The Blackest Night

"Darwin said: It's not the strongest of the species that survives nor the most intelligent. It's the one that is most adaptable to change." ~David Sarif
"Hail horrors," called Lucifer from his throne of rust and bones. "Hail infernal world!"
A roaring crowd of demons, punks, and thugs cheered the dark lord's every declaration. Their glee rippled throughout the burning underworld where flaming tongues lapped at the blood that rained from onyx clouds.
"Heaven is filled with posers," called Lucifer. "Ruled by a hierarchy of preps! And 'lo I am sick of the Demiurge ordering pizzas to our address! I go now to Earf to convey with our anti-globalist allies. Await me ye faithful for I shall return with an army capable of sacking the heavens."
Lucifer stepped from his thrown and into a swirling Nether Portal and disappeared into the mortal realms.
== Dark Premonitions: ==
Back on Earf, Vice was attending an interview on the Joe Rogan Experience. A year had passed since the Kali Yuga and Vice felt it high time to declassify the events for the wider public to hear of heroic sacrifices of Gay Robot and his gay operators. He went over current operations of what remains of the Axis of Epic Gamers. They got derailed halfway through when Joe brought out the edibles laced with weed. Most of the interview consisted of Vice ranting about his VRChat friends and their diaper fetish. They went onto discuss possible life on Mars and towards the end of the interview, Joe hit on a critical topic.
"So, you were in with Gay Robot, right? Like you were involved with Ram Ranch?"
Vice hesitated. He took a pensive sip of his weed-flavored vodka. "Uh... In the sense that Gaybo always went out of his way to involve me. I don't know much about what went on behind closed doors, though. Why?"
"So, you wouldn't know much about any secret projects," asked Joe.
"Other than the time Gaybo tried to subvert the Japanese government and restore the Empire? No..."
Joe got real close to the mic. He looked at both ends of the room as if to make sure no one was eavesdropping. He even shot wary glances at Jamie who sat behind his glistening RGB battle station.
"Jamie," said Joe almost in a whisper. "Bro, can you pull up those documents Alex gave us last episode?"
Vice furrowed a brow as several blurry documents were projected on the wall behind them. The mad scribbles were certainly Gaybo's handwriting. The confused signatures, hurried cursive, and every eye was dotted with a cutesy skull. Photographs and blueprints of a landscape Vice had never seen before lay sprawled before him in glittering, holographic detail.
As Jamie scrolled through, Joe went over the documents. "Apparently, there's a secret continent a hundred miles in the Gulf of Mexico. I've also been told that Gaybo and his inner circle were aware of it and made several excursions out there before. Know anything about this?"
"Never heard of it," Vice started to say. Suddenly, his phone vibrated over his crotch. He suppressed a moan and pulled it out. The text was from Mell. An alert was sent to him detailing suspicious flights detected over the glassed ruins of Texas. Vice dismissed himself from the interview and made haste back out to the parking lot where his new ride awaited. The finally completed Egg-II. He hopped in, lowered the hydraulics, and drove off at full speed.
== Cursed Encounter: ==
The desert road from Florida to the glassed remains of Texas was clear of traffic. Vice stopped by a gas station but after seeing the prices (entirely the fault of the current president), Vice threw up and forked over all the shekels he had. As he waited for all fifteen tanks to fill in his high powered Egg II, he felt a presence. A spiritual pressure the likes of which he had never sensed prior. Long before he had time to react, the presence was upon him. A shadow cast long over the hood of his car and consumed him in darkness. The scent of cheap cologne and mandrake piss permeated the air like a miasma of decay.
A voice from behind caused Vice to jolt to full alertness.
"Sup..."
Vice turned and saw someone he had never seen before. A stranger dressed in black. He felt a bit secure in the fact that the man was clearly goth. The stranger's lips twisted into a smile. Pearly teeth shined in the moonlight as he spoke. "You Vice?"
"Who wants to know?"
"I do..."
Vice looked him up an down. He then wisely checked his surroundings, remembering all the times Gay Ron told him anecdotes about the importance of situational awareness. Confidently, Vice said, "You look like a dude who fucks his sister. Relatable, but who are you."
The man giggled. "Name's Mell."
Vice nearly shat himself. "Nani!?"
"I came to give you a message," warned the stranger calling himself Mell. He paused for a long time. His eyes gleamed with wretched hate and avarice as he spoke, "War is coming..."
"What war," demanded Vice. "Who are you, really?"
The twisted visage of darkness merely scoffed at Vice. With a shrug of his shoulders he said in a whisper, "I'll only tell you once more. War is coming. Give me the Goblet and it can all be averted."
"What goblet," Vice asked, more confused than anything else."
Dark Mell's eyes gleamed with emerald envy. "Don't play dumb. The Goblet! Give it to me."
Vice stood his ground and spoke sternly as he reached for the razor sharp tanto he kept in his g-string. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Dark Mell rolled his eyes. "So be it then."
He walked off without another word. Vice was left stunned but bothered not to pursue him. He assumed the man a crackhead and carried on with his evening. The full moon shined overhead. He watched as it disappeared behind the cloak of onyx clouds until his tank was completely filled. He hopped back in his Egg II and drove off into the night. Little did he know, the storm that was about to cum.
== Bring Me to Life: ==
The road to Texas was long and thick. The clouds gathered in a thick blanket of darkness that blotted out the moon and stars. The heavens looked like an endless void. The sort of void Lovecraft would cum his pants over. Vice got a sense of foreboding as he drove closer to the scorched horizons. Texas was still a glassed, soupy mess after the Covenant invasion. A sense of forlorn overcame him. He turned on his favorite tracks from Meteora to suppress the numbness. He was passing through the once prosperous town of Whiterun, Texas when Numb came on. All that remained was ghosts and molten glass. The landscape was burnt to a crisp. Just as he started to zone out, however, he heard rustling in the back seat. Suddenly, the whole care smelled like boiled food.
Out of the darkness behind him, a British kid lunged forth. His hair was a messy mop of gothic black locks. He had circular glasses, a lightning bold scar burned into his forehead. He had on black eyeliner and lipstick. Before Vice could even scream, the stranger had a boxcutter held to his throat. In a thick, fish 'n chips accent, the boy said, "Gimme the Goblet!"
Vice felt like had just been caught in the under toe. He kept his hands on the steering wheel. His big eboy eyes darted about in search of a way out. Ruins surrounded him. Multistory buildings all run down and devoid of life. So many routes to flee yet he could think of no way to get out of the moving car.
"What the fuck goblet are you people talking about," cried Vice. "You're the second mother fucker to ask me about it! What is it!? Who the hell even are you!?"
"They call me Vampire," said the Brit. He pushed up his glasses all cool like but a little nerdy too. "Vampire Potter."
"Vampire Potter," exclaimed Vice. "Aren't you one of Gaybo's old Hot Topic buddies!? Why are you doing this?"
"Times change," Vampire said darkly. His fangs sparkled through a greedy grin. "I have a new employer and they seek the Goblet of Ice. A powerful artifact Gaybo kept hidden away. Now, hand it over or I'll slit your throat!"
Vice attacked first. He elbowed Vampire in the face and knocked the knife away in the process. Vampire lunged and slammed Vice's head in the dashboard multiple times until Vice managed to force the inhuman goth back. He struggled to keep control of the Egg II. A sparkle shined in one of the buildings up ahead. Vice dared to look up. There in one of the upper floors of a rundown Motel 6, Vice spotted the shining gleam of a forehead so large, he could recognize it anywhere.
It was Immanuel Kant! He was armed with an RPG and had it pointed at Vice's car.
Suddenly, Vampire backed off, opened the nearest door, and leapt from the speeding Egg II. By the time Vice realized what was happening, it was too late. Kant fired a rocket at Vice and got a direct hit. The Egg II went up in a hail of fire and shrapnel. Vice lost consciousness momentarily, but when he woke, he found himself lying on the side of the road. Kant and Vampire approached from both sides. Vice spat out blood as red as blood and stood to face his foes.
"Kant," Vice hissed in disgust. "In all my days, I never thought I'd see a time when the Goths would betray us!"
"Objectivity is my only allegiance," Kant said boldly. "Objective reason. Objective morality. Objective reality! Give me the Goblet and with it we'll build a new world. An objective world!"
"Still got an objectively big ass forehead," snarled Vice. The taste of his own blood and broken glass lingered on his tongue.
Kant grinned from ear to ear. "It's over, kid. Vampire," he ordered, turning to his companion. "Care to do the honors?"
Vampire nodded eagerly and pulled out a Glock 17 from under his shirt. There's no way he had a loicense for that G17 but he used it in spite of his base European instincts. Before he could pull that shitty New York-style trigger, a ball of light fell form the sky like a streak of lightning. An explosion erupted between Vice and the encroaching Goths. The figure that emerged from the wreckage was unmistakable. Vice gulped at the mere sight of those all black wings. His curly, dreamy chestnut hair. A wrathful glimmer in his pretty eyes. He was a bad boy but he also had a sensitive side. Vice could tell just by looking at him. That's how hot he was!
"Lucifer," cried Vampire. "Is that you!?"
"It can't be!" exclaimed Kant. "Vampire! Finish this!"
Vampire Potter unloaded an entire mag in Lucifer's direction. In the blink of an eye, Lucifer deflected the rounds mid air with a single, blinding swing of his blade. The bullets fell in halves at his feet.
The gun-toting goth stumbled backward in horror. "Nani!?"
Suddenly, Lucifer flickered out of sight. Vampire gasped and looked around. "That wasn't a flash step he did just now," Vampire muttered to himself. "It was a..."
He felt a presence behind him. Vampire cautiously turned around. He caught only a glimpse of a Lucifer's blade before it bit into his flesh and sent blood gushing everywhere. Vampire hit the ground and hacked up his own gore. As he gazed to the starry heavens he sputtered, "You can't kill me. I'm already... dead inside..." He fell limp and his gothic red eyes glazed over. Mascara turned to ebon tears stained his cheeks.
"This isn't over," cried Kant. "We'll have the Goblet! The master commands it!"
With that, he flash stepped away.
Lucifer turned to Vice with an intimidating scowl on his ivory face. "You're one of Gaybo's friends?"
Vice looked dumbfounded for a second. His brain had to catch up to what he was hearing. "Oh, of course Gaybo would have connections with fucking Lucifer."
Lucifer asked a question that broke Vice's heart. "Where is he? We always do sushi at the start of the month." Vice had to explain everything to Lucifer. The poor prince of hell was completely out of the loop. They carried on down the broken road on foot. Vice's head was held long and Lucifer's wings dragged behind him in the dirt.
== The Goblet of Ice: ==
A black Apache helicopter answered Vice's distress call. They were rescued by what few Gay Conquistadors survived the Kali Yuga and were taken deeper into the Texas wastelands. They were taken not to the ruins of Ram Ranch, but to the dried up coasts of Galveston. After the pilot was forced by Lucifer to stop momentarily so he could get some pigs in a blanket, they landed again over the glassed beaches. Gay Ron and Mell greeted them at the LZ. Vice introduced them to Lucifer, but Mell seemed to need no introduction. The Primordial fist-bumped Lucifer as if he were an old friend. Vice explained what happened but neither Gay Ron nor even Mell knew exactly who these new foes were.
"They were looking for something called the Goblet of Ice," said Vice. "Know anything about it."
Gay Ron stepped up. The light of the moon cascaded over his glistening physique. For the first time since they landed, Vice noticed just how pale Ron looked. Something was wrong with him...
"I can answer that," said Ron, his voice somewhat more raspy than usual. "But a topic as nuanced and misunderstood as this requires proper explanation. I really hate long-winded explanations and videos where I just talk at the camera. I detest lecturing, but this is gonna require one of those "dawn-of-time-explanations." In addition there's a lot of caveats and yabbits. A lot of minutia over contradicting details. Now, before we get into this, I'd ask everyone to please endure my speech impediments and my..."
Before Gay Ron could finish his usual disclaimers, before Vice and Lucifer even had a chance to pull up a couple chairs, Gay Ron broke down in a fit of wheezing. He covered his mouth with his dominant hand, but when he pulled away, his palm was coated in a thick film of blighted blood. His ichor was as black as oil. It shimmered with strange, toxic enchantments. Vice and Mell scrambled to help him back on his feet.
"It's nothing," said Ron. "Mell, hand me a.... *cough* Pop Tart."
"He's been like this ever since we got back," said Mell as he handed over a blueberry flavored Pop Tart. "We're not sure what's plaguing him, but the Pop Tarts seem to help his cough."
"Where a man belongs," said Ron as he bit into that blueberry goodness.
While Mell tended to Gay Ron, Lucifer took it upon himself to explain these matters to Vice. "When Gay Robot fled Germany at the end of the war, he brought with him several key artifacts. One was called the Goblet of Ice. It was enchanted during the Last Supper when gnostic Jesus drank from it."
"Isn't that just the Holy Grail," asked Vice.
"No, that's a different thing. The Goblet was just where Jesus was storing his crystal meth. When he died, his spirit permeated in the Goblet and imbued it with a unique power. Anyone in possession of the goblet is granted an unlimited supply of crystal meth."
"Such power," exclaimed Vice.
"Gaybo had it locked away in secrecy to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands. For years, it was put under guard of the twin prince and princess who rule over the lost continent of Magvel. Magvel, Texas. We'll have to go there if we want it back."
"Magvel?"
Lucifer got too distracted by his last pig in a blanket to explain anything else. Mell called in another helicopter to take them to this hidden land that only Lucifer seemed to know about. They were surprised to see the helicopter already had one passenger. The one and only Brandon. He greeted his old war-time buddies with excitement and kept shoving pictures of himself from his latest photoshoot in everyone's face. He claimed they were his "top five most Aryan poses." Everyone piled into the chopper and they flew off over the water and toward the vast unknown of Magvel. But what horrors and mysteries await our heroes on their journey to an island Gay Robot had all to himself up until now?
== The Lost Lands of Magvel: ==
Lucifer immediately wanted sushi and insisted they stop by the same restaurant Gay Robot use to take him every other Saturday. Unfortunately for Lucifer's toned, rippling belly, they had barely any time to adjust to this hostile new environment. Just as they passed over into Magvel airspace, their chopper was hit by a single rocket and was forced to crash land in dense jungle. Vice wrestled free of the wreckage and went to help with the others. He barely had time to take in the enchanting view of inner Magvel. The glowing wisps that dotted the dense foliage with hues of various neon greens. The scent of fresh, non-GMO foods wafted in from the towns to the north.
"It had to be Kant,' shouted Vice over the roar of fires and groaning metal. "Him and Dark Mell must have beat us here!"
"Come," ordered Mell. "We must carry on regardless. Lucifer, can you guide us to the capital?"
"What are you, my dad? Why don't you get out of my business already!?" Lucifer fiercely pouted and went to go brood in a corner. He was brooding harder than Gay Robot ever could. It was clear to everyone present where Gaybo got it from.
With some expert land navigation on the part of Gay Ron, hacking and wheezing along the way, they made it to the capital city. When they reached the castle entrance, they were given immediate entry. To everyone's surprise, the guards recognized Vice of all people and said they knew his mug from a dart board Gay Robot kept in the dungeon. They were seated in a den area and told to wait for the prince. He emerged soon after. He was shirtless, scalding hot with rippling abs and a muscular but not too muscular physique. He smelled of pheromones and hotness. Vice wasn't too impressed when he found out the Prince of Magvel was yet another blue-haired sword user.
"Sorry about the wait," said Prince Ephraim as he ran his finger through his lush, cyan hair. "I was uh... tending to the princess."
"A real woman," asked Vice in disbelief. "I've only heard stories...."
"Let me tell you an anecdote," said Gay Ron with a smile and everyone laughed except for Brandon who looked very solemnly at his credit card for a moment. Nobody seemed to notice, though.
When they brought Prince Ephraim up to speed, he allowed them to take the Goblet provided Mell or Lucifer be the only ones who could lay hands on it. With these simple terms agreed to and Vice feeling a bit jealous, they all prepared to follow Ephraim to the high security vault where the Goblet was kept. Before they could start, an explosion shook the whole castle. Panicked, the group ran outside to find the source of the trouble.
== Breaking the Habit: ==
The gang filed out into the castle courtyard to find the vault below had been broken into. It was empty and the culprits stood on thin air high above the clouds like a bunch of thug ass Soul Reapers. It was Dark Mell and Immanuel Kant! They had twisted smiles on their faces. Dark Mell greedily eyed the Goblet in his arms. It oozed with liquid meth. The most precious, heavenly, and pure meth of all.
"Gawd damn, that's a big ass forehead," said Mell.
"I told you," said Vice. "The size of a dwarf planet."
Kant grew enraged. He dove straight for Vice but Gay Ron got between them and bared the brunt of the blow. He coughed up goffik blood and doubled over. Kant loomed over him with a taunting forehead... I mean smile. He had a taunting, evil smile. "Ebony poisoning," muttered Kant smugly. Gay Ron could only look up in confusion. Kant elaborated further, "I've seen it before. You must have fought in the Kali Yuga. Pah! It can't be helped..."
Gay Ron tried to stand. Tried to fight back but Kant just pushed him to the ground with one hand and kept moving. "I don't waste my time on weak opponents. And don't be so hasty throw your life away here, boy. I don't know how much time you have left, but don't waste it."
Kant headed straight for Vice. Brandon stepped to his side and drew a double-edged katana. "Not a step closer," Brandon warned but charged anyway which completely nullified his warning. He lunged at Kant with all his might, but he felt all the air get knocked out of his lungs when he something stopped him dead in his tracks. He opened his eyes to see Kant mere inches away from him. Kant caught Brandon's Zanpakutō with a single finger and it shattered into a million pieces.
"Nani!!?"
Kant kicked Brandon in the gut and sent him flying into the cobblestone walls of the castle. Vice was suddenly left all alone with Kant. He looked around for Lucifer but saw him nowhere. Regardless, Vice didn't back down. He preventively reached his hand into his pants knowing that if there was ever a time to use his secret weapon, it may as well be now.
Meanwhile, in the sky...
Dark Mell loomed over the battlefield with his hands in his pockets. That's how you knew he was really strong. Mell charged him heroically. The God of Incest flew straight into the sky and clenched his fists so hard, he could feel it in his cheeks. Dark Mell just stood on a cloud and grinned right as Mell got a little too close.
"Lanza del Relámpago!"
With one hand on the Goblet, Dark Mell used his suspiciously more muscular arm to counterattack. It was over before regular Mell could even see what he was doing. In a flash, he was engulfed by overwhelming power. Neon green energy consumed him. Mell had never felt spiritual pressure like this before. Not sense... Not sense that day.
When next Mell came to, he was on the ground and Lucifer above him. Lucifer leaned in and said, "I should've known he was too strong. We have to pull back. There will be no victory today. Not here..."
"But... The Goblet!"
"It'll have to wait."
From on high, Dark Mell grinned evilly.
"Who are you," demanded Mell. "What are you!?"
Dark Mell just laughed at him. "Just a humble mercenary," he said and stepped into a Garganta that closed behind him.
All that remained was Kant and he proved himself to be a formidable foe. Vice struggled to hold his own. Katana met katana just like it did back when Vice fought Sikand 'Ur. He remembered all his training. All that time spent grinding achievements in Dark Souls II. He parried a few strikes from Kant but could never properly counter. Suddenly, Kant drew back and pointed an open palm. at Vice. He fired a massive, all white Cero that completely consumed Vice. The blue-haired eboy collapsed at Kant's feet.
"Pitiful," Kant spat. "Ho! Ho! Even Hegel put up a better fight than you..."
Just then, he felt a new presence. Lucifer... The Darkest Knight plunged his katana of destiny into Kant's side.
Kant looked back with rage. His eyes glowed red and cried tears of blood. "Bastard! I should've known you wouldn't fight honorably!"
"Maybe if that goddamn forehead wasn't so big, you would've seen me cummin'."
"This isn't over," Kant hissed and flash stepped away.
Lucifer stood tall over what was left of the castle and surveyed his surroundings. Gay Ron was severely sick. Vice was out cold and badly wounded. Mell was not much better off. Just when he thought he was all out of options, Prince Ephraim stepped up to his side and said, "I can't offer you any more aid than I already have. However, there is one place right here and Magvel that might be able to help you turn the tide."
== Old Friends: ==
Vice finally came to in a humble tent filled with incense and shamanistic trinkets. Dreamcatchers, feathers, and ceremonial garb lay sprawled in every corner. He found himself lying in a nest of handwoven blankets and a soft pillow, but beneath all that was nothing but dirt.
Sitting at Vice's side was none other than David Sarif!
"Doc," breathed Vice in shock. "I haven't seen you since you had that meltdown on X."
"Many such cases," said David. "How are you feeling, son? Liking the new augments?"
"Augments?" Vice looked down and gasped. Half his body was unrecognizable. His limbs had been replaced by artificial ones. Sleek, black carbon fiber meshed with his once mortal flesh. HIs eyes gleamed an augmented shade of blue, hidden beneath a pair of retractable sunglasses installed directly into his skull. "Am I... Am I even still human?"
"That's up for you to decide," said Sarif. "They called me in from Detroit. I came as soon as they told me what happened to you. This was the only way I could save you. The only way I know how."
"Where am I," asked Vice with a pained groan.
"Horde Embassy of Magvel. Everyone's waiting on you in the main tent."
Vice gave Sarif a fist bump and headed out. The Horde encampment was crowded with tents, spikes, and buff warriors. Vice shambled through the humble tents of the Tauren, the Orc encampments, Goblin merchants, and Troll ritual circles. He passed by the splendor of Blood Elf mage towers before finally reaching the head tent. Inside, he found Mell, Brandon, and Lucifer, but no signs of Gay Ron anywhere. They all sat huddled around a fire. A towering hulk of an Orc Shaman stood at the center of the room.
"Lok'tar, Vice," greeted the Shaman. "Friends of Gay Robot our friends of the Horde! Please, take a seat."
Vice scanned the room. He checked twice over but never found... "Where's Ron?"
The Shaman showed Vice to a tent where Gay Ron was being treated by Tauren healers. He lay wrapped in handwoven quilts crafted by the lovely cow women. Magickal incense burned and fogged up the whole room. A mat of straw was prepared for him as a bed and there was a steaming pot of water laid among staffs, potions, and other humble fineries. Gay Ron was fast asleep so he and the Shaman returned to the others.
"Ebony poisoning," said the Shaman gravely. "We've stabilized him, but I'm afraid we can provide no more than temporary alleviate the symptoms. The disease, as far as we know, is incurable."
The Shaman silently studied those who still stood. Brandon, Vice, Lucifer, and Mell. Those grizzled few who were still able to fight cum with cum. "Our Goblin scouts have found the dark one you seek. He hides just beyond the broken shores of Normandy."
A wave of gasps, awes, and the odd giggity could be heard in the crowd beyond. "The Warchief has been informed and committed his finest fleet to the cause."
"A whole fleet," asked Mell. "We appreciate all the help but... why?"
The Shaman cracked his knuckles. "Your friend Gaybo has been an honored member of the Horde. He served boldly every major conflict since the war in Northrend. The Horde will repay him in kind today. It also helps that the Warchief and his council have been champing at the bit to expand our territory. Our army will establish a beach head. You will slip in behind us and take out Dark Mell while the Globalists are distracted."
"Wait," Vice interjected in a rare display of thoughtfulness. "Dark Mell and his henchmen kept calling themselves mercenaries. Does that mean it was the Globalists who paid them off?"
The Shaman shrugged his meaty shoulders. "Only one way to find out."
Everyone stood up, prepared utterly to die 4 dis shit but the Shaman stopped them.
"Hold on," said the Orc, looking at Mell fondly. "I have something for you. Wait here."
He left and returned moments later with a massive sword in hand. His hulking frame made it seem small at first. It was a jagged weapon covered in thick sheets of frost. Burning symbols were etched into the spine of the blade and glowed a sinister shade of cobalt. The Orc handed the weapon to Mell and the flaxen-haired boy nearly dropped it when he felt its full weight. A deathless chill ran down his spine as he took the sword in his hands. His fingers went numb almost instantly. His breath plumed in front of him as if it were midwinter. Thin icicles started to form around his hands the longer he held the cursed blade.
"Every Death Knight wields a rune blade," said the Shaman. "Weapons forged from unholy metal and damned souls. The runes give them their dark powers. As for this one... I'm sure Gaybo would have wanted you to have it."
Mell clenched the sword tight, hearing the voices of so many damned souls echo in his mind, he said sternly, "Let's finish this fight!"
== The Day of Days: ==
Mell found out the hard way that he was prone to sea sickness. It was midnight when the fortified coasts of Europe came into view. Fog drifted over the foaming waves. The ship rocked from side to side as it cut through the frozen seas. A Goblin and Troll piloted the ship, but the Troll was too busy smoking weed with Vice to do his actual job. The first whistles of artillery fire sobered them in an instant.
The Goblin captain called out over explosions and grizzled male moans, "All right, gamers! This is your stop! A beach lined with Globalists!"
They stormed the beaches. Bullets zipped past them. Hungry sharks swam behind them while crazed pink-haired creeps manned the defenses ahead. The Orcs charged first as shock troops and cut through the bulk of the SJW defense with ease. The Trolls and Goblins flanked while the Blood Elves mopped up the core pockets of resistance. As Vice's suspiciously fluffy boots touched the black sand of France, he got a whiff of Franco-Belgian BO and his nose crinkled with disgust. He saw no signs of the core Globalist leadership. GameStop, The Sun, Soros, or any of them for that matter. He took it as a blessing and led his friends deeper into they fray. They dodged STDs and sharp pencils alike on their way to the mainland.
They cleared the last machine gun nests and Vice dared to think they were in the clear until...
"Yare Yare Daze!"
Everyone took up defensive positions. From around a bend in the rocky shore came none other than GameStop. "We alwaysss knew you'd cum back."
He spoke with his usual nerdly lisp.
"GameStop," Vice said almost sorrowfully. "Can't you see they're just using you? Suckling you dry of all your hedge funds until you shrivel up like a dried squid? When they're done with you, they'll kick you to the side like trash!"
"Bastard," hissed GameStop. "You know nothing!"
"Just tell us where Dark Mell is," demanded regular Mell. "We don't wanna fight you!"
GameStop looked genuinely confused. "Who!?"
Before the gang could ask more questions, GameStop lost interest altogether and began charging up.
The whole ground shook under the weigh of GameStop's spiritual pressure. "I'll kill you all here and the others will finally respect me! I'll surely get a promotion from this!"
Suddenly, Alex Jones swung in on a vine and landed between GameStop and the advancing freedom fighters. He tore of his shirt and screamed so loud the moon shattered into pieces as if it were a wine glass. He turned to face Vice and the others. His face was grizzled like that of a man who spent way too long behind enemy lines. His back was lined with scars and long closed wounds. Dirt and camo paint covered every inch of skin that wasn't marred by the scars of a long war.
"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! WE'RE BREAKING THE CONDITIONING!!!"
"Alex," exclaimed Vice. "Don't tell me you've been here this whole time!"
The first time Vice met Alex, he was just another faceless grunt who signed up to stop the Globalists during the first invasion of Europe. Yet here he was, still alive and stronger than ever. Vice whence at the thought of how many people got left behind during the disastrous retreat after such a terrible loss.
"Don't worry about me," breathed Alex in a crazed huff. He moved with all the speed and strength of a berserk. He carried twin axes and three RPGs strapped to his back. He almost seemed to relax a bit when he heard the sound of Horde mana bombs erupting all over the coast. The sounds of liberation!
"We've been waiting for this day," said Alex almost calmly. "The day we could finally take the fight to the Globalists. I've been doing this for thirty years and now it's finally paying off! Go on ahead! All of you! I'll deal with him!"
"But Alex," pleaded Mell.
"Dark Mell is hiding out in New Vegas! Find him and end this before it's too late! If the Goblet falls in Globalist hands, there'll be no stopping them!"
Vice was more confused then anything else. "But how do you know all that? And how do you know why we're here!?"
GameStop fired the first Getsugas at Alex and he blocked them with his Zanpakuto. "No time," exclaimed Alex. He looked up toward a rocky cliff to the west. "Virt! Now!"
Just then, a sniper opened fire on GameStop and pinned him behind some rocks. The way forward laid wide open. Mell saw the clearing and charged. Everyone but Vice followed. Lucifer yanked Vice by the wrist as he went. As he was dragged away, Vice tried to get a better look at the mysterious sniper. A man dressed in white and black. His hair long and white flowed in the coastal breeze. It almost looked like Gaybo but the face was.... different.
== Hybrid Theory: ==
New Vegas was a glistening mega city. It was the capital metropolis of the Globalists and their ground zero for experimenting with a new technocratic dystopia where everything is bought and paid for by Vbucks issued by the government. Only those fiercly loyal to the System can survive in this neon hellscape. It smelled of microplastics and everyone had multicolored hair, or was obese, or both. Towering skyscrapers stabbed the heavens. Each of them dwarfed the old Tower of Babel and this time there was no Allah to bring them back down to the earth. Man's material ego was on full display. It was a city built on pure cringe and a whole lot of soy.
"This place sucks,'" said Mell.
"I kinda like it," said Vice cause he unironically likes vaporwave aesthetic. Lucifer thought about putting him out of his misery then and there but decided against it.
They got stopped by a Globalist guard at a checkpoint, but as soon as they found out he was a Smash player, Brandon put the moves on him. They went to the back for a while and when they returned, Brandon was wiping his chin and the guard looked pleased with himself. "We're clear to go," said Brandon with a bit of shame in his tone.
Nobody questioned it. They went to the big casino at the other end of the strip. There they found Dark Mell huffing crack cocaine off an egirl's ass in the VIP room of a Motel 6. Mell pulled out his rune blade and challenged him to a duel. Dark Mell grinned greedily and wiped his nose. "You want the Goblet," he said and pointed to a golden cup sat on a pedestal behind him. "Then cum get it!"
Lucifer cracked his knuckles. Brandon rolled up his sleeves. Vice tried to step forward, but Mell held out his arms. "He's mine," said the old god. "Just wait here."
Dark Mell grinned sinisterly at the challenger.
The whole Motel 6 exploded from the clashing spiritual pressure. Mell and Dark Mell lunged and collided like two comets. Mell's flaxen energy clashed with Dark Mell's neon green. They cut swathes through the sky. Dark Mell spawned a neon spear in his hand. It was a little floppy. A little flaccid, but Mell still didn't want to be hit by it. He narrowly avoided being impaled only to be kicked so hard he flew into a building and crashed straight through it. Mell wobbled to his feet. He saw Dark Mell standing on thin air, the moon behind him. His big green eyes glowered down at his opponent with sick amusement.
Mell felt his side soak with blood. Somehow, he managed to get cut anyway. Before he could react, Dark Mell flash stepped right in front of him with the Lanza glowing at his throat. Mell instinctively swung the rune blade and left a shallow gash in Dark Mell's shoulder. The black-clad foe jumped back in shock. Mell looked down to his sword. He watched as it drank the blood of his opponent and Mell felt that same blood heal his wounds completely. Suddenly, he understood the blade. Give it blood to drink and it will heal the user. He looked back to Dark Mell. He knew he cut Dark Mell in the left shoulder but for some reason, his right wrist was bleeding as well.
Dark Mell raised his floppy Lanza again and charged. This time he appeared right behind Mell and cut into his back. Mell had just enough time to duck away and turn around only to see that same Lanza being thrown at him like a javelin. As Mell narrowly dodged a lethal blow, he noticed more blood. This time it was on Dark Mell's right shin. Every time he used his powers, he seemed to damage himself. A strategy started to form in Mell's ingenious mind. This time, Mell took the initiative and landed a cut on Mell's side. The sword healed its wielder but left a nasty gash in the opponent. They stepped away from each other. With room to breath, Mell started asking questions.
"Who do you really work for? The Globalists or somebody else?"
No answer.
"Who are you? And how do you have such power? The last time I fought someone with spiritual pressure like yours it was..."
Mell trailed off. He was suddenly plagued by flashbacks. Himself and Wigger dueling in the stars. Him narrowly dodging attacks from Wigger's joust. The image of Wigger accidentally hitting himself in the mouth with his own joust. Somewhere amid the collage of repeated memories, Mell heard an echoing voice say, "Bitch ass!"
Dark Mell still did not answer, though, when asked about his powers, his usual grin faded. He looked genuinely confused as if he had no real idea how or where these powers came from.
Suddenly, a phone started ringing. Dark Mell dipped his hand into his pocket and answered his Iphone 666X and said, "Who dis?"
Mell could make out a woman's voice on the other end of the line but he failed to hear exactly what she was saying. All he could do was listen to Dark Mell and watch his facial expressions change with the conversation.
"Sis," said Dark Mell. "That you?"
His Lanza, which had been limp the entire fight suddenly hardened in an instant. "I'm at work! I... You got stuck in the washing machine again? Ugh... Okay, I'll be there soon." Dark Mell hung up and turned to his confused opponent. "Sorry about this, I gotta go."
"But... But what about the fight? And the Goblet!? You're employers!!?"
Dark Mell shrugged and released his Lanza. "Huh? I don't care anymore. You can have it. See ya."
"Peace," said Mell right as Dark Mell flash stepped clear out of sight.
== The Ultimate Enemy: ==