[center][h1][color=darkgreen][b]The Doom Slayer[/b][/color][/h1][/center]

[center][color=darkgreen]Location - [i]Some place that isn't hell[/i]
Mood - [i]...[/i]
Status - [i]...[/i][/color]

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I shrugged when the blonde man started to say something, but interrupted himself and clapped with some enthusiasm. He claimed he would show me how the ‘best’ does it. Then the man pressed the side of his shades where music started playing and he began to shake to the rhythm of the beat. It was OK in how he danced, even pulling off a split towards the end. The man finished off with a salute. I raised my hands, with seven fingers raised to indicate that I gave his dance moves a seven out of ten. It was certainly better than most, but I have seen much in my fight against Hell and that included some pretty sick dance moves.

But whilst I was ranking the Shade Dude’s dance moves, Vega spoke with the dark-skinned man named Sinclair.

[i]“Doomguy is not his chosen, but was instead nicknamed this by the Armored Response Coalition and resistance forces during an invasion of Earth by a species of intelligent beings most civilizations would refer to as demons. In fact, I am unaware of Doomguy’s actual name and thus all of his names are more titles. Doomguy is just one of several.”[/i]

I cracked a grin upon hearing the name Doomguy. It was a less intimidating name and one I preferred amongst the names given to me. Doom Slayer, badass as it was, was given by the Demons. Doom Marine was a title that made little sense. I was no longer a marine and adding the word doom made it sound like I was destined for a terrible fate. So Doomguy became my impromptu name when I had to interact with others.

But before anyone could respond, a woman entered through some entrance on the ground floor. I returned her disappointed gaze that washed over the entire group with a glare. However, she gave no indication she was unnerved by it and instead pressed a button on a remote.

“Mister Luthor will see you now.”

The door slid open and I rounded my shoulders. I ignored the reactions of the others, instead stomping out of the cage with the intent on meeting this Luthor to demand my release. Every second spent here meant the Demons capitalized on my disappearance. Each minute meant a life was lost for no reason other than the demons’ simple desire to kill. And an entire hour meant an entire world may have been consumed and sent careening into the depths of Hell, nothing more than another conquest. It would be forgotten, its people assimilated, and any hope of recovery forever lost.

Time could not be wasted. The only issue was the damned alterations made to my brain that prevented me from using my usual methods. If I had to hear Luthor out first then so be it.

The group and I entered a fancy office via an elevator. I glanced about the room to see it luxuriously furnished with baubles and trinkets. Their value was worthless to me, but if Luthor was willing to display them so prominently then perhaps it held some value to him. Nonetheless, I kept my hands balled up, fingers digging into the gloves of my armor to vent my frustration. As much as I wanted to wreck his stuff, it would only earn me the same treatment as Motor-mouth suffered.

So instead, I glared at the man sitting across the room. His bald head shone when the sun’s rays reflected off the bare skin. He maintained a neutral, though serious, expression upon seeing us all. His posture was relaxed, no doubt because he thought himself safe, and interlocked his fingers together.

“Greetings. I am Lex Luthor. Please, make yourselves comfortable. We have a lot to go over.” The now named Luthor spoke in a calm tone that made my stomach twist itself into a knot. It was the exact same tone used by the petty Lords of Hell whenever one deigned to speak to me. Always promises of either my agonizing deaths or offers of lordship. All died by my hands regardless. So I stormed over to Luthor’s desk and brought myself to full height to stare him down.     

[i]“Greetings, I am Vega, assistant A.I. embedded within this suit to assist the man named Doomguy. Please excuse his behavior. He is not pleased at being extracted from his home dimension without his consent and so I politely request you return both of us back as there is an ongoing invasion that needs to be dealt with.” [/i]

[@Thatguyinastore] [@Chung] [@darkred]