"No More Fear"

Part 1: Memories and the Storm Approaches

The day had grown long, and in the dim light of the medical wing, Simon lay still on the bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. A heavy silence surrounded him, broken only by the faint hum of equipment and the occasional muffled footsteps beyond the doors.

Inside his mind, memories twisted and curled, each more vivid than the last. He could still see her—his mother—standing in the hallway of their old home, smiling with all the warmth in the world. The memory shimmered with a golden glow as she looked at him, brushing a hand over his cheek.

"You will grow to be one of the strongest humans that ever existed," she had said softly, her voice filled with pride. "And you will help a lot of innocent people, Simon. I promise you."

That beautiful moment shattered into darkness.

The next image burned into his thoughts—him, trembling, holding a rifle. Rain pounded around him like bullets. In front of him stood the thing that once was his mother. Her form had mutated into a horrifying monstrosity, muscles bulging unnaturally around her neck and head. The left half of her face was warped beyond recognition, and her hands—shaking violently—were elongated and monstrous. Her legs were stretched and bent in impossible angles. And still, she smiled.

"I… p-pro-promi-se y-you!" she sobbed, a grotesque blend of joy and agony. Tears streamed down her corrupted face.

"M… Mama?" Simon's voice cracked in the memory and again in the present, tears now sliding freely down his cheeks. "Mama… p-please… w-what… why is it us…?"

The guilt crushed him. He gritted his teeth, slammed a fist against the bed frame, and shouted into the empty room, "I'M THE ONE WHO DID THIS TO THEM!! FUUUCK!"

The next moment was pure chaos. He began smashing the back of his head against the wall—once, twice, three times—until he collapsed back onto the bed, sobbing uncontrollably, his body shaking with each breath.

Meanwhile, far from the quiet pain inside the medical wing, the base buzzed with movement and preparation. Matthew was on the move, leading a rescue mission to assist a stranded squad under attack by a high-class demon mage. The scientists had added new functionality to Simon's sword—a long, retractable chain that allowed him to pull it back or even travel to wherever it was embedded, instantly. Additionally, they had reinforced his armor and gauntlets with a rare, incredibly heavy element that added razor-sharp thorns to his blows.

Jessica and the rest of the team were in the training halls, practicing relentlessly. Lesley and Isabel worked on precision and team coordination. Markus and Stephen trained with RPGs, practicing reload speed and reaction timing. They all knew the storm was coming—they could feel it.

And then, the alarm blared.

The air was torn apart by the shrieking sound of the base-wide sirens. Red lights flashed. Doors slammed shut and opened in sync as soldiers rushed to their positions.

"They're here!" a panicked soldier shouted, bursting into Colonel Cameron's office.

Chaos ignited in seconds. Everyone scrambled to battle stations. Humvees lined up. Tank crews rushed to load shells. Helicopters spun to life. Jessica and her team readied their gear—sharpened swords, sniper rifles, paralyzing guns.

Captain William sprinted to the medical wing and found Simon still curled up on the bed.

"I have to go," William said urgently, placing a hand on Simon's shoulder. "The demons are attacking. This is it."

"I want to fight," Simon said, rising from the bed, his eyes still wet with grief but filled now with fury. "I'm the only one who can handle the new armor."

"You're not ready," William insisted. "Not yet. Let us handle this. Consider it us returning the favor."

Turning to the doctors nearby, he barked, "Don't let him leave this room! No matter what!"

He then contacted Dr. Hale and Dr. Levin. "Under no circumstances is he to take the armor."

And with that, William left to join the defense force outside.

Part 2: Breaking Chains, Unleashing Chaos

Outside, the battlefield had turned into a nightmare.

The skies were choked with black clouds. Explosions tore through the horizon. Crawling demons with pale skin and blazing eyes rushed forward, flanked by fire-wielding demon guards in obsidian armor. Mages hovered just above the earth, their hands glowing with hellish energy, while enormous beasts stomped through the ranks of soldiers, leaving trails of carnage in their wake.

Jessica slashed through enemies with a razor-sharp blade and shield in hand, refusing to fall back. Isabel and Lesley took cover on a broken rooftop, sniping enemy mages with steady aim. Markus and Stephen rained down explosive justice with RPGs, obliterating demon clusters wherever they could.

Alucard, inside a tank, loaded shells with precision, barking coordinates and threats in equal measure.

Then the sky split.

Descending from a dark portal in the clouds was a twisted figure cloaked in black smoke—the Fear Demon. His cloak slithered like shadows, and his glowing red eyes pierced through the storm like twin infernos. Seated upon a throne made of bones, he surveyed the battlefield with a smirk.

"Hmph. Mere mortals," the demon snarled. "How dare you resist?! Surrender now, and we may grant you a swift death!"

Captain William stepped forward, aiming his rifle with fire in his eyes. "Return to hell, you fucking hell pigs! This is OUR land—and we shall END YOU and your rotten army!"

The Fear Demon bared his teeth in amusement. "Fine... You asked for it."

With a flick of his claw, his army surged forward.

The battlefield erupted in hellfire.

In the medical wing, soldiers poured in—wounded, maimed, dying. Blood stained the floor. Doctors scrambled to stabilize patients.

Simon sat upright now, a storm brewing in his chest.

He stopped a frantic soldier. "What's happening outside? Are we making any progress?"

The man looked like a ghost—his eyes wide, trembling. "No… we aren't even killing them. We're all gonna die."

Another sobbing soldier collapsed into a chair. "I watched a demon break my friend's jaw… then rip him apart!"

Simon's grip tightened around the edge of the bed.

That was it.

He waited. Quietly, like a shadow.

The moment the hallway emptied, he slipped out of the medical wing. Dodging patrols, he made his way toward the research lab.

Inside, Dr. Hale stood near the armor chamber. Simon stepped forward, but she blocked his path. "Simon, no. You're not ready. You mustn't fight—your condition—"

Dr. Levin appeared beside her, supporting her stance.

Simon's voice dropped into a dangerous growl. "If you ever try that again… I'll show you the difference between me and those demons outside. This is your last warning—step aside."

A third scientist stepped up—Dr. Kevin. "Who do you think you are? You should show some respect! You're a spoiled brat! They said you can't go in, so you won't. I'll stand right here and—"

Simon grabbed him by the face and hurled him to the ground with a crash. Without another word, he stormed into the lab and began suiting up.

He put on the armor. Locked the utility belt. Holstered the laser and paralyzing guns in the magnetic cases. He strapped on two sidearms—an FN Five-Seven and a Desert Eagle—with extra mags. He was almost complete.

Dr. Hale stepped forward once more, this time with pride.

"Despite your mental state… you still want to fight. Good luck, soldier."

She saluted. Dr. Levin followed suit.

As Simon walked toward the exit, Levin called out, "We made a few upgrades to the sword. Just be careful—"

"I'll figure it out," Simon muttered, already gone.

Outside, the world was falling apart.

Simon emerged into the fray, eyes cold and calculating. The flying gargoyles swooped low. Crawling demons crept from shadows. Demon guards with burning swords clashed against tanks. Mages floated like spirits, casting soul-wrenching magic that drained soldiers of sanity and life alike.

He spotted Markus and Stephen caught under the massive foot of a hulking demon.

Stephen's arm dangled, broken. Markus screamed in pain, his right leg crushed. The demon lifted Markus by the head, jaw widening.

"NO!" Simon roared.

His sword flew through the air like lightning, impaling the demon's heart so deeply that only the hilt remained visible. The demon howled and dropped Markus.

Simon activated his energy shield, then triggered the chain system. The hook latched onto the embedded sword and pulled him through the air like a missile. He slammed into the demon, launching it backward. Markus wasted no time.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOTHERFUCKER!" he shouted, firing an RPG directly at the demon. The explosion reduced it to ash.

But now… they had his attention.

The demons turned. Dozens of glowing eyes fixed on Simon's hulking armor.

"COME AT ME, YOU SICK BASTARDS!" he screamed.

Part 3: Simon's Rampage & the Fear Demon's Special Attack

Simon stood in the middle of the battlefield, surrounded by the corpses of fallen demons and broken fragments of weapons. The air was thick with smoke and blood, echoing with screams, growls, and the distant thunder of artillery. His heart pounded with rage, grief, and something darker—something he couldn't name.

The ground trembled beneath his boots as his gaze swept over the carnage. A horde of demons had begun to converge on his position, their glowing eyes locked onto the warrior cloaked in advanced armor and vengeance. Among the bodies of fallen allies, Simon saw Stephen and Markus fighting back with all they had—Markus limping, his right leg already crushed, while Stephen clutched his broken arm, barely able to hold his gun.

A massive demon lunged toward them, fangs bared and claws dripping with blood. Its enormous hand wrapped around Markus's head, lifting him from the ground as it prepared to feast.

Simon's mind snapped.

With a roar, he hurled his sword with such force that it tore through the air like a bullet, piercing the demon's heart in an explosion of black blood. The impact hurled the creature back, making it release Markus mid-air.

Simon activated the tether mechanism attached to the sword. A high-tension chain shot from his gauntlet, locking onto the hilt. The moment it latched, Simon launched himself forward like a missile, his shield igniting as he flew.

He crashed into the demon mid-fall, blasting it backwards as Markus shouted, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOTHERFUCKER!"

BOOM!

Markus fired his RPG, the explosion finishing the demon off in a ball of searing light. But the noise had attracted others. From all directions, demons turned to Simon. His armor gleamed under the blood-red sky. His body was a fortress. His presence was a challenge.

"COME AT ME, YOU SICK BASTARDS!" he roared, voice echoing over the chaos.

A stampede of monstrous figures rushed him—guards, mages, beasts of nightmare.

Simon hurled his sword again, embedding it deep into another demon's torso. He rocketed toward it using the chain, slammed his shield into its chest, and ripped the blade free to decapitate it in one brutal stroke. Without pause, he twisted, beheaded another with a single swing, and fired his laser gun at the next, melting its face in a flash of red-hot fury.

A heavily armored demon guard rushed him with a flaming sword. Simon let the blow hit his armor. Sparks flew—but the armor held strong. The demon recoiled, shocked.

Simon grinned. "Watch out for the thorns, bitch!"

With his spiked gauntlet, he delivered a jaw-shattering punch that sent the demon crashing into a pile of rubble. Another demon came at him, but Simon grabbed it by the skull and hurled it into a group of approaching enemies like a battering ram.

He raised his shield and let loose a shockwave, blasting away a cluster of attackers, then turned and thrust a live grenade into a demon's mouth.

"Bon appétit!" he snarled, punting the creature into a crowd.

BOOM!

The explosion sent limbs flying. Blood rained.

A group of elite mages surrounded him now, casting debilitating spells that gnawed at his senses—spells of fear, paralysis, and agony. But Simon vanished beneath the ground, appearing behind two of them. His sword flashed once, slicing both mages clean in half. He emerged, face smeared with blood, laughing like a man possessed.

He raised his laser gun, ready to erase the others—until a massive demon guard punched the weapon from his hand. The brute tried to shatter Simon's gauntlet, only to recoil in agony—its own hand mangled by the thorns embedded in Simon's armor.

"What is that?!" the demon screamed.

Simon cocked his head and smirked. "Told you. Thorns."

His punch connected—full-force, unrelenting—sending the demon flying straight into the Fear Demon's throne, splintering the base.

At last, the Fear Demon leaned forward, interest replacing boredom. His smile faded. "How…?"

This wasn't supposed to happen. No human could do this.

But before he could speak again, he plunged both clawed hands into the earth. A sinister glow lit the battlefield.

The ground rumbled.

Two enormous, burning magic circles formed around Simon—one on his left, one on his right. Blades burst from the ground like obsidian spikes, glowing with otherworldly heat. They swung up and down in perfect rhythm—sharp enough to slice through steel, and growing closer and closer to Simon with every pass, narrowing their radius like a spiraling execution trap.

Soldiers screamed from afar. "GET OUT OF THERE!"

Simon looked at the swirling death trap. He could already feel the temperature rising, could almost taste the heat of the blades that surrounded him.

But he didn't run.

Instead, he braced himself.

He rammed his shield into the ground, crouched low, and held the sword horizontally beneath it.

"Let's try something new," he growled.

He struck the base of the shield with the sword—once, hard.

BOOM!

The energy discharge created a shockwave so powerful it launched him high into the air, over the spinning blade rings. The ground exploded behind him as the execution trap collapsed inward, its own power devouring itself.

Simon twisted mid-air, eyes locked on the Fear Demon below.

And then he dropped—sword-first.

The blade slammed into the demon's back, piercing armor, flesh, and bone. The Fear Demon howled in pain, staggering forward under the weight of the blow.

But the moment was broken—

Jessica's scream pierced through the chaos.

Simon's eyes widened.

"JESSICA?!"

He turned.

And in that heartbeat, he didn't see the Fear Demon vanish. He didn't feel the shift in the air behind him.

All he heard was her voice—terrified, too close.

The Fear Demon teleported behind her.

Part 4: Final Confrontation – The Fall of the Fear Demon

The Fear Demon materialized behind Jessica, towering over her like death incarnate. His glowing purple claws pulsed with raw energy as he raised one arm, ready to impale her.

"NO!" Simon screamed.

In a blur, he hurled his sword again. It flashed through the air like a streak of green lightning—piercing the demon's chest and throwing him backward. Jessica dropped to the ground, breathless and wide-eyed, her body frozen by terror.

Simon activated the chain tether and launched himself forward. In less than a second, he reached the demon, yanked the sword free, and slashed across his chest again. The Fear Demon roared, slamming Simon back with a magical pulse—but it was too late.

The fear was gone.

Simon stood firm.

He wasn't afraid anymore.

The demon tried to teleport away again, but Simon was faster. He used the chain to close the gap and brought his shield crashing down onto the demon's shoulder, shattering bones and twisting armor. Black blood sprayed from the wound.

"You wanted fear?" Simon growled. "Then feel mine!"

The Fear Demon raised his claws to strike, but Simon grabbed his leg and hurled him across the battlefield like a ragdoll. The demon slammed into a pile of broken tanks and crushed corpses, struggling to rise.

The soldiers nearby turned to witness it—Simon, surrounded by bodies, glowing in the twilight of the burning horizon, dragging his sword through the dirt like death incarnate.

"I'm not afraid anymore," Simon muttered, raising his weapon.

But just as he stepped forward, the Fear Demon used his teleportation once more. He reappeared behind Simon and drove his claw deep into Simon's left arm.

"AGH!!"

Simon cried out as blood poured from the wound, his arm barely moving.

Jessica rushed toward them, screaming, "SIMON!!"

The Fear Demon saw her—his burning eyes narrowed.

He vanished and reappeared behind her again.

Simon saw it all in slow motion.

"NO!!"

Without thinking, he threw the sword one last time. It caught the demon clean through the chest, pinning him to the ground. Using the tether, Simon launched himself like a meteor, shield raised.

He hit the demon with everything he had.

The two rolled into the rubble, dust and smoke engulfing them.

Simon rose from the crater, pulling the demon up by the throat. His armor was cracked. His breath heavy. But his grip was steel.

"End of the line," Simon hissed.

The Fear Demon struggled. "You… you don't know… what's coming…"

Simon didn't respond. He stabbed the demon's heart again.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four times.

Then he crushed it in his fist—bones and flesh exploding in a cloud of black gore.

The Fear Demon gasped. "Curse… yo—"

Simon silenced him with a final punch, slamming his gauntlet into the demon's face.

CRACK.

He grabbed the skull with both hands and crushed it completely, ending the demon once and for all.

Everything went quiet.

Simon stood over the body, breathing hard, his mind swimming with a mix of blood, vengeance, and fatigue. The echoes of hallucinations flickered in his eyes—visions of vessels and glowing lines, flashes of the corrupted monster he'd once feared. In his mind, he wasn't looking at a demon anymore—he was seeing a broken man. A reflection. A warning.

The Fear Demon's death had unleashed a psychic wave—memories, visions, the voices of all the demons he had killed echoing in his head. But he didn't let them consume him.

Simon finally allowed himself to exhale.

He looked toward the horizon, where the sky was finally clearing, the black clouds fading.

The battle was over.

For now.