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Hell's Own

Mjolnir_Gaming
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Synopsis
The world has never known peace. Humans always have fought over something. That fight has been turned into a war by proxy. God's and Demons were sworn to never interfere with mankind again directly nor fight on the Earthly Plane. However, they were never sworn not to influence humans indirectly. This immission has led to Factions whispering into humanity's darkest areas of the mind and soul. Brother turns against brother as the Heavenly Host combat the forces of Hell through the use of human proxies. James has always been able to see those that lie beyond the veil of mortal sight. He watched as he grew up, the countless atrocities that humans committed. Only he ever noticed the strange people that no one else could see watching and whispering in people's ears. One day he found out exactly what was going on and has been fighting since to end the great game of the immortals. What he does not yet know is that his own past holds a dark secret. One that could devastate the balance of the game played by these beings. Or destroy humanity's chance to escape their fate.
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Chapter 1 - Chaos

A flash of light blazed across the evening sky. Followed quickly by a deafening crack, denoting an explosion of a shell hitting the buildings close by. Debris erupted from the new wound in the brick wall, filling the air with dust. A sole figure laid on the floor coughing as the cloud began to dissipate and another blast erupted from a street over.

James checked himself over and quickly sprinted for the nearest cover. The war had been raging for some time now between the Heavenly Host and Hell's Minions. Most people would never even know it was happening unless they were privy to that world. Otherwise, it was seen as just another menial war in the Middle East or another crazy person going on a mass killing spree. Neither side cared much for the casualties of war that were normal humans.

James pulled his jacket close around him and spoke softly. Calling the inner energy he could feel welling from his chest, He stretched out his arm and pointed in the direction the shell came from.

'Proxy skirmishes like this always brought more normal human casualties.' He thought as he set his trap. An old tank rolled out of the smoke. By all accounts it would have been an obsolete model in any army. The t

worn treads crushed everything underfoot until it hit the soft dirt of the trap. Dust clouds erupted from underneath the tank as it began to tip forward unnaturally for a few seconds before sliding completely into a deep sinkhole. The cannon barrel bent at angle, rendering it useless.

James hoped that the occupants would be unharmed. They weren't even his true target.

He could barely make out the soft glow of wings behind the tanks remains. They trailed low as if assessing the tanks situation before rising back to full height. Their soft glow illustrated further by white preened feathers to the back of a man standing there. His clothing was immaculate. A blue pinstripe suit adorned his lithe frame as if it were natural as wearing a silk robe. James spat at the dirt next to him and pulled out his handgun. With the shot lined up he waited but a moment. His breath slight as he exhaled and pulled the trigger.