If you were given a chance by the gods to take revenge. What would you give to do so? I should tell you how we got here...but before that, let's start at the very beginning...no not this beginning...the REAL beginning.
I once lived on a world called earth, the year at this time was 2030. I was in my thirties by this time, when the first gate to hell opened. No not like the biblical hell where souls go to be tortured, or even the cartoon hell of tv shows, but the sort of hell that houses trillions and trillions of demons, with only one goal...the total annihilation of all of creation...the day the first gate opened more than a million casualties, and the loss of an entire city and more happened. It happened so fast the neither the police forces nor the military were able to respond in time. With this marked the first day of war. I was an average guy back then, a construction worker. Thankfully our city wasn't the first one struck. This was the only portal for a few weeks, and we had stabilized the situation...or so we thought...two portals on two different continents opened up, thankfully we were ready to respond, by we...I mean the combined human forces of the world. With portals opening up at random in random places, it spread the forces thin. Eventually we pulled in every able bodied...and eventually the women, the children, the elderly, even the sickly were put on the line. It might sound cruel, but by this point we were desperate, we had been fighting for years on multiple fronts, all across the world, wherever the demons conquered, the land was tarnished, irretrievable. We had lost more than 50% of all claimed territory within 6 years. We held on for another 2 when our munitions ran out, our bomb supply ran dry, and our remaining hot weapons depleted. We were forced to use cold weapons... Yea we went medieval on those demons, but this is where the casualties started climbing almost monthly we lost 1% of our remaining forces. This may seem like a small amount in the grand scheme of things, but we were losing ground here, ground we didn't have to spare, some places ended up starving out. Those zones cost us a lot, both in morale, and in fronts, by the end of the decade, we were force to 30% of our total held territory globally, and less than that in troop count. Though i was average for construction and normal life, here in this war I earned a well known nickname, the cockroach king, because I was too stubborn to die, to angry to rest, and too tenacious for the small fry demons. I usually got tasked with cutting down HVT's (high value targets) like demon captains, or these demons that had some sort of bio mortar in their flesh.but even I wasn't enough to turn the tide, only buy us time. By july of the 11th year of the hell war, humanity had crumbled, less than 1% of remaining humans remained, in fact the last troops of my bunker was either eating their last bullet, or strapping any remaining explosives, some even just diving in with a few hand grenades or pipe bombs. Suicide attacks, I wasn't one of them, I figured if I am going to die. Then let me carve my name into hell. When no one else was left in the base, I picked up my sword for my last fight. I lasted a whopping six hours, murdering my way through the seemingly endless hordes of smallfry demons, my goal, one of the commanders, or maybe a general, something we could never get a visual on but could tell was in play, despite the small seeming quite dull and disorganized, they always moved as if someone was strategically against us. I wanted to make them remember Us, if not for our strength, then our mettle or by our tenacious nature. Anyway back to the story. I carved a path deep in demon territory, working my way to one of the gates of hell, like fissures in both space and time made of azure flames, anyone who managed to cross, never came back and any drones were disabled going through the portal, so no one knew what the otherwise was like. But I was hell bound to find out. Crossing over it was a massive spiraling stone chasm, much like a rock mine, but it never seemed to end, miles and miles straight down, every inch of the spiraling path filled with more and more demons...There!...I finally got to see a commander of the demons or at least I had assumed the massive demon, standing just a short distance from the portals, yes portals, all those portals outside lead right here, which explains the never ending stream of demons. By now, I was beyond exhausted, the only thing keeping standing was the rage, that for so long in normal life, I had stored away, kept hidden. Now its the only thing left, I had given up living through this, had watched everything I loved fall, all that was left was my final message to that big bastard... With muscles twitching and trembling from being pushed far beyond any fight previously, and sweat drenching me, sickening my grip on my blade, I fought on, forcing demons to make a path as I fought. Even as I felt my body faltering I didn't give in...not yet, i kept repeating it to myself. Not yet...not yet...eventually I got close enough to for my final act, and I took great pleasure in it, despite my wounds, despite my dying body, this...this was a euphoric feeling, though the bastard towered more than 10 feet in the air, it wasn't to far, not for a good stabbing, my favored blade then was a pointed longsword, just over 6 pounds of steel and leather, I launched, Yea launched...like a spear, and it was beautiful. The glint off the steel, the arc it drew in the air, the look on that demons face, gods it was a beautiful last visage. I got him good, impaled his eye to the hilt, I don't know if it was a killing blow but, it didn't matter, if he lived, he would remember me for the rest of its days. And that was it, my heart stopped, pushed to its limit, my limbs gave, sagging as i lost my strength, the world grew dark, and I thought i was truly dead...for awhile it was quiet...peaceful even. I thought i was dead and gone, with all that hate, I didn't think I deserved the biblical heaven, maybe vanilla, since that was my religious 'heaven'. But I didn't feel taking all that hate and rage there was a good thing, So i would accept eternal darkness, or at least, I thought I would when a voice, as cold as ice, but filled with such sadness as it speak to him, feminine in a way, though how I could tell I wouldn't know. "Would you really accept darkness over vengeance? Peace over war?" As if stirred up, I could feel my soul shaking off the quiet as all that rage flashed through me, no mortal shell to contain it, like a ferocious beast released from its cage. As if answering in my stead. "It seems you are not yet done with them, if given another chance to fight them, what would you give? What would you do to have this...one....chance" another voice,though distinctly males, filled with an endless tiredness, spoken slowly, into this perpetual darkness. "Why even ask? His answer is clear. Truly a warrior even in death." And as if responding to this claim, the rage in him burns like no pain he had ever felt in his life, like his soul is ablaze. Slowly, as if its true, an inkling of light forms around him, though blue in color, and flickering, all he can see, is small parts of him, or what remained, the rest is nothing but fire, his endless rage, made manifest, though how the two haven't extinguished each, he doesn't know, despite the pain, his mind is clear on what he wants, to pay those demons back a hundred fold."even in death, with a soul as tattered as his, his fury still ignites, truly he has earned his place in our halls, must we send him to his death once more? Let the poor soul rest." A frail, feminine voice spoke, filled with sadness and what he can only describe as a bleeding heart. But he cant have her stop him, despite the pain, and confusion, he roars out, only one word, a declaration of war. NooooOoooOoooo!" With this, the gods who had salvaged his soul. Picked him from his dying world, the last of human resistance of earth, have their answer, a warrior does what a warrior is born to do...fight, and it seems he hasn't yet had his fill of it. A masculine voice, speaks out, making this dark place tremble, and the others to grow silent, but even this doesn't phase the nearly burned up soul. "So be it, but who will give so much divinity in order to restore this warrior's soul?" At first, nothing is said, nothing happens, but then, a tiny light blinks into existence not far from the souls, sharing a similar light to the azure flames, but much darker and richer, like a midnight purple set ablaze, drifts over, to slowly fuse with his soul, the sensation soothing, relaxing him, despite having no body, though though place it is fusing is the place of his right eye socket and right ear, that bit of his head, missing and filled with flames,now transitioning, and becoming whole. With this another light appears,golden in color, though the power within is like sunlight, basking in warmth, this takes the place of his left shoulder, creating a similar visage as it rebuilds that piece of his soul, glowing in golden light,looking much like a stitched together doll. Though he can't complain, each piece easing the pain of the azure flames on his soul, creating a new vessel to contain them. Then another, this one a rich pink, reminiscent of hot pink, or eye catching lip gloss, this fills in the hole in his chest where the heart once thrived, fusing and sealing the azure flames. With each small piece, a donation of divinity from a different god, one that supports his cause. After these three, no one follows for some time, when a voice speaks, though it is filled with the tears of mothers who have sent their sons to war. "I will give you this piece, but with the promise, you will find you're way." A soft red, warming and comforting even before it fills his side in, about where his stomach would be, and as if fuses, the pain eases further, allowing the warrior a sigh of relief in the void from his fury, for the moment. But, he doesn't waste time replying. "I will find my way, there are people I wish to see again." He replies, his vessel growing stronger, but strangely not forming like hisnsoul, keeping the gods matching colors, simply filling in his vessel. Then another light forms, silver in color, flickering to and fro as quick as lightning before to fills in for both of his feet. When a voice associated to this fragment speaks. "Take this, and show me what you can do with my divinity warrior." Another god, surprised by this ones including, decides not to pass on this either flicks a hand, sinding an orb of divinity, rich green in color, to fuse with the lower half of the souls right arm, forming its lower arm and hand. The soul previously beyond ravaged by the fires of rage, now nearly complete, though holding the divinity of half a dozen gods, but not quite whole yet. For a time, this dark realm falls silent, time passes as the soul floats in tendim, how long? He doesn't know, nor felt any of it, simply basking in the relief of the pain in his soul. Finally, an orb, much larger than the others, dark, with hardly a flickering light, forms, the bits of light like crackling lighting, though its more purple when it does then blue or white like most lightning on earth, it fuses into the souls back, taking up the space of his back bone. Though this being doesn't say anything, He could feel something caress his face, the part that was his from the start, before this sensation disappeared, and it was so comforting and loving he almost begged for it to return. And, after all these pieces fused with him, as if they had nothing else to do for him, his mind grows hazy, before the sensation of being jerked to somewhere rapidly. Fills him.