Diablo Chronicles Episode 7: Aidan's Victory and the Dark Wanderer

This is a fan narrative rewritten based on the events of the original game. Character emotions, dialogue, and scene atmospheres have been reconstructed, and it contains major spoilers.

The Heart of Hell and the Betrayer's End

Beyond the deep underground of Tristram Cathedral, Aidan and his companions finally set foot on the threshold of Hell. With every breath, the stench of sulfur pierced their lungs, and a heat that threatened to scorch their flesh weighed heavily upon them. At the end of this labyrinth where blood-red lava flowed, they finally stood face-to-face with Archbishop Lazarus, the source of all their tragedy.

Lazarus, who had once served the Order of Light and enjoyed King Leoric's deepest trust, had degenerated into a demon's minion consumed by madness. His eyes gleamed with a lost sanity, and a grotesque smile hung on his lips. Looking at the betrayer who had driven his father mad and sacrificed his young brother, Aidan could not contain the boiling rage within him.

Lazarus mocked them, muttering incomprehensible incantations upon the altar. He shouted that his new master had already awakened and that their paltry salvation was utterly meaningless. Around the altar lay the scattered remains of countless innocent lives he had sacrificed for the ritual, adding to the sheer horror of the scene. Moreina fought back a wave of nausea.

Jazreth sensed the dense aura of dark magic emanating from Lazarus's body and gripped his staff tightly. The once-holy archbishop's prayers had transformed into a horrific curse that summoned demons, echoing along the cavern walls. Red eyes gleamed in the darkness as succubi and hellhounds began to close their net around them.

Aidan had no reason to delay any longer. He had descended into this very hell for a single purpose: to avenge his father and rescue his brother. Raising his shield and letting out a heavy battle cry, he charged into the demonic horde. His sword sliced through the air, severing the neck of a hellhound, scattering black blood across the scorching floor.

Moreina's arrows pierced the darkness, striking the succubi precisely in their hearts and between their eyes. Unleashed with agile movements, the arrows cut off the enemies' breath like living beasts of prey. Jazreth poured down flames and lightning, clearing a path for Aidan to advance. The perfect coordination of the three heroes made even the legions of Hell falter.

As the demons' defensive line collapsed, Aidan leapt straight toward Lazarus. The archbishop tried to raise a barrier in panic, but a sword strike fueled by pure rage could not be blocked by magic. Cold steel shattered the barrier and plunged deep into Lazarus's chest. He stared down at his own breast in utter disbelief.

Coughing up blood as he collapsed, Lazarus burst into a grotesque laugh even in his final moments, declaring that the Lord of Terror had obtained a physical vessel. Leaving behind a cursed testament that their victory was merely the beginning of ruin, the betrayer finally drew his last breath. Aidan caught his ragged breath and turned his steps toward their final destination, where an even deeper darkness lurked.

Steps Toward the Lord of Terror

Lazarus's death was not the end, but a signal flare announcing the start of the true nightmare. Leaving the archbishop's corpse behind, the three heroes' steps felt as heavy as lead. As they drew closer to the deepest heart of Hell, an overwhelming aura of terror settled thickly in the air, making it difficult even to breathe, gnawing away at their very souls.

Aidan was plagued by bizarre whispers burrowing into his mind. They conjured up the illusions he feared most right before his eyes, attempting to break his will. Illusions of his mad father, King Leoric, spewing curses, and the screams of his brother Albrecht echoed in his ears. Aidan bit his lip, enduring solely on his single-minded determination to save his brother.

Moreina also struggled desperately to maintain her composure. In the unseen darkness, she suffered from the illusion that the vengeful spirits of countless dead were reaching out to grab her. The weight of the lives taken by her arrows seemed to press down on her shoulders anew. Feeling her fingertips tremble slightly as they held the bowstring, she forced herself onward.

Due to his sensitive perceptions, Jazreth felt the waves of evil magical energy filling this space more acutely than anyone. The aura emanating from the Lord of Terror was chaos itself, completely shattering the systems of arcane magic he had spent his life studying. To avoid losing his sanity, he constantly chanted defensive spells, striving to protect his own mind and those of his companions.

At last, they arrived at a massive cavern shimmering with red light. Atop an altar made of bones in the center crouched a demon of a horrific form they could not have even imagined. Red, thorn-covered skin, massive horns, and burning eyes that pierced the soul. It was the manifestation of Diablo, the Lord of Terror, who had previously existed only in legends.

As Diablo rose, a tremendous roar echoed, seeming to vibrate through all of Hell. The sheer sound brought an oppressive pressure so terrifying it felt as though their hearts would stop. Sulfurous flames leaked from the demon's maw, and his massive claws threatened to grind solid rock into dust. Faced with this overwhelming presence, the three heroes raised their weapons.

Suppressing his fear, Aidan was the first to step forward. No matter how massive and horrific the demon he had to face, he could not retreat when he thought of his brother trapped inside. Firmly bracing his shield and raising his sword high, he let out a defiant challenge. Moreina and Jazreth also assumed battle stances, backing him up.

The Lord of Terror looked down upon the mortals with amusement and spat forth horrific flames. The fires of Hell swept through the entire cavern, threatening to swallow them whole. Jazreth hastily erected a barrier of ice to block it, but the wall melted in an instant, billowing steam. Seizing the moment of chaos, Aidan charged through the flames, and the final battle began.

The Desperate Struggle Between Mortal and Demon

The battle with Diablo was a desperate struggle that tested the very limits of mortality. Every time the demon's massive forepaw sliced through the air, the ground gouged open, and rocks shattered into shrapnel flying in all directions. Aidan barely deflected the merciless attacks with his shield, looking for a counter, but the bone-rattling impacts made him feel as though his arms would tear off.

Moreina ran tirelessly across the battlefield, seeking Diablo's weak points and letting loose her arrows. Though the arrows embedded themselves in the demon's thick hide, they were insufficient to inflict a fatal wound, serving only to provoke his wrath. Hellish lightning unleashed by the demon struck beneath Moreina's feet, and she barely threw herself out of the way, rolling onto the dirt floor.

Jazreth drew upon the absolute limits of elemental magic to attack Diablo. Massive chunks of ice and fierce pillars of fire struck the demon's body, but the Lord of Terror remained unfazed, as if absorbing the very magical energy. Feeling his mana running dry, Jazreth was overcome with despair. At this rate, it was clear they would all perish.

What tormented them even more than physical attacks was the mental terror injected by Diablo. Before Aidan's eyes appeared an illusion of Albrecht weeping tears of blood and resenting him. His brother's sorrowful voice, crying out that he had ended up like this because his brother was too late, tore Aidan's heart to shreds. He shook his head violently to dispel the illusion.

Seizing upon that split second of hesitation, Diablo's massive claw slammed into Aidan's breastplate. With a tremendous impact, Aidan was thrown backward and crashed into the wall. Coughing up blood as he collapsed, his vision blurred, and excruciating pain washed over him with every breath. Diablo approached slowly to deliver the finishing blow to the fallen warrior.

At that moment, Moreina squeezed out her remaining strength and shot an arrow toward Diablo's eye. The arrow lodged deep within the demon's red eye, and Diablo recoiled with a horrific shriek. Jazreth also gathered his last reserves of mana, striking the wounded area with a powerful bolt of lightning. The devotion of his two companions bought Aidan the time he needed to stand.

Suppressing the agony of his broken bones through sheer willpower, Aidan stumbled to his feet. There was no longer any fear or hesitation in his eyes. There was only a resolute determination to strike down this horrific demon. Casting aside his shattered shield, he gripped his sword tightly with both hands. The blue light emanating from the blade shone amidst the fires of Hell.

The moment Diablo recovered from the pain in his eye and charged fiercely once more, Aidan met him head-on. Just before the demon's attack could connect, Aidan ducked low, slipping into his embrace, and thrust his sword upward with all his might. The cold steel blade pierced the thick hide, passed through the chest, and drove deep into the heart. A death rattle that shook the foundations of Hell echoed through the cavern.

The Horrific Truth and Shattered Hope

His heart pierced, Diablo gasped for breath in disbelief and staggered. Red flames spewing from the wound scattered in all directions, and his massive body slowly began to collapse. Drenched in the demon's blood, Aidan tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. Finally, with a thunderous crash, the Lord of Terror fell to the floor.

As Diablo fell, the entire space of Hell began to convulse. The demon's massive body scattered like burning paper, turning into red ash and emitting a bizarre light. The horrific horns and thorn-covered skin melted away, and the truth hidden within was beginning to reveal itself. Aidan's heart sank with an ominous premonition.

Where the red mist cleared and the demon's husk vanished, there lay not a giant monster, but the small, fragile body of a young boy curled up. Skin turned to ash, and limbs withered and thin. It was Prince Albrecht, the young brother Aidan had searched for so desperately. Deeply embedded in the boy's forehead, a horrific red Soulstone pulsed and flickered.

Aidan stood in a daze, doubting his own eyes. The sword slipped from his hand, hitting the floor with a dull clatter. Dragging his trembling legs, he approached his brother's side and fell to his knees. He cupped his brother's cold cheek with his blood-stained hand, but the boy had long since drawn his last breath and did not stir in the slightest.

The horrific truth—that the sword he thrust had pierced not the heart of a demon, but the chest of his young brother—shattered Aidan's sanity. He clung to his brother's corpse and wailed like a wounded beast. The lamentation echoing from the depths of Hell was more agonizing than any demon's shriek. Moreina and Jazreth could not bring themselves to approach the devastating scene.

The victory he had yearned for so deeply had returned as the most cruel form of defeat. His father had died mad, and his brother, turned into a vessel for a demon, had lost his life by his own hand. Aidan stared into the void with empty eyes that had lost everything. He could hear the noble faith and hope of a knight who wished to protect the world shattering into pieces within his chest.

As he wallowed in a swamp of grief and despair, Aidan's gaze locked onto the red Soulstone embedded in Albrecht's forehead. Emitting a crimson glow, the stone began to burrow into the most vulnerable cracks of Aidan's mind. Aidan instinctively realized that the evil energy of the Lord of Terror was swirling inside the Soulstone, waiting for its next host.

Aidan reached out with a trembling hand and carefully pried the cursed stone from his brother's forehead. Once the Soulstone was removed, the body finally seemed to find peace, but the red stone held in his hand began to throb even more intensely. Grotesque whispers swirled in his ears, urging him toward an irreversible, horrific choice.

The Horrific Curse Borne by Himself

The Soulstone pulsed in Aidan's palm like a beating heart. The whispers emanating from the stone echoed solely within Aidan's mind. It subtly manipulated his grief and guilt, tempting him with the notion that he, with his strong willpower, was the only one capable of containing and controlling this horrific evil. Aidan stared at the burning stone.

If this cursed stone were left as it was, another innocent victim would surely arise. He believed he could not allow someone weak like Albrecht to become a host again. Aidan's mind was warped by despair and self-righteousness. He made the fatal misjudgment that with his strong willpower, he could contain and control the Lord of Terror within his own body forever.

Sensing the ominous shift in Aidan's demeanor, Moreina rushed forward. She urgently cried out that he must discard the stone immediately, calling it a demonic object that would lead to ruin, but Aidan did not budge. Jazreth, also seized by a dark premonition, backed away while preparing a defensive spell. Their pleas no longer reached him.

Aidan slowly raised the Soulstone to the level of his face. The red light cast a grotesque hue over his pale features. He deceived himself into believing this was an atonement for his deep guilt over failing to protect his brother, a noble sacrifice to save the world. With a resolute expression, he aligned the sharp tip of the stone with the exact center of his forehead.

"I will bear this evil," he muttered in a hoarse voice, and without hesitation, drove the Soulstone hard into his forehead. With a horrific cracking sound, crimson blood flowed down his face. Though the agony of tearing flesh and crushing bone enveloped his entire body, he did not even scream. The stone burrowed deep into his skull, as if it had always belonged there.

The moment the Soulstone was fully embedded, Aidan's body arched like a bow, and a tremendous storm of magical energy swept the surroundings. The powerful shockwave sent Moreina and Jazreth sprawling onto the floor. The blood pouring from the wound turned black in an instant, and his skin lost its vitality, staining to an ashen gray. It was the moment the Lord of Terror welcomed his new host.

The painful convulsions ceased, and Aidan slowly raised his head. His eyes were no longer those of a human. Gleaming with a blood-red light, his eyes were empty yet harbored a horrific malice. The aura he exuded was suppressed ruin and terror itself. Within his body, the Soulstone slowly began to consume his soul.

Moreina and Jazreth could only watch the scene in sheer terror. The despair that the victory they had risked their lives for was ultimately nothing more than a stepping stone to breed an even greater catastrophe weighed heavily upon them. Without a word, Aidan picked up his sword and, leaving his brother's corpse behind, took heavy steps into the darkness of Hell.

The Secret Tryst in the Shadows and the Conceived Tragedy

Tristram was swept with joy as it welcomed the heroes who returned alive from the labyrinth of Hell. Believing the demonic threat had ended, the townsfolk toasted all through the night. However, Aidan stayed away from the noise of the festival, hiding in the deep shadows. Beneath the hood pulled low over his forehead, the Soulstone flickered with a red light, exuding an ominous energy.

Within Aidan, a ceaseless struggle was taking place. The Lord of Terror gnawed at his mind, constantly whispering of destruction and slaughter. Aidan tried to drown out the voice with alcohol and herbs, but to no avail. In his extreme isolation and mental agony, the only place he found solace was the hut of Adria the witch, located on the outskirts of the town.

Unlike the others, Adria did not fear Aidan's transformation. Rather, she seemed to see right through to the massive dark power residing within his body. She brewed strange herbs to ease his pain and wore a secret smile, as if she understood the terror lurking inside him. Drawn by her bizarre tranquility, Aidan visited her dwelling night after night.

A strange and dangerous current flowed between the two. It was not an emotion like love or affection, but closer to a secret communion between a wounded beast and a predator seeking to tame it. Adria indulged in the demonic energy Aidan harbored, while Aidan escaped into her embrace, which allowed him to forget the whispers in his head, if only for a moment.

One deep night, in Adria's dark room where only a single candle flickered precariously, the two faced each other in silence. The ominous red mist leaking faintly from Aidan's forehead cast a grotesque hue over Adria's pale face. Far from fearing the darkness, Adria accepted him with eyes full of a bizarre obsession, and Aidan sought to forget his pain for a brief moment in her embrace. Neither the agonizing warrior nor anyone in the village could have ever guessed what seed of tragedy was growing within this secret and ominous union.

The townsfolk did not care to speak of Aidan's frequent visits to Adria's hut. Sympathizing with the trauma the hero had suffered, they tried to turn a blind eye to the truth. Only Deckard Cain sensed the ominous energy radiating from Aidan and watched him with a worried gaze, but even the old scholar could not fully fathom the depth of that horrific truth.

As time passed, Aidan's condition worsened. He screamed in the grip of horrific nightmares every night, and during the day, he crouched in dark corners, avoiding the gaze of others. His skin turned pale as a corpse, and deep shadows fell around his eyes. The peace that had come to Tristram was as precarious as thin ice, and an unseen terror began to consume the town once more.

Adria sensed that Aidan had reached his limit. Feeling the pulse of life conceived within her womb, she foresaw that a horrific disaster would soon strike this town. Without informing anyone, she quietly began preparing to leave. The moment Aidan was completely consumed by the darkness, Tristram would once again transform into a bloody hell.

The Shattered Sanity of the Heroes

While Aidan crumbled in his struggle against the demon within, his companions were also suffering from horrific aftereffects. The festive atmosphere of Tristram brought them no comfort. The overwhelming terror they had witnessed in the heart of Hell and the miserable death of Albrecht had left deep, indelible scars upon their souls.

Moreina, the rogue of the Sisterhood, suffered nightly from hallucinations of corpses rising to resent her. Falling into a morbid obsession with death, she wandered around graveyards and conversed with the dead, shocking the townsfolk. The gaze of the woman who had once been the most exceptional archer was gradually staining with a cold, cruel, blood-red hue.

Moreina eventually returned to the Monastery of the Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye, the home of her order, but her soul was already damaged beyond recovery by the terror she had witnessed in the abyss of Hell. She wandered the graveyards every night, listening to the voices of the dead, and when Andariel, the Maiden of Anguish, later invaded the monastery, Moreina was the first to succumb to her malevolent influence. Once the finest archer of the Sisterhood, she ultimately degenerated into a corrupted entity known as 'Blood Raven,' becoming the tragic figure who desecrated the graves of the sisters they had once sworn to protect.

The fate of the mage Jazreth was equally tragic. He had become fascinated by the backlash of magical energy he experienced during the battle with Diablo and the malevolent aura emitted by the Soulstone. He lost his sanity, becoming fanatically obsessed with forbidden arcane magic and demon summoning. His pure thirst for knowledge had transformed into a madness driving him toward ruin.

To seek greater power, Jazreth left Tristram and headed east to the desert city of Lut Gholein. There, while unearthing the secrets hidden within the Arcane Sanctuary, he would eventually succumb entirely to the whispers of demons. The once-great mage was destined to degenerate into a madman known as the Summoner, becoming the seed of disaster that summoned countless demons.

The fall of the three heroes was cruel proof of how fragile human will truly is. Those who believed they had defeated the demon were, in truth, mere pawns caught in a massive trap laid by the Lord of Terror. Even though Diablo had lost his physical form, he was completing the most perfect form of vengeance by planting terror and despair deep within their souls.

Aidan could take no action even as he watched his companions go mad one by one and leave the town. His mind was already so filled with Diablo's voice that merely maintaining his sense of self was an overwhelming struggle. He despaired as he looked at his hideous reflection in the mirror. The Soulstone embedded in his forehead was threatening to pierce through his skin and sprout like a grotesque horn.

Finally reaching his limit, Aidan realized he could no longer remain in Tristram. The moment he lost control and slipped out of the town, the ruin he had feared became reality. As soon as the Wanderer set off, the seals beneath the Cathedral shattered completely, and the legions of Hell poured onto the surface. The peaceful town was instantly engulfed in flames, and amidst screams and shrieks, houses collapsed, completely destroying Tristram. Clad in a thick cloak, having become the Dark Wanderer, he walked silently toward the desolate road, leaving the horrific destruction of his burning homeland behind him.

The Wanderer Heading East and His Follower

Leaving Tristram behind, the Dark Wanderer began a journey without a destination. Wherever his footsteps fell, an ominous energy seeped in, and the earth withered away. Suppressing the constant urges of destruction surging within him, he moved his heavy steps toward the east. In the east, unknown lands where Diablo's brothers were sealed called out to him.

After walking for days and nights, the Wanderer took shelter in a shabby tavern in the desolate wilderness. It was a bleak night with wind and rain howling. In a corner of the tavern, a man named Marius crouched, steeped in strong liquor and hallucinogens. Marius, who was barely scraping by having lost all hope in life, felt an instinctive dread at the grotesque appearance of the Wanderer who entered through the door.

The Wanderer sat in a corner seat, silently bowing his head. He trembled slightly as if suffering from unseen agony, and a red light leaked from beneath his hood, casting erratic patterns on the floor. Though trembling with fear, Marius was seized by a bizarre attraction and could not tear his eyes away. It was like the instinct of a moth flying toward a flame of destruction.

At that moment, the power of Diablo suppressed within the Wanderer began to run rampant. As the Wanderer twisted his body with an agonizing scream, the air inside the tavern froze in an instant. The wooden floorboards shattered as the fires of Hell surged upward, and horrific demons erupted from the shadows, beginning to tear the people apart.

Screams of people and the sound of crushing bones filled the tavern. Marius hid under a table, covering his ears and shivering violently. Watching the horrific slaughter unfold before his eyes, he wished he would lose consciousness instead. Yet, strangely, the demons left Marius untouched while brutally slaughtering every other living soul in the tavern.

Once the rampage ended and the flames subsided, the Wanderer caught his ragged breath and stood up. Though the tavern was covered in blood and flesh, the Wanderer walked toward the door with indifferent steps, as if nothing had happened. Marius crawled across the blood-soaked floor, staring blankly at the receding back of the Wanderer.

By any rational judgment, he should have fled in the opposite direction immediately. Yet, Marius's legs moved toward the door the Wanderer had departed, regardless of his will. The massive darkness and agony borne by the Wanderer had planted a strange illusion of salvation in Marius, who had lost all meaning in life. With stumbling steps, Marius pursued him through the pouring rain.

The Dark Wanderer knew of Marius following him but left him be. Thus began their bizarre and ruinous companionship. Behind their footsteps advancing toward the storm-swept east, the shadow of a horrific catastrophe was cast. The hope left by the hero of Tristram was shattered, and the world had to face an era of true despair.

Sources Consulted

Diablo I Official Manual

Official Blizzard Chronicle: The Tragedy of Tristram

Official Quest Data: Diablo II Act I

Official Quest Data: Diablo II Act II

Official Quest Data: Diablo II Act III

Official Quest Data: Diablo II Act IV

Official Quest Data: Diablo II Act V

Official Diablo I Storefront: GOG

Official Diablo II: Resurrected Storefront: Battle.net