Prologue Part 4

Hellsinguard Highway no. 3

Planet Mortera

11:47 pm



Nero tapped his Crimson finger upon the steering wheel of his vehicle. His vehicle was a Neon XS model, roughly a two-seater. A rather long, secular car, built for speed. Twin jets underneath the exhaust panel, spiked bumpers, chained headlights, and a slick exterior were modifications made by Nero himself. Ever since around five years ago, Nero had become a car nut, salvaging parts at huge various junkyards to build himself a ride of his own out of the rather older, former model. He took a moment to look at the radio, and shut it off, laying back a bit comfortably amongst the tan leather seats, eyeing the white dashboard and his glowing speedometer. It said 0 mph. The traffic signal was taking forever.

Hellsinguard had multi-vehicular supportive, eight by eight lane highways, built numerous stories above the ground, for just the purpose to build on the ground. It was the only way to accumulate the massive population of the Capital of the Demon people. The massive freeway was at least a football field in width, and was nearly unimaginable in distance. It could be seen from space. The highway was very famous, and even had it’s own tourist hotspot, around an area called the four leaf clover. It was when all four numbers of the highway intwined within each other, making a four leaf clover, as the locals would say.

It was a rather festive sight, but Nero had been raised here. Upon seeing such things at that for seventeen full years, he had already grown tired of the thing by the age of three. He didn’t like the highway, he preferred the long, straight roads of the infinite outskirts surrounding Hellsinguard like a spiritual orb, just before the borderline of the barrier, protecting the city from an even an orbital bombardment. Those were when the drag races took place. Not a festivity though, as it was illegal as hell, but it gave a chance for Nero to make some money. His plan for maturity was to start his own business, and to make a crop load of crop so he wouldn’t ‘starve for a thousand winters’. Then he would think about starting his own family, but he wasn’t exactly feeling all high and mighty.

Right then, the only feeling that was in his gut was for the light to move. Eight traffic looks took up a lot of power, and sometimes the amount of electricity would overload the transformer, which would cause the power to surge and go out.

Within another minute, it happened. One spark was all that told Nero that the signals were dead … again.

“Awww son of a bitch!” Nero protested, beating his palms on the steering wheel simultaneously in anger, shifting his back against the seat and in verbally slamming the back of his head against the back of the seat.   He adjusted his black beanie hat, fire and flames woven in, not to mention it made him look less of a fox, more of a hedgehog. Hybrids were persecuted often, so most tried to make themselves look as much as one species as possible. Nero had even contemplated cutting his tail in half and surgically sewing the open end shut.

At the moment, he would cut it off if only the damn traffic light would be fixed. Already, the seemingly hundreds of cars around him begin shouting from their windows, honking their horns and venting their rage, and perhaps liquid beverages, at the lights, which if they could see or feel, would do either, because they were broken. Nero could already see the government-run repair truck, with it’s yellow sirens flashing, adding to the infinite amount of colors on the highway, encircling it in a hue of rainbow colors. It might look peaceful from a long distance, but at Nero’s standpoint, it was pandemonium. The public (Which Nero had no idea why there were so many people out on the highway at this hour) shifted from venting their rage at the traffic signals, to actually finding the people to blame. The government repairmen. As the truck began easing it’s way through traffic, it got pelted with such things as doughnuts, coffee, a few sandwiches, even a plushy doll. “Amazing how us demons are so proud… “ Nero recalled to himself. “And yet so stupid.” He sighed in a sulking way, slowly banging his head on the steering wheel over and over until the pager/walkie talkie beeped in his loose black trousers. He took his seatbelt off, knowing he wouldn’t move for centuries, and reached underneath his white t-shirt to pull it out of his pocket, answering the device by saying “Nero.”

“Hello Nero.” Came Aiden’s voice from the other end, his holographic face appearing on the new holo-installer Nero pasted onto his rearview mirror. He appeared to be inside of a helicopter. He was wearing a slick, black jumpsuit, with glowing blue colors on it, flashing on and off.

“Aiden, my man.” Nero acknowledge, looking at the rearview mirror. At the same time, he could see a bit of his reflection, and shifted his face a bit… he would have to trim his whiskers again, to the point where his scalp bled.

Hybrids were persecuted often.

Aiden nodded, virtually telling Nero that their connection was established. “We have some new information, surprisingly it didn’t come from us.”

“What’s it?” Nero asked, shifting his focus away from his reflection, and onto Aiden’s face.

“Well… “Aiden sighed a bit and stroked his fingers on his chin. “Judging by where you positioned yourself, the supply truck along with the next shift’s security guard should… be coming down that very highway right now. It’s time for the new shift, and this is the normal path that Zinc usually takes on the way to their corporate building.” Aiden appeared to be looking out of the helicopter. “He’s a few lanes behind you.”

Nero blinked at his words, and shifted in his seat, placing an arm over the front seat to shift himself more, giving him leverage. He realized that a helicopter was hovering at a very high altitude above him, and he also realized that a few lanes back indeed was a supply truck. It was a rather large big rig, with the truck itself painted green (the color of an emerald) and the supply trailer colored in a plain white. It also had a load of tags on it, the typical ‘how’s my driving’ and the typical idiotic lowlife drawing suggestive things on the back of it. Nero blinked a few more times to make sure what he saw was true. He looked up in the driver’s seat, and saw the security guard, a tan, muscular wolf, with a natural black spot over his left eye. A typical security guard, Nero presumed, as the wolf was also pissed off at the government truck, having already thrown his coffee as the thing, and now angrily beating his horn like it owed him money. Nero had, however, concentrated so much on viewing the guard, he inadvertently ignored the fact that the intersection had already turned into a full scale riot, after a few motorists got into a skirmish for deciding which section on the four way interaction would go first. The government truck honked it’s horn at the fighting men and women on the streets. Nero was partially thankful that the huge barrier protecting the city limited a demon’s power to almost nothing, but they were still beating the hell out of each other, and it only caused the younger, more reckless demons to jump out of their car to try to break it up, only to get caught up in it. Aiden’s face carried the expression of light shock. “Uh-oh… “

“Got to go Aide.” Nero quickly said, shutting the hologram off as someone knocked on his window with a quite large amount of force. As soon as Nero noticed that the person standing outside of the door was a random young squirrel dressed up in loose apparel, he had enough. No one even thought of touching his car. He kicked the door open forcefully and caused him to step back. As he walked out of the car, they both exchanged very vulgar swear words at each other, until Nero got shoved back into his own car by the other demon, a bit younger then him. His demonic hormones got the best of him, and Nero swung, and felt the numbing pain right back at him in the eye, as they both exchanged facial and body blows until Nero found himself on the floor, reaching out and clenching his teeth as he grabbed the opposing kid’s shoe, pulling him on the floor and getting up on top of him, feeling his cold knuckles crack against his head until he was out cold. His face was shoved into the pavement by two other people that were behind him, before they started swinging at each other. Nero couldn’t sniff and found that the kid had busted his nasal cavity, causing him to bleed horrendously from the nose. He stood up just in time for the guard to see him, and, knowing his affiliation, panicked, and stepped on the gas, pushing the cars ahead of him and, being on the lane right next to Nero’s, almost running him over as the huge engine blew him back against the car once more, causing some pain to shoot up his spine as his adrenaline kicked in, watching the massive truck bulldoze through the other cars, swerving left and right  to avoid the fighting people, and speeding onward in the trafficless lanes beyond the signal light as Nero recovered from the wind caused by the powerful engine.

“Oh shit! Well there goes the god damn stealth!” Nero nearly tore the door off as he bolted into his vehicle, not bothering with the seatbelt and closing the door as his body lit up on adrenaline as he put his driving skills to the test, shifting the stick shift and slamming on the clutch and the gas, the tired on his car spinning and reeling as the motor roared and propelling him forward, swerving into the emergency lane before turning back out onto the empty highway, shifting gear after gear as the speedometer went over 100mph. He found the truck on the horizon, the streetlights becoming blurs as he increased the speed, opening the window while he was at it, and catching a glimpse of the back of the truck as his car slowly caught up with the truck, the truck not being suited up like Nero’s car was.

As soon as the guard noticed, he stepped on the gas harder, and the two vehicles careened down the empty highway at breakneck speeds. Nero had to do this quickly, and think on his feet, what would Mark do? His mind went racing as he looked ahead, then back at the truck, as he saw the security guard whip out his sidearm, a FF-55 45. cal pistol, and pointed it at Nero’s car. “Well now I know he’s hiding something!” Nero exclaimed as he heard the pops from the gun and the flash of the barrel, swerving a bit as he tried to avoid the shots, holes popping in his windshield and ripping apart his passenger seat. Nero had to set his extreme feelings of anger aside for the destruction of his car. He had to get his job done. The feeling the that government might pay for his repairs cheered him up as he wondered why he was even thinking about all this when he was getting shot at.

Nero grabbed his demon saber, the ebon hilt feeling warm in his hands as he pulled it out of the glove compartment. He knew he would need it. His instincts told him so. He shifted his body into a state of absolute focus, as everything seemed to slow down around him. He let out a single breath as he twisted the clutch to the right with his foot, causing the gearshift to open, revealing a red button. Nero typed in an autopilot command and tracked it to the truck, and as the guard was reloading, he sprang into action, pushing the button, causing his car door to spring out of the car, causing immense sparks to fly out of the steel as it met the pavement at speeds over 150mph. Nero used what little power he was restricted to, to grab onto the top of the supply trailer with his free hand, letting out a panicked whail as the truck turned a bit to the right, the trailer hanging off a bit to the left, causing his body to life up horizontally by force. Nero strained and pressed his feet onto the middle of the trailer, using his upper body strength to climb himself stomach first onto the trailer. The speed the big rig was careening down the highway was immense, and Nero looked behind himself to make sure that the car was still behind the truck. It was, following the truck without a driver, being programmed by the computer imbedded in the dashboard to follow. Nero wheezed as he pulled, foot by foot, closer to the truck part, his comfortable beanie hat flying off of his head and floating into the abyss, exposing the foxen parts of his head. He managed to pull himself all the way up to the truck part, looking down to see pavement and the heavy metal connector that connected the trailer to the truck. Nero was about to reach down when the guard looked in his rear view mirror and saw him, swerving just a bit to cause the trailer to move. “Graaaa!” Nero yelled in protest, being dragged across the truck, but managed to grab the end of it as his body once again flew off the trailer, all of his blood being forces to his feet as he strained to hold on. He took the ebon saber in his mouth as he found the window, using his upper body strength to lift his legs, kicking at the window until the guard broke it himself, with the barrel of his gun, tilting it moderately at Nero and pulling the trigger. Nero muffled a scream, the saber still in his mouth as he heard the round whiz past his legs, trying to kick at it until finally doing so, the gun, along with his beanie hat, falling onto the road. He placed his feet over the bottom of the window, and used his other hand to grab the top of the window, forcing himself inside.

The minute he sat down in the passenger seat, his plan was to pull the saber out of his mouth, and subdue the guard with it. His plan went to hell when the guard proceeded to punch him straight in the mouth,  causing the hilt to drop down onto the floor. Nero shrugged it off and punched him back with a fist to the jaw, causing him to swerve the truck, but Nero used his hands to steady the wheel, the minor distraction making him open, so the guard pulled out his nightstick, and smacked Nero in the stomach with it. Nero gorged in pain, but somehow, managed to ignore the pain long enough to grab his hand as it was coming down with the stick on his head. Nero pushed back on the arm while the guard tried to steer, and ended up with Nero’s back on the guards knees, still clutching the stick. Nero then shot his leg upward and punted the guard in the side of the head, causing him to yelp in pain and swerve the truck some more, until it hit the guardrail of the lane, the severe jolt propelling Nero out of the window. Nero barely managed to react, but he did, grabbing the window as he shot out of it, his feet resting on the door. The guard tried to open the door, but at that speed, it was impossible. Nero pulled himself back in as the guard tried to kick him with his spare foot. Nero had to end it. This was going too far. He took the hilt of the saber, lit the crimson blade up (causing the blade to shoot through the outside of the truck) and swiped at the man’s foot, cutting it clean off. Because of the demon saber being made out of superheated light, the sever was clean, and no blood was spilled. The guard that had been driving screamed out in agony, no longer able to drive and letting go of the pedal, slowing the truck down as Nero slashed the seatbelt, using the loose belt to choke the individual, as he got up and personal in his face, keeping the hilt away from him as he tightened the cord as hard as he could, suffocating the wolf as he had a chance to look into his eyes..

“Angel…” Nero murmured, noticing the unique sparkle in his eyes that demons, although jealous of, did not possess. The guard formed a slow smile, as if finding it amusing. “Hy…brid… w-..e…just… d- ing…jobs..“ He said in a whining, choking voice before his larynx collapsed, killing him instantly. Nero backed his back up against the truck as it slowly began to slow down.. the hood of his car pushing itself up to the supply truck, impacting it and causing one final jolt before Nero stumbled out of the truck and onto the road, wobbling weakly, before feeling that familiar feeling in his stomach, laying down on his knees and proceeding to throw up.

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1 Hour later.

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Armistes tapped his fingers impatiently as he waited for his assistant, Gregory, the 126 year old black and brown raccoon with a jittering disorder, messy brown hair,  a pair of strong scientific glasses, and a strong scientific mind, examined the scene. The truck was in battered shape, but still operational. He had personally contacted the demonic council to absolutely not allow the press, media, or anyone else for that matter to find out about the truck, only to acknowledge them that there had been a riot at the intersection Nero  was stuck in before the chase, and that the people being chased were ‘taken care of.’ The tall, menacing Echidna of Arch Demon status and Council Courier, stopped tapping his fingers when the spasmodic Gregory finally managed to open the back of the trailer. Armistes slowly approached the back…to find a wad of paper sticking to his face. He slowly took the paper off of his head and began to read it..

“This is in the angel language.” Armistes confirmed, grabbing at a couple of more pages and examining them. They were all hand written, with black runes. The writing was very sloppy, leading Armestis to expect that slaves wrote this, due to long working hours, their handwriting became tiresome and sloppy. But that didn’t make much sense to him…

“W-what’s the matter sir?” Gregory said in a voice of a late teen on a lot of caffeine but still in control of himself. Adjusting his glasses and waiting for an answer.

“.. I’m suspecting.” Armestis took a moment to confirm to himself, then climbing up into the truck. “I’m suspecting that… this handwriting is very sloppy, and judging by the quantity of … these papers, I … can only assume that the Angels …enslaved their own people..”

“Why in the blue heck would they do that?” Gregory asked him, somehow always finding a reason to fumble with his glasses, one of his bad habits.

“… I have no idea.”

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Secretive Angel Slave Ranch

Secret Bottom Floor of the Zinc Headquarters Office Building

12:42 am

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“I-I can’t!” He yelled at the top of his voice. “I can’t write anymore!” The eight year old squealed at the guard, standing right behind him, with metallic clothing, a visor to hide his face, and a spiked whip in hand.  The unfortunate young badger with sparkling blue eyes, and a sage blue fur color, with prickly, slightly long hair and a cute face, in dirty brown slave clothes, was placed here almost a year ago after the capture and inslavery of his parents. The reason why? His father worked for the second life of Zinc Corporation. He had grown a heart for demonkind, and he was found out. So they tortured him, enslaved him, and then, for amusement, enslaved both his wife, and his precious son..

The kid’s name was Jimmy Esarrian. Now his name was #466054. He was moderately crying, half in anger, half in pain, the tendons on his writing fingers twitching like crazy, burning as if it was on fire if he tried it again. As far as he knew, the guards had taught them vigorously at gunpoint to learn the Angellic language, and then they had to copy what was told of them to copy, only knowing the symbols, and not knowing what it meant. All of the other children kept their sobbing to themselves, and swallowed it down in submission in order not to get in trouble too. The guard was heartless, the halo on his head broken and scattered, compared to Jimmy’s full halo. A fallen angel. “I swear to God, kid, write or I’m gonna write myself, on your back with this whip!”

It only made the young boy cry harder, as he lifted his head up to the sky in tears. “I can’t write anymore! I CAN’T! I CA-“ He screeched in a painful yelp as he was whipping down onto the floor, crying and wailing at the guards whipping as he flailed to move to that he wouldn’t hit his previous scars. The guard gave up on whipping, and instead proceeded to kick his ribs, knocking his breath out and making him unable to cry, his lips twitching at the speed of which he was unable to control as he laid in a corner, a bloody mess.

His weeping faded off into the background as the guard turned around and stood attention as a courier passed him by. The courier, a black panther with a very proper gentlemen’s haircut and a slick, fancy coat, with a single eyepiece covering his right eye and a broken halo above his head, nodded to him, and then examined the children. ‘’Hmph… inferior spawns..” He said with disgust, possessing a proper upper class accent. proceeded outside of the room.

Fifty floors later, and the courier arrived at the office of the CEO of Zinc Headquarters. The room was grandly spacious, and the floor was decorated with angelic patterns and runes, and surprisingly, demon ones as well. They were both intertwined in some sort of disturbing fusion with one another. A desk made out of sterling silver with a long leather chair awaited him, as well as the CEO of Zinc headquarters. His cold, silvery eyes was as ice cold as the desk itself…along with his fur.. as his delicate, surprisingly skinny wolven body stood still, writing a parchment for expansion of his diamond company… as soon as his eyes lifted to see the courier, the glare in his eyes knew that the man was here for the second life of Zinc Headquarters.

“You may speak, Kavian.” The CEO slowly spoke, with a surprisingly lighthearted, but stern voice.

“Sir… “Kavian started off, brushing aside his hair arrogantly, his words booming with a gentleman accent. “The ... return mail for our allies… didn’t… return.”

The CEO stared at him straight in the eye, but did not flinch. “What… happened.”

“Sir… we believe that… the so called assailant driving the vehicle… had an accident.”

“….” The CEO went back to writing his parchment. “No matter… demons cannot read the angel language anyway… but just in case… I will keep a close eye… but really, I do not need that anymore… it’s only confirmation.. and I did it to prevent hate mail.”

“Sir, is Hellsinguard falling so soon?” Kavian asked him, adjusting his shirt collar nervously.

“… You will see.” Zyreal replied, tapping the white emerald replica beside him. “You are dismissed.”

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END OF PART 4.