- Location
- Hampden Park
25th December
08:03 GMT
Demonic sorcerers under the direction of Agony and Ecstasy chant, and portals to the other provinces of Hell open wide. Then Mammon-as-Satanus strides through one to Limbo about a half-second before Neron stalks through the one to Gull, arm in arm with Rosacarnis. He's dressed as a knight, kaahuite plate covered with a green surcoat. She's wearing a dress, runic symbols which hurt my eyes stitched into the fabric. Neron shoots Mammon a look of utter fury, while Mammon smiles politely and waves back. Rosacarnis merely nods, then the three of them head towards Mr Hayes, Mr Free and me.
"Orange Lantern!" Mammon's smile grows as he gets to within hailing distance. "I see that even Hell itself is not free of the havoc you create!"
Behind him, portals widen as soldiers begin marching through. Stercorax rides some sort of demonic insect-rhino at the head of a column of damned souls wearing what looks like grey power armour and carrying long-barrelled guns. Neron's soldiers on the other hand are more orc-like; hulking brutes armed with melee weapons and shields whose surfaces ripple with the power of the demonic spells bound to them. All of which will go dead if anything happens to Neron himself. A third column of mechanical and cybernetic… Things comes through another portal, the wraith-like form of Richard Simpson darting from war machine to war machine with gleeful energy. Other columns emerge from the other portals and move to occupy the positions indicated by the demonic civil servants who came here from Pandemonia with the Twins.
"I do worship Eris, my lord. A certain amount of chaos is to be expected."
Neron looks down at me contemptuously. "You are the one whom the entire Host of Heaven is pursuing? Such a small thing to cause such a great excitement."
I grin. "Thank you for coming, Arch-Duke Neron. I really appreciate it. It's a massive help to me, and I'm astonished at your generosity."
He and Mammon share a look, while Rosacarnis raises her right eyebrow. Breath hisses through his teeth. "We do not do this for you, fool. But handing you over to the lickspittles of the Silver City… Helping them, is inconceivable. Ejecting you amounts to the same thing. And if we killed you, they would simply come for your soul. And for the Host to have the temerity to invade our realm…"
Mammon nods. "The governance of Hell is… In dispute. Even before you slew the First, his power never entirely recovered from his defeat at the hands of John Constantine. There's not even any real consensus on who the forerunners are."
Neron's eyes burn with green flame. "Me."
Rosacarnis lays her right hand on his shoulder. "Calm yourself, your highness. You will have more than enough opportunities to demonstrate your strength this day."
Mammon nods cheerfully. "Which is rather the point. We're all strong within our own domains, but there is no real avenue to expand, to seize one another's territory and claim the Crown of Horns. Any of us who try-" He glances at Neron. "-get our knuckles rapped."
There's a sort of electric buzz as Mr Simpson appears. "It's a giant, demon, cock-waving contest! Whose is biggest?! Who knows how best to roger angels with it?! And who can do it when everybody's watching? Because if there's one thing demons respect, it's killing angels."
Mr Hayes smiles faintly. "Harm has no interest in either the crown or in waving his genitals. Harm is simply here to kill servants of God."
I nod. "You can't rule if no one is prepared to obey you. The lord who achieves the most, who demonstrates themselves to be in the most commanding position, will start getting pledges of loyalty from those who aren't strong enough to make their own claim. That will snowball… And Hell will have a new sovereign."
Mammon nods. "I'd thank you for the opportunity… But then afterwards I'd have to cut off my own lips."
"I don't believe that I've heard of the Crown of Horns."
Rosacarnis waves her right hand negligently. "After the Great Darkness rose, Lucifer agreed to share power with Beelzebub and Azazel in order to restore some semblance of stability to Hell. They both demanded that he forge them a crown to reflect their new status. So he did: one crown, which he suggested they share. Since they couldn't, it was left on a pedestal next to Lucifer's throne."
"Demons not being able to share was how John Constantine tricked the First, Second and Third into curing his lung cancer. It's a pretty big psychological weakness."
Neron's eyes narrow. "Mortals may consider you wise-" I can't help but shake my head. "-but you clearly know little of Hell."
"You guys know that I killed the First, right?"
Rosacarnis looks at me almost pityingly. "The succession is not simply a matter of killing your predecessor. The First did not kill Lucifer, and neither Remiel nor Duma killed him."
"What happened to them, anyway?"
The assembled demon lords look at one another, and snigger. Mammon shakes his head. "Never you mind. Simpson, are the Exegesis Guild going to make a showing?"
He wobbles his head from side to side. "Their mouths say 'yes', their troop movements say 'no'."
Neron's lip curls. "I'm not surprised. They've grown truculent and useless. I'm sure that the First only granted them their charter as a slight to Belial."
Mr Simpson nods. "You'll get no argument from me. I had to leave a good portion of my force behind in case they decide to pull anything, and I know what that does to my chances."
Neron nods. "I believe that it is firmly in Hell's interests that they be put in their place, once this is done."
Mammon nods. "Obviously. Any prince of Hell who won't respond to an external invasion is unworthy of their office."
"What are our chances?"
Neron sneers. "I don't much care what your chances are. But we've all been preparing for this. We've all been eagerly awaiting the day when we can overrun the Silver City and achieve dominion over the Earth. And while none of us were ready for it to happen today, we are more than capable of drowning the angels in their own blood."
"Glad to hear it." I take the Hellblazer off its harness and hold it out. "Would this help?"
Neron rolls his eyes. "A lever action rifle? We're not ignorant savage-"
Mr Simpson's eyes light up. "Oooooooooh. What have you done there?"
"-es." He frowns. "What? The kaahuite? Satanus wasn't exactly slow to attack him with it."
"No, the spell." He gestures. "Look at it!"
Rosacarnis cautiously takes the gun and examines the runes. "I believe that I understand. You're using the kaahuite to link anyone struck by the bullets to the Great Void directly. You humans can be so creative."
Mr Simpson's hands glow. "I doubt we'll have time for mass implementation, but if any of you want to pass weapons to my processors I should be able to replicate it." He looks my way. "This is good stuff, this is. Sephtian's design?"
"Technically, my design, which he checked and his employees enchanted, based on the work of whoever it was who created the Ace of Winchesters." I frown. "He ended up down here, didn't he? Which of you.. got him?"
Their eyes dart to one another's faces, their expressions carefully neutral. Mr Simpson shrugs and Rosacarnis returns her attention to me as Mammon and Neron's eyes meet and neither of them want to be the one to look away first.
"That will also be a matter to investigate once the Host are dealt with."
08:03 GMT
Demonic sorcerers under the direction of Agony and Ecstasy chant, and portals to the other provinces of Hell open wide. Then Mammon-as-Satanus strides through one to Limbo about a half-second before Neron stalks through the one to Gull, arm in arm with Rosacarnis. He's dressed as a knight, kaahuite plate covered with a green surcoat. She's wearing a dress, runic symbols which hurt my eyes stitched into the fabric. Neron shoots Mammon a look of utter fury, while Mammon smiles politely and waves back. Rosacarnis merely nods, then the three of them head towards Mr Hayes, Mr Free and me.
"Orange Lantern!" Mammon's smile grows as he gets to within hailing distance. "I see that even Hell itself is not free of the havoc you create!"
Behind him, portals widen as soldiers begin marching through. Stercorax rides some sort of demonic insect-rhino at the head of a column of damned souls wearing what looks like grey power armour and carrying long-barrelled guns. Neron's soldiers on the other hand are more orc-like; hulking brutes armed with melee weapons and shields whose surfaces ripple with the power of the demonic spells bound to them. All of which will go dead if anything happens to Neron himself. A third column of mechanical and cybernetic… Things comes through another portal, the wraith-like form of Richard Simpson darting from war machine to war machine with gleeful energy. Other columns emerge from the other portals and move to occupy the positions indicated by the demonic civil servants who came here from Pandemonia with the Twins.
"I do worship Eris, my lord. A certain amount of chaos is to be expected."
Neron looks down at me contemptuously. "You are the one whom the entire Host of Heaven is pursuing? Such a small thing to cause such a great excitement."
I grin. "Thank you for coming, Arch-Duke Neron. I really appreciate it. It's a massive help to me, and I'm astonished at your generosity."
He and Mammon share a look, while Rosacarnis raises her right eyebrow. Breath hisses through his teeth. "We do not do this for you, fool. But handing you over to the lickspittles of the Silver City… Helping them, is inconceivable. Ejecting you amounts to the same thing. And if we killed you, they would simply come for your soul. And for the Host to have the temerity to invade our realm…"
Mammon nods. "The governance of Hell is… In dispute. Even before you slew the First, his power never entirely recovered from his defeat at the hands of John Constantine. There's not even any real consensus on who the forerunners are."
Neron's eyes burn with green flame. "Me."
Rosacarnis lays her right hand on his shoulder. "Calm yourself, your highness. You will have more than enough opportunities to demonstrate your strength this day."
Mammon nods cheerfully. "Which is rather the point. We're all strong within our own domains, but there is no real avenue to expand, to seize one another's territory and claim the Crown of Horns. Any of us who try-" He glances at Neron. "-get our knuckles rapped."
There's a sort of electric buzz as Mr Simpson appears. "It's a giant, demon, cock-waving contest! Whose is biggest?! Who knows how best to roger angels with it?! And who can do it when everybody's watching? Because if there's one thing demons respect, it's killing angels."
Mr Hayes smiles faintly. "Harm has no interest in either the crown or in waving his genitals. Harm is simply here to kill servants of God."
I nod. "You can't rule if no one is prepared to obey you. The lord who achieves the most, who demonstrates themselves to be in the most commanding position, will start getting pledges of loyalty from those who aren't strong enough to make their own claim. That will snowball… And Hell will have a new sovereign."
Mammon nods. "I'd thank you for the opportunity… But then afterwards I'd have to cut off my own lips."
"I don't believe that I've heard of the Crown of Horns."
Rosacarnis waves her right hand negligently. "After the Great Darkness rose, Lucifer agreed to share power with Beelzebub and Azazel in order to restore some semblance of stability to Hell. They both demanded that he forge them a crown to reflect their new status. So he did: one crown, which he suggested they share. Since they couldn't, it was left on a pedestal next to Lucifer's throne."
"Demons not being able to share was how John Constantine tricked the First, Second and Third into curing his lung cancer. It's a pretty big psychological weakness."
Neron's eyes narrow. "Mortals may consider you wise-" I can't help but shake my head. "-but you clearly know little of Hell."
"You guys know that I killed the First, right?"
Rosacarnis looks at me almost pityingly. "The succession is not simply a matter of killing your predecessor. The First did not kill Lucifer, and neither Remiel nor Duma killed him."
"What happened to them, anyway?"
The assembled demon lords look at one another, and snigger. Mammon shakes his head. "Never you mind. Simpson, are the Exegesis Guild going to make a showing?"
He wobbles his head from side to side. "Their mouths say 'yes', their troop movements say 'no'."
Neron's lip curls. "I'm not surprised. They've grown truculent and useless. I'm sure that the First only granted them their charter as a slight to Belial."
Mr Simpson nods. "You'll get no argument from me. I had to leave a good portion of my force behind in case they decide to pull anything, and I know what that does to my chances."
Neron nods. "I believe that it is firmly in Hell's interests that they be put in their place, once this is done."
Mammon nods. "Obviously. Any prince of Hell who won't respond to an external invasion is unworthy of their office."
"What are our chances?"
Neron sneers. "I don't much care what your chances are. But we've all been preparing for this. We've all been eagerly awaiting the day when we can overrun the Silver City and achieve dominion over the Earth. And while none of us were ready for it to happen today, we are more than capable of drowning the angels in their own blood."
"Glad to hear it." I take the Hellblazer off its harness and hold it out. "Would this help?"
Neron rolls his eyes. "A lever action rifle? We're not ignorant savage-"
Mr Simpson's eyes light up. "Oooooooooh. What have you done there?"
"-es." He frowns. "What? The kaahuite? Satanus wasn't exactly slow to attack him with it."
"No, the spell." He gestures. "Look at it!"
Rosacarnis cautiously takes the gun and examines the runes. "I believe that I understand. You're using the kaahuite to link anyone struck by the bullets to the Great Void directly. You humans can be so creative."
Mr Simpson's hands glow. "I doubt we'll have time for mass implementation, but if any of you want to pass weapons to my processors I should be able to replicate it." He looks my way. "This is good stuff, this is. Sephtian's design?"
"Technically, my design, which he checked and his employees enchanted, based on the work of whoever it was who created the Ace of Winchesters." I frown. "He ended up down here, didn't he? Which of you.. got him?"
Their eyes dart to one another's faces, their expressions carefully neutral. Mr Simpson shrugs and Rosacarnis returns her attention to me as Mammon and Neron's eyes meet and neither of them want to be the one to look away first.
"That will also be a matter to investigate once the Host are dealt with."
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