerable to physical assault, and he loved it.