Ars Goetia– Antichrist

Chapter 3: Episode 1


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Disclaimer: I don't own the Boys, Highschool DxD or any other franchise that can be found in this fanfiction.

Words Count: 4889


“… You don’t look like you need psychiatric help?” I tilted my head questioningly, watching in amusement as Cindy went from pale, nervously bumbling to blushing a bright red. Now, it might seem arrogant of me, but pretty sure she just checked my ‘little brother’ out… Wait–! “I- I’ll tell you everything I know, but can you p- put on some clothes first?”

‘Oh shit…’ Wait, was that reluctance and regret I heard in her voice? Nah, must have been my imagination. I knew I was good-looking thanks to the years I spent hunting Cryptids, but I was no Chris Hemsworth, I was not jaws-droppingly attractive. Again, Belial’s voice growled in the back of my head, and though I could not see his face, I had a feeling he was wearing a very smug appearance right now. ‘It is only natural the humans would worship our charm, being the useless, ugly cretins they are.

Too far bro, too far. I was a human, and we weren’t that bad… Then memories of idiotic teenagers going camping in the woods, only to be picked off one after another by Cryptids entered my mind, memories of crying women and sobbing men slobbering and running  around all over the place. Okay, maybe we were that bad, but you didn’t have to be such a fucking dick about it. They were just regular people with no prior training in regard to Cryptids.

It was a perfectly normal response! Belial shrugged, going silence as I scowled internally, yet my face remained a stoic smile. Don’t want to scare Jean Grey over here, do we?

With that thought in mind, grey mistWorthlessness began to coat my form, rippling like a disturbed lake, before condensing into a set of full-body armor, leaving my biceps, thighs and joints covered under a soft, dull metallic fibers all woven together, while my chest, shins and shoulders were protected under plates of greyish metals that felt kinda similar to the fibers, yet simultaneously different in ways I could not quite describe.

Visibly lighter in shade and tougher, maybe?

Once I was clothed, it was easy to make her spill the beans afterward. Apparently, I had been transported to a Comic World? No idea which though, Homelander, Queen Maeve and Black Noir certainly weren’t characters I was familiar with. And from their descriptions, they didn’t seem to be alternate versions of Superman and his superpowered friends either. There were simply too many differences in both appearances and behaviors.

Now, correct me if I was wrong, but I had never known Superman to have blonde hair. Though, to be fair, I hadn’t exactly kept up with the current trends, living primarily in forests and woods did that to ya’. I was five minutes away from being an actual caveman when it came to entertainments, and that’s not an exaggeration either. I was just that much of a… Uhmm, what did the kids these days call us? Ah-yes, a boomer.

“So Cindy, what do these heroes do really? It’s not like there are villains for them to fight, right?” According to her, America was blessed by God, which was why Supes kept popping up everywhere in the country. Yup, this reeked of conspiracies. These Supes were probably governmental test subjects or something similar. I’d chew on my feet if that’s not the case. “W- Well, they mostly deal with criminals and terrorists, I think? There’s also news of Vought– The company that owns the Seven is trying to sign a contract with the military.”

And there it was! “I see… And how do you feel about these heroes?”

“They’re- They’re fine, I guess? I used to idolize Queen Maeve, watched all her movies until–“ Cindy choked on a sob as she swept her gaze past the smoldering crater where Sage Grove Center once sat. “If they’re truly the heroes they portray themselves as, why didn’t they save us? Save me? Where were they when we were suffering!? The things they did to us here, the experiments! It’s- It’s– WHY?!”

Cindy knelt, hugging her head, sobbing hysterically between laughter as I pulled her into my embrace. Idly, Pride and Belial both scoffed disdainfully at the girl’s display of weakness and vulnerability. “It was so painful, so many of us died, I- I thought I’d be next…” The last vestige of Humanity me, however, ached at the thoughts of everything she must have gone through, how utterly hopeless she must have felt.

This was wrong.

I was used to the wars waged between humans and cryptids, I was used to the cruelty humans were capable of when it concerned their survival, but this was wrong.

There’s no enemy to fight, no creatures to experiment upon, so they turned their gazes toward the minority of the population blessed with unique gifts and powers. How could they do that? How dared they do that?! Wrath bubbled, its voice screaming at me to enact Justice on those responsible, dwarfing even Pride and Belial’s. It’s like a fire was spilling from my chest, threatening to devour me whole, yet looking at Cindy, how small she felt in my arms…

That rage seemed to subside.

Present, yes. But it paled in comparison. “It’s alright, you’re gonna be fine. I’ll make those responsible for this pay, that I promise you.”

“What- What am I supposed to do now, Johnathan? I can’t go home, they will find me! And I have nowhere else to go…” I wished I could give her an answer, but I didn’t know what to do either. I was essentially no one on this version of Earth. I had no ID, no savings and no contacts. All I had were my powers and sins to accompany me, which was everything I needed before talking to her. “I don’t know, Cindy. But once I’m done with them, they won’t try to take you ever again, I’ll make sure of that.”

My eyes gleamed ominously as Wrath reared its ugly head once more. ‘Enough! We’ll deal with those animals later.’

Wrath almost seemed to sulk as I patted Cindy’s back. I’d be lying if I said I knew what to do, I was fine going solo, I could live off of the lands temporarily, but I very much doubted the girl could. There was also the matter of foods, drinks and shelter… We couldn’t just eat successful hunts and drink out of streams, or could we? Nah, that’s not possible. I wasn’t that much of a caveman, I needed a working plumbing system at least.

There weren’t many options for us, so stealing from an ATM it was!

Once Cindy’s cries had abated, I swooped the girl in my arms and took to the sky.

Despite her clearly enhanced durability, I was careful to avoid hurting her. I didn’t know how fast I could move on land, but I was certain I could effortlessly break the sound-barrier when flying. The wings on my back weren’t just for show. While most Daemons could naturally levitate thanks to magical bullshit, the wings served as a booster of sort, propelling us forward, helping us arrest momentum and change direction.

Obviously, this meant our bodies were made for high-speed flight too. According to Belial, we could withstand as much damages as we could dish it out, being semi-clumps of Mana and all that, so I wasn’t worried about myself, but Cindy? If I broke the sound-barrier while carrying her, her skin might just peel off like a banana due to air friction, and that’s only if she didn’t burst into a human-shaped fireball first. Which was why I had to glide slowly in the air.

At least the girl herself seemed happy with the experience…

If this had been my Earth, I would not have gone airborne ever, since satellite cameras could easily catch sight of me, but this was a version of Earth where off-brand Superman– I meant, ‘Homelander‘ was blasting heat-vision at roadside criminals like the superpower was going out of style, I doubted some dude flapping about with wings would be on their radar.

Also, Homelander? I could conjure up twenty different Supes names off the top of my head that was hundreds, if not thousands of times less ridiculous, and you’re telling me an entire team dedicated to naming Superheroes could not do a better job? Whoever owned Vought, they needed to fire the Marketing Department ASAP, ‘cause these guys clearly weren’t cutting it. Black Noir quite literally translated to Black Black, for the Devil’s sake!

If you were that uninspired, just call the guy Noir and be done with it.

“That’s– That’s New York.” I snapped free of my thoughts, gently patting Cindy’s head as I replied sarcastically. “Yeah, it is. One of the most overrated city on the planet, where thieves, robbers and drug-dealers stalk in every alley and you can wake up to a puddle of piss at your doorstep any day of the week.”

I grinned cheekily at the pouting Cindy. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” I’d be the first to admit New York was an overpriced shithole, right up there with San Francisco and Detroit, but at the same time, it was familiar, cozy even. I used to live here with my parents, before their untimely demises. I always wondered how things would have turned out, had we not gone on that fateful camping trip in the forest. ‘Maybe they would be alive still…’

“It really is.” Cindy paused, not even bothering to hide the awe in her tone. “I was born in a small town of two thousands people, I’ve always wanted to visit a big city prior to- to Sage Grove…”

“Well, you– Little Missy, made it. You can cross that off your wish-list now.” She chuckled as I grabbed her nose, a chuckle which soon turned into full-blown laughter. “What do you ‘Little’? You look even younger than me.”

“You’ll find that appearance is often deceiving, Cindy. Just look at me for example, I appear to be your typical demon, but am I evil?” Cindy shook her head laughingly as we landed on a nearby roof. My horns dissipated, wings folded and tail retracted into my spine as she replied under her breath. “No, you don’t seem to be. You’re better than the doctors and guards at least.”

“At least?” I repeated with a raised eyebrow as Cindy tried to wink at me and failed miserably in the process, reiterating. “At least, Johnny Boy.”

“Oh! I see how it is, so I saved you from mad scientists, and this is how you treat me?” A hand over my heart, I asked with a faux hurt tone. If I had been a better actor, I might have attempted to squeeze a tear or two out. Sadly, I was not, and the best I could do was keep a straight face throughout the ordeal, until I couldn’t, bursting out in laughter as I held my stomach. Cindy was in much the same situation, giggling manically to herself.

I know, I know. It was dumb, yet it’s exactly small things like this that we all kind of needed in our lives.

Especially the two of us.

I just died and fled from an actual Hellscape.

And Cindy had escaped her psychopathic captors mere hours ago.

“This looks fun–” Suddenly, a voice entered our ears. It’s what you would expect from a politician, slick yet slimy, portraying a sense of confidence people would only have when faced with those utterly inferior to them. Dressed in a blue, skin-tight bodysuit with the American flag fluttering behind him, the blonde floating guy smiled, a practiced smile that just screamed fake to my eyes. I had seen his kind one too many times in my line of work. “– Mind if I join in?”

“Actually, I do mind. If you haven’t realized, we’re having a private conversation here.” The effect was immediate. The tightening of his jaws, the pulses of the blood vessels on his forehead and the audible thumps of his heart quickening. It was too easy, like taking candies from a baby, to figure out what type of person Homelander was. He wasn’t used to having his dominance challenged and/or ignored.

The nonchalance in my tone as I was addressing him, instead of groveling beneath his feet angered him. Hell, I was fairly sure he was ready to attack us with the way his fists were clenching, the only thing keeping him from making the first move was the person speaking to him on the earbuds he wore. ‘So the classic Chad then.’

“What can I do for you, Homelander?” Thus far, I had figured his personality for the most part. Dominant in front of the others, yet fragile on the inside. Hell, I could practically see the parental issues hanging from his cape. This Homelander was your typical alpha male, one with as many ‘troubles at home’ as your regular jocks, and no amount of authority could cure him of that. What’s more troubling was his powers…

Your average jock could cause a lot of damages, but they were never bulletproof. They didn’t have the ability to fly, or shoot laser from their eyes. Neither did they have Superhuman Strength, Speed and Stamina.

Unlike him.

If Cindy’s words were to be trusted, should he ever go off the deep end, there were few who could put a stop to his rampage. ‘Vought should really have this guy see a therapist before he does something he will regret.’

But hey, that’s Vought’s problems, not mine. As long as he didn’t go around murdering people left and right, Homelander could flaunt his egotistical mug all he liked. “There was a terrorist attack on a mental facility located in Pennsylvania a few hours back…” He paused, menacingly. “You two don’t happen to know something about that, do you?”

“Nope, not a clue.” I lied, wrapping my arm over Cindy’s shoulders protectively as I noticed her fearful shivers. ‘Dammit, Missy. Work with me here!’

I didn’t want to go against Homelander, not until I knew everything there was about him. How he operated, how his powers worked, and how powerful he was. Not to mention, the guy had an entire company at his beck and call, plus the public approval, which might seem inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, but I had learnt earlier on that sometimes, public approval was all you needed and more. “No idea what you’re on about, my guy.”

“Is that so? Because Vought’s satellites caught clear pictures of a… Winged man carrying a girl just like one next to you now.” I vehemently denied in a righteous tone. “Again, no idea who these characters might be, but you should give chase this instance. Such heinous crimes must be answered for!”

What?! Plausible deniability, people! You wouldn’t believe how many times that had gotten me out of a tough situation. Granted, I always had legitimate fronts as a FBI or CIA agent back then… Still, unless Homelander had irrefutable proofs of our ‘crimes’ and an arrest warrant, he could not legally apprehend us. Any attack on our persons, and we might even be eligible to countersue. Now, you’re probably thinking, ‘But John! You just said he has public approval!

And that was indeed the case, which was exactly what I wanted. You thought the Government would be happy to have a group of uncontrollable, powerful Superhumans– Superhumans who weren’t even associated with them, operate in their country? Yeah, fat chance of that happening. It made cops look like fools, soldiers look incompetent and congressmen useless. Think about it, what’s the point of passing laws if Supes didn’t have to follow them?

Especially a Supe known worldwide to be the ‘strongest man on the planet’. Those greasy, slimy piles of shits would be all the way up in our boy Homelander’s asshole the moment they got the opportunity– An opportunity that I would gladly present to them with a bowtie on top should square-jaws over here decide to make a move. I’d drown him in so much lawsuits, his children and grandchildren were going to feel the effects.

Our lack of identifications might be a problem, but it was nothing federal agencies could not solve. “I know who you are, Adam. Madelyn has given me plenty of your information, what you are, how you crash-landed on Earth–” Homelander stopped, presumably for dramatic effect. “We are the same, you and I. We’re both aliens stranded on this planet, aiming to protect it…”

You are reading story Ars Goetia– Antichrist at novel35.com

I tuned out his chattering, opting to focus on the voice in his earbuds instead.

I could already tell he was going to give me a lengthy speech about his greatness or something similar. One thing I was sure of though, was that we were not the same in any capacity. For once, I was not a sleazy, deceitful cult leader. Two, I was born on Earth, just not this Earth. And three, I wasn’t being fed lines using hidden earbuds by a shady international company.

Whoever was on the other side, they were desperate to gain my trust, and I was most definitely going to take advantage of that. “And– You’re not listening at all, are you?”

Homelander swiped a gloved hand down his face, an irritated smile on his face, temper rising as his eyes lit up like a pair of flashlights. Fortunately for the both sides, the man himself did not go through with his attack. I’d hate to have the first thing I did on this Earth be murking a famous Superhero. That would be a real hassle to deal with. “Nope! Why don’t you throw me those earbuds so I can talk to this Ms. Stillwell? She seems rather invested in my well-being and yet, I can’t remember ever meeting her.”

Homelander glared at me, eyes blazing with unstable energy once more.

Obviously, I couldn’t let him hog the spotlights, so I circulated my Mana and allowed several of the Belial’s Magical Circles, crested and all that, to flare up. Daemon’s Magic was far more instinctual than I had thought. It still had limits, you couldn’t perform permanent Enhancement-Type Spells with it, and the less you knew about the effects you wanted to replicate, the science of fire for example, the more Mana you would have to spend.

But, creating cursed flames would be well-within my capability.

Demonic Mana was already a cursed energy after all. All I’d have to do was imbue Demonic properties into the fire, and the resulting flames could- Should harm even Wonder Boy over here.

“Don’t…” Worthlessness crept up from my stature, forming greyish chains that swayed gently, awaiting commands like the tentacles of a Cosmic Horror. “Trust me, you will regret it.”

I heard the woman on his earbuds scream for him to drop the lasers, yet Homelander refused and, since he himself didn’t plan to obey his presumed superiors, I wasn’t going to extend the olive branch either. It’s all about posturing really, being a Chad, Homelander would like jump in the moment his preys displayed even a moment of weakness, and I was no prey, but the Hunter. ‘Let the worm experiences the might of Belial!

Trample on the worthless shit-stain’s head!

Tear him to pieces and feed him his innards!

Belial, Pride and Wrath yowled in the back of my mind like disobedient children as I groaned internally. ‘Will you guys shut up? I’m in the middle of something here!’

‘’’No.’’’ The three voices harmonized in a resounding refusal. Gosh, what a bunch of dicks. “So, what do you say? You pipe down that heat-vision thing and throw me the earbuds, I defuse my Spells and we can resolve this peacefully.”

Give him your earpieces! He’s just company property.” This time, the bitch managed to piss me off as I allowed Pride to take full reign of the wheel while I sat, enjoying the ride. Negotiation would only work when two parties were on equal standing. If this Madelyn character believed I was less than her, my demands would be entirely ignored. “I’m no one’s property, you HapLEss CuR!”

——◇  [Ars Goetia] ◇——

Today must have been the worst day in Madelyn Stillwell’s life.

Barely hours had passed since Mister Edgar passed her jurisdiction over an actual, real life alien who crash-landed on Earth over five months back, and immediately the morning after, the facility where said alien was stored– Sage Grove Center detonated. It wasn’t attacked, it wasn’t broken in. All signs indicated the explosion had started from within, leaving naught but a pile of rubbles in its wake. Just like that, billions of USD were gone, alongside some very talented scientists Vought had managed to procure.

‘At least Subject A-01 isn’t dead…’ Madelyn told herself, though the losses of lives, money and important documents were catastrophic, it was nothing Vought International couldn’t replace. Even the test subjects were mere children injected with Compound V. They were all replaceable, but not the alien.

Despite their efforts, Vought’s scientists had all said the alien’s biology simply made no sense whatsoever in their reports, a biology that, by all means, should not even be possible, and for that reason, they had concluded even amongst his species, A-01 was likely an unique case. Essentially, they were nowhere close to understanding how his biology worked, and the loss of this humanoid, alien-lifeform would have most definitely incurred Stan Edgar’s wrath.

Which was why Madelyn was beyond relief when Vought’s satellites managed to capture images of a winged man with resemblance to the alien-child they had locked up. It was a stretch for sure, to connect this young adult to a child barely in the cusp of his early teenage years appearance-wise, but it was a gamble that had paid off. Facial recognition programs had deduced a 87.1222% of similarities in their facial features.

Thus, Madelyn had immediately sent the nearest of the Seven to apprehend Subject A-01.

She must admit, that was not her smartest decision.

She should have called Maeve instead. John was just too… Difficult thanks to his childhood.

Egotistic, arrogant and just overall violently unpredictable. John ‘Homelander’ Gillman was a real piece of work. Even Madelyn herself, in spite of the emotional and physical bond between them, was scared shitless of the man’s murderous tendencies. He was simply too powerful for her or anyone to do anything to him. Perhaps a nuke might harm him? But there’s no chance for it to even land, seeing as the man’s max speed was at least Mach 2. He would be out of the nuke’s range the second he caught wind of its existence.

Sending him after A-01 was an oversight on her part, but in Madelyn’s defense, she had spent the entire night toiling over A-01’s documents and reports. She was sleep-deprived, exhausted and constantly having to deal with her infant and Homelander’s antics. Now, the two were squaring off on a rooftop like they were actors in one of those awful Superheroes movies Vought pumped out yearly. “Somebody! Get Maeve on the phone for me, ASAP!”

The team looked at her, as though frozen in place. Madelyn grinded her teeth. “What. Are. You. Waiting. For?! Get her on the phone, you bunch of idiots!”

Once they had gone to do exact what she asked, Madelyn pressed on the intercom again, and using her gentlest voice, she coaxed. “John, I know you’re angry, but A-01 is important. Please, calm down, you can’t hurt him…”

That, that was the wrong term to describe the alien as John’s gritted his teeth, the sound of his jaws cracking audible to Madelyn’s ears. He was jealous. Even though he was the strongest, fastest, John had always suffered from abandonment issues. She blamed Jonah Vogelbaum for this mess, if the damned scientist had raised Homelander in a better environment, she wouldn’t have to grovel in front him as she was now.

Madelyn would have never denied her involvement and responsibility for his fucked up, psychotic personality, having seduced and touched him inappropriately when he was young as a ploy to gain Homelander’s trust and confidence, but she was merely taking advantage of problems that had already existed to her benefits. Unlike Vogelbaum, who ultimately achieved nothing. Homelander was always going to be powerful, with or without the scientist’s twisted experiments.

Sadly, in his attempt to create the ‘perfect’ creation, he made a nigh unstoppable monster instead…

“He’s nothing, John. You’ve always been the most perfect, and him being important does not make that any less true.” She coaxed again. “Give him your earpieces…! He’s just company property.”

“I’m no one’s property, you HapLEss CuR!” Subject Adam’s voice distorted as horns protruded on his head, fangs grew, tail jutted from his spine and feathery wings, blacker than oil unfolded. He was beautiful, Madelyn thought to herself. She knew the effects Adam had on others, but even through a screen, she could not deny that. John was pretty, his entire persona was the slick, if slightly geeky farm boy, but Adam?

He was the Noble, the elitist with angular features, burning amber-eyes and a jawline she could rain kisses on all day. And that ravenous, sinful and almost feral look in his gaze stirred something deep inside her, something pleasurable. “You can hear me, Adam?”

The Demon scowled. “I can hear you, and my name’s not Adam, it’s Johnathan, Johnathan Belial, and I’m no one’s property! Not you, not even God himself…

His messy black hair swayed as the air itself seemed to coil around him at the declaration, and Madelyn felt her heart go to her throat. Suddenly, lightning flashed over John’s– Their heads, she realized when heard the rumblings of thunder outside Vought’s communication center. It was not the usual blue-color, but a deep, blood-crimson while the winds raged and clouds swirled, appearing as though they were being sucked in by an imaginary monster in the sky.

Johnathan?! Stop!” Thankfully, Adam– Johnathan Belial snapped out of his wrath-induced haze at the voice of another of Sage Grove’s former resident. “Whatever you’re doing, it’s affecting the entire city! You have to stop!

Johnathan’s movements ceased as he looked up. The moment he did, splatters of blood began to pour, a bloody rain to herald the arrival of the Antichrist. “What the fuck…?” Beside her, a Vought’s employee muttered, eyes wide with fear as he averted his eyes to gaze at the blood streaming down Vought Tower’s tinted glass. In all fairness, like him, Madelyn Stillwell was in a desperate need for an answer too.

Could it be that they were wrong?

Maybe A-01, or Johnathan Belial as he referred to himself, was no alien, but a Demon?

An actual, God-forbid Demon straight out of Hell? Come to think of it, Belial was one of Solomon’s Lesser Keys, wasn’t he?

Madelyn normally wasn’t a religious woman, but the proofs were right there, how could she, or anyone for that matter, ignored that?

Well, shit.” Belial muttered, his inhumane features disappearing into his muscular, armored frame as he swept his gaze at something in the air. Then, with a motion of his hand, everything stopped. The winds, the rain, the forming storm, it all just stopped as sudden as it came. Even Homelander, for all his strength and powers appeared disturbed at the ease in which Belial commanded and bent reality to his will.

Sorry ‘bout that, I do get Biblical when I’m angry.” The bastard had the nerve to make quip and smirk after causing an event that would likely throw the entirety of America, if not the planet as whole in chaos, and yet in spite of the devious grin on his face, Madelyn couldn’t help but think he was still so perfect. Only then did she realize, he was not the least bit marred by the blood-rain. It reminded her of a quote her mother used to say:

‘The Devil’s real, Madelyn. And he’s not a tiny horned man, but a thing of beauty beyond your wildest dreams, for in spite of his sins, he was once God’s favorite.’

That quote had been used by her mother to describe Madelyn’s father. The abusive, neglectful bastard he was, but he too was the catch of town, for they only knew the façade he wore so often. Madelyn Stillwell thought she had met ‘The Devil’ of her life in John Gillman– Known worldwide as Homelander, but today she understood she was wrong. For the real article now stood, visible to her eyes, and yet she craved him.

What are you…?” Homelander asked, his voice trembling with fear and existential dread as the Demon– No! The Devil set sight on him once more. “Really? Are you slow, Wonder Boy? Do all these Biblical references not remind you of anything at all?

Belial laughed, spreading his arms invitingly wide, as though he was attempting to draw the entire city in his chest.

I am a Daemon

I am the Ars Goetia made flesh

The opposite of the Gods

For some odd reasons, as the two stood on each side, it almost painted a picture of God versus Devil in Madelyn’s mind.

I am Johnathan Belial, but you may call me

The Antichrist

 

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