Final Doom:
Though all the top management of the UAC were dead, and so were most of their
personnel down to the janitors, the corporation survived, now under strict
government supervision. The UAC still sought the secret to matter apportation,
and continued its experiments under vastly increased safety measures.
The UAC's base was set up on one of the moons of Jupiter, hoping that the
increased distance would enhance Earth's safety if something went wrong.
Marines were stationed at the base, ready for anything.
Soon after the UAC opened its first Gate, the minions of Hell made their first
attack. Suddenly, through the Gate flowed spiked, fanged, dripping
techno-terrors. Meat machines flailed their armored limbs and slavered with
bloodlust, seeking soft bleeding manflesh to rend. But in their seeking, they
found only death. The United States Space Marine Corps was prepared for such
an event, and they poured molten death into the hordes of Hell. More demons
massed, hoping to overwhelm the defenders by their endless numbers. But mass
alone was no match for the marines. Set up in defensive positions around the
gate, the marines were able to slaughter the monsters by the hundreds, taking
few losses.
As suddenly as it had begun, the invasion ended. The last flaming skull
screamed through, was hit by twenty simultaneous shotgun blasts, and the
chamber was silent once more, except for the dripping of blood. Hell had
failed.
The research went on, more boldly, and less cautiously. All the marines
received the Silver Star from a grateful government, and the UAC made an
enormous contribution to the Veteran's Fund. The defensive positions were
strengthened, and the marines watched closely for another attempt, all their
attention drawn inward towards the Gates. They were looking in the wrong
direction.
Hell knew more than one trick. Months after the Gate incident, the yearly
supply ship came ahead of time. On radar, the ship looked far larger than
usual. And it was coming from the wrong direction. Strange, but not
inexplicable. The lax radar operators reported the ship's approach, and
personnel went out to the landing field to meet it. But it never landed.
Instead, it hovered over the base, miles in the air. The men and women looked
up at it, and saw that something was terribly wrong.
The ship could not have come from Earth. It was huge, kilometers long, and was
built of bone, steel, flesh, corruption, and death. It was a
bio-mechano-magical construct from the depths of Hell and It had come through
space for its vengeance. Enormous doors, large as football fields, irised open
and hideous demons poured out, plunging to the ground and blanketing the
entire base with their throbbing, pulsing bodies. They were everywhere at
once. The marines' defenses, set up to prevent an attack from the direction of
the Gate, were worthless. The monsters poured through the sewers, the air
vents, the hallways, everywhere, rampaging, corrupting, and feasting.
Once more, the surviving humans were left as zombified brain-dead
monstrosities. existing only to kill and kill and kill.
Only one man escaped death or zombification. The marine commander. You. You
weren't at the base when the skies opened and devastation poured from the
stars. You were miles away, enjoying a walk across the moon's rough-hewn
landscape. Then you heard a snortling gurgle behind you, whirled, to face one
of Them. The beings that still haunted your nightmares. Your reflexes weren't
dulled by your expierences, and you pulled out your pistol and blew the imp to
gory shreds.
Hot-footing it back to the base, you saw it all and realized what had happened
in a flash. The demon ship still floated above the infested base. Your boys --
the men you'd trained to fight and kill and die as no fighting man had ever
been trained before -- were dead. You were not there when it happened, to die
with them.
Unlike the ancient Samurai, who chose to die with their men, you cocked your
pistol. You were going to kill for your men. And if you died trying, well, you
were going to die anyway, some day. Death at the fangs of demons might be the
very worst way to die, but if they did manage to get you, Hell would know it
had been in a fight.
After Hell's catastrophic invasion of Earth, the United States took steps to
prevent such an invasion from recurring. The old UAC corporation was
refounded, under completely new management (since the old trustees and
stockholders were all dead, this wasn't much of a problem), and sent to
research tools and technologies to prevent such an incursion from happening
ever again.
Though the invasion had been stopped, and the remaining demons were gradually
being exterminated by mopping-up squads, it was clear that the powers of Hell
remained strong. While the Spider Mastermind and Baphomet seemed to no longer
threaten, who knew what else lay Outside? Waiting. Watching. Preparing.
The new UAC began working on quantum Accelerator devices, intended to close
interdimensional gates at a distance and so prevent future incursions forever.
The project began innocently enough. Naturally the scientists, in order to
learn how to close Gates, had to relearn Gate technology first. This ability
was rapidly regained. Perhaps too rapidly.
Soon, beings from Outside had their dire attention drawn to the new
experiments, and then, one day, a Gate opened in the heart of the research
complex. Unnatural horrors from the pit poured in, ravening for destruction.
But the UAC scientists had learned their trade. The Quantum Accelerator
Device performed perfectly in its maiden test -- the invasion Gate was closed
instantly and permanently when the Accelerator flicked on. A cyberdemon,
halfway through, was snipped in two when the Gate closed. Earth would now be
safe from literal invasion by Hell. At least, once the technology could be
set up around the globe.
The next day, a ring of seven Gates opened, throughout the base, and a
monstrous legion rampaged through. The Quantum Accelerator began putting out
the Gates at once, and within an hour, six were closed. But the hellish army
was now too strong, too numerous. The marines fought like mad dogs, but were
finally pulled down by the enemies' claws. The scientists, marines, and
bureaucrats were all slain or transformed into undead mankillers.
The Quantum Accelerator and its prototypes are deep inside the ravaged
complex. A demon Gatekeeper guards them and mans the last Gate of Hell. The
government, frantic that the Quantum Accelerator will be destroyed or used in
some alien fashion upon us, has ordered all marines to the site at once,
regardless of their location.
You were on leave at the beach, only a few minutes from the complex, when you
got the word. You suited up, grabbed a pistol, and raced your pickup truck to
the complex. When you arrived, flashes of light, howls, and chanting could be
heard from the interior. Corpses were scattered everywhere. Obviously the
Gatekeeper was doing something inside -- something that would soon reach some
kind of awful climax.
You know that within an hour or two, an entire division of marines will arrive
to assault the base with full artillery and air support. You also know that
they will be too late. Far too late. The airplanes will be plucked from the
sky by floating terrors, the cannons melted by diabolic rockets and fireballs,
the soldiers blasted to shreds as they charge into the armored shell of the
UAC buildings. In an hour or two, the monstrosities inside will have finished
their awful task, and will be prepared, once more, to take on the world.
It's up to you. You have to enter the complex and stop the Gatekeeper. Alone.
[edit on 3-4-2005 by Lord Altmis]