Name: Marcus Qwint
Age: 19
Aura Status: Locked
Current Health: Unconscious, due to blunt force trauma, administering medicinal shocks.
Weapon Status: Heavily armed and dangerous,
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Marcus jolted awake in the middle of a stretch of woods, grasping at himself and his weapons, pushing himself up off the ground, he retrieved his helmet and secured it, glancing at the location tracker and doing a double take.
Emerald Forest, Remnant.
"Oh come the fuck on! How did I even-" He stopped, his memory had returned, pieces of it at least.
Mars, meeting William, beating the Spider Mastermind, making it home, fighting the Icon of Sin...
"The Icon! William!
"He... no!..."
Marcus' knees buckled and he sank down, a whisper rose into a scream of grief as he wept for his friend. He cursed himself and shook away the pain, he was in unfamiliar territory and needed to focus.
He heard a few distant gunshots and perked up, shouldering his Super Shotgun, nicknamed the Slayer's Vengeance, He began moving toward the gunshots.
While most might cower before the sound, Marcus had the weapons and his personal Praetor Suit, a gift from his late friend.
He came upon a clearing, finding a group of kids fighting what looked to be a.... giant black scorpion, One, wielding a pair of gun short swords, flew back toward him, yelling.
"Drew! Cade! Get the stinger!"
"What do you think we're doing, Venterez?"
Marcus caught Venterez by the scruff of his neck, sending a rocket burst into the scorpion's stinger, the beast turned toward its new adversary as the Demonic Reaper advanced, hooking his Meathook into the creature's faceplate and blasting it in the eyes. He leapt off, glancing back at the three teens,
"Names and objective. Make it quick"
"Drew Quilern, Cade Fezhkirk, and Porter Venterez." The three replied in succession, "We need to find a way out of these woods." Drew added.
"Then let's get the fuck to it, stay close."
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After a while...
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"Team VZQC (Viz-quick) huh?" Marcus mused, "I'm gonna take a walk, I need to process."
"Be safe!" Porter said, "Sure P, I'll be safe."
He walked through the halls, coming up to the roof after a minute and inhaling the night air.
He moved to the railing, glancing over the skyline of what was called Beacon Academy For Hunters and Huntresses.
"Will, I'm sorry." He whispered, walking away and snatching a loose stone tile, drawing his arm-strapped Doomblade and inscribing an epitaph,
"This tile marks the empty grave of William Joseph Blazkowicz the Third, a fighter, a comrade and a brother."
He took a dead branch and lashed it to the tile, driving it into the earth. He sighed, laying William's helm, one of the only momentos left that he had, onto the makeshift tombstone.
"Paying respects?" A voice asked, deep and calm.
"Yeah, a good friend of mine... you don't mind if I light one in his honor?"
"Be my guest, Mr. Qwint."
Marcus slid the visor of his own helmet down and lit his cigarette, the brief flash of orange lighting up the darkness like a torch. He sighed quietly, smoking quietly with Headmaster Ozpin at his shoulder.
"I'll be sure to give him a proper headstone, you have my word."
"That's too much to ask of you. I can't..."
"Get some sleep, Mr. Qwint, you need it."
His cigarette now a stub, he threw it in the trashcan and walked back to his dorm, slipping into his bed and drifting off.
YOU ARE READING
A Demon's Stripped Wings.
AdventureA side story to my one on FF.net called "The Slayer's Disciple" it follows Marcus Qwint as he experiences his climbs his way out of his own depression
