A marvelous display had occurred.
Firstly, he had not needed to deliver the death-bringing blow he thought he would. Secondly, the demons. And, well, thirdly, the demons.
Quite a couple of people had risen to the challenge of slaying the behemoth of a monster: one gattling toting lady, and a man, searching for his God. Tomas couldn't quite place his finger on him. Had he seen him at the temple before? The Church, perhaps? He brushed it from his mind, deciding that it could wait until the beast had been moved off the streets.
He hopped, skipped, and leaped off the building. Before he touched ground, he spun in a circle, raising a ring of dust as he touched the torn asphalt. Standing, offering no word of his whom-abouts, he walked over to help move the massive deadweight.
Which was when the sky exploded.
The bell tower vaporized, aside from the bell which liquefied, raining molten copper on the stragglers walking below. A shockwave ran forwards, and Tomas stumbled. Instinctively, he grabbed his katana, twirling the jeweled blade up and around his body. Tomas' vision reeled. He shook his head once, twice, thrice, before his eyes stopped swimming. He looked up towards where the bell tower had been and saw a sight of terror.
Demons ran forward from a portal of sorts. Grotesque beasts that dwarfed the thing they had been fighting emerged from the doorway. A loud ringing echoed in Tomas' ears and his vision darkened as he continued to gaze upon the picture, as if his senses deadened from its presence. It was intoxicating, and hard to draw away from. Especially for a man of such faith as Tomas.
He did it though. A mental heave and he was free to look forwards. Forwards onto the first wave of demons that had rushed forth.
Tomas lunged, moving like a thunderbolt upon the first Satan-spawn he saw. He cut clean through, Hope carving through demonflesh as if it were but beef. Quickly, slashing left then right, he felled the two that had eagerly attempted to avenge their brother. The Walkers of Hell filled the streets now. Screams of despair filled the air. Shouts of pain bellowed. Woe to Midgar.
A whole wave fell on him, moving forward in an awkward but noticeable unison. He cut a long slice, running diagonally from one wall to another. A glowing blue-white trail hung where his sword went. He pushed out with an open palm and the gleaming line shot forwards. Where it touched, demons died, or as close to death as they encountered. Heat washed over him, his power surging from his body.
Tomas frowned. He knew the front-members of the Demon-horde were weak, but he had expected more. Perhaps Her Gloriousness had prepared him for this. Still, he couldn't help but think: "Minerva, My Lady, give me strength. If I am to resurrect you, I will need as much as I can get."
*** *** ***
Tomas had effectively held the backs of the group. He noticed that more had joined them since the bell tower explosion. A choked scream gurgled from the mouth of the last demon that had tried to take them from behind. He assessed himself quickly, taking account of the scratches and bruises that adorned his body. Nothing serious. Nothing, really.
Then the laughter started. It was mad, manical, crazy, insane. Something otherwordly, something supernatural, something demonic. So it seemed, at least.
Tomas turned, slowly, gaining his measure of the things. A pyramid of demons, a writhing, living(is it called life in the Seven Circles?), mass; and atop a cackling jester. There was a magnitude to him, that despite his comical appearance, he was powerful. Which was demonstrated very shortly.
"Reginald is sick of you guys! Why kill my spawn?! Reginald's friends did nothing to you!"
The voice bounced off the air. It was quiet now, Tomas noticed. Deathly so. As if the Promised Land was the deepest Void. It was unnerving, considering the chaos of the battle just previous.
"Reginald feels like you guys will enjoy this since of you enjoy killing Reginald's friends!"
That probably wasn't good. Pointing Hope at the clown, he took that brief moment to summon the energies to blast him in fire.
But aborted. In the next fraction of a second, he was in a theater room with the rest of the people.
"Yo anyone here?"
Tomas replied, "Yeah, man, I think we all are. Hear the breathing?"
He sighed, and kicked the ground as he waited for everyone to gain their bearings. That jester-king was powerful indeed.