Authors note: hello this is my fist fan fic so please read and review let me know any criticisms and I (might) take them into account. This story is set a few weeks after the events of the game so if you haven't played the game you may not fully understand everything in here.
The sun shone a blood red over the remains of Lionwhyte's pleasure palace, caught in the broken mirrors scattered about the area, the light refracted into the now silent fountain making it look like a pool of blood. Since the war had ended the Ironheade army had left the place to rot. Occasionally a stray Head-banger or Razor-girl will wonder into the area to scavenge for booze or other knickknacks, but for the most part the area was left alone.
A crunching sound of boots on mirror shards disturbed the silence that had filled the air. "So this is what became of the Great General Lionwhyte," came a dark, threatening voice, "crushed under his own vanity." The figure wandered over to a broken effigy of the former ruler, there were various scribbles across it mocking the former General.
The man was dressed in all in black in a military styling; he wore a mask to cover his face that was fastened by three belts at the back. As he stared at the statue his three other companions walked around behind him inspecting different pieces of rubble. There weren't that many differences between them. They were all dressed very similar to the first but there were slight differences in their uniforms and the masks were completely different according to the individual.
"What do you make of this then Mister Zero?" said the first questioning his companion with a skull like mask.
"I don't think much of the place, but it will do once we redecorate."
"Yeah Lionwhyte never did have a good sense of style," said Mister Six smashing a mirror, "No wonder he got his ass handed to him, he was too busy looking at himself all the time."
The others chuckled at this remark. Mister eight finished his study of the statue and turned to Mister Seven whose eyes glinted out from his metal death mask.
"Do you mind playing something to lighten up the place for us?"
Seven's eyes gleamed with delight as he walked over to an abandoned amplifier that had been left by some Head-bangers during the war between Ironheade and the Tainted Coil. He plugged in his black guitar into the ancient relic and struck a cord. The noise reverberated round the ruins and eventually faded to feedback as the amplifier began to twist and reform from the dark powers that were emanating from the guitar. It became bigger and louder as the noise grew in volume becoming possessed by Seven's power. Happy with the tone and the volume that the dark amp provided he began to play a screechy, dark, and heavy solo that shook the walls of Lionwhyte's former palace. Dark clouds fell across the sky and as the man played he laughed and screamed with glee over the power of Dark Metal.
Deep within the bowels of the earth the Guardian of Metal felt something stir within his heart. Something wasn't right the world, the order and peace that had fallen across the world of metal was about to be shattered. "Fucking 'ell!" he shouted "not again!"
Eddie Riggs sat at the shrine that had been erected for Lars since Doviculus' demise and the last battle. He often sat there with just his thoughts for company; this was how he liked things out of the spot light and out of the way. "You know what buddy," Eddie directed to the shrine, "I don't mean too be all stoic and every thing but…" Eddie hesitated trying to find what he wanted to say. Instead he simply smiled and nodded his thanks and turned away from the shrine. Since his arrival in the world of metal Eddie's life had gotten a lot better if a lot more complicated. He walked out of the Graveyard of Hero's and got into the ever-faithful Deuce. Ever since the tour had ended Eddie had felt that he wasn't fitting in that much. The bombshell of being the son of Succoria, the white winged death scourge of humanity, weighed heavily on his heart. Since then he had been driving without much of a purpose, sightseeing and soul searching the roadie wanted answers the various questions that plagued his mind. He started up the engine of his faithful steed and made out towards the beach party north of Bladehenge. Suddenly the Deuce gave a massive roar and started driving in the complete opposite direction. "Whoa whoa whoa!" Eddie screamed shocked by this sudden change in the car. The Deuce lurched forward at an alarming rate towards an unknown destination to Eddie. A massive engine block loomed in the distance with a skull and cross bones decorating a grill like door. Putting two and two together Eddie regained his composure and floored the gas driving straight into the motor forge and into the earth's core and the Guardian of Metal's lair.
The tires gave a screech as Eddie applied the breaks skidding to a halt. "Yo Guardian of Metal!" he shouted.
The black clad emissary wasn't in sight. Eddie heard footsteps coming from behind him and turned. "Ello," came the Guardian's cheeky reply.
"long time no see son of Riggnarok."
"Any particular reason as to why you summoned me?"
The Guardian's look was grave. "Walk with me will ya?" Eddie complied following the guardian down a path from the platform. "There is something wrong Eddie, a disturbance in the world,"
"What do you mean?"
"You know about the titan's and all that bullshit about the demons right?"
"Well the titans had their own enemies right, their own problems man,"
"Well there was a faction of the titans that went bad man, I mean really fucking bad," the guardian stopped in front of a wall with various pictures on it depicting the history of the world.
"The gods decided to keep this part out of the history books," the guardian explained.
Note: narrators voice from here on in
Long ago when the ancient beings known as titans ruled the land and the age of metal was at its peak, there was discourse within the titan's rule. A small group of titans wished to explore the differences within metal and experiment with radical new ways of producing a louder and heavier tone. The other titans didn't like this idea and tried to sway these radicals from their ideas by having a concert and getting them so drunk that they would forget the whole thing. However the group, known as "The Nine" met in secret and started working on new versions of their beloved metal. Forging new guitars and amplifiers and experimenting with other materials that the titans had yet to use. Thus the powers of dark metal were born. The other titans eventually found them out and a savage battle ensued. The dark ones power was immense but the titans eventually managed to defeat them. Stripped of their powers The Nine were banished from the lands of metal forced to wander the world each bound by a different mask and as powerless as the humans that would soon inherit the earth.
"So your saying that the titans fought amongst themselves, and eventually kicked these dudes out of the gig, and now thier back?" Eddie questioned the Guardian.
"Pfft if beating ass is all you wanted me to do why didn't you say so?"
The Guardian's became very serious.
"Understand this Son of Succoria," the staccato of the insult was a low blow to Eddie "Doviculus and his nampy pampy demons are nothing to the powers of Dark Metal,"
"Whoa easy there, no need for the insults," Eddie held up his hands to show that he understood the gravity of the situation.
"So what are we dealing with exactly?"
"Nothing good I'm afraid," the guardian gave out a sigh, "nothing good at all."
Eddie realized that there was nothing more to talk about and made to leave.
"Before you go," the guardian said, "get every body you can to bear arms and pray most importantly pray to the metal gods for help."
Eddie nodded smiling and made his way back up the path towards the Deuce, thinking to himself "We are gonna need a bigger bus."