FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I dedicate this book to

Stephon P. Walker

The real Walker, Prince of the moon.

Table of contents

Chapter 1 Change

Chapter 2 Track 1: Phantom Reign

Chapter 3 Dusk

Chapter 4 Track 2: I walk Alone

Chapter 5 Blood

Chapter 1

Change

Seven years have passed, the world has become a new strange place. Battles once fought in shadows between hunters and demons now pour over into city streets. Monsters now walk the streets by the light of day and pretend to be average men and women. The monsters even have a voice in the courts, Senator Laurence Walker.

Hell is coming, and everyone knows it. However, what is one to do? The loudest 'Fuck You' most of America can come up with is to do nothing, act as if nothing has happened, nothing has changed, there are no monster, no gods or demons.

Lances Jacob finds himself chained to a table in a small gray, windowless room; a spotlight hangs overhead. Lances has a thick Saint Nick beard, his skin leathered with age and hardship his features ruff and squared like a soldier, which is as good of a description of any other. Lances clayed in the Jesuit Armor, A gray overcoat, high top boots, black gloves, and a fedora gray and worn.

The door opens. A man with black and white peppered hair similar in age to Lances walks in, but he doesn't carry himself the same, he has a sway to his step, a deviant smile, he has a green sports coat on and walks with a cane, he also has on gloves his are fingerless.

"Lances, Lances, Lances." The man in green declares as he walks in "you, my good sir have cost me a good deal of money. You ruffed up some of my best men and killed a number of my contacts. Now let me tell you, my boss, she cannot wait to see you swing." He explains "but, me on the other hand, I am the savvy type and where some see a net loss, I see the opportunity for an overhaul." Joe Dove takes the seat across the table from Lances "Now you and me, we know the type of world this is, we know how these games are played. Streetwalkers you and me, we are guildies, when the shit hits the fan, we get traded. But Charlie..."

Lances removes his glasses placing them on the table before him, his head tips with a quire gaze "What about Charlie? What does he have to do with this?"

Joe slaps the table in a huff "come-on old man! do you think I didn't read Milli's report? Worldwalkers, void worshipers, gods, dragons, the Garden of Eden. You, her, him. You think this is all by mistake?"

Lances smiles thinking he is now in a position of power "you know nothing."

Joe stands up throwing the cup of water that had been set before Lances across the room "I know everything. 'The Keys of Salvation'. Sound familiar by chance?" Joe taps his cane to the ground as he starts walking back and forth "every world has a number of keys, forged by Fate, a security measure to guaranty that sovereign worlds remain sovereign. We had 12 on our world once. I don't know how many we have left but I know that Charlie Belmond, and his son have one."

"One out of twelve, not off to a good start, are we?"

Joe's gaze shift sharply from aggressive to playful "have you ever seen a demon Lances? A full-blooded high born pit lord? I know you are the type of guy that runs with danger, so am I. If you aren't in the mood to chat with an angel may be a monster will help loosen you up some." The door silently slips open as a new beast slides in with them.

From behind Lances starts to rise a man with stretched out features, long arms, long fingers, a long face, skin that looks like burned leather, eyes loosely set in their sockets and a dozen horns arranged in a crown.

Joe ushers behind Lances "His name is England, he is my pet monster. I'll tell you, having a shape-shifter at your beacon call has some advantages." The demon England draws back one hand threateningly.

Lances punches the table standing up in a pivot to face the monster, he uses his thumb to push against the monsters scalp a bent iron nail and starts chanting in Enock, the beast rears back in pain shouting as Lances pushes it backward. Lances burns with holy rage as the monster melts to its knees cowering before Lances Jacob.

Joe shouts in a laugh "Ye Ha Cowboy! You are absolutely the hard ass motherfucker people told me that you are."

England rolls up in a ball on the ground at Lances feet. Lances turns to look at Joe Dove, "as I was saying, you have nothing at all. I could have got up and walked out that door at any time, and you would be hard pressed to stop me. You want to know about the Keys of Salvation; I know all about them. My family protected one of the keys for 15 generations. I know what they are, and what 3 words I can never speak if I want to keep it."

Joe's voice drops to a whisper "you have one?"

"Nope, I gave my key away four or so years ago."

Joe goes somber "Where are they Lances?"

***

Senator Walker steps into a hotel room after a long day's travel, the chamber he has is in every way as extravagant as one would expect for a billionaire playboy politician. Walker is tall, well sculpted, well dressed and keeps around a trio of planshifter bodyguards, a fox succubus named Krystal, a demon hound called Hetatsubachi, and a fox morph Karin.

As Walker takes off his coat Sa-la-day-namO call attention to himself as he is sitting at one of the chairs in the room reading aloud, "Hello, Sage." NamO addresses Walker by a name from an earlier life.

Walker does the same "Mathew Beljona."

"in this life, it's Mac."

"Mac, it is." Walker finds a set nearby. "most of the time when people want to talk to me they have to go through my secretary."

Mac set the book he had been reading down on the desk, 'Prophecy by Dylan Hiler', "Come on Walker; we are both guys on the move, we can't get tied up in stuff like secretaries."

Walker chuckles "I see, looks like you're a big-time rock star these days, Avatar."

Mac sets his hands on the back of his head with a knowing smile "Yeah, and you are one of the richest men in the states."

Walker points with a smirk, "and I just dropped my hat in the ring for the presidency next term." He lowers his hand to his side "assuming the world is still around."

"About that," Mac leans in his expression turning stark "Do you still have the Cruciform Dagger?"

Walkers head tips "do you mean 'the Crystluse'?"

"yep."

"I have it, yes, but do you know what that thing is? Do you know what will happen to whoever is touching it when that thing trips?" Walker folds his hands dropping his head lost in thought. "you are talking about nuclear levels of force, I don't think even you are strong enough to hold that thing."

Mac nods his smile not yet fading "I can hold it no problem, will I live through using it, that is the $64 question." Mac moves in ever closer to Walker, "where is it?"

"hidden alongside the other world destroying artifacts I have dug up. I'll have to plan a trip up to Carlton Minnesota, I can take a hike in the woods and unearth it for you, but it will take time."

Mac raises his voice slightly aggravated "the best trained, most gifted wizard in the universe and you are going to what? Take the bus cross country to go get it?"

Walker laughs off the announce "what are you suggesting? Do you want me to uncap my wings and fly?"

"would be nice, yes!"

"Why don't you?"

Mac has lost his sense of humor at this point. He leans back in his set sitting in silence for a moment "Walker, I'm losing it. Like all Tamriel, I need to sleep on the grounds which I was born to rejuvenate my divine power. I haven't been home for 30,000 or more years, I have almost no magic left. It takes almost 40 years' worth of meditation do regenerate even a fifth of my power."

Walker looks concerned "that explains why you went into hiding in the 50's. I can brow you an elixir, it won't be as good as rest, but it might give you the boost you need."

***

As Mac and Walker catch up on old times, El Driver stands in the empty addict of a nearby hotel. The old bold war-dog places a satchel on the ground and removes from it the parts to assemble a rifle. He taps the earpiece on the side of his head turning it on. He whispers into the microphone on his caller "I have arrived at the target location."

A deep feminine voice comes over his earpiece "good, look out the window facing 3 o'clock."

As El is screwing the parts of his gun together he leans out the window looking around "what am I looking for?"

"end of the block, 15 story building, floors 4-6, and 8-12 have been evacuated. On floor seven there should be two women, one man, and a dog, the women are SS against, they are expendable. The man is your target."

El sets down his rifle and picks up a pair of binoculars. "your intel is rubbish, there are two men, two women."

"Excitable collateral, take all of them out."

El steps away from the window "negative, that's not the way a surgical strike works. I have one bullet, I will take one shot and get one kill. I wait until the target is alone."

"Mr. Driver, need I remind you that I own you?"

El voices sears with anger as he shouts in a whisper at the voice on the other side "your Gestapo jazz doesn't intimidate me Ms. von Richton. I know well that you can't harm me in any way and you won't harm Nile, because you are afraid of me."

The voice on the other side of the ear peace becomes slow and aired "Mr. Driver, do not overestimate your value to me. You are an asset, one I was willing to invest in. but if you become too expensive to upkeep I can and will replace you."

El argues with von Richton "I will fall back to a minimum safe distance, regroup and plan a new diminution of attack." El cuts off his radio and throws it across the room. He takes another look at the hotel taking inventory of the people around his target. He whispers as he does "Karin? Then that must mean that Lacerti was here. Who the hell is this Walker bloke?"

Two more von Richton agents appear in the room with El shortly: Marin Duphran, a Faykin gunslinger, and Charlit Davis, a Sephcalian, something between human, cat, lizard, and bug, an alien with passive mind reading power. Marin pulls from her blue overcoat a weapon that looks like a caulking gun at first glance.

El reaches onto his hip to pull out the Eagle. Marin is; faster, Marin is heartless, soulless, she is everything El's father wanted him to be. The only thing that matters to Marin is finding her target and destroying it. El is struck between the ribs by a needle fired from Marin's gun. El's bloodstream filled with a chilling fluid, he falls to his knees gasping. "The von Richton requires your presence." Marin orders

Charlit is Marin's opposite; she is the one that feels, and care. Likely why the two of them travel side by side "you need to learn not to pick fights with people above your pay grade." Charlit kneels down next to El pulling him up to his feet.

Chapter 2

Track 1: Phantom Reign

Several days ago, Razuki Lowe, the man called N, was summoned to Russia to assist N.A.T.O. in a routine examination of a power plant. It is considered a common practice to have aan intelligence agent along almost any time politicians and litigation agents need to talk. One of his many aliases greeted Lowe, calling him Justice Law, describing him as an energy consultant. But N's real job was to see to it that no one attempted to use 'slide of hand' to buy 'favors' off the books.

In a most unfortunate turn, something went astray. An explosion triggers on the lower floors of the power plant. N makes all haste diving into the flames created by the blast searching for anyone that may have been trapped or injured, only to end up caught in a secondary burst.

In and amongst the intelligence agencies N is as well-known and respected as a spy can be. He is transferred between several medical-compounds and treated by a dozen specialist before, at last, finding his way to London.

Razuki has only one visitor in the hospital, one that uses his real name Sagata Igaruga, and interduces herself by the name of his mother, Sagata Awi. Awi waits in the hallway looking in at Razuki's room. She is a young looking girl; not even thirteen black hair pulled off the one side in a semi samurai bun, she has yellow predatory eyes and a strange musty smell hangs over her. She dresses in the uniform of an Asian university girl, blue skirt, with a matching coat and a Texas tie.

As one of the doctors steps out of Razuki's room, Awi stops him. She glances at his name tag as she grips him by one arm "Dr. Bird, what is Igaruga's condition?" Awi's eyes are hypnotic; she sees to it that Bird knows her, as if she had been there every hour of every day, she also see to it that he takes no notice of her demonic strength or her shaved claw-like nails.

"Awi." Dr. Bird looks down at the clipboard he is holding "frankly it is unexpected that he is even breathing at all. He has ventilation damage around his lunges, he is mostly unresponsive to nerve stimulus, but that is not that strange for Igaruga. If he recovers at this point, he is going to be blind. On the other hand his other condition..." Bird stops himself midsentence.

Awi digs her claws slightly into Bird's arm "Do go on Doctor."

"By all right Igaruga should have died over ten years ago. No one lives to be 25 with sato-autistic-mutagenic-disorder. There is a hole in his cortex the size of a pine cone. We don't know how he is alive at all." Bird pulls away. "I'm sorry ms. Sagata I will be back shortly."

"May I step into the room with him?" Awi ask

"Go right ahead." Bird waves her on.

***

Razuki's eyes snap open, his blood running hot in his veins. In shock of his sense of feeling returning, the young man rolls onto his side pulling his arms and legs into his chest defensively. His eyes are deep set, his hair grown out in a wild way. Razuki's body has been twisted by a lifetime of crippling illness, but it seems at this moment his pains have resided.

As it dawns on Razuki that he is well, he looks about. N is in a room with a canopy bed. A painting on the walls depicting men entwined in battles of one sort or another. The carpeting is thick and a copper red color. In the room there is a window fifteen feet tall and ten feet across covered by a black blanket, light creeps in around it, the ceiling is almost 20 feet tall in this decorated bedchamber.

The women that had called herself Awi hides in the shadows. As Razuki catches her gaze he sees past her illusions; no magic has ever fouled Razuki. "You are the phantom Ichi had told me about." His voice is monotone, hallow and confident, a shallow sadness subtly echoes in its depths.

Awi replies "I am the Methuselah Meyu Darklare." She has changed her outfit to a red and white Shinto cloak.

Razuki finds his feet "where are we? What are we doing here?"

"Cilvera Dean is the name of the town; it is in Hungary. We are here because you were dead, we needed you back."

Razuki starts to dig around in his pant pockets looking for the bag of hard candies he carries around with him. "If it is all the same to you I would like to make a phone call. I am likely needed back at..."

Meyu cuts him off "Did you miss the point when I told you, you died?"

"all available information seems to contradict that hypothesis." Razuki points out.

Meyu seeing what Razuki is doing walks over to a bowl on the nightstand taking a piece of candy walking it over. "death as we understand it is much like life, it happens in phases. Your condition had degenerated past the point in which you were treatable by earth's medicine. The Methuselah have technology not yet available to this planet."

Razuki takes the candy "do go on."

"the biggest problem was the acidity of your blood, do to your condition your blood had a negative PH. But you know that much already. To begin treating you the first step was a complete transfusion and then irradiating your bone marrow. After that, I could start adjusting your body chemical levels. There where consciences to that..."

Razuki cuts in "Elaborate."

"it is possible that part of me has imprinted on you."

Razuki's mouth drops open as he thinks "that sounds somewhat disconcerting. What could such horizontal gene transfer mean for me?"

"to the best of my knowledge, there has never been a human methuselah crossbreeding," Meyu explains.

"Hypothesize."

"possible methuselah traits you could inherit may include, enchants metabolic rate, light sensitivity, metamorphic activity..."

Razuki holds up a hand to stop her "what did you mean when you said 'you need me' earlier?"

Meyu nods "I expected you to be this to the point. You have one of the 'keys of salvation' you need to either use it or give it away."

Razuki rolls his neck stretching "Marks Karingson said the same thing. Unfortunately, I don't know what you are talking about."

Meyu smiles, "Maybe I can help you understand."

***

Charlie Belmond road his steel horse throughout the night and into the light hours of dawn before arriving at a tiny bar hidden in the desert with a sign out front that reads 'The Last Stop Before Las Cruces.' Charlie folds up his glasses tucking them into his coat as he squints at the sign "Land of the Cross." He whispers to himself.

For weeks Charlie has been riding along the Spanish American border chasing down monsters. Today he is looking for a Wereraven, somehow it has been managing to outmaneuver him, but now he is closer than ever. Charlie knows where it likes to hide at night, and knows its hunting ground, and flight path. The only thing Charlie doesn't know is where does it go during the day. But for now, he is low on gas and hungry.

Charlie turns off his bike and walks into the biker bar he has found himself before. The Bar is better lit than most and filled with a savage looking lot that one expects from biker clubs; there is Swedish metal playing on the t.v. off to one side of the bar and Charlie gets greeted by the pumping of a shotgun from the greasy looking women at the counter.

"This is a 'Hunter's club' Frankenstein. You'd better keep walking!"

Charlie throws his hands up "Christ!" he exclaims "I am a hunter!" he tries to explain

"ya? What's with the face" the barkeep points out the web of stitched up scars covering Charlie's face.

"I got my face ripped of fifteen years ago! Now lower the gun if you would." Charlie is half panicked.

A stalky looking man with glasses and a goatee in a tanned leather coat steps over. "let me take care of this joker Brook.

The bartender lowers her gun "alright Tie, go ahead and shake him down."

Another man steps up alongside the one called Tie; he is a slender man with a widow's peak and a nearly shaved head, he dresses in a hooded sweater and scarf. Charlie can see he has a pair of cat-claws hidden under his coat.

Tie acknowledging the second hunter "Neko."

"Twilight." Neko replies

Charlie lowers his hand "may I interject here? What the hell is going on?"

Tie turns his attention back to Charlie "I assume you have seen some of the more common monsters around these parts?"

Charlie nods "I assume I have."

Tie continues "have you seen the split jawed humanoids walking around with bleached looking skin?" Charlie nods "around here we call them Faceeaters, what is the best way to dispatch Faceeters?"

Neko adds on "Silver or Running water?"

Charlie looks between them with a shrug and a smile "Silver would probably do the job, I have an ax in the saddlebag of my bike, cutting off their heads seems to do the job O.k."

Tie and Neko look between each-other then back to Charlie. Neko starts the next question "the half-beast, we call them shifter."

Tie picks up "how do you deal with them?"

Neko again offers suggestions "Fire, salt."

Charlie looks to Neko "fire? Your kinda' an ass, aren't you? Shifters are just as mortal as you and I. Changelings, on the other hand, the ones that jump between human and animal at will are something else. But Iron seems to react violently to them."

Tie looks to Neko "seems legit to me."

Brook nods "Ok, I'll bartender a drink them. What do you like stranger?"

Charlie smiles as he walks up to the bar "Milk."

A biker at a nearby table yells over to Brook "Turn up number 3, Avatar is up next." Everyone seems to jump to attention on that note, it seems that everyone in the bar drops what they are doing and produce pens and notebooks as they crowd around a widescreen tv.

Charlie turns to Brook "What's going on? Who is Avatar?"

Brook speaks up "'The Avatar Awakened' they are a Power Metal band stationed somewhere in the North Center U.S. they popped up right before the shit switch got tripped. They have been sending us encoded messages for years via; photographs, posters, CD's and music videos."

Charlie is confused "but why?"

Brook hushes him "Don't care, our team needs a win and these guys are willing to lend a hand."

***

The music video starts with a handfull of flashes of footage of solders marching, a flash of light, men in combat gear jumping off landing ships and the sound of gunfire echoing, that image then contrasted with Vikings storming a beach. The music proper starts with Charisma Diego, a woman of possible Spanish Indian lineage with bright magenta hare and a tube top made of out of what looks like dragonhide taking the drums. Her first roll mimics the sound of machinegun fire.

A dervish of ash and fire erupt around her as the camera drop into a dutch angle. Charisma's bandmates flash into view emerging from the ash and flames: Lucca Wingate as the lead vocalist, Alice Poe Frog (formerly known as Ashley Jacob) picks up rhythm guitar, Sa-la-day-outmaneuver as Mac pick up base, and Tail Vixon on the keyboard hides in the back of the group.

All five-voice thunder to start the song.

"Even as Lighting shatters the ground! Harts are Howling, Artillery Pounding!"

Lucca takes the lead "the enemies of humanity gathers at the gates. Staring they bear witness to an undefeatable force. This pack of wolves show their fangs in preparation of the assaulted. Witness the coming of the phantom reign. Stand up and be counted amongst the pack.

All join in "Even as Lighting shatters the ground! Harts are Howling, Artillery Pounding!"

Lucca continues "we are the force elite, they cannot hope to defeat. We will chase them back to their caves, over rocks and snow, storm the shores, powered by blood and anger, love and rage, charge with indomitable momentum of the storm. Command the phantom reign."

All call back "We are the Lighting that shakes the ground, our howl fills the air, we strike as artillery hail."

Lucca "give no ground, offer no retreat, fight till earth is stained red, fill the seas and rivers with the dead, let them know this is our land, and we will give nothing. The pack has spoken, we are ready to make our sacrifice, for the opportunity at one final blaze of glory we freely give of ourselves."

All call back "We are the Lighting that shakes the ground, our howl fills the air, we strike as artillery hail. Even as Lighting shatters the ground! Harts are Howling!"

Chapter 3

Dusk

Joe's cane taps harshly against the ground as he walks through the halls of the von Richton estate, barely slowed by his incurable limp. Wright von Richton and two other hunters walk alongside them: Marin, and Charlit. Joe complains harshly as they walk. "It's all coming apart at the seams, isn't it? Belmond is AWAL, the Silinate is still alive, Sa-la-daynamO walks around in the open, and the Cravixs is close enough that I can feel his breath running down my neck as we speak."

Joe growls as he points his cane rounding a corner "sixty years, sixty years I have dedicated myself to protecting this world from extra planner invaders and I sure as hell am not going to let it all fall apart now. I need Walker dead, I need Belmond's whip, I need the Avatar Sword, and I need Sa-la-daynamO's blood in a cup, and I need it all before my birthday."

Von Richton wipes her glasses clean as they talk "that is to say nothing of the idea that Tail Vixon has gone rogue, as has Marks Karingson."

Joe pretends to chuckle at the list of grievances "this sure has been a rough few months hasn't it?"

Marin cuts in "do we have a plan for a counterattack?"

"yeah, we are going for Hail Marry. I have five would be superheroes at my disposal. I am going to play all my cards on the table and see what come up."

Charlit starts counting up her fingers "Marin, me, Milli, David. Who is number five?"

Von Richton points out "Richard Blake."

The door to the prison cell Blake has been rotting in for the better part of a decade slides open. Blake has been sitting in silence for most of that time; his hair hasn't grown, his physic hasn't changed, everything about him is just as it was almost ten years ago.

Von Richton walks into the room; her yellow tented glasses glow gold in the pail light. "Dick Blake, I, the horrible Wright von Richton, here by offer you your freedom once more in exchange for your services in wet work. You can except my generosity and mercy now or forever you shall be left in anguish."

The group stands for over a minute waiting for Blake's reply. Blake sits staring back, unmoving, unblinking. Marin leans into Charlit whispering "he is dead; he has to be, he isn't breathing... He is dead, right?"

Charlit whispers back "I can still feel him thinking."

Joe whispers with the two of them "he can't die, he is a Ju-on. I could melt him in molten steel, and as soon as he is exposed to oxygen, he will just grow a new body."

Charlit jokes with them "if we saw him in half would he turn into two people or would one half evaporate and reform around the other?"

Joe looks interested "We can go get a bandsaw and find out."

Von Richton joins in "I have been watching him for months, he hasn't moved from that spot since July 9th."

Blake takes a slow breath and with a silent exhale he goes from an uncanny toy to a living breathing man "It's Richard, not Dick, Miss von Richton."

Von Richton folds her hands behind her back "So then Mr. Blake. Are you prepared to set your life and liberty on the line in the name of the flag?"

Blake thinks about it for a time "What if I say 'No?' I was just starting to like it in here.'"

Von Richton doesn't miss a beat "Then I cement the door shut when I leave."

Blake stand up. "can I have my gun, the Jessy James, back? And my kopesh?"

"of course." Von Richton nods.

"and Tail?" Blake asks

"no longer with us." Von Richton replies.

"you killed her?" Blake clinches and stretches his fingertips getting his feelings back.

"Agent Vixon chose to take her services elsewhere."

"what year is it?"

"2008." Von Richton explains

"Seven years I have been in this box? And still, you and I are unchanged ms. Von Richton."

A man runs up behind the party exclaiming "Madam von Richton, Arch Cardinal Magdalen St. Frances has sent a messenger for you."

Von Richton turns to face Joe Dove. "Mr. Dove will you attend to the needs of the Jesuit?" she turns back to Blake "Have you considered your options?"

"do you have a case file for me to look at?" Blake looks form more information.

"your mission briefing will be ready to be viewed shortly. Duphrain, Davis, take Mr. Blake to the gallery. I will be joining you shortly." Von Richton and Dove walk off.

***

In a nearby room, Milli Mallaguard sits in a cot; her den is like most of the others, six feet by nine feet, a bed, a sink and a stall. Milli has many posters around her room of young boys and motorcycles. Milli, unlike her kin, has been afforded some freedoms. Milli has a short stack of books, a gunsmithing kit and she has been allowed to keep her personal 'sidearm' RONA, a long-gun too heavy for any human to lift, it is part flamethrower, part Tesla gun, and part chainsaw.

Milli has the overall look of a kangaroo. She is over nine feet long when she outreaches her legs entirely, but she typically stands crouched shrinking down to a manageable six and a half feet. One ear is missing, and she has a scar running across one of her eyes that must have ripped that eye out, the glass eye in its place is almost convincing, and that is only the scars that are visible at first glance.

Milli, as she bounces a basketball off the wall of her room, yells through the air vent to the cell conjoined to her's. "So, El, hear you are in lockup again."

Marin after having woken El up earlier today felt inclined to smack him around some, El's lip is cut open, and one eye is swollen shut, his pinky on his right hand has also been wish-boned. Rather than sending El to the med center she had just dropped off a field dressing kit and let him bandage his wounds.

El takes the razer from the box and punchers skin under his eye to bleed out the swelling, he has already tied his fingers together to patch the wishbone brake. "who wants to know." He calls back, happy to be privileged with any form of conversation.

"Agent Mallagaurd."

"yeah." El holds a towel to his face waiting for the bleeding to stop "what are you down here for?"

"being an illegal alien."

"Mallagaurd? Are you from Norway by change?" El lays down close to the air vent so he can hear more clearly.

"Stith. I am the other kind of alien. The kind from outer space, not out of town. You were just down here with me a few weeks ago, weren't you?" Milli enjoys her chat

"Yeah," El replies

"So, what happened?"

"failed to execute a target within expected parameters."

Milli's ears twitch, she catches her ball and sits up looking at the door, she can detect movement behind it. She whispers to herself "two sets of footsteps, one, flat bottoms, hard soul, a secondary click suggest they are walking with a superfluous walking stick. That is Wright von Richton. The second rubber souled boots, custom cut, leathery brush, male, he has a trenching coat on, walking in step to hide. I don't know who that is."

Milli's door unlocks, Milli reaches down to pick up her RONA ducking into a pouncing stance. The door opens revealing von Richton; with her glowing glasses and green three-peace-suit, short blond hair and lightly pinked skin.

Behind von Richton walks a senior man with bronze skin and orange eyes, silver hair runs down his back like a cape, wrapped in a WWII era allied trench coat, the scar of the war patches still visible.

In an instant, Milli has scanned her memories and know just who that is. Dr. Marks Vigeta Karingson, one-time war hero. Formerly general serving with the allied forces, deserter, traitor, returned home two decades later and found a job as a principal weapons developer with the think tank Claw Corporation, discovered a computer program that created replicated human 'souls,' father of Tail Vixon the first bio-organic computer. Marks died in an industrial accident in in 2000, somehow came back from the dead, younger and stronger than ever. The von Richton's have been trying to catch him for years to learn his secrets.

Milli springs into action pushing von Richton aside to rush down Dr. Karingson "One side My Lady!"

Marks seems not to see, but feel, Milli's charge. His hands held down to his sides in cavalier disregard Marks lowers his head letting Milli swing her saw over his head. Milli slashes her mighty tail, Marks steps and slides back out of her reach. Milli growls and launches out with a shoulder rush. Marks transitions his weight on to one foot and with a hook of one hand and a push of the other he lets Milli trip herself.

Milli springs up to a crouching pose ready to jump again, she commands "Marks Karingson, you are under arrest for crimes against nature!" she Jumps forward into a thrust kick.

Marks rolls one hand out in a wing block pushing Milli at the wall "Not today. thank you." His voice is soft but disinterested. Milli pivots into a sidekick with her back leg. Marks uses one hand to grab her leg, his other hand reaches out to her nose, and with two fingers he summons a blinding spark knocking Milli to the ground.

Von Richton steps out into the hall with them "thank you Ms. Mallagaurd, I will take things from here." Von Richton steps between Marks and Milli tapping her staff to the ground as she mounts her feet into the ground. "Let's see if your wing-chun works as well against me sorcerer."

Marks head lowers with a half-smile, his long silver hair drifting before his eyes, spectral wind blowing around him "I am only interested in having a word with El Driver if it is all the same to you."

Wright von Richton points her staff calling out a holy fire. Marks assume an astral form walking through von Richton and her magical attack. Marks passes though Wright and Milli, both seemingly helpless to stop him.

Marks slides into El's room in his ghostly vaporous shape. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting Lt. Driver." one hand reaches out beckoning El forward.

El sits up staring at Marks with his now only one usable eye "General!?"

"Lt., Lacerti is waiting for you. I will take you to him. That is if you are ready of course." Marks takes El's hand.

"there are three other prisoners her that we need to rescue; Nile Spelljamer, Jewel & Vern Driver." El pleads

Marks turns back to the door awaiting von Richton to knock the door down to continue their duel of wills. "I see no resin why not."

***

With the rise of the next moon, Meyu Darklair leads Razuki Lowe to the spires atop the estate she has claimed for herself. The childish-looking girl stands atop the highest peak looking out to the village at the foot of the hill. "Do you want to know Razuki? What I am, what we are?"

With a skeptical gaze, Razuki turns his eyes up to his mysterious friend "this is the point where you demonstrate that you are indeed an alien."

The wind blows flicking about Meyu's dress and hair in a mildly seductive way "in many ways I am suppressed my reviving you wasn't evidence enough."

"Wise man once said ' any sufficiently advanced technology would be indistinguishable from magic.' And I have no interest in being confused by magic."

Meyu looks down "I feel like it was the same wise man that said 'ordinary claims require ordinary evidence, extraordinary claims call for extraordinary evidence.' So, how does this bit of magic trick take you?" Meyu steps off the ledge becoming as buoyant in the air as she would in water floating weightlessly in the air.

Stunned by the trick N's mouth drops open losing the peppermint he had been sucking on. Meyu floats over she slides two fingers under Razuki's chin and shares her levitation power with him as wall the two of them touch he becomes equally weightless.

"I am a Guardian." Meyu explains. "when the Tamriel Sa-la-daynamO came to this world, he called on the aid of a dozen immortals from across the galaxy to help him safeguard the planet on which he would spend the rest of time. I am one. As is the man that you call Lacerti."

Flabbergasted Razuki ask "who else shares this power?"

"the only other ones of us I have met are Aska the Forgotten and Walker the Silinite." Meyu floats ever higher holding N passing through clouds and into the purest part of the sky. Looking down at the clouds they look as if lakes passing underfoot.

Razuki tries to keep up his business-minded face, but he is as enchanted as anyone would be who has just acquired the dream of free flight. "what do you mean by safeguard?"

"there are a hand full of people on this planet that have the power to lock or unlock this realm at will. We were to find out whom has been granted this power and see to it that their secrets remain intact."

"...and that is what the Keys of Salvation are?"

"Yes." Meyu explains. "your mother had one of the keys. She passed it off to you before you left to join the Letters, and that is when I started following you. She didn't know what it was or how to use it. You, on the other hand, tapped into the key, used it to make yourself hyper-observant and to stave off death for years after you had rightfully passed away. And that is where you faltered in your responsibility. Hidden within your breast the key still sits. You must give it away now or use it to aid us."

Razuki looks around, he seems to have mimicked Meyu and is now floating on his own looking down at the world half a mile away. "how can I help?"

Chapter 4

Track 2: Walk alone

After his meeting with Walker, Mac catches a flight back to what passes for home. Around 1940 he had purchased a storage locker compound in the suburbs of what was then St. Paul Minnesota, after redrawing of property lines it is now part of Minneapolis, as small-town often called Saint Louis Park. Over his endless lifetime, he has collected a vast wealth of trinkets. Some valuable, some of a value only he can see. But never the less he has enough to construct a healthily sized museum of his own.

The band is on the flight home with him, the girls tend to get loud and sometime bitty, but they are kids, for them, the world is still young, and they can be afforded the right to enjoy life. Mac, on the other hand, has walked around the world more than once, his head drops onto the glass looking down at the ground as they fly cross country, his eyes drift shut and ages past assault his resting mind. Mac wears a chain around his neck with three rings on it. Each in memorial to a family he once had.

The oldest of the rings, Mac has worn since the bronze age, but the memories attached thereto far predate that. The ring is a blue silver, carved into the inner band is a feather and a blossoming flower. The time in which this memory belongs is so far into the prehistory of this world that trying to assign a date to it would be both laughable and pointless.

It was a time when the world was still hot, salt and oxygen stain the sky red and green. Life was in its most fluid form, drastic transformations happening every hand full of generations. Sa-la-daynamO visited this world for the first time then. Monsters ruled the earth in those days, ones so great and horrifying they could hardly be described.

The most beautiful monster in Sa-la-daynamO's eyes was what today would be called the Tarra-bird, her body lined with feathers of white and pink, a speckle of yellow found only at the tip of her tail, her beck was long and slender with a sharp spearhead at the point of it. She nested in a bush of a proto-rose. The flowers seemingly mimicking the color of her eye color. She was far from the largest or mightiest of beast, but she was sleek, and in an era where size is what fetched the highest price in the evolutionary battleground she chose cunning. She didn't need to outfight her competition if she could outmaneuver them.

Sa-la-daynamO found this little bird enchanting. He merely needed to beckon to her. He mimicked her shape, followed her as she hunted, learned how to do rudimentary sowing from her. Sa-la-daynamO shared his grace with her. Let her live 20 lifetimes. He happily stayed with her and feathered many eggs with her. In a time when loyalty was not yet a concept this world known he offered it as a gift to the smallest giant ever born.

Sa-la-daynamO's feathered mate would have lived indefinitely if he had any say in it, but of all that which he could do, he could not prevent an unforeseeable accent from calming her life. In his memories Mac has given her a name and a voice, he calls her Tarren Delarose. Every lifetime his memories of her change slightly, but the feeling of insatiable lust never fades.

The feeling of wings around his body draw Mac into a fantasy, the red sky of his first life intruding on his current. Tarrin whispers to Mac in a langue never spoken by modern man, but he understands perfectly well. "how many more lifetimes do you have to live? When will you return with me to the place of forgotten memories?"

"I can't. not now, not ever. The universe won't let me return home."

"so, you are dammed to walk alone?"

"through endless ages and time untold."

Hot breath runs down Mac's neck, and a gentle peck finds his ear. "so only in your sleep do you find peace. In haunted memories where no one can follow."

"Tarrin, why do you keep coming back here?"

"why do you keep calling to me? I gave you a lifetime worth of pleasure. you gave me your soul." Tarrin's voice, the wispy chirping, and gertalling giving way to another voice, one from a world before time. One he has not heard since Yggdrasil, that of his younger brother Fillous-Mammon "was it worth it?"

As Mac twist and thrashes in his set fighting with his dreams the girls have pulled out a bottle of hard liquor and are playing a game. Charisma refills her cup after having taken a drink then proclaims "my turn." All the girls except for Tail have changed from there stage clothing too much more relaxed T-tops and tights. "who here has slept with more than four guys in a weekend?" Charisma takes a drink, but no one else on this round "Still me then." She looks around noticing she was the only one to drink "who has dated a man twice their age or half of it?"

Tail looks over "Mac count?", Tail has the appearances of a human fox hybrid with a cluster of nine tails; she has orange-red hair and tanned fur with a sandy strip running down her neck and chest with matching rips, her eyes are a chrome green. She has on a blue tee shirt with the phrase 'I leave marks' across the front with a wolf face on the back and a blue jean.

Charisma looks over with a smirk "no way. Not human doesn't count." Charisma takes a drink then looks around "what, how many drinks have you had Alice?"

Alice looks at her cup "none; this is the same cup from when we started."

"you can't be that much of a good girl." Charisma complains

Alice takes away the bottle "try asking about something other than sex and drinking. My turn." Alice drinks a glass to get warmed up then pours herself another cup "Who here has dismantled their elder sister with an ax?" Alice takes a drink and pours another, "how many of you don't know the name of your biological father?"

Tail takes a drink "I have like twenty for fathers, I'm counting it."

Alice takes a third drink "who here ran away from home at thirteen?"

Tail whispers as she pours herself another "I was younger than that."

Alice takes a fourth drink "who has lived in a nonunary?"

Tail specks up "arrested at seven, counting it."

Alice throw the bottle across the room noticing it is empty. Alice leans forth onto all fours as she gets nose to nose with Charisma "Some of us had to pay our way in life with blood, rich girl." Alice stands up walking away from the game.

Tail stands up "Gotta pee." Tail walks off also.

Charisma looks between Lucca and where Alice was. "So, is she just in heat or what?"

Lucca shrugs "ask Tail. roomer has it she can smell sex from eighty feet."

Mac Jars awake, he digs around in the pockets of his black silk coat and feels up and down the pockets of his slacks looking for a notebook. Failing to find one he calls over "Tail!?"

Lucca calls back "she is in the loo."

Mac waves Lucca and Charisma over "Come over here guys, I want to snowball with you."

Charisma Jokes around "I don't know what that phrase meant when you were a kid, but today it's sort-of dirty." The two girls walk over to Mac.

Mac turns in his seat to face them as they gather about "do you have your tablet on you?"

Lucca pulls a computer from a storage compartment above the set behind Mac "I do now."

"Great, can you give me a drumline that sounds like a clock ticking?"

Lucca plays around on the computer for a moment pulling open a program that writes and imitates music "Tic tic, or tic toc?"

Mac thinks about it "play both."

Charisma cuts in "if it is tic toc I will play that as symbol then snare 2/2 time, I think."

Lucca nods recording it on her device. Mac drops his head back thinking "how about a music box like line for rhythm? Something like; G, D, F, half not rest, C, B, A half not rest, repeat."

Lucca keeps typing; Charisma looks to Mac "What about base?"

"Don't know yet," Mac replies

Lucca tries to read back the measures so far "are we in 4/4 or ¾ time?"

"3/4" Mac nods

"that is unsettling." Lucca explains "and not very power metal."

Mac holds out his hands to take the device "May I?" Lucca passes it over to him

Mac starts typing up a first-draft for a song to go along with the melody he is dreaming up.

"Salt the ashes atop the bed.

Lay out flowers, a gift for the dead.

Ghastly whispers in your head.

They tell the world their still around.

Even asleep within the ground.

They never let go.

Through endless ages

Forevermore.

I walk alone.

Beckoned back

I can never go.

Untold time,

And sleepless nights.

I dream of now.

Forever alone.

I must walk alone.

The world may never know,

I am still around.

In restless dreams,

This drifter found,

He walks with me,

He too walks with me. alone. alone.

With broken wings,

She speaks to me.

Burning ashs

And shattered wings

From times long ago

With me, she walked alone.

But to this day

Hopelessly

I walk alone. "

Tail slides into the set behind Mac's leaning over him to read as he writes. "it not my favorite, but it's a place to start. Is this disturbingly autobiographical?"

The flight cross country is one the group has made many times in the last few year; it is a trip they have grown accustomed to. After getting back to Minnesota, it is a short ride to the car rental lot and only a few minutes from downtown to the outskirts under ideal driving conditions. Saint Louis Park is an idealistic place; tall trees in every yard, swamps, lakes and ponds, and parks within walking distances of anywhere and one of the best-funded nature centers in the state. Minnesota is now and always has been at the cutting edge of science and education, a contemporary Alexandria.

Lucca looks into the storage locker as they approach it "you live here?"

Mac steps out of the van they rented and approaches one of the buildings in the lot. "I live wherever I happen to be. This is just where I buried all my treasure." The door opens to review a museum hidden in the storage locker. Paintings from every era, sculptures hundreds of years old, toy and stuffed dolls of all sorts sitting on shelves around the locker, an orchestra worth of interments, and a wall dedicated to the most elegant of military artillery from the bronze age through to today.

Tail looks between her traveling companions "I know an archeologist that would trade his ears for a catalog of this stuff."

After the group of them walk in Mac shuts the door revealing a mess of magic words drawn on the door. Lucca looks over the writing "sigil's of non-detection?"

Charisma looks back to Lucca, "you are a witch aren't you?"

Lucca pivots to face Charisma "I never did anything to try to hide that fact."

As Alice is walking around she stops in front of a glass wardrobe with a what looks to be a 1940's era German officer's uniform "is this a Schutzstaffel outfit?" she leans in examining it "fully outfitted with gunshot wounds."

Mac walks around finding a small living space he had dug out in the center of the room "Yeah, I was drafted."

Tail looks over "you were a Nazi?"

Mac throughs his hands up in a shrug "everyone has a bad day here or there. Personally, I spent the war as a glorified accountant. besides, for almost two generations everyone was a Nazi, weather they like it or not."

Alice snidely jokes "I suppose if you had agreed with the Nazi philosophy, history would have played out differently."

Mac nods "when a Tamriel takes an interest in a war they tend to change the world."

Alice stands before Mac looking down at him as he has taken a set in an old dated looking chair "How strong are you Tamriel?"

"Do you want to see?"

Alice clinches her fingers, on one hand, cracking her knuckles "yeah, I would love to see just what you are."

Tail yells out "thou shall not tempt the Lord."

Mac nods as he gets up and walks around the room looking for his weapons "you ever fire a Kalashnikov?" he picks up a rifle and throws it at Alice. She catches it with stunning efficiency, racking and tapping the weapon as she lifts it to aim down range.

Alice nods "K-47 assault modal, nice. Where did you find this?"

"USSR" Mac is quick to reply as he unbuttoned his shirt and throws it off to one side. Mac rubs his hands together standing in front of the rifle "should be loaded, fire when ready."

Lucca looks over "please try not to kill our Base player, I sort of like him."

"If he is what he reports to be this gun doesn't have anywhere near enough firepower to harm him. If not, I guess he is a liar." Charisma and Lucca flinch at the sound of machinegun fire, Tail lowers her ears but watches interested.

Mac stands through the volley of fire, a splash of sand erupting from his body with each shot but otherwise no detectable damage. Once Alice stops shooting there is a serval second long pause as everyone stands glaring at the spectacle. Mac claps his hands and takes a step back to center his balance before taking a bow and announcing "was that or was that not the coolest thing in the world?" Tail is the first to applaud.

Lucca looks at Alice once the shock of the gunfire has worn off "where did you learn how to shoot?"

Alice replies "Sunday school; I can also juggle knives."

Lucca nods "I want to go to your Sunday school."

***

Joe Dove approaches the front door of the main complex. the complex is a multilevel foyer with potted plants lining the doors, two stairwells visible from the door and several balconies looking down at the commons. Two priest wait to be greeted at the front door, they are dressed in the same outfit as Lances Jacob; gray coats, black hats and boots, and leather gloves to bring it all together both with some accessories that are key to their own ends, the older of the two has a book bag with him the younger a long hunting knife tied to his arm.

The lot of them shack hands and share names as a courtesy, the younger priest refers to himself as Brother Headsmen, the older as Brother Nightingale. Headsmen is short-tempered, and a man that likes to get to the heart of any given matter "Y'all have a friend of mine tied up in your basement. It's 'bout time you let him go."

Joe smiles like a wolf showing sabers "No."

Headsmen doesn't take this well pulling his knife to threaten Joe; Nightingale produces a navy pistol from his coat following his associates lead. From the balconies, on the upper floors, twelve men with rifles click on flashlights to announce their presence. Joe laughs explaining "He-ha, did you know this county has open carry? What do you think? Should we have a good old fashion shoot out? But I fear I might have brought more guns than you."

Nightingale tries to defuse the situation "Mr. Dove, Ark Cardinal St. Frances would like to request your aid at the Church of the Hammer. If you are prepared, we would be happy to escort you to her."

Joe waves for his guards to lower their arms "I would be happy to follow you. Also, could you call ahead and let the Cardinal know that my birthday is coming up. I have a shopping list of things I need to pick up if she has time maybe she can help me pick up one or two things off my list."

***

Wright von Richton hands out a stack of folders for her team to look over, they have gathered in the study of the Watcher complex. David Jazzmen is sitting leaned back, his chair propped up on two legs, he opens the first folder, glances at it, then throws it over his shoulder disinterested, he does the same for the second and third folder handed to him keeping only the fourth on the table.

Von Richton slaps her cane on the table to get Jazzmen's attention "is there a particular explanation for this insufferable display."

"Frankly ms. Von Richton. This job, it isn't my style. You keep throwing 'small fish' at me. File number one for example; target, Charlie Belmond, human, no real threat there. Possible with a Methuselah, body guard? Still not getting me that hot and bothered. The only thing Belmond has worth looking at is a rusty flail that may have been forged in hell. File number 2, Senator Walker, a Lunarion wizard, a 'hard target', yes, but for the wrong resin. He is in the public eye, this is a job for a sniper, not a hit squad. Number 3, the Avatar Sword, in the hands of a rock star, give me a break, a sword that kills anything it cuts and it somehow was dropped by Sa-la-daynamO and ended up in the collection of some hotshot art collector. The only thing here that sounds remotely fun to me is number 4." Jazzmen offers a sidewise glance to Wright von Richton; he knows he annoys her, he finds it fun.

Von Richton places her hands on the table leaning over Jazzmen. Her eyes flash with holy fire beyond her glasses. Wright von Richton is a woman of noble heritage, and the insubordination of her underlings is something she as trouble stomaching. Wrights jaw tightens, her brow curls downwards as she tries to lock eyes with David Jazzman. "Devil, you are nothing more than a rich kid. You were born into a place of privilege, and I have no doubt that you had little to fear in your past life but this is not the land of Dis, and you are not in the compony of your father any longer, your bastered nobility will offer you little favor here."

Jazzmen has closed his eyes resting his hands on his head as he leans back "I'm a demon that kills other demons for fun, you and your wizard friends have nothing on me. You want me to stick around and make these mongrels into a winning team? Entertain me."

Blake leans into Marin with a whisper "Wright is going to kill him."

Marin flips back the tails of her violet overcoat placing a hand on her pistol waiting to see what happens next.

Wright stars down David for some time, David excepts the challenge, David folds his hands on the table and meats Wrights death-gaze. The two apparently start to speak to each-other but by some no physical means. Wright smiles and stands up straight breaking off their link "You can have things your way Mr. Jazzmen. Bring me the Souleaster, and we will talk about this more intimately."

Blake looks between Charlet and Marin "what the hell was all that?"

Marin takes her hand from her gun hiding it once more "Jazzmen is strong, between old warriors more can be said in silence then battle." Marin disappears into her reading.

Blake looks to Charlet to see if she has anything to add, Charlet throw her hands up in bewilderment. Von Richton closes her eyes taking off her glasses to clean them, she turns to face away from the party as she does so, "Seeing how you already know the gist of the mission, I will give you a few hours to talk over the mission. One of our men got a lock on Charlie Belmond in the city of Chinchilla. I expect that you will be able to pick up the trail from him. I want a list of all the provisions you will need, and I want you on the road before sunrise tomorrow."

Chapter 5

Blood

For Days Meyu trains Razuki, teaching him what she is, and now what he is. The Methuselah have most of the powers of your typical vampire; superhuman strength, the ability to jump ten stories straight up, to see through walls, levitate, to warp the minds of those they meet the gaze of. These powers Razuki can mimic, Meyu also demonstrates the ability to become invisible in shadows, to instantaneously travel from one place to another, and pyrokinetics, these Razuki can't copy, yet.

Razuki has a week to practice with his newfound gifts before Meyu guides him away from the safety of the manor. The two of them step out of the shadows, Razuki starts to look around at where they have 'landed'. Everything is blanketed in a blue fog, but Razuki knows where they are nevertheless.

Meyu looks to Razuki with a grin "you know where we are?"

"Wales England, Buckingham street is that way, we are outside 'the Watory Institute for the Gifted,' my school." Razuki turns to face the vampire-esc girl. "but why?"

Meyu's eyes gimmer an entrancing yellow "to do what it is I resurrected you to do. Name an heir anyone here will do, then you can return to oblivion if you so like. Maybe the girl you saved from the burning house? Or your partners; 'L' or 'K'?"

"and what happens to them if I cast this spell or whatever it is?" Razuki's voice runs cold.

"What does it matter? You won't be here to see it."

Razuki lowers his eyes "why should one man suffer over another? Perhaps I was meant to fight after all." The shadows on all sides of Razuki pull together forming into at first a discreetly human shape then pull apart leaving behind a tall silver-haired man dressed in a WWI trenchers outfit. Razuki remembers this man well "Dr. Karingson?!"

Meyu steps before Marks "how goes the mission doctor?"

"I have secured Snake Gekks and El Driver. I have made contact with Lances Jacob but failed to move him to a safe location as of yet. but I do not believe Lances is the key bearer anyway, Lucca Wingate is with Mac, and assuming that you have talked 'N' into joining us I would be willing to say things are going swimmingly."

Meyu looks disappointed "that is four; we had 13 keys at one time."

"the keys that were in the hands of Larry Gekks and Richard Black have been moved outside of my reach. As has the one that I lost." Marks explains

Razuki joins in on the conversation "Seven, that leaves six unaccounted for."

"five," Meyu pips in "what of Belmond's key?"

"next on my list." Marks smiles.

Razuki looks back and forth between them. "I'm happy to play numbers games all day but can one of you two please fill me in on what all this is about?"

Marks looks to Razuki "I tried to tell you five years ago, but you were uninterested at the time."

"I'm interested now." N's voice rises slightly.

Meyu nods to Marks; Marks nods back "our world is under attack, N, by a monster from outside time. Everyone on earth now knows the name Cravixs. Cravixs is coming, and when he arrives we all die. But Cravixs is not the only one of his kind; he has a 'brother', Sa-la-day-namO. Sa-la, has sided with us in an attempt to protect this world. Meyu and I are friends of his, we are helping him to gather the tools he needs to fight this evil."

Razuki's expiration melts off his face like half-cooked eggs sliding off a plate, determination turning to hopeless existentialism "I need to sit down." Razuki falls to the ground hiding his head in his hands as he struggles to accept what he has just heard, his world of math, puzzles, empirical investigation ... all pealing away.

Marks looks down to Meyu "I don't know if he is ready."

"I will need to make him ready, time is running short."

***

Magdalen St. Frances sits in silence in her study, a silver succor with a cup of tea balancing atop it in one hand, the other hand stirring the cup, her eyes turned to study the stain glass window across from her. The cardinal's ceremonial red robe cascading on the ground around her.

The greasy Father Dale Headsmen pushes Joe Dove into the study. Joe yells at Dale as he is walking out of the study "you know, I am a senior citizen, you could go soft on me if you wanted."

Magdalen speaks up "I had my heart set on finally meeting the illustrious Wright von Richton, but she sends me her old dog instead. I am starting to get the feeling that you von Richton's are less than fond of me."

Joe tugs on the sides of his coat straitening it. "Shut it. You called, I came, let's make a deal."

"on to business, I see." St. Frances turns to look at Joe. "You have one of my men. What will it cost to have him brought back here in one peace?"

"cooperation, Maggi, you and I are both people with influence. We have had trouble getting along in the past, but it is time for a change." Joe folds his hands sitting at the table with the cardinal "You know as well as I do what is about to happen. But I think if we can get: the von Richton's, the Jesuit, and the Letters, all working together we may just be able to pull off a fool's gambit and send the devil..."

Magdalen cuts Joe off "you are looking for the Keys of Salvation, so am I."

"I know. That is why I bring it up."

The Cardinal turns her eyes to Joe, her voice escalating "You have no idea what you are talking about, do you? You have men running around the world looking for any scrap of magical power they can find in hopes that you will trap a monsoon in a wine glass. The walls are cracking, the storm is raging. Throwing more sandbags at the ground will do nothing to slow the flood any-longer..."

"And what are you doing about all this?!" Joe snarls like an angry dog.

The Cardinal smile "I am building a raft."

Joe looks perplexed "what does that mean?"

Burning velvet eyes fade into the room, a shadow of a man sits alongside them. Black hair flows like a majestic cape; skin shimmers like ivory, his body wrapped in a shroud of glittering silk. "It means 'Joe' that the Jesuit have already agreed to help me. The Arc-Cardinal has decided that she should like to ascend into dreams at the end of time."

Joe twist the handle of his walking stick drowning his sword shouting "Cravixs!"

The evil god stands over Joe outstretching his arms as if awaiting embrace; Joe grips his sword in foolhardy defiance, God and man prepare to clash in this holy house. Joe shots at St. Frances "for a thousand years our family has been preparing for the apocalypse and you turncoat on the 11th hour!?" Cravixs closes his eyes with a sadistic grin; Joe nearly starts barking like a dog "It wasn't you was it? Someone had to open the door for Cravixs to come here..., to trigger..."

Crow cuts Joe off "don't bother shouting. Magdalen can't hear you anymore; she has slipped into the dream." Cravixs walks around Joe, his hands folded in a diamond. "do you remember when I told you, 'your son would watch your death.' The hour of proficy is only days away. Do you have your earthly affairs squared away?"

Eye's gleam with madness, Joe smirks like a man whom sanity is taxed to its braking thread "Don't count on it. I plan on living long enough to see you fade into obscurity." Joe reveals his blade running at the evil god. A Spartan howl shatters the stillness of the library; lunatic rage overtakes Joe's very being. Dove sticks Mammon with the vengeance of humanity at his back.

***

Jazzman, Blake, Malagaurd, Davis, and Dufrain pull over at a 'Park and Go' miles out into the flats of New Mexico. After a long while of deliberation, they conclude that tracing down Belmond is the shortest of the jobs there for the first one to be executed.

Jazzmen stands isolated from the group as they gather around a table and grill looking over a collection of photographs and a map provided to them by another Watcher at their last stop. David leans over another table at the park noticing some carvings on it.

Hunters for generations have been communicating with each other via codes. Some historians believe that 'the Hunter code' emerged around the same time as the continental railroad was under construction. Around this time immigrant labors would walk cross country, some chasseing the railroad, others just looking for an honest day's work.

A hand full of gentle souls among them felt it to be a worthwhile effort to start leaving notes for travelers that may be coming from the other direction. But then how? First, keep it simple, explain only a hand full of relevant fact like dangerous animals about, clean water nearby, trading outpost next stop, bandits about keep weapons on hand.

Next, how are you going to say what you need to say? Migrant workers couldn't count on everyone that fallows them to speak the same dialect. so, pictographs, use symbols off of maps to describe the area and images that are (or were) commonplace. For example, "X" or crossed knives is danger, the cross mean trade, triangle 'up' would be a message relating to a man encountered nearby, triangle down is a woman.

At some point, some Hunter's deciphered the code and to this day most 'legacy' hunters still know it and use it. Jazzman specks softly to himself as he reads a message left by the last hunter to pass through. "Water, City, one man, bird, knife... what is this symbol?" Jazzmen digs around in his coat pulling out a map.

As Jazzman is absorbed his own thoughts one ear wiggles, Charlit has turned on the radio as a distraction to herself having lost interest in the conversation at hand once Blake and Marion started shouting at each other.

The radio plays, everything seems to stop for just a few seconds. Jazzman looks over to his team, everyone but him seems frozen in place it looks like. Jazzman walks over to his companions and clicks off the radio. Without another word, he walks back to his bike revving up.

Blake calls over to Jazzman "What's up?"

"radio tower around here is emitting a hypnotic sound. You should probably tell von Richton." Jazzman explains

Marion looks up "what are you doing Devil?"

"you go ahead with plan A; I'm going to go set up plan B." Jazzman peals off racing in the sunrise.

Marion looks over to Milli "Kill him for me." She orders.

Milli lowers her ears to the sides of her head "did Jazzman just go rouge?"

"Go!" Marion orders.

Milli nods then laying chase after Jazzman.

Blake looks over to the table Jazzman had been studying "I think he saw something we didn't."

Charlit looks confused at the radio "A hypnotic sound? Why wouldn't David have been affected by it?"

Blake leans over the table Jazzman had been examining "maybe because he is an alien?"

Charlit calls back "Take a head count, we all are."

Blake pulls a phone from his pocket and takes a picture of the graffiti "were you born on earth Charlit?"

"Yeah, my mother was human it was my father that was Sethkallion." Charlit nods.

"Marion, you?" Blake looks over at the elf.

"both my parents are Faykin, but I was born after the immigration." Marion digs around in her backpack for a firearm.

Black nods, "I was born on earth also."

Charlit's antenna spark "Milli wasn't..."

Blake yells over to Marion "call Joe; this was a setup."

Chapter 6

Convergence

For Charlie Belmond, life on the road has become the only life that he can remember, isolated, a lonely traveler, nameless and faceless to most those he meets. Having come face to face with others in 'the life' was an uplifting event. Maybe, somewhere this is a better life out than this, stalking the night, passing divine judgment on monster, stealing to eat.

Gas in his tank, fresh rations in his saddlebags, and a shower latter Charlie saddles up and is back on the highway. The man-eating bird still in his iron-sight. Souleater is guiding his travel, quickly Belmond finds the freshest mess left for him on the side of the street.

A truck, half submerged in loose sand, old and gray with a rhino cage retrofitted to the frontend. Much of a corpse sprawled across the hood, the ribcage pulled outwards to exposed the soft innards. Dessert scavengers having only now found the body as has Belmond . Charlie is getting closer; he can't be much more than a few hours behind his pray now.

The corpse is gripping a navy pistol; there is a box of shell casings on the ground around the body. Charlie examines one of the bullets finding incantation markers on the round. He knows at once what that means. These are Hex Rounds, this wasn't a planned encounter like the last, this man was a hunter, and he had been following Charlie, chasing the same pray.

There is a book in the front pocket of the hunter. The hunter's journal, the record of everything he has hunted, notes on everything he learned about monsters, the way they behave around each other, around humans. When a hunter dies, they can only hope one of their brothers finds their book and fills in the last pages for them.

The Standard operating procedure after finding a dead hunter is something every hunter knows; you see one of your dead, you take as much of their gear as you can carry then burn the body. After all, there is no telling what evil they have encountered and whether or not it is contagious. Furthermore, take the hunter's knife (or whatever melee weapon they have on them) and use it to chop off the head of the next monster you meet. Hunters tend to be vindictive that way.

Charlie starts prepping the body of the dead hunter for its 'final rights' it cost him an hour, but it is the right thing to do. Charlie sort through the tools the hunter had in his truck, mostly knives, an ax, a pick, a long rifle and a few boxes of ammo, a keg of black powder and four pints of lighter fluid, finally a pound of blessed salt. The hunter has no ID; they seldom do these days. Most hunters never plan on going home.

Once everything is in place, Charlie stokes the body with lighter fluid and produces from his bag a book or rituals from the Church of Dike. As Charlie starts the prayer to send the hunter into the next world, Souleater springs to life shouting at Charlie to move.

Charlie has learned to trust Souleater; the magic whip protects Charlie, it has learned from generations of failure. Souleaters houses the memories of all of its dead owners. Part of the Souleater's curse is that once you have wielded the whip one gains extraordinary power, but in return, one denounces the right to pure death and the creatures of the night will hunt Souleater till the end of time. To break the chain and free those trapped within the cursed whip Souleater's owner must find the one who crafted Souleater and slay them.

Charlie dives to the right hiding behind the wrecked truck. A blue electric flame spits from the ground where Charlie had been then the echo of a gunshot becomes audible. The psionic guns owned by David Jazzman have that effect. The shots are comprised of Psychokinetic energy, they don't kill, but they do cripple.

Jazzman stands on the other side of the truck calling over "Jesus Christ, You are real. Honestly, I was starting to think that you were some form of phantom, a beast or memory from a past life encroaching on the local presentation of time-space." Jazzman holds a pistol in one hand sparking with lighting, his demon sword in the other. "I went out looking for you, you know?"

"David?" Charlie yells

"Charlie." Jazzman replies

"what are you doing?" Charlie ask

"I was considering kicking your ass." Jazzman starts to walk around one side of the truck moving towards Charlie.

"would hardly be a fair fight. I'm not all juiced up on soul sauce right now." Charlie crouches and crawls off to the opposing side to stay ahead of Jazzmen.

"the way von Richton tells it, you have the strength of ten or more men. That would make you about as strong as a demon prince even without your warlock power." Jazzmen jumps around the truck to ambush Charlie but fails to spot him.

"I don't know any von Richton's?" Charlie explains.

"Charlie." Jazzman looks about "bounty hunters are looking for you. They are going to kill you and take Souleater for themselves. But maybe I can protect you if you are willing to put on a little show for them."

Charlie crawls out of hiding and jumps to his feet; he pulls his hunting knife from his shoulder strap and spine around the corner to meet Jazzmen face to face. Jazzmen turns to face Charlie and meet him with a wing block, the two of them get their arms tied together and Jazzman forces Charlie to one side sliming both of them against the side of the truck. Charlie smiles "I'm willing to hear you out on this."

***

Battered and broken, Joe Dove is returned to the Watcher's Estate, he is found lying, bleeding, on the doorsteps by Amarant Springfield. The halfling elf-boy whisk Joe into the bunkers beneath the manner than to the infirmary. It is hours before Joe becomes responsive. When at last he is awake von Richton is sitting at his bedside, Springfield is seated at a nearby computer watching Joe as well.

Joe is filled with anger as he hisses and snarls at his pain. Joe needs only a moment to piece together what happened, Joe yells over to Springfield "status report."

Springfield looks up from his desk "tissue damage around kidney and stomach, creaked cartilage along the sternum, left leg needed to be reset. Good news is that it is the same leg you broke last time so recovery should be easy seeing that you already had rebuilt that side of your body once."

"Joe." Von Richton's voice is soft and maternal "I can't keep letting you do this. I need you to relinquish your post."

"Like hell." Joe looks over to Springfield "Get me vertical. I need to be back in the fight ASAHP."

Von Richton places a hand on Joe to hold him still as he tries to stand up "You are going to die if you try getting up now."

Joe grins in frustration "then I die fighting."

Von Richton's voice goes cold "you are no use to me in this shape. Springfield! Tie Joe up if you have to. He stays here untill he is healthy enough to travel."

Joe finds himself at the crossroad of hysterical pain and desperate lament "you can't sideline me. This is my fight! I kill the devil! That is how this all ends!"

"Joe!" von Richton orders his silence "we lost El Driver and Lances Jacob in an attack on the compound last night. We have nothing anymore. Nothing but the hope that Blake and his team bring back the artifacts you requested and you can pull of a 'nuclear' spell to frighten Cravixs away."

Joe grins "Frightening was never the plan. If we can't win, I will take a stalemate over a loss."

Springfield looks shocked as he overhears the conversation "mutual assured destruction?"

Joe nods "harvest enough divinity to blow up the planet in the monster's mouth."

Springfield seems frightened "that does nothing to protect us!"

"true. But that's not for our benefit. We sacrifice our lives to deal a deadly blow and save the rest of the cosmos from evil." Joe lays back his strength running out. That was the plan from the word 'go'. Just because you can't win doesn't mean you have to lose. The gravity of that revelation drives Springfield to shocked silence. Joe and von Richton sit in somber reflection, for them this option was always well known as 'The Final Attack'. Send everyone to hell to save them from damnation.

Von Richton's phone rings breaking the silence. Von Richton picks up "Tell me you have good news for me Mr. Blake" gunfire echoes behind Blake as if he had been calling from trench back in world war one.

"Not so much!" Blake shouts.

***

David Jazzman's plan is madness. Pit Hunters and Watches in direct conflict with each other. Blake and Marin are two of the biggest guns the von Richton's have. If they can be taken out of the pitcher, it will give the two of them a good deal of breathing room. Jazzman sends Belmond back to Brook's bar, has him hire five Hunters dumb enough to pick a fight with a Juon. That part is surprisingly easy, when Lances Jacob described monster Hunters and God's madmen he was more right then he knew.

Step two is to lead the Hunters to the Watchers, make sure Marin gets a good look at Charlie. The lot of them are going to fight. As the group is distracted fighting with the Hunters, David is going to disable their mobile battle station. Once that's done David will attack Charlie, Belmond will retreat, David will lay chase. With some luck, Milli will work out what is going on and fallow as well. In a perfect world, no one would get hurt, the Watchers and Hunters flaunt around for a time then everyone slips into the shadows, the hunters know Jazzmen is one of them, and the Watchers believe he is still one their side. But when you have two groups of trained killers squaring off, there is a good chance of things going sideways

The Hunters that take up the Job are Donavan 'Twilight' Knightly, the name called Neko, Brook Milady herself, a retired cop named Emmit Sunderland, and a girl that looks like a Chinese punk rocker calling herself Kasaragi. The hunters gather and plan their attack. Donavan buddies up with Neko in Donavan's 1979 Mustang, Kasaragi in Sunderland's 1988 Ford Ranger, Brook flies solo in a 98 Dodge Neon, Belmond rides into battle on his Davison.

To those that have tape players Donavan hands out bootlegged copies of 'The Oz Man Cometh' and has everyone que up the song 'War Pigs' by 'Black Sabbath, with instruction to start playing as the charge starts. Just a touch of psychological warfare from the man that was a school teacher.

***

With Milli and David MIA Charlit, Marin and Blake pile into the RV they rented for the job. Blake is back to his compulsive writing. Charlit sits in the passenger seat shuffling through ever comically growing mountain of note, photo's, hypothesis, maps, and greegrees they have picked up will driving. Marin drives.

Blake picks up his phone as they are on the road, he tries placing a call to David. The call goes to voicemail on the first ring. Blake calls up to the others "David has gone silent."

Marin grunts, "never put your trust in a Nephilim. Try Malagaurd."

Blake places the call. This time he gets a reply. "Special agent Malagaurd," Milli says as she picks up.

Blake calls over "Got her." He speaks into the phone "Milli what is your position?"

"Vertical." Milli's joke is dry but honest.

"Do you have David?"

"his movements are erratic. I lost sight of him outside Las Cruces. Attempting to reestablish contact." Milli explain.

Blake nods "O.k. I will forward the info to von Richton." Blake thinks aloud "Las Cruces? Have I been there before? Name sounds..."

Milli cuts in "Copy, signing off."

Even on this most remote of desert roads, a truck speeds around the RV. Charlit's antenna spark as she feels something nearby. Charlit quickly turns to Marin "Get down!" she has barely finished the statement before bullets start flying in through the passenger side door. Charlit takes a shot to the arm and falls out of her chair.

A voice comes over Blake's phone "Tell me you have good news for me Mr. Blake"

Automatic fire starts pounding against the back of the Winnebago "Not so much." Blake lays on the floor of the wagon to get under the fire.

Marin lowers herself in her set slightly "Charlit, report."

Charlit fights the hysteria of pain to reply "well I have been shot."

Marin calls over to Blake "Fealed dress Charlit's wounds."

Von Richton shouts to Blake "Delay that order. Blake opens the door to the van and turns on the camera on your phone. I will start offering tactical advice."

Blake points at his phone as if it was a person and angrily calls out "you understand we are being shot at, right?"

Von Richton is calm and commanding "Blake you are a Juon, bullets can't kill you. We, in fact, have yet to discover a dependable way to till your kind."

"It has to be nice to be able to say that will sitting in an armchair." Blake jokes as he moves to the door to follow orders.

Von Richton explains "I am in fact not in my chair, I am in the infirmary."

The side door drops open to reveal a high power muscle car alongside them, the driver pointing a police issue berretta out the window. Blake suffers two shots from the gun and is only momentarily pushed back. The driver shouts out to the man alongside him "found the Juon, you're up Neko!"

Von Richton speaks as Blake records the events on his phone "I am beginning to send files to your phone as we speak. The hefty man in the car alongside you with the 'Dry Duck' coat is Professor Donavan Knightly, graduated class of 92 from W.S.U., has a doctorate in sociology and a bachelors in philosophy and theology. He was being investigated for sexual misconduct in 99. The case was dropped when the prosecutor transformed into a tarantula and eat the head of her client. Donavan vanished from the grid after that."

"The man with the Terminator glasses and hooded sweeter in the passenger seat is an assassin for the Seranui family. His code name is Neko. He claims responsibility for three high profile hits. Details are unclear."

The muscle car pushes up against the side of the RV. A chopper style bike swerves around the clashing vehicles. Von Richton shouts into the Phone. "That is Charlie Belmond!" the machinegun fire picks up again, Blake's phone is knocked out of his hand by a shot grazing his wrist.

Blake grips the sides of the RV to hold his balances "is that a Chicago Typewriter?"

Marin checks her mirrors right before it gets shot out "Thompson SMG? 725 RPM, 270mm barrel, 5 kg. No, that is a TA51-00-D, the 51 is twice the weight, didn't go into production until years later, easy mistake to make though. I have one of each. Firearms are a passion of mine. It looks like the one our friend behind us has is a reproduction modal..."

The rear hatch of the truck head of them drops open Marin looks shocked "And that is a Panzerbuchse-39." An oriental girl arms the weapon.

Blake looks over to see what Marin is pointing out "Well armed for being non-government- affiliated."

A shot hits the RV, the engine block shatters and the van cost to a stop. The girl with the anti-tank gun pulls back the bolt to ready another shot. In a token display of affection, Marin jumps from her set to lay across Charlit covering her as from the heavy artillery round.

When Blake looks back to Donavan's car Neko has climbed onto the roof, Neko leaps into the RV punching daggers in hand, Neko tackles Blake driving the spire-like blades he wields into Blake's chest. Blake rolls around on the ground with Neko. Blake feels the should be fettle blow but keeps fighting, sand spilling from the puncture.

Neko leaves his first two knives in Blake's chest as he pulls out another set from his belt. One blade finds Blakes elbow crippling his arm, the other is aimed to slide into Blake's ear, but Blake leans off to the side catching to the side of the neck instead. That strike draws blood, real blood, the magic that heals Blake seems to need time to repair damage to the neck. Neko surmises that this should mean a blow to the head with sufficant force should slay the monster.

Neko straddles Blake drawing a hatchet from inside his pullover. Blake gathers his supernatural power and thrust his good arm up launching an invisible blast of energy into Neko, Neko topples backwards out of the RV.

Blake lays still a moment to catch his breath and let himself start to recover. Marin will have no of that, Marin jumps to her feet proclaiming "We need to press our advantage." Marin slides over to her backpack, she pulls out a set of guns, one a pistal that has been modified to fire shotgun slugs the other a traditional .50 magnum. "on your feet Blake. I will not let you die a coward." She looks to her partner as she loads her guns. "should I die before you, fill my eyes with silver so I need not enter the next life naked."

The hunters wrap round the RV like a native tribe herding the beast of their hunger. The door to the wagon opens one last time as the standoff begins. Marin steps down clinching her two guns; Brook stops her car and steps out, SMG in hand, Donavan and Neko hide behind their car armed with pistol and knife, Sunderland pulls over his truck, Kasaragi jumps out the back holding the anti-tank gun. Belmond stops his bike and takes off his sunglasses to let himself be seen by Marin.

The situation is impossible. Not even with her superhuman reflexes can Marin hope to score six kill shots before one of them can counterattack. Marin may be a monster, but Faykin are no harder to kill them humans, one bullet from any one of their guns will be enough to take her out. But Marin is still a warrior. She will die a death worth remembering. Marin takes one last breath as she slides back a foot to stabilize herself, she pivots sideways to lock her gaze of the Belmond. 'Belmond, son of Belmond, will be in hell before me.'

Like a cursed angel, David Jazzman burst out of the darkness, sliding between two cars pushing the hunters aside as he slides between Marin and the other hunters protecting her. Marin offers Jazzman a questioning glance. Jazzman remains cold, the man called Devil pulls out one of his guns and turns to the other hunters. A volley of fire forces the hunters to scatter.

Shockingly easily David Jazzman creates confusion and chaos as he whips his Jet Bike around then charges into the attacking group of hunters. Blake has just recovered from the last blow he suffered and found his feet by the time the hunters have begun their retreat.

Belmond is the last to break formation; he mounts his bike places his glasses back on as he takes off to the north. Jazzman opens the throttle on his bike chase after the legendary hunter. Blake looks to Marin as they suddenly find themselves in relative silences. "Jazzman helped us?"

Marin looks unsure. "we were outmaneuvered, outnumbered and outgunned. The hunters held their fire waiting for Jazzman. Blake, give me your phone." Marin orders. Blake feels around his pockets then looks back up the road remember having been shot across the arm.

***

It is a long ride back to Las Cruces, to 'Devil's Antiques' but Charlie remembers the way. The two pull over their Bikes, Charlie runs up to Jazzman and hugs him with a hoot and a haler. Jazzman seems far less impressed by their little show.

David produces from his coat a cream-colored folder, "this is von Richton's flight path. I don't know what she is doing, but I get the feeling we aren't going to like it if she finishes whatever necromancy she has planned." Jazzman unlocks his shop then freezes sniffing the air "do you smell something?" Jazzman pulls out one of his pistols readying it. "Milli wasn't with Marin and Blake..." David whispers to himself.

Charlie pulls out his whip lowering it to one side as he follows David inside. The door is cracked open, David steps in, he looks left scanning his shop, then starts to turn to the right. Then, Thwack! David is struck from the side. The man called Devil falls to the ground in a heap, all his superhuman power compromised by a slap to the head.

Charlie rushes forward to assist David, Belmond finds himself face to face with "RONA" Milli Malagaurd's alien rifle. Charlie freezes in place as Milli addresses him "Take one more step Charlie and we are going to see what happens when the human body is exposed to ten billion megajoules per second of ionized radiation."

Charlie puts his hands up in surrender "I'm not a hundred percent on this but I think if you fire that thing it will atomize me."