Double Or Nothing: A Coin Flip Away

Sixty Seconds to Betrayal

The Vizier stood planted in the center of the gaping maw of a fossilized nightmare, Cynthia bound and gagged in twisting, smoking gray vines. In one hand, vines and thorns glowed beneath their torn red sleeves. In their other hand, The Vizier held a large and deadly pistol with gears and glowing gold energy coursing through its exterior. The barrel tilted across the chamber, locked on the rigid outline of Shrap and his frozen stance. Shrap coughed, fixing his tie and patting down his sides. "What the-I mean, wait, how did you get down here?" He started, but The Vizier snapped out, their maw rearing from the dark void beneath their hood.

"Back away, Sinner. You shouldn't be here." Shrap gambled another step forward. "But "here" is where I always find myself, huh?" The Vizier sighed, their golden eyes dripping with swelling gold droplets. "I meant for none of this to happen. My people, I sought to keep them safe, so I used the jungle's ancient whispers, their guidance to distract them with lovely floral scents and scenery. But," The Vizier grumbled, turning to the large colosseum wall and the large, fossilized jaws of a prehistoric beast, long frozen in ice, "I never expected for this to be the ugly truth to the flower's lies." Shrap tilted his head past The Vizier, puzzled. "What are you-!"

"The rift you're trying to shut down isn't in the Living World, it's here, in this abandoned memorial to a false deity. The rift is the source of the jungle's power, and if we destroy the rift, we tear down the walls keeping everyone in Gluttony safe." Shrap paused, tapping his chin. "Ookay, so can you lower the-!" "Nope. I know what you'd do if I did." The Vizier pulled back the hammer of the strange pistol, pointing its claw-like barrel at the Sinner. "This pistol rips its enemies apart atom by atom. Once it senses organic matter, it tracks the source until there's no more energy." Shrap lowered his hands to a sloth's pace, his emotionless mask deep in thought.

'Well that sucks,' he contemplated, 'but there's gotta be a way to get that pistol and free Cynthia simultaneously.' Seeking a moment to gather his thoughts, Shrap tilted his mask to the large beast frozen in stone and ice behind The Vizier. "You said that thing was a false deity? What did it do to deserve this cold grave?" The Vizier, blinking for a moment, turned to the statue with their hand, and the pistol, outstretched. "This large creature, I'm sure you guessed, is aquatic. It once roamed Sloth's frigid seas, with skin so cold it would burn you worse than fire. But when Legend was created, it-wait, you're just-!" "'Fraid so, kid!!"

With a rocketing punch from two hands twisted around each other, Shrap launched forward, slamming The Vizier into a large ice chunk behind the imprisoned Cynthia. As the scientist struggled to break out of her bonds, Shrap ripped a tommy gun out of his suitcase, aiming at the ice surrounding The Vizier. "Sorry pal," he winced, squeezing the trigger. Bullets chipped through the ice, collapsing the pillar on the robed deity with a sickening crash and a shower of ice chips. As the dust settled and the vines retracted from Cynthia's sleeves, Shrap hefted the Demoness into his arms, glancing around the cave in a blurred mask motion.

Cynthia tugged at Shrap's sleeve, puzzled by his rapid movement. "Shrap? What's wrong, you beat The Vizier," she started, but Shrap, tilting his brim up, shook his sorrowful theater mask. "I know deities, Cynthia. They won't stay down for long. Now c'mon, we gotta shut that rift down now!" Shrap took flight, leaping across the room onto the steps leading into the frozen skeleton's mouth. Cynthia hopped down beside him, snapping her fingers into handfuls of fire. "The Vizier said this giant skeleton was the rift source. How do we bring it down?" Shrap opened his briefcase, tossing a gatling gun and some ammunition to Cynthia.

"You think you can make those hands of yours into some useful guns and blast this thing apart?" Cynthia nodded, curling her flaming palms into the rotating barrels of a gatling gun. Swallowing the ammunition drums whole, Cynthia shuddered with a ferocious insanity in her eyes. "Ooh yeah," she snarled, "that's the spirit." Shrap, holding the sci-fi pistol in his bottom right hand, glanced back at the ice pile. The rocks had been broken apart, leaving a deity sized hole in the center. "Doc, move!!" Shrap roared, shoving his friend away as vines slammed into the Sinner's stomach. Shrap struck the stairs hard, dropping his briefcase.

Cynthia leapt into the air, sprouting wings from her back with her hands pointed at the skeleton. As she opened fire, The Vizier extended their other hand, sending carnivorous blades of ancient floral beasts flying through the air at the Demoness. "I refuse to let you two rip this apart! Gluttony must prosper as the last safe haven of Hell!" Choked by vines, Shrap pointed the pistol at the source of his tomb of vines, blasting the plant apart. The vines shrieked and crumbled into glowing dust, freeing Shrap who rolled to his side as The Vizier slammed down a wall of vines behind him. On his knee, Shrap aimed the pistol at The Vizier, wincing.

"It has to be this way, Vizier," he gritted, squeezing the trigger. As an arc of white hot energy soared across the temple, striking The Vizier square in their chest, Cynthia stopped firing at the skeleton, her eyes wide with surprise. "You got him!" she exclaimed. Shrap lowered his arm as Cynthia landed beside him. Retracting her gun arms, Cynthi glanced at the wriggling pile of robes and scriptures. "Wait, are they still alive?" she whispered. Shrap passed the pistol over to Cynthia, stepping toward the mound. As he peeled back the red cloth, Shrap's mask widened with shock. "I'd be surprised, if I didn't see this coming," he forced from his mouth.

Removing the cloak revealed the harsh, grooved edges of emerald scales and a coiled serpent's head behind large gold glasses. "So you got me," it grumbled. From the large black tail emerged a shining green suit and tie. Its suit, mirroring Lucifer's, was studded in beautiful gold beads with dollar sign cufflinks. Cynthia cropped her pistol in shock. "Beelzebub," she gasped.