They'd been hunting him for some time... The malicious forces of the dark. And this fact had neither scared nor diverted him. For once upon a time, there was a big - bad demon. One that bore the malignant "God Complex" as its jaws, and its 56 caliber rounds as its fangs. And all who'd asserted him thus far had fallen prey to these implements. Even now, as his splashing footsteps echoed throughout the shallow chasms of the Sherconain sewers, he had no fear, for God was with him.

"Yea though I walk... " he whispered "through the valley of the shadow of death... " the God Complex's chamber was shifted back in cocked. "I shall fear no evil." The pitch black weapons, insanely elaborate iron frame was lifted forward, and fire decisively. In one ear shattering explosion of jolting electricity and sulfur, a solemn round blasted through the darkness.

"Did you hear something?" An A.S.P. soldier stood huddled amongst several others. They'd be wading through the sewers rank waters for hours now, and nothing had been found. It seemed as if the beast had escaped them once more.

"Heard what?" Asked another.

"sounded like a gun sh... " The intuitive soldier was pounded with a colossal impact, as the solitary 56 caliber round jostled into him. He was hurtled, screaming , some twenty feet into the darkness, his wayward shrill ending the moment he struck the flooring.

"What the hell was that?" The remaining soldiers shrieked nearly simultaneously. The first reached for the radio at his side, while the other three hid behind the sewers protruding walls. Just as they stationed themselves the God Complexes' blast finally fissured through the air waves.

"Are you telling me the bullet reaches us before the sound does?" One of the hidden soldiers cried in panic.

"That's one hell of a firearm!" A second added franticly. The two A.S.P gazed blankly down the path in which the shot had been fired, but found nothing. Even with the world around them hazed with the brazen reds of their Night-to-thermal optics, the perpetrator was to far away to be seen.

With out a seconds indication, the soldier who was foolishly barking coordinates into his radio in the open was struck with oppressive force, and suffered the same fate as his comrade.

The remaining officers stared at the dead body for a few seconds before bombarding each other with curses.

"What the hell are we gonna do? This isn't any of our damn business anyway!"

"We don't even know what were up against!"

"So what!" The groups leader hissed through his concealing respirator," If you wanna go back and face Ashack then be my guest!... You should've left your bitch'in back at the academy!"

There was obstinate silence.

The commander, in a flurry of hand signals, directed the group to fire at will in three second time. The interval passed with all the speed of flowing molasses, but when it transpired, they turned haste fully, though none fired, all stared. For the demon was upon them.

Only its glaring eyes shown through the shadows. Its red irises' flaring like crimson stars of the midnights' sky. The squadron lifted their rifles, but the abstract confusion consuming them, stiffened their fingers. None dared to provoke the beast, so none were stupid enough to switch on their shoulder lights.

Back up had arrived. The squadron of sixteen approached the incognito with the greatest of caution. From the passage to the right of the monster, they crept steadily, their steps carefully calculated. From some reason the A. S. P.'s visors could not clarify the subjects figure, and this fact only added to the weariness of the already trepidated company.

The figure's eyes rolled slowly across the unit, taking time to acknowledge each and every member before pausing on the insurgent's commander. He, however, stood in acknowledgment, clipping his high powered rifled to his side, and presenting himself as to bear no harm.

"What are you?" he asked, with imperfectly concealed anxiety. Instead of a horrifyingly low bellow, or a sinister snarl of sorts, the demon responded in a soothing tenor.

"I am not a what, I am a who... Shayackquious."

"Shaeakquyious?" the commander pronounced incorrectly.

"Shay-ack-kwee-us... it's my last name."

"Well then, what's your first na... ?!"

"Who gives a damn!?" a petty officer exploded wielding his rifle menacingly. "That thing just offed Gai and Eyre! What, are we supposed to just stand here and wait to get sh... !"

"No one's shooting anyone!"

"Sez you!" The irate officer whipped back the trigger of his H.p assault rifle, and stared mesmerized as its high octane rounds began turrenting out of his weapon. The entire squadron, with the exception of the captain, engaged in this calloused assault, the empty shells of their munition shrouding the floor beneath them.

The beast still had no fear. And after shutting its luminescent eyes, it became one with the shadows. Without the clarification of their visors, their grunts fired relentlessly into nothingness, the bright flashes of their weapons painting their full metal exoskeletons in a pure white hue.

"Hold your fire! Hold your fire!" The commander ordered. The fiend stopped, turned, and faced their leader in prevalent aggravation. Even so, he continued unfettered.

"I thought I told you not to fire!"

"I thought I told you to shut up!" An iron tethered fist wailed into the unarmed underbelly of the groups' captain, stripping his breath away. He fell pain stakingly into the stagnant water surrounded him, his bitter anguish heard through the thinness of his fleeting breath.

The assaulter stood with his arms crossed in confidence. "You think you know what's best for this company?" He snarled. "I been in charge of this unit for three years. And now you think just because your father stationed you here you've already got the run of things?... Huh Captain Sirrea?"

"You think you have what it takes?" Sirrea coughed. "My father didn't put me in charge of this squadron b-because of my connections. But... because of your inability."

The lieutenant stripped a handgun from the holster at his side, and pressed his chamber firmly against the temple of Sirrea's helmet. "Congratulations Mr. Sirrea," he announced. "You just died in the heat of battle."

Sirrea's muscles tensed, ready for his fast approaching demise. Before the slides of his life could even flash before his eyes, the trigger had been tightly squeezed.

The click of the gun's empty chamber echoed throughout the dark abyss, as its wielder huffed in frustration. The lieutenant signaled for another clip, and one of his subordinates was happy to oblige. He expertly stocked the magazine and was ready to fire in a second's time.

"My father's going to put you six feet under when he finds out about this."

"Shut up Bitch!" The handgun's trigger was pulled with excessive force,... though the result was the same. In a heat of rage, the lieutenant pulled back the firearm and prepared to toss it carelessly. In doing so, he felt the lightness of the weapon, and examined it discreetly. There was no magazine. And thinking on the present situation... he realized that there was no clip in the gun during the first attempt. 'Must be a faulty shaft.' he thought.

"Lieutenant you gonna shoot him or what?" A hoarder shouted in frustration.

"Shut the fuck up!" The lieutenant angrily snatched a back up arm from his hip,... did the deed with no pronouncements.

Two pulsating splashes to his far right caught his attention, and he turned to face the disturbance, just as he fired the handgun. The massive impact struck Sirrea with maniacal fore, the elevating blast sending him flying backwards. The world around Sirrea seemed to slow down. Though even through this, and the river of blood cascading down his face, he was still able to see. See the shocked gestures of the A.S.P as they realized that the empty magazines were what made the splash to the far right. And see the eyes of the demon open once more.

The vile lieutenant could feel the scalding chamber of a gun rest against the side of his helmet, but before he could react... his head was stripped cleanly from atop his shoulders with a force beyond all imagination.

With all the unseen passion and style of a ball room dancer, Shayacquious gunned down all who had fired upon him. And with each round that rocketed from the chamber of his sacred weapon, and split the barrier of light and sound, Sirrea could see more and more of the monsters figure. The electrical storm that erupted from the God Complex's chamber , brought with it a ray of clarifying light. And to his amazement, the demon was not a demon... but as he, a young boy.

By the time Sirrea's body had struck the floor all of his treacherous comrades had been reduced to lifeless husks. Sirrea using all the strength his body could muster switched on the light at his shoulder... and there he was.

His eyes were like fire, though his face bore an angelic serenity , and beauty. He did not look down on Sirrea, rather his eyes stared down from a higher plane. His face exhibited a melancholy expression, though bore not a trace of ill intent.

"W--Wha... " Sirrea's words could not be understood, but he needn't speak a word.

"S-h-h-h-h" Shayacquious whispered. "That looks painful, shall I... ? The God Complex's shaft was pressed gently against the young captain's helmet.

Sirrea's face burst into an explosion of panic, he did not want to die. He prayed that his words could be heard through the full body armor that veiled his face, but they were not, for he could no longer speak. Shayacquious' eyes seemed to penetrate his very soul and in doing so, Sirrea had no fear of him. If he were to die by any hand, he'd wish it to by that of the man before him.

Shayacquious forced the gun into Sirrea's chest... and then , it was all over.

"My name is Milyardo... Milyardo L. Shayacquious. "Peace be with you."

And with that... he was gone. Sirrea laid there, a severe bullet wound to the head. But, Sirrea laid there... with the distress emblem on his chest pressed, and resonating... pressed by the demon... "The demon of Pairadine"

Chapter 3