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The Third

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The eyes of the lion head carving started glowing eerily.

The Marine glanced around, alert. He spotted a backpack on the ground, identical to the ones he had spotted earlier in his journeys. A large lunky leather bag full of ammunition. The Marine quickly grasped at it, and it quickly faded out of existance, and it's contents materialised in his own pack of ammunition. "FOUND A BACKPACK FULL OF AMMO!" the readout on the Marine's helmet blared, triumphant. He didn't pay attention, as the walls started lowering. Ready to fight for survival, the Marine quickly wiped a small fragment of some previous opponent's skull off his trademark Double-Barreled Shotgun.

Click! The wall retreaded into the ground, revealing an arena of sorts. Standing proud on pedestals, were four grotesque parodies of obesity, their morbidly loose flesh quivering with every movement. Mancubi. As one they turned to the green stranger, and rained heavy fire down upon him from their arm-cannons. With all the poise of an ice-skater in it's element, the Marine slid out of harms way, retaliating with two barrels of fury. The blast was aimed well, splattering a mutant's belly across the nearby arena. It gave a last groan, and fell to the ground, skin melting off it's bones. With the falling of one of their own, the remaining monsters turned and looked at each other, a fury on their faces. One waddled over to a switch - one that the Marine had never seen before - and almost smirked as it pounded the button with it's arm cannon.

Suddenly, the outer walls opened earlier than expected, revealing a militia of brain-creatures on their arachnoid mechanical platforms. Gleefully having finally caught their nemesis unawares, they marched in and opened fire. Caught by surprise, the Marine ran for his only salvation, pushing past a Mancubus as he went. Finally, he stopped running, a large grey chunk of death at his feet. The UAC Labs BFG. Oddly enough, this wasn't the 9000 model the Marine was completely accustomed to, but a prototype. The Marine simply assumed this arena was formerly a UAC Lab testing station before the invasion, grabbed the weapon, aimed, and depressed the trigger.

The blaster started beeping. Signals went off. Read-out monitors on the device went berserk. The helmet's heads-up display warned of increasing levels on unknown energies. And then it happened.

The Marine was enveloped in a bright flash of white-hot plasma. The sound alone sent Arachnotrons running for cover behind their flabby companions, their blub still quivering from the shockwave. A split second later, the plasma subsided, and the Marine heeded the call of gravity, landing in a heap. He dusted himself off, and realised he felt... different. He felt more athletic, more flexible, younger than ever before.

Most importantly, he suddenly realised, he was no longer flat.

He looked up and saw the demons just staring at this stranger. He swore he saw a Mancubus take a nervous step back. The Marine cracked a smirk, for he was no longer just a mere Marine. He was walking, talking three-dimensional death. A polygonial shotgun messiah.

He was The Third. He was Doom.

With a battle cry and the unleashing of a sleek assault rifle, Doom ran towards the monstrosities. A Mancubus launched a massive fireball from it's metallic arms. With the athleticism of a drugged up Olympic hurdles champion, Doom leapt clean over the fireball, launching into a cartwheel and landing in a prone position, opening fire on the beasts with his assault rifle. The Arachnotrons buckled under the pressure of high-density bullets slamming into their walkers, sending them splattering into the dirt. With what could only have been the demonic equivelant of a cry of "Shit!", the Mancubi turned tail and ran. Doom merely caught up with the bulky beasts, and beat them to death with a faulty flashlight.

As the smoke and dust cleared, Doom reflected on his day. There had been a lot of anomalies this session. The monsters were growing smarter, the weapon arsenal was expanding, and the BFG... Doom would have to examine it's source code.

As Doom strolled merrily amongst the splashed remains of the hellspawn, only one thought was present in his mind, one idea that would lodge there all day...

"I have to play this sourceport more often."

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