The complete megahit game that set the world afire. Plus All-New Episode IV: Thy Flesh Consumed.The demons came and the marines died. Except one. You are the last defense against these hell-spawned hordes. Prepare for the most intense mutant-laden, blood-splattered action ever! The texture-mapped virtual world is so real, you don't just play DOOM - you live it.The Ultimate DOOM takes you beyond anything you've ever experienced. First, you get all three original episodes - that's 27 levels of awesome, explosive excitement. Then it really blows you away with an all-new episode: Thy Flesh Consumed. Now you're dead meat. Just when you think you're getting pretty good at DOOM, you get hit with Perfect Hatred, Sever the Wicked and seven other expert levels never seen before! They're so incredibly tough, the first 27 levels will seem like a walk in the park!
An episode replacement for Doom Episode 2. So 9 levels. see description for Story.
THE STORY SO FAR...
It's the year 2112.
You're "Nuts" Kelton, crack mercenary, swift as hell and twice as
tough. Name your price and you get the jobs. You've been to most of
the scorched spots on Earth, as well as flareups on the Jupiter moons and
the far side of Kladskar. You've been in complete control of every
situation, every time.
Except, at the moment, you're Nuts Kelton, crack mercenary,
floundering on a rubber raft somewhere in the dark Caribbean night after a
freak storm...
###
In the dim pre-dawn air, Kelton pulled the raft from the foaming
water and collapsed on the gray sand of Cleimos Island. "Jesus," he
thought, eyeing the empty raft, "that damned storm took everything 'cept
me 'n' you." He touched his side, underneath the wetsuit, checking the
single pistol and several clips of ammo. "Lucky thing I didn't toss these
babies in the supply box."
He rose and looked around--nothing but naked beach and scraggly
vegetation. He knew from the maps that a dense jungle lay further inland,
as well as small snow-capped hills.
"Snow," he thought. "In the Caribbean." He shook his head. What
a goddam mission...
In the murky light, the sand was beginning to take on a dull red cast.
He knew that when the sun reached its peak, the sky would be stark, raving,
shitass red, an after-effect of the Moray Storm twenty years earlier. Red
sun, red sky, even a red friggin' ocean. "Christ," he thought, as he
removed the wetsuit, "I need to find a ticket off this planet. The moon,
Alpha-7, Mars, whatever."
He dropped the wetsuit into the raft and headed north, into the
brush. The maps had shown an outlying transport station in that
direction, and the transports were the only way into the compound. Keeping
low to the ground, senses alert for anything, he slipped through the
undergrowth, which was already tinged with red from the rising sun.
"Well, maybe not Mars," he thought. "Too much damned red shit
there, too..."
###
"Something's wrong at Cleimos," Connors had said.
They were in Connors' office. Kelton stared hard at the other man,
wondering why he'd been called back from Singapore just when things were
getting interesting.
"Get down there and check it out," Connors said, tossing him a file.
"Clean it up yourself, or let us know what we have to send in."
Kelton opened the file and skimmed through it. The Cleimos
corporation ran an island training compound in the Caribbean, catering
to anyone who could pay, to anyone who had a thirst for combat, to anyone
who needed hands-on training with advanced weapons and tactics. He
flipped through several pictures of scientist-types standing next to
complicated machinery. The word DOOM jumped out at him from several
glossy brochures. "Shit," he said to Connors. "Looks like a buncha
babies run this place. Bet a buncha babies fly in there, too."
"Shut up and read," Connors said.
Kelton tossed the file back at him and said, "Screw the file. And
screw you, too, Connors. Just tell me what I need to do."
Connors sighed, looked briefly at the ceiling, and said, "A few years
ago, Cleimos built this place using new technology in the field of
holographic projection. The idea was to give armies and mercenary-types
somewhere to train that was tough on them, but wouldn't kill them."
"What's this DOOM crap in the brochures?"
"Back in the twentieth century, Virtual Reality was just getting born,
and one of the earliest commercial efforts was a computer game called DOOM.
It was just a game, but it took hold for several years, was followed by
another game--more extensive than DOOM--called QUAKE, and then, just about
the time we hit the millennium, QUAKE was followed by ONSLAUGHT. *That*
was the turning point. Breakthrough technology and breakthrough gaming
caused a mass exodus from reality. ONSLAUGHT rippled through the
population like a bad drug, and after four years, it had caused so many
problems that governments around the world stepped in, banned it, and
eventually succeeded in wiping out all traces of it. That single act--
governments cooperating at an unprecedented level to purge ONSLAUGHT--set
up the World Order we know today."
"And Cleimos?"
"I guess the folks down there dug around in history a bit and came
up with this DOOM angle, the thing that started it all. They hired the
best minds in holographic technology, built the complex, and WHAM!"
"How come I never heard of Cleimos?"
Connors looked down at his desk and pressed a button. "Well," he
said, "you've been out of touch for a while."
Kelton leaned forward and looked at him. "What're you talkin' about?
I've been back on Earth long enough. I would've heard about this place."
"Forget it," Connors said. An aide appeared at the door. "Get
Kelton whatever he needs," Connors said. "He's going on a trip."
"Wait a minute," Kelton said. "You haven't told me what's *wrong*
down there yet. I ain't no goddam mechanic. I don't know nothin' about
holograms! Can't those weanies fix their own shit?"
Connors put both hands on the desk and leaned toward Kelton. "What's
wrong, Kelton, is that whatever safety devices these people installed--you
know, stuff to keep the visitors from getting hurt--have apparently broken
down. They don't work worth shit any more. Three days ago we picked up
some transmissions from a bunch of guys screaming that the holograms had
become self-sustaining, and were blowing away the paying customers, not to
mention the staff. I sent in a team to give me some first-hand
intelligence, and nobody showed at the pickup point. I have to assume
they're dead."
"So I'm it, huh?"
Connors waved Kelton toward the door. "You're it. Go in, shut the
place down. If these things are running around under their own power, I
don't want 'em wandering off. If I don't hear from you in 24 hours, I'm
just gonna nuke the whole setup."
Kelton paused in the doorway. "Wait a minute. Why don't you just
save me a trip and nuke it now?"
Connors cocked his head and stared at him. "You think about that
for a while and I'm sure you'll come up with the answer..."
###
Kelton found the helicopter pads first.
There was no one around--at least no one still alive. There were two
pads, and it looked like a Victor-7 had been trying to lift off one of them
when it was hit by something big--really big. Scorched bodies littered the
pad in all directions, and he could still feel the heat coming off the
twisted remains of the chopper.
He followed the walkway toward the main set of buildings. Still no
signs of life. He edged into a low, flat building with a shredded WELCOME
banner still strung across its entrance. Something had blown a hole
through the far side of what looked like a reception area, and through it
he could see white transports sitting on their tracks, waiting to carry
visitors into tunnels that led to the island's interior.
Something growled, and Kelton turned toward the sound, pulling his
pistol from its sheath. The sound had come from a hall to his left, and he
slid along the wall in that direction. He peered into the first room he
came to, and caught sight of something big and pink disappearing through a
blast-hole on the far side of the room. "What the hell was *that*?" he
thought, moving to the opening and carefully scanning the thick jungle
growth outside.
Nothing. Whatever it was, it had disappeared.
He turned back into the room, and moved quickly back to the reception
area. "Enough of this crap," he said out loud. "Let's get your sorry tail
down to the main event." He made his way to the transports, keeping an eye
out for anything that even *hinted* it was pink...
He scrambled into the nearest transport, found the controls, and
kicked on the power. Overhead lights came on, and the transport began
to hum. He scanned the controls, hit a button marked MAIN STATION, and the
transport started moving, quickly picking up speed. The windows filled
with passing green, then black as the transport entered an access tunnel.
A few moments later, speakers in the transport came alive with the most
godawful elevator music Kelton had ever heard. Then the music faded,
giving way to a nauseating droning voice...
"Welcome to Cleimos."
"Welcome, yourself," mumbled Kelton.
"If you know your destination environment," the voice said, "please
proceed to that access hall, directly off the main gallery. Please have
your yellow keycard available."
Kelton patted his pockets. "Seems I left mine home," he said.
"If you need help deciding which environment is most suitable for
you, please proceed to the information desk at the end of the main gallery.
A host there will assist you.
"If your skills need touching up, you may wish to proceed to the
ADVENT environment, directly on your left as you enter the main gallery.
"We hope you have a pleasant stay. For the continued health of our
guests, we ask that you refrain from smoking or other substance abuse."
The music came back, and Kelton laughed. "Jesus," he said. "What a
load of horseshit..."
The transport began to slow. The tunnel walls, visible through the
side windows, were no longer a blur. Kelton began to see the sharp angles
of the charcoal-like substance lining the tunnel.
He checked his pistol and ammo supply, and started for the front
of the transport.
"Here we go," he said...
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