Double or Nothing: One in a Million

So THAT Could be a Problem

"Wow," Shrap gasped, his shoulders sagging at his sides. "Didn't realize you were so educated on the whereabouts of Hell's ancient creatures." Everybody was facing the ironclad, tightly armored flame warrior Avery, whose hatchets hung by his sides on the floor with their chains clanking against his unusually silver armor. "What?" He replied, shrugging off the compliment. "I've always been well versed with Wrath's history. Zaze here taught me everything there is to know," he commented, jerking a black gloved thumb toward his boss.

The Lord of Wrath scoffed, embers flaking from an abrupt cough while his fiery muscles wrapped over one another in a cross. "You said that 'thing' is a Flamecrest? Jesus. I've never seen one m'self, personally." Cynthia turned in shock, her eyes wide with fear as another loud, bone scraping shriek tore across the sky. "You mean you don't know how to kill that thing?!" Azazel coughed again, pointing a white hot finger at the scientist. "Don't push my temper while it's wounded, Doc. I'm a tricky bomb to defuse."

The Sin Hunter stepped forward, pointing to a watchtower at the Southeastern corner of the fortress. "Can we get a good look at the thing from there?" Avery swept his blood red battle ax over his back with jangling chains and a shaking head. "Why get a vantage point when the thing'll pass right over you, eh?" Jack turned to face Avery, then tilted his head back and watched as the most mortifying nightmare filled the space above the blackstone fortress. Everything grew dark with shadows and bright with glowing plasma as the ancient dinosaur filled the sky.

Whispers of the shrieking souls trapped upon its bones entranced the void while large, glistening strands of flowing orange plasma shook against a thin, bone white skeletal structure. Burning fire and deep black steel coated whatever the lava could not, forming a sort of thick hide on the beast as the last of the Flamecrested Harbingers floated above, letting forth another loud roar that shook the walls and sent guards and wardens flying to their backs and stomachs on the ground. "How can something so terrifying be so beautiful?" Avery whispered.

Shrap rushed toward Jack and Azazel, seizing both men by their shoulders. "We can stop that thing, right?" He asked with trembling limbs. Jack turned, planting his glove on his partner's hand. "We could get up there, Shrap. But we need you to lift us up to that level." The salesman nodded, patting his friend's shoulders with a smile. Upon further realization of the statement, however, the sorrowful side of his mask quickly transformed into shock. "WHAT?!" He screeched, loud enough to send everyone staggering a distance away.

Jack in particular, who had been standing closest to the four armed Sinner, was swept back while clutching his ears and gritting his teeth. While the Salesman sinner tried to calm himself down, breathing rapidly in and out, Crow made his way over with Cynthia and Avery, gesturing to the two security guards he had instructed on the matter. "You two," he ordered, a worn and blistered finger pointing in the direction of the roly poly bugs. Both guards stood to attention, rifles raised in salute as the Plague Infector rolled his sleeves to his elbows, stepping over.

"You work for Avery and Cynthia now. They're your superiors. Your job is to get up there," Crow pointed with his left hand to the watchtower toward the top of the black tower, "load those bolt rifles on your packs and fire at the beast's eyes when we give the command, do I make myself clear?" The guards, to Avery's contented surprise, raised their rifles and saluted, awaiting further instruction. Crow dusted off his gloves, turning back to face Avery with a pat on the chest. "They'll listen to you now. Take Cynthia and go find anything that can help us with this thing."

Cynthia stepped forward, putting her hands on Crow's shoulders and shaking with generous ferocity. "Crow, should we not forget the teensy little fact that you have a literal shapeshifter on your team? Let me go up there instead of Shrap. He'll burn to a crisp up there!" Crow stopped shaking, seizing Cynthia's arms to stop. Planting his feet, the Plague Infector's beak shook up and down, and his studded goggles flashed in the light from the glowing beast far above. "You bring up a good point. Shrap and I can stay here with Avery while you and Jack accompany Azazel to kill the monster."

"Uh, hey, you dipshits! Not to be rude, but if we don't get up there now, the Flamecrest is gonna take off and leave us here!" Cynthia and Crow both nodded, then charged toward the group with a very trembling Shrap in the center. "Great news, you're not going," Cynthia encouraged, patting Shrap on his suited stomach while she grabbed Jack in one arm and the Tyrant of Torture in the other. "What the-Doc, what are you doing?!" Jack shouted. Azazel gave a similar reaction, but with far worse sailor's tongue.

Cynthia gave a wink and a nod to Crow and Shrap, saying to them, "Go into the library and find anything you can on how to kill it! We'll see if our methods can't make a dent!" Azazel leaned around Cynthia's chest to face the Sin Hunter with crazed black eyes. "Uh, is she gonna-" "Yeah she IIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSS!!!" Jack screamed, and Cynthia exploded from the courtyard floor, rocketing upward toward the fiery beats in a shower of icy particles. As snowflakes drifted down over the group standing in the courtyard, Crow and Shrap turned to me another with a nod, then ran off with Avery and a very quiet Wrench to find the private library.