Unlikely Bonds

ORIGINALLY WRITTEN: April 2026

SUMMARY:

[This is a ficlet inspired by my partner and I’s current hyperfixations; In this AU, the original demonic lore Vendetta built off of, inspired by the side character Alu from Faith: The Unholy Trinity, bleeds into the harsh realities of the status of Hell within the modern Doom Trilogy. Through considerate trial, Jashera and Alu are romantically involved with one another… and others… there is a giant polycule going on behind the scenes.]

The descent into Hell was going according to plan.

Every member of the Armored Response Coalition was working expeditiously to combat the growing threat and continue pushing back toward the reclamation of Earth. Much of their progress thus far was in thanks to The Slayer thinning out the horde, though that didn’t slow the roll as they were off to mitigate other pressing matters. Oh, no—The fact they had The Slayer on their side was enough to inspire countless coalition members to give it their all. Jashera was no exception. Day in and day out, she did her best to make sure communication efforts across mobile bases and temporary encampments were flawless. There was a small issue with this, though…

As the coalition’s forces pressed further into Hell, she couldn’t help but worry about her boyfriend—at least, one of them. Much to everyone’s dismay, he was a former Legate of Hell’s grandiose army. Royal drama ensued, the throne was usurped, and he was now the Legate of Hell’s rebellion; it was admirable work, really! It was just that, to many of the men and women Jashera worked alongside, a demon was a demon through and through. And, come the day they can seize the realm, he would fall alongside the rest of them, whether by blade, by hand, or by fire. And as the coalition’s forces pressed further into Hell, reports of specific locations became increasingly familiar—ruins he had told her of while recounting the days before the conflict, pathways that were once hidden to all but a select few, so on and so forth.

It was only a matter of time before he was blindsided while on a mission, and there was only so much she could do to stop it. Little did she know, though, it was her who would be blindsided this shift.

As the communications chatter died out, Jashera passed along her notes to another operator and opted to take a brief lunch. A quick trip down to the mess hall to refresh herself and refocus on the mission. As she’d passed by one of the interior corridors, she came to a halt as a giant figure came to stand before her. Looking up with a bewildered expression, she saw it was none other than Dr. Samuel Hayden. And even with the lack of distinctive facial features, she could feel the disappointment dripping from his cogitator. His stance shifted as he spoke; a brief courtesy to keep the conversation among themselves.

“Do you have a moment?” Clearly rhetorical; she would if he had a say in it. “I've heard some… interesting rumors floating around about you, Miss Cordova.”

Her heart sunk. It was bad enough it could barely beat on its own, but the sudden shortness of breath made her dizzy. Her skin paled and she felt dangerously warm. The most she could do was clear her throat and straighten her posture. After all, it was better to fake it ‘til you made it, right?

“There’s… likely a few, Sir. You know my medical history better than anyone—I’m sure people wonder—”

“This has nothing to do with… that. What I’m curious about is why you're with him.”

The emphasis told her all she needed to.

“I… Sir, since when do you care about interpersonal affairs?? That’s not—”

“Since I learned you weren't just fooling around with a demon. No, you've been fraternizing with a Fallen."

Right, that. It wasn't a good look, sure, and she could understand Dr. Hayden having his particular reservations given his status as The Seraphim. Still, though. It wasn't any of his business, and she knew the story. Even if she didn't believe in it the same way that many of her coworkers did. Where the Abrahamic texts were foundational for them, they were a curiosity for her. Coincidences mirrored in reality, really. She sighed and folded her arms, shrinking into herself.

"... And? I know what happened. He already told me the story—and I've heard your side, too, you know. The great plan to usurp divinity and the Great Deluge to purge the world of the Nephilim—I don't mean to offend, Dr. Hayden, but you're so wound up about it."

There was a dangerous shift in his mechanics, but Jashera pressed on. Her voice grew more pointed.

"Look, Dr. Hayden... I respect you. You've helped me a lot—more than I could ever even think to repay—but you just... You can't tell me who I can and can't be with. I know what happened. I know what and who Alu is. You're—You're my boss, not my dad."

The cyborg leaned in closer, stepping forward and lowering his voice further. Even in the machine-driven trills, there was notable ire.

“He is a monster. The very reason Humanity even finds itself in shambles. If not for that beast and its conspirators, you would not suffer as you do now.”

"What—You have no right to say that!" The sentiment was delivered louder than she anticipated, but perhaps that worked in her favor. Seeing a few heads turn in her peripheral, she dug her heels in.

"Even if it was true, it was your God who punished Humanity. You create these beings, put them in a garden, and tell them not to eat when you give them the capacity to starve—I don't even believe in the stories, but anyone could see the hypocrisy in that! I'm... I'm not looking to get into some philosophical debate. I'm here because I want to save lives, and my point still stands—You're not my dad. I don't have to listen to you or your opinions on my personal life."

There was a pregnant pause. More people began to listen in as she, according to some, would blaspheme the very entity who saved them from this invasion. To those who knew the truth of Dr. Hayden’s existence, she would become the proverbial snake. To those who didn’t know, she was an outcast all the same. Taking note of the situation, Dr. Hayden adjusted his posture and sighed.

When he spoke, he carried an eerie calmness.

“Except you would be wrong.”

Jashera’s eye twitched and she squinted. “I’m wrong about what, exactly?”

She wasn’t met with an immediate response. Rather, a strong, metallic hand grasped at her forearm and attempted to lead her to the empty conference room just to the side. When Dr. Hayden grabbed her, she tensed and shrieked.

“LET GO OF ME! WHAT THE FUCK?!” Muscles clenched as she violently thrashed, eyes widened with panic and a dangerous pain creeping into her chest. Her breaths were shallow and rapid, leaving in rough, trembling heaves.

Now, everyone’s attention was on them. There was no escaping it; Dr. Hayden let go, watching as the woman stumbled back and had to catch herself on the wall.

“You wish to make a scene? Fine.” His arm returned to his side. “You’re wrong about me not being your father. Is that what you wanted everyone to hear?”

“I…” A sudden wave of nausea caught her tongue. She pressed her lips together firmly and leaned against the wall as all the color drained from her skin.

That was… impossible. Surely. There was no way that could be true. Jashera knew her father her whole life—at least what little life she had alongside her parents. Him and her mother were madly in love. There’s no way she would have gone behind his back like that; she wasn’t that kind of woman, but Dr. Hayden seemed to be that kind of man. There was a distinct callousness in the way he treated others, regardless of their proximity to him. People—mortals—were expendable to him, so it wouldn’t matter. Trembling hands reached toward the conference room door, only to be cast aside as Dr. Hayden reached to open it. With a weak glare, she slipped inside and found herself with both palms pressed against the table. He moved to stand on the opposite side, stature the same as it always was. Stiff. Straight. Unbothered.

“Are you finished with your outburst?”

Her knuckles whitened.

“Finished… with… What right do you have?!” Her palms raised and slammed back down, the thud just audible through the glass. Even if the conversation became muffled, it would be very clear to those in the office that a serious argument was taking place. “You have some fucking nerve!”

“I am simply stating the truth—”

“No!!” Tears began to well, and she felt like she was choking with every word she forced out. “You’re a liar! You’re a stubborn, egomaniac jackass who doesn’t care about Humanity! You only care—”

She coughed harshly, nails scratching at the table as she doubled over. Her vision began to blur as tears fell, and the Argent crystal in her heart began to activate. She panted heavily, bouts of spittle falling from her lips between each, rugged breath. If she didn’t calm down… Dr. Hayden watched her intently.

“You only care about yourself! Your mission, your people! That much is clear with the things you allowed Olivia to do. If you cared about Humanity, I wouldn’t exist. Not like this.” She raised a trembling hand to clutch at her chest as a twinge of pain shocked her. “You… Fuck. You.”

“I am not here to justify myself to you,” he began, his tone indecipherable, “You’re the one who chose to go down this path with your outburst. You think something like this would escape a Fallen like Alu? There is already a vested interest in you—he cares for your ability to harness the Argent. You are a weapon to someone like him. And when—not if—he learns of your origins? What do you plan to do then? Talk sense into him? This conflict started as a means to dismantle Heaven and Earth. This includes you, more than you would like to admit.”

Jashera glared at him. He continued.

“Whether you believe me or not doesn’t matter. Your mother and I—”

“Don’t… talk about her…”

“Your mother and I made an agreement. She would have you, and you would never know me. Things became… complex, when your parents enrolled in the Transference Program. Even more so when you became the only surviving candidate. Still, what presumed responsibility I would have for you was irrelevant—You survived. You showed that there was still hope for Humanity to defend itself."

Wordlessly, Jashera pulled out a chair and sat down. Only her shuddered breaths filled the silence between his words.

“And now, things grow more complicated now that you willingly throw yourself to such… vermin. Would you really undo everything that has been worked toward for frivolous pleasures? For lust?”

Her gaze finally left his, and her expression became indecipherable as she reached to wipe at tear-stained cheeks. As she attempted to regulate herself, a vibrant, angry blush spread across her features, clinging to the puffiness beneath her eyes and highlighting that now silent rage. When she finally did look at him again, it was with an all-too familiar expression. In her eyes was that tearful, defiant gaze Alexandre Cabanel captured perfectly in rich oil pigment. An intense sorrow that rivaled that of Lucifer's when he was the first to be cast from Heaven. She stood from her seat, grasped the lanyard around her neck, and wordlessly lifted it over her head.

With one last, disgusted look, she threw it down onto the table between them and stormed out of the offices, avoiding the gazes of passersby as she made her way to the building’s exit. Lunch would have to wait, it seemed.