After being flung into a world where Hell never invaded, The Doom Slayer and his AI Vega must navigate through this new world of Heroes and Villains. Overwatch must deal with the Hellwalker and his violent methods as well as the demonic threat that...
Vega's voice crackled through the Slayer's helmet as the barren desert of Texas stretched out before him. The relentless pursuit had led him here, in search of Jesse McCree, a crucial link to the rest of the scattered Overwatch members he needed. Time was of the essence, and the Slayer knew he needed to find Mcree fast.
As he trudged along the desolate road, a sudden commotion caught his attention. A police chase unfolded just nearby, sirens wailing and tires screeching. The target of their pursuit was a ballsy thief, recklessly maneuvering on a stolen bike, burdened with stolen cash.
The Slayer's instincts kicked in, recognizing an opportunity to secure a useful asset. With precision honed through countless battles, he quickly knocked out the unsuspecting thief by sticking his arm out. This clotheslined the thief so bad, he was knocked out on the spot.
Before the police could apprehend the fallen robber, the Slayer disappeared into the shadows, leaving behind a confusing scene. The stolen money remained untouched, but the thief's hat, jacket, gun, and bike had mysteriously vanished.
Now donning the stolen attire, the Slayer blended into the Texas landscape, concealing his true identity behind the thief's garb. An orange visor added an extra layer of anonymity, obscuring his features from prying eyes.
Vega's voice cut through the silence once again, acknowledging the Slayer's drip.
Vega: Fitting choice of disguise, Slayer. Now, I've managed to locate Mr. McCree.
The Slayer just barely pays attention to the directions given to him by Vega. Now, the Hellwalker took little interest in things that aren't t relevant to ripping and tearing through demons with a few exceptions like the action figures of himself and rock music .
This bike was one of the exceptions.
He immediately started to tricks on it and wondered what it would take to have something like this back in his home universe. He spent the rest of the drive doing wheelies, cranking rock music, and breaking the speed limit.
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After a few hours of driving, they make it to a nearby bar. They walk in and everyone states at the Slayer. They don't say anything as they don't seem to recognize him. The Slayer walks up to the front of the bar. He stands in front of the bartender.
Bartender: So what are you looking for?
The Slayer projects a little hologram on his forearm showing a picture of Jesse Mcree. He shows it to the bartender.
Bartender: Yeah it seems like everybody lookin' him nowadays. He's worth a lot of money to a lot of people. If I knew where he was I wouldn't be standing here talking with you now.
The Slayer turned around to leave the bar. Right as he was about to head onto his bike, he saw something going on. About 15 people were all pointing they're guns at one man in a cowboy hat. He looked just like the man they were looking for. The Slayer approached with his newly acquired Big Iron on his hip.
