Titan's Realm - The Great Steppe

"We have arrived."

The Titan's Realm wasn't exactly what Dark Samus had imagined when she thought of 'Hell.' Or perhaps it was right on the mark.

The air was frigid, and acrid with the stench of decay. The sky was cloudy with a hue like steel, casting a cold, blue glow over the environment. The whole place just felt...dead. There were dead trees and roots littering the area, piles of rotten flesh and pools of blood before them. Ash fell from the sky, and the eerie cries of monsters unseen echoed across the clearing. Occasionally thunder and lightning would liven the skies. The spine and ribcage of some enormous creature enclosed the area behind them, and further up the path, a skull and arm to match. By the skull a fire was lit, marking an entrance - as the 'throat' of the creature seemed to drop far beneath the earth.

"Are you certain we haven't arrived late?" Dark Samus asked, hovering over a half-melted skull.

"In a cosmic sense, perhaps," Marauder replied, stepping up to the throat of the beast. "Our destination lies below."

Out of the corner of her eye Dark Samus noticed a pedestal...like some barbaric equivalent to a terminal. It bore a mark she'd recognized back in Taras Nabad, radiating a green aura and begging to be touched.

Marauder noticed her curiosity, walking back over to stand with her. "That...would be a reading of one of the Slayer's Testaments. The carnage you see around you...the remains of the Titan that paint this area, all was wrought by the Doom Slayer. Hell has written countless stories recounting his rampage against their kind."

Dark Samus held her hand up to the pedestal, and a green energy sparked about her arm as it activated. The demonic voice that read echoed across the desolate landscape, as it spoke of the Slayer with great respect, fear, and loathing. A race as widespread and powerful as demonkind, who had absorbed entire dimensions into their domain...to think that they would tell cautionary tales about this one man.

"The Doom Slayer has quite the reputation," Dark Samus said, staring at the now-dormant pedestal. It sat alone boldly, silently awaiting the next passerby curious of its contents.

"It is important to recognize your adversary as such," Marauder said, turning his back.

"They...told stories of the Hunter back in my world...how she plagued the Pirates at nearly every corner, always a distress signal away, and never leaving any survivors. Even past them, rumours and tales of her exploits spread to disgustingly far corners of the galaxy.."

"Yet, in battle, you knew she was fallible."

"She would make mistakes...missed shots, poor positioning. I would get the upper hand, and then she would adapt."

"But you were able to push her to that to begin with. Tell me, Dark Hunter...do you believe she feared you?"

"At first. In time she came to expect me, and perhaps, even view me as a nuisance...it was infuriating."

"Others?" Marauder asked, facing her again.

"Those graced by my presence worshipped me as their God."

"You were high on power."

"I had believed it was my power to claim then," Dark Samus said, mimicking a 'folding arms' motion she'd observed him do. "What about you, though?"

"What about me?"

"Surely your enemies know your name. You've been out here surviving for longer than you can recount."

"I've had my clashes with Hell's forces, in their attempts to reclaim me. Still, I make an effort to stay out of the limelight. It's much like I told you...I was never meant to have an identity to call my own. And I won't have earned one until I've done something noteworthy."

Dark Samus stared at him for a few moments, as if something clicked for her.

"That's why you've been training to fight the Slayer. To prove…"

"That I exist." Marauder turned back away from her, starting to walk back towards the giant skull.

In her relatively short existence, Dark Samus hadn't the time or state of mind for sentimentality. She'd observed it...watching her Pirates when left alone, Federation marines her scouts were spying on. Back then such frivolity felt pointless. All that mattered was the spread of Phazon throughout the universe. But now…

She did recall that words of encouragement from peer to peer often led to an increase in troop efficiency, some supernatural psychic force they referred to as "morale." Creatures with higher morale would perform better across the board, being less prone to the performance hits taken by fatigue, stress and despair. Perhaps, if she could emulate this miracle practice, it could benefit the both of them in the same way.

"Good...job."

Marauder stopped, turning to look at her with curiosity. "Good...job?" he asked.

Dark Samus froze up. This is not the reaction I expected, she thought to herself. Do I abort, and risk instilling a sense of confusion and unease? Or do I press forward with this attempt in the hopes of boosting our combat efficiency..?

"I meant...you're doing well."

"I'm not certain I follow."

Crap. Whenever others would utter such phrases at their allies, that was all that was required to instill 'morale!' Was there another component? I will not be defeated by such a simple exchanging of sentiments! Just pick up where you left off...

"You're doing well...in your conquest against obscurity," she said slowly, starting to pick up on her angle. "You said you wanted to accomplish a noteworthy task. You have survived this long where most of your brethren have fallen, haven't you? On top of that you...rescued...me from certain doom in my time of rebirth and confusion. I would consider that noteworthy."

Marauder looked at her for a moment, perhaps processing her words.

Did it work? Have I generated 'morale?' Why do I feel so vulnerable all of a sudden, as if I'm in danger? There are no attackers in our vicinity, yet it feels as if my defenses have been trampled…

"Not an attempt I'd expect out of you, Dark One," Marauder said, amusement apparent in his tone. "Your words are appreciated." He turned away then, waiting for her to join his side before pressing onward.

The mission was a success. I can feel this 'good Morale' surging throughout my body, as if it's lifting me to greater heights! What an incredible power..!

Marauder didn't question why Dark Samus' aura had flared up all of a sudden...he merely assumed she was psyching herself up for the coming battle. It was difficult to read her emotions without a...traditional face to track.

Together, they dropped into the abyss that awaited them down the Titan's throat.

. . .

A cavern-made-temple, gilded with the remains of creatures long passed...the demons were resourceful, when need be. The cavern was spacious, and warmer than the outside...perhaps by way of lakes of boiling blood...ever filling from unseen crevices in the walls and viscera that made up the environment. Torches lit up a path further in. This entrance area, like the outside, appeared desolate...save for a figure the pair noticed watching them from a higher platform. It stood behind a veil of steam given off by the blood lake below, lit up by a torch next to him. His beady, red eyes shined through behind the steam...and soon, a glowing, red axe matching Marauder's.

"It would appear that the Defector has joined us...and the heathen has brought an ally."

"Marauder…?" Dark Samus asked, training her cannon on the familiar figure that observed them. It stood atop a staircase that led into the temple proper. In appearance this adversary looked strikingly similar to her companion - of a similar, perhaps slightly larger build and height. Unlike Marauder's, his eyes were red instead of yellow, and he lacked the extra scraped-together armor her ally wore to cover his neck and abdomen. Still, there was no doubt that the base was identical. The handle of an axe was strapped to one of his legs, and a double-barrelled shotgun to the other - just like her companion's.

"Yes...that would be another," her partner said, answering her question as he stepped in front of her, readying his own weaponry. "Thoroughly tainted by Hell's energies and loyal to their horde...and the Khan. His is a crowd it would be wise to avoid. Watch our surroundings."

Sure enough, demons began to appear, revealing their hideous hides from the darkness around them. The yellow and red eyes of imps crawling down the walls, Cacodemons and a Pain Elemental approaching their flank. For now, they seemed content with observing, stalking their prey as they awaited the Marauder that commanded them to make his move.

"You know so little, Defector…" the Marauder continued. "Our Khan has fallen…as has the balance of the worlds. Even the one you travel with stinks of the Invaders. Your heresy shows no bounds…"

"Defector?" Dark Samus asked. Now training her cannon on the horde that sized them up like their next meal.

"The others like me are part of Hell's armies now...as we were intended to be. Somehow I missed the memo." He looked at her briefly. "Our position is not a favorable one. We need higher ground."

"Up the stairs. The pools should be more shallow the higher we go." Her tone changed. "You told me a 'Marauder' was all you were ever meant to be. Clearly, you've become something more than that. If a 'defector' is what you are, then take your title in stride."

Her Marauder exhaled slightly with a growl. Perhaps, someone noteworthy was who they required, now.

"Even still, you choose to ignore the truth before you. Aranea Imperatix will be resurrected, and she will unite us against the Invaders. Do you still turn your back on your destiny, Defector?"

To answer his question, 'The Defector' swung his axe at their adversary, a wave of raw Argent slicing through the air. The Marauder blocked it with his shield.

"If you survive...I will be the one to bring your heads to our Mastermind."

He jumped backward out of view, and suddenly the horde was upon them, roaring with the insatiable thrill of bloodlust.

Dark Samus took the first shot, an organic-looking missile erupting from her cannon and liquifying a group of imps that lunged at them. Her allied Marauder sliced through a Pinky that charged them from the front, and led her across the path and up the first flight of stairs. Up here, the blood lake was more shallow, which made for easier footing against their assailants.

A lunging Cacodemon went down to the Dark Hunter's trademark Scattershot Beam, a few of the rounds tagging a couple of the Pain Elemental's Lost Souls. It fired the remaining few at her feet, the flaming skulls exploding as they hit the ground, kicking up steaming blood around them. Dark Samus gracefully glided out of the way of two of them. A third nearly caught her head on, but she slammed her fist into the lake - a cylindrical shield of synthetic Argent kicking up around her. They deflected the Lost Soul back where it came from, and the Pain Elemental fell in a shower of chunks and horns.

The Defector sliced an energy blade at an Arachnotron coming down the wall near them, knocking it off and causing it to fall upside down. It smashed its turret when it hit the ground, and another axe swing cleaved the beast in two, its mechanical parts erupting with a shower of sparks. Another Cacodemon lunged its barbed tongue at him, wrapping around the axe handle. The Defector let himself and the axe propel towards the monster, and once close enough, he blew it away with the double barrelled shotgun he'd brandished.

A duo of Hell Knights then rushed the pair, who were able to dash out of the way - the Defector summoning his spirit wolf to aid in their counterattack. With one graceful leap it bit the leg off of one of the Knights, and as one demon collapsed and the other leapt for another attack, Dark Samus collided with the latter one mid air, encased in a swirling sphere of volatile energy. With the Hell Knight pressed up against her, she rocketed downward towards the staggered one - crushing them both violently against one another, and embedding their remains deep within the ground.

The room was now nearly clear, and the duo ran up the remaining flight of stairs to confront the Marauder that had ambushed them. But as the Defector stepped beyond the entrance to the temple, a gate of iron bars shut behind him, leaving Dark Samus out. More creatures began to spawn on that side of the gate - meaning they both had a fight to face.

. . .

The room the Marauder resided in was tricky, if direct. A wide bridge connected the entrance to the far side - down below was a shallow pool of acidic slime, with four pillars in the corners making up scarce footing. A suitable arena, the Defector thought. A wise person once told him that the key to success in combat was to see every environment as an arena. This would be no different.

"An adequate hiding place," the Defector called, the rivalling Marauder who would face him standing at the other end of the bridge.

"I would see it as your grave."

As predicted, the Marauder led with a swing, flingling a blade of Argent meant to cleave him in two. The Defector leapt over it, interrupting an up close swing with a point blank blast from his shotgun. It was a devastating hit, sending the Marauder stumbling back as scraps of armor and chunks of flesh were blown from his body - yet, like all demons, he would continue to fight as if he hadn't sustained any injuries. The Marauder dashed out of the Defector's range for a moment, choosing to pepper him with energy blade after energy blade, before running to charge again.

The Defector pulled up his Argent Shield, defending from two swings before the third dissipated the barrier - Argent worked wonders against Argent, as always. He dodged out of the way of another direct attack, though the Marauder wasted no time in continuing his assault. An overhead swing was dodged, a horizontal one ducked under, and the third attack the Defector countered with another shotgun blast, with much the same staggering effect. This time, the Defector followed up. His shotgun went up in flames and vanished - and in that instant, it was replaced with another weapon. Cylindrical, with gas tubes and electronic panelling lining the weapon. Like all of his gear it looked worn with aeons of use, though it still hummed passively to life - a quiet, dangerous purr with bass that vibrated the weapon. While the Marauder recovered from the shotgun blast, this new weapon fired upon him - its sole projectile piercing its target even before the concentrated screech of its discharge filled the air. It was a single round that made contact with the far wall almost immediately after it shredded cleanly through armor and bone, leaving behind a spiraling trail of blue smoke...the signature of a longtime staple of the Defector's full arsenal, the Railgun.

The kinetic force of the weapon blew the Marauder back along the shot's trajectory. He was blown off the bridge and into the slime below - though, he was quick to recover, and managed to jump out of the slime before it could consume him. Still, his boots became melded with the demonic flesh underneath, and the acidic material bubbled and steamed around the point of impact. When the Marauder went to leap back towards him, he stumbled for a moment, before continuing his onslaught as if nothing happened. That's how demons fought. Without any sense of self-preservation or care for one's injuries, regardless of what horrific pain they were made to endure.

Pain. That was a sensation the Defector knew all too well. And there was a searing pain that had burned into him from his blindside. Green Argent plasma crackled and dissipated off his shoulder as he was flung off the side of the bridge. A mighty Baron of Hell had caught him while his focus was on the Marauder - but landing in the slime was going to hurt a whole lot worse than that. The Defector raised his free arm towards the wall, and a bloody chain erupted from an attachment to his armor. The Grappling Hook's spike embedded itself into the ages old stone, dust and debris falling out as the Defector was pulled from his certain death. A Cacodemon met him up there, no chance of a break as it was prepared to devour him whole. It only ate the barrel of his Railgun, the slug tearing through it, another one behind it, and one of the Baron's horns on the distant platform.

He kicked himself off the wall back onto the bridge, where he was promptly blasted head on by the Marauder's own double-barreled shotgun. Thanks to his extra protection the blow wasn't as harmful as it could've been, and the Defector was quick to counterattack, firing another rail at the Marauder. This time his adversary was prepared, and he blocked the shot with his shield. The Marauder summoned his own spirit wolf, more corrupt and feral than the Defector's own, who met it in a clash that dissipated them both.

The Baron leapt toward the Defector then, its fists alight with unstable Argent ready to rend and rupture. He dashed back and away from it, cleaving a charging Spectre with his axe, and then delivered a similar coup de grace to the Baron - first a leg to bring it down to size, and then a Siphon Grenade went down its throat. Argent was ripped from the Baron's cells, fed back to receptors in the Defector's chest and glove, which healed his injuries. After draining the colossal demon, another axe swing split its head. The Marauder was right behind it with another up-close swing, and red sparks flew as they clashed Crucibles. Both quickly withdrew, the Marauder following up with a shotgun blast that the Defector blocked with his shield, summoning his wolf to charge with him. It met its mark, biting into the Marauder's wounded ankle and stunning him. Another weapon formed in the Defector's hands, ancient, arcane machinery from the realm unspoken of in name. It bore two barrels, and from them erupted armor-piercing flechettes, or 'nails' alternately at a terrifying rate. The force of the Nailgun's volley propelled the Marauder off the bridge again, this time nailing him into the wall just above the slime. Despite his fervorous strength, the Marauder could not free himself from his unfortunate position, and slowly, the slime's radiating heat would melt the demon alive until only his bones remained.

"You were correct in this being a grave," the Defector commented, before turning to join back up with his companion.

. . .

Vile bastards, Dark Samus thought, dodging back behind a stalagmite she'd been pressured into using for cover. Across the pool of blood her assailants gathered together again, mocking her with their cries. They were demons she'd learned to identify as an Archvile and a Summoner - both held in high regard among Hell's armies. She could see why...these demons fought with more tact than ferocity. And when they didn't feel like doing the fighting, they could summon those beneath them to do the heavy lifting - and could even empower them with strength and speed that made even the fodder threatening.

Partly due to the complicated origins of her conception, Dark Samus had acquired numerous variations of the Hunter's weaponry. She'd made her own improvements and techniques using the powers she'd been given, and in her eyes, many of them were superior. Even with the primary energy source having been changed, one by one her abilities were coming back to her.

Plasma Launcher - A variation on the 'Plasma' and 'Wave' beam weapons, this attack launches incredibly persistent homing balls of plasma.

Behind cover, she pointed her cannon in the air, charging it briefly before four orbs of crackling energy shot into the air. They chased after their targets relentlessly, tearing through weaker fodder without effort on their beeline towards the Summoner and Archvile. Dark Samus used the ensuing chaos to dart back into the open. While the Summoner and Archvile focused on avoiding the projectiles chasing after them, Dark Samus began clearing out the rest of the arena.

Sparkrush - a combination of Samus Aran's Screw Attack and Shinespark abilities. A semi-solid sphere of volatile energy swirls around the Dark Hunter, and she is propelled at lethal speed in a direction of her choice. She is able to change directions once before landing.

Just as she had against the Hell Knights from earlier, Dark Samus utilized this technique to barrel through a pack of Gargoyles like bowling pins, many of them dissolving into spray on contact, the others left horribly mangled from the shattering of bones and burning of flesh.

Phase Shield - A unique defensive ability. Slamming her fist into the ground, Dark Samus briefly raises a cylindrical shield around her, deflecting all attacks in a short window.

A barrage of buffed Revenant rockets was deflected away from her, shredding a Cacodemon out of the air instead. The Dark Hunter evaded gracefully as the skeletal demon lunged to punch at her, swiping violently over and over until it hit its mark.

It eventually did, as its tenacity had caught her off guard. She was sent reeling through the air, only avoiding a followup rocket barrage by using her-

Death Ball - Equivalent to the Morph Ball and Boost Ball technology. Dark Samus transforms into a sphere about a meter in diameter, and rockets forth with blazing velocity. The attack will continuously bounce off of walls and other obstructions until halted.

The Revenant's torso was knocked clean off in her path. The Summoner, having stopped to fire waves of Argent at her assailant, was finally blasted by Dark Samus' Plasma Launcher orbs. One connected and stunned the demon in place, the energy coursing through it like electricity. Another one slammed into it, further frying and softening up its target, before Dark Samus collided with the demon. The Summoner was knocked into a far wall, the collision killing it instantly.

The Archvile managed to dissipate the other shots with its own balls of fire, and then, making line of sight with Dark Samus, alit a lake of arcane fire underneath her. Within seconds it burst into a roaring column of hellfire, torching the Dark Hunter before she could react and get out of the way. She fell to the ground, splashing in the steaming pool of blood, with only her hand and knee propping her up. Such power..! She thought, a wave of flame tearing through the pool and coming right for her. It was not in her nature to flinch, yet she rose an arm to shield herself from the inevitable...she hadn't a chance to recover this entire fight, as the horde had been upon her at every step.

There was another splash in front of her, something had landed and for once, not on top of her. The Archvile's flames were deflected and dissipated against the Defector's Argent shield. This power of instilling good morale has proven to pay in spades, Dark Samus thought to herself, rising once again and facing her adversary with an ally at her side.

. . .

"I feel the need to thank you, Dark One," her Marauder said, the two of them calmly leaving the carnage-ridden battlefield they had helped create. "Perhaps I have been holding myself back...the past sucking the drive from my hand like a leech. My eyes have been opened, and I have you to credit for that. I will be your 'Defector."

"The benefits have been mutual," Dark Samus replied, eyeing the Railgun holstered in place of her companion's usual shotgun. "You've clearly been holding out on me."

"You've showcased several new abilities as well, Perhaps it'd be more accurate to say we're evolving."

"I still haven't reached the heights I perished at," she lamented. "But the power finally feels as if it's genuinely mine." She looked over at him. "That friend of yours mentioned an...Imperatix? What was he talking about? And invaders…?"

"If he spoke the truth, the worlds may be at greater risk than usual. She is one of many deities to the demons, responsible for thousands of successful invasions across a multitude of dimensions. If the Slayer hadn't intercepted and ended her previous reincarnation, the Earth-7 invasion would have been completed in days."

The two of them walked across the bridge where the Defector had held his battle. The enemy Marauder remained nailed to the wall, now lifeless as hunks of his flesh were melted by the acid pit below.

"As for the 'Invaders...' If you and the Hunter have appeared in this universe, it is safe to say others have come here as well. It could get...messy," he said, looking down. The prospect of another world and civilization becoming ravaged by Hell's allure...it was an inevitability, yes, but he had come to understand that it was still not a fate deserved.

Dark Samus growled. If anyone from her realm was poking around in Hell, it would probably be the Pirates. She could only imagine that they would no longer be on the greatest terms without her Phazon to control them. There was one in particular that even with that all-consuming substance, she'd had difficulty taming.

. . .

If...I ever break free from this wretched poison… he had said to her, following a battle that had nearly ended her plans before they could even begin. Such a colossal creature of violence and spite...he'd killed every member of the crew she had brainwashed in a matter of minutes, and had her skewered on his tail before the corruption began to take hold. If you are still alive...I will personally...shred you limb, from pathetic, weakling limb. You don't hold a candle to the real Samus Aran, and you never will. Your power isn't even yours to begin with! Nrgh…! You know...what really pisses me off, though..? he asked, twisting his bladed tail embedded in Dark Samus' abdomen. The pain was so great, so unbearable, she hadn't even the strength to vocalize it. She could feel her life fading in and out, her ultimate dream, Phaaze, in all of its beauty, seemed to drift further and further away...with only this cyborg monstrosity's words there to haunt her, taunting her into the grave. What really pisses me off...is that Samus might end up destroying you...before...I get the chance…!"

. . .

The Dark Hunter clenched her fist tightly...almost trembling at that horrid memory. Him, the remnants of the army she once commanded, Samus Aran, the Doom Slayer, and now potentially the forces of Hell itself…

"Messy...may be a gross understatement."