The Horsemen - Conclusion

For all reality's complaining, the real fight had yet to begin. That, when it happened, would be swift, no matter the winner. What was happening at this moment was more of a test, a psycological chess game, each player quietly probing the power of the other, searching for some crack, some miniscule opening that would allow a quick strike to finish the whole affair. King's Pawn to King Four. Pestilence's probe skittered along the outskirts of Sam's mentality, seeking some chink, some breaking point in the metaphysical armor which surrounded the other Horseman's being. The others circulated around the edges, waiting for the first sign of weakness. Uriel had yet to join in. This was something for the Old School, not for any young upstart, no matter what the Powers said. Sam countered each probe coolly, not betraying the slightest sign of weakness. Yet. This match could last for seconds, for hours, for weeks at a time, if need be, but for players as old, as experienced as the Horsemen, a hundred moves could take place in the space of an eyeblink. It was infinitely more complex than chess, and far older. Far, far older. Queen's Rook x Queen's Rook 6.

Chakos' arrival was a complete surprise to everyone, so involved were they in the Game. His black-clad form rose out of the darkness of a back hallway as only a tall, anime-looking man in a black trenchcoat holding two wooden stakes in his hand can rise up out of the darkness of a back hallway. He smiled. "Hey, listen, I hate to intrude, but I was just wondering exactly what you all are currently doing in this reality. Just investigating, that's all. And what are you planning to do with him?" He nodded towards Sam.

Pestilence looked at the human with a confused, wry expression on his face. "We're going to kill him, of course." He paused for a minute, then reconsidered. "Well, actually, we're going to drain his power, then confine him to the Abyss, but the end effect is the same, so why bother with symantics."

Chakos nodded, using the long, slow nod of someone who isn't quite sure he heard that last correctly. Since working with the Guild, that too had become a common action of his. "Ooookay. Well, I'm afraid I can't really let you do that. So, if you'll just stand aside, then we'll all get along just fine."

Skin flaked and peeled off of Pestilence's neck as the Horseman turned his head to stare straight at the defiant human. For a brief instant, his attention was divided, a tendril of his mind snaking out towards Chakos. It was not obvious what he intended, but whatever it was, it wasn't going to be nice.

In that divided instant of time, Sam acted. The Scythe spun through the air, its blade glimmering blue in the overhead lights. It was aimed carefully, precisely. In short, it was NOT aimed at Pestilence. Reality twitched. A groan filled the room, and approxomately one hundred twelve tons of solid omnium steel crashed down upon the Horsemen, splinters of metal flying through the air at high speeds. When the dust cleared, the floor was peppered with bits of razor-sharp, broken metal, to the point where it would have been impossible for anything short of a tank to cross it without having its feet ripped to shreds by the improvised caltrops. It was covered, that is, everywhere except for the a circle, approxomately five feet in diameter, centered around Chakos. Inside that range, the ground was so clear a two-year-old could have walked across it with ease. There was a perfectly circular hole, about twenty feet across, in the cieling. Sunlight filtered down through it. About twelve stories of the W.A.R. Center were currently resting on top of the Horsemen.

The metal began to surge and roll as the Horsemen exerted there will upon it. Sam glanced around. They didn't have much time. He walked carelessly over the rubble-strewn ground to Chakos, metal slivers disintigrating before they could touch the hem of his robe. In a moment, he was standing next to the human. THANK YOU. WE MUST LEAVE NOW.

"Ummm... You're welcome, I guess. It looks like you took care of them, though."

NO. THEY ARE JUST... TEMPORARIALLY INDISPOSED.

The investigator's eyes widened. "You mean they're still alive under all that?"

Wordlessly, Sam motioned towards the pile of steel and furniature. The entire tower was shaking left and right. Large chunks of cieling had already tumbled off the pile.

"Damn." He spoke the word in a tone of voice part curse, and part awe. "Who are these guys?"

THE HORSEMEN OF THE APOCALYPSE.

Chakos blinked. Well, he reflected, that was sort of the answer he had been expecting, but it's two different things to expect something and to hear it straight out. Khazan. Everything had to be tougher, didn't it? "Ah. Can we out-fight them?"

Sam looked him up and down, then glanced back at the pile of rubble, which was now visibly lurching from side to side. I DON'T THINK SO.

"Can we outrun them, then?" He waved in the direction of the stairs.

NO.

Chakos sighed, then put out his hand. "Well, let's see if we can take some of them with us." It was a shame he hadn't gotten a chance to tell Crow how he felt before this, but he was pretty sure the Guild would keep him on as an employee even after death. They were apt to do that.

I DO NOT BELIEVE THAT WILL BE NECESSARY.

"Well, if we can't fight them, and we can't outrun them...."

THAT IS CORRECT. By this time, the pile had been reduced to half its former height, and was shrinking rapidly. LOOK, IF WE DON'T DO THIS NOW, WE WILL HAVE TO SEE HOW MANY OF THEM WE CAN TAKE WITH US.

"Do what?"

Sam grinned. TAKE MY HAND. The human was a bit reluctant to clasp the skeletal fingers, but that didn't stop him from doing it, especially if the choice was between shaking hands with a skeleton and standing up to the Four Horsemen of the apocalypse. As soon as Chakos was secure, he slashed with the Scythe. A hole vanished in the cieling directly above the pair.

"So, we're going to fly out, then?"

NOT EXACTLY. With a twist of his wrist, he adjusted the angle on the Scythe, slashing first at the building walls, then at the floor below their feet. GOING DOWN.....

"What the..." Chakos looked down. "Oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-"

KOMBG W.A.R. Center, Floor 28

"-iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-"

KOMBG W.A.R. Center, Floor 19

"-iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-"

KOMBG W.A.R. Center, Floor 6

"-iiiiiiiiiiiiiii-"

KOMBG W.A.R. Center, Floor 1

"-iiiiiiiiiiiiit!!!!!!"

A black and grey blur slammed into the ground with the force of a sledgehammer, creating a very large dent in the omnium steel floor. At virtually the same time, the building shook with a resounding thud which rocked its very foundations. It was a testimony to the tremendous skill of the KOMBG engineers that it stood at all. A lesser building would have collapsed under the structural strain of floors 31 through 50 collapsing on top of it. Sam was quite proud of that touch. It would take his former partners quite some time to dig their way out of that mess. Due to the whole he had punched in the cieling before removing the structural supports, only a few small fragments of the upper floors rained down oin the pair. Carefully, Sam withdrew his hand from Chakos' grip. OKAY. He grinned. THAT WILL HOLD THEM A WHILE.

Chakos took a moment to regain his balance. Perhaps some things WERE worse than teleporting with the Guild. He stared at the skeleton, his crazed eyes wide with astonishment. "HOLD them?! That'll HOLD them?! What the hell did you think you were just doing?"

Sam's eyesparks glittered as if he was unsure whether this was a trick question or not. I REMOVED THE STRUCTURAL SUPPORTS FOR THE UPPER TWENTY FLOORS, CAUSING THEM TO COLLAPSE ON TOP OF MY CHALLENGERS.

"No, I understand that much. Since when was falling twenty-nine stories-"

THIRTY-ONE.

"-falling thirty-one stories an acceptable means of escape?"

The other grinned. JUST NOW.

"That was a rhetorical question!"

Sam sighed. LOOK, I'D LOVE TO STAY AND ARGUE ABOUT THIS ALL DAY, BUT THEY'LL GET THEMSELVES OUT OF THAT IN A FEW MINUTES ANYWAY. DO YOU WANT A LIFT, OR NOT.

"My car-"

HAS BEEN CRUSHED BY FALLING MASONRY.

"What?!?!" First the map, now the car. Skual was not going to be happy. This afternoon was starting to make even Scorpio's look normal by comparison.

I'LL GIVE YOU A LIFT, IF YOU WANT.

"A lift? On what, a horse?"

NOT... EXACTLY. He lifted two, bony fingers, and stuck them in his mouth. Somehow, without lungs or lips, he whistled. Well, at least, he did an approxomation of a whistle.

A distant rumbling filled the room, causing small, loose bits of steel on the ground to do a marvelous impression of the Jitterbug. In a matter of seconds, the rumbling grew to a roar, and then the far wall burst apart in a shower of sparks. As the dust settled, Chakos could just see two lights gleaming like the eyes of a wild beast. When the air was clear, he saw what it actually was: a massive, white Harley-Davidson hog, motor purring loud enough to make his ears hurt.

Sam crossed the room and mounted the bike with the ease of someone who had done it millions of times in the past, and planned to be around to do it millions of times in the future. He turned his skull to Chakos. I LIKE TO TRAVEL IN STYLE. CLIMB ON.

The investigator did so, wrapping his hands firmly around the other's robe. Sam's hand hesitated on the gas. OH, BY THE WAY, MY NAME'S SAM.

The human was almost numb, but managed to reply. "Chakos."

The white motorcycle rolled off into the afternoon sun.

Some time later, amid the rubble of KOMBG W.A.R. Center #456....

Four motorcycles hovered in midair in exactly the way humankind generally believes motorcycles should not hover in midair. To make it worse, these four had riders. Looking at the riders themselves would make it so bad that your average rank-and-file human would go temporarially insane. One of them spoke.

"Damn. He is more resourceful than I had anticipated, and without the support of the Powers, no less.

Uriel sounded like a child whose favorite toy had been taken from him. "I could feel it! I could feel his power! When will I get it?"

Beneath his helmet, Pestilence smiled, the beginnings of a plan starting to form in his mind. "Soon, Archangel. Soon."