The hull of the Coeur-de-Leon exploded, splintering outwards and spraying their shields with shards with ruin. Through the gutted wreck the startled and uncertain shapes of both the Repulse Rush movie and the Prince of Wales

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came slowly into view, their own shields sputtering and flickering as they too were hit by the blossoming wreck of the dead craft.

Red light filled the bridge, deepening the shadows and drawing thick lines in his face as he lined forwards once again and bellowed the order to keep firing.

Blistering light filled the view-screen, arcing across the nose of the Repulse before curving down and towards the planet’s surface. From the belly of the fleet’s flagship the heavy cannons boomed, the whole craft shuddered with every motion.

“Sir, we’re tracking two unknown light craft breaking away from the planet’s surface. Their types and abilities are unknown to us.” Ensign d’Arc shouted, her voice all but hysterical as she turned from her console, her legs trembling visibly.

He snapped his attention away from her and the towers of light that slammed into the planet below them.

“Put them on the screen NOW!” He shouted mercilessly.

The image flickered to reveal two craft, one behind the other, both remotely triangular in shape and both rising up from the planet towards the fleet. The first craft was primarily white in colour was the second was black, tattooed with a jagged lightning design down either side.

“What’s their point of origin?” He snarled.

“Sensors indicate they both launched from the same point in Japan, sir.” d’Arc replied quietly.

His brow creased and his cold sweat suddenly stood out upon his forehead.

“There are no Japanese names listed on the Active Superhuman Register.” He whispered in horror.

The eyes of the bridge crew turned slowly towards as every single person gathered beneath the pulsing red lights suddenly realised that they were about to engage an entirely unknown foe. He staggered backwards and fell into the captain’s chair, his back dampening now with sweat and his eyes blurring with the strain of exertion.

He blinked and the two craft roared past the view-screen, between them and the Repulse. Explosions rocked the bridge, throwing him forwards from his chair to his hands and knees. Indignantly he rose up, brushing pale strands of hair back from his face and dusting the front of his uniform.

“Shields reduced to forty percent of maximum capacity!” The helmsman shouted anxiously.

“Aft imagination engines are offline!” The navigator snapped shortly afterwards. “Engineer Calohan reports massive damages to forward transit accelerators!”

“That means we’re dead in the water.” d’Arc gasped in horror.

“Take off, every Ark fighter.” He whispered solemnly, closing his eyes. “You know what you’re doing.”

Instinctively the helmsman turned back to console, his fingers moving wildly over the keys. The rumbling belly of the English Rose Tommy Boy dvdrip Man to Man film

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opened up in row upon row of docked fighters, lights flickering in their cockpits as the docking grips were released and they fell directly down and perilously close to the planet’s gravity before their imbedded, rear engines ignited, the flat, plastic indicators warming from the neutral white of the plastic’s natural state to a bright ocean blue.

The two Japanese fighters twisted in the air, all but scrapping the nose of the distant Empress of India

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before turning in a perfect arc and slicing through the squadrons of Ark fighters that rose to intercept them. Bolts of light scratched the sides of the larger vessels, igniting in brief eruptions that were soon sucked back in through the hull, spraying ruin over the interior of the craft moments before spitting it back out. They doubled up, weaving in and out of one another’s flight paths, guns blazing as they dodged left and right away from the narrow defensive line of Ark fighters.

He watched their progress from the bridge of the Rose 3:10 to Yuma the movie

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, his hands twisted together behind his back in begrudging respect and his heart trembling in his chest.

“This world may yet be more colourful than any of us had dared to imagine.” He said softly.

A stray shot blistered across the front of the second Japanese vessel, shredding its nose and sending it spiralling down in a blur of painted lightning and blistering flames as it hit the atmosphere and the oxygen ignited around it.

There was a roar of triumph from the bridge crew and he felt his heart slow, his lips mouth silent thanks to a forgotten otherworldly benefactor from his childhood. For a moment the lighter craft hung in hesitation, twisting away from the Ark fighters but no longer firing. It tarried a while, playing cat and mouse amongst the larger vessels before pulling completely away and rocketing across the skies after the earlier defeated craft in ignoble defeat.

Standing upon the dimly lit bridge he watched the craft depart, following the same trajectory as its fallen counterpart. The path would lead them both directly to the Australian subcontinent. He gritted his teeth and stretched his long fingers.

“Ensign d’Arc,” He said softly. “Please inform security that I intend to depart for the planet’s surface within the hour.”

The young girl nodded with murmured acknowledgement and he turned away towards the lift, leaving the bridge devoid of senior officers.

***

With a scream of maddened rage she lifted her arm, dragging the dog bodily into the arm and swinging it away into the sand and dirt behind Calohan-Smythe’s prone body. The animal landed with a thud and a whimper before swiftly gathering its wits and dragging its body up, lowering the curve of the back and spreading front paws wide as it growled in furious contempt.

The skies burnt with fire, arcs of light spreading the ground about them and digging thick trenches within the exposed soil. She threw her hair back, blood pooling with the tears of her uniform and over-spilling into the sand beneath her heels.

“Insolent children!” She hissed, her eyes wild with anger. “How dare you defy me?”

The scream of falling craft, blasted from the heavens above, passed over them. She ignored them, her rage twisting her stomach in knots and driving her further onwards to a final and decisive confrontation with the weakened ambassador and the dog. At either side of her stood Deer Strength Immortal and Ram Strength Immortal, whilst behind stood the solemn form of Millennium Man Tiger Strength Immortal, tears glistening in his eyes, his back hunched in silent defeat.

The cape of the dog fluttered in the gathering winds as it revealed the deep yellow of its sharp, blood stained teeth. Its eyes narrowed and its face trembled with the deep resounding thunder of the growl that emanated from deep in its belly. The circle of yellow fur around its right eye seemed to shimmer as great arcs of ghostly yellow flame ignited from its white fur, rising up in defiance of the wind.

She clutched at the deep gauge in her forearm, digging into it with nails and tearing open the sleeve of her uniform, her eyes widening as she exposed, and added to, the damage done by the dog bite. With wild eyes she looked up at the dog.

“Look at what you, you stupid dog.” She whispered, shaking her head incredulously as blood ran from fingertips and perfect nails, pooling in he skin above the knuckles.

Her voice trembled with anger as she shook her hand in distaste, flicking tiny drops of blood in a fine spray upon the sand. Her eyes narrowed and a cruel smile formed upon her thin lips.

“When you’re lying bleeding in the sand, your ribs shattered and her heart failing; when you’re struggling to dry your final breath, just remember that this is far more than you deserve.”

The atmosphere dropped, a chill wind blowing in from the north despite the burning sun overhead. Burst of static electricity snapped in the air between them, sparking against the burning sound and causing the dog to flinch back in momentary concern.

Upon her shoulders, her hair began to move, gently pulling away from her as if gathered in a gentle breeze. Her fists tightened, knuckles turning white and the dog felt the first stirrings of fear at the back of its animal mind.

There was a sudden flurry of movement and the burning stench of sulphur filled the air, the lacerated form of Calohan-Smythe pulling himself up from his knees and sprinting forwards in a moment. The dog yelped in surprise and the Magistrate staggered backwards, her concentration shattered and her eyes wide with confusion.

The monster closed the distance in seconds, rising up before her and bringing its great claws down in a single, deadly arc.

Blood sprayed across her soft skin and her eyes widened with horror as she found herself looking over Tiger Strength Immortal’s shoulder at her would-be assassin. Dug deep into each of his shoulders, tearing through the bone and flesh, were the claws of Calohan-Smythe. He turned his head slowly, blood running down his chin, and forced a sad smile to his lips before staggering forwards and slumping into the monster’s embrace.

She watched as they toppled to the ground and, for the first time in years she felt warm tears of regret stain her cheeks. At her feet remained the two corpses, Calohan-Smythe burnt out, his last burst of energy expended upon a desperate bid to reach her and Millennium Man Tiger Strength Immortal, defiant and loyal to the last, despite her treatment of him.

Slowly the tears slipped from her cheeks and stained the sand below.

***

The cockpit of the damaged craft popped open, spewing smoke into the still air about it. With slow, hesitant movements, Kunihiko Ohshiba pushed against the shattered reinforced plastic and metal of the cockpit and forced it upwards enough for him to stand upright and fall, coughing and spluttering from the wounded machine.

With trembling fingers he flicked the catches on his helmet and tore it from his head, gasping at the fresh air and blinking the sweat and blood from his eyes. It had been several months since his transformation into Millennium Man Silver and the fall of Kenji Ooba, several long months in which both he and his brother had searched in vain for the missing sister of their deceased comrade, Yujiro Komatsubara and taken hold of the SUNNY Corporation’s vast resources in order to aid their fight against monsters born under Ooba’s regime. Yet despite this disjointed break with the life he had known before nothing could ever have prepared Ohshiba for travel in space.

He coughed violently, choking back the vomit as images of their brief engagement of the alien fleet above the Earth filled his mind. Desperately he pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes and tried to forget the sight of the endless stars and the vast metal warships that had obscured the inner planets.

The roar of imagination engines filled the heavens above and he snapped his head up, turning as the shape of the transformed Kaiser V cut through the sky, stirring up the endless sea of sand below. He flinched; throwing up an arm to shield his eyes as the craft slowly lowered itself to the ground.

“Aniki!” A familiar voice cried out.

He looked up in time to see Kaiser V’s pilot jump down from the cockpit, and found himself powerless to prevent a smile from forming upon his lips. The figure charged across the sand, falling to his knees beside Ohshiba and grasping hold of his shoulders in concern.

“Aniki, are you hurt?”

Ohshiba smiled, knowing how he must look with the blood that covered his face. In the crash his head had bounced off the central control panel of G Kaiser. Luckily the helmet prevented any serious damage but the impact had still been enough to loosen a few teeth and stir his old, familiar compliant of bleeding gums once more into life.

“It’s okay.” He smiled, despite the situation. “You don’t have to worry so much, Kenta; it’s embarrassing to be made such a fuss of by my little brother.”

Kenta Ohshiba smiled with pride, displaying his wide, if slightly wonky teeth and scratching at the back of his head in a mildly embarrassed manner.

The thundering hammer of the fleet’s weapons subsided into deathly silence and Kenta’s smile faded, replaced by a seriousness of expression that had been unknown in him before his transformation. Ohshiba steeled himself, slowly rising, with the help of his brother, from the sand and dirt. In the short time in which both of them has become Millennium Men, Kenta first by the designs of SUNNY and himself by providence, he had witnessed his younger brother grow up.

Kenta Ohshiba had been transformed from the inquisitive and impatient journalist, his spirit cast anew by the solar power that ran deep through both of them and the lecteur de tarot cards they used to access such power. He looked down at his brother and felt the shame well up inside him, nameless and damning.

In order to save his brother’s life, Ohshiba had displaced the original candidate for the Millennium Man Neo programme. Yasuhiro Yamamoto had been an eager young man who, despite his extensive knowledge of the danger and failings of the Millennium Man Lightning trial, had been keen to become the first of Japan’s active Millennium Men. Ohshiba had solemnly reprogrammed several dolls to use excessive force in a trial run of Yamamoto’s physical strength and he had thus perished without ever knowing why.

To compliment Yamamoto’s murder, Ohshiba had thus drugged his own brother and, before information of the original test subject’s death had been released, rushed him into surgery under Yamamoto’s name. During the procedure he had personally overseen the suppression of Kenta’s original memories, all to prevent him from the wrath of Kenji Ooba, who had become steadily more incensed with Kenta’s continual attacks on the SUNNY Corporation in his weekly column.

At the time he had justified it by thinking that, if he could remove the memories of their awkward upbringing and shorn him of his past, then he would be assuring Kenta not only a legacy of strength and superhuman power but a second chance to make his mark on the world.

It was only once those memories had been destroyed that Ohshiba realised how much he missed his brother. Despite the fact that, in the months following the revelations, Kenta had slowly regained a fraction of his past, Ohshiba knew in his heart that the man he called his brother would never be the same person as his childhood friend again. Their holiday to Okinawa when he was twelve and Kenta was only seven, the time they had spent playing soldiers in their grandmother’s back garden; intimate memories that were forever lost.

A month ago Ohshiba had finally taken his brother home. Despite the tears of his mother and the stoic solemnity of his father, Kenta had retained an expression of polite confusion, as if that was taking place before him was somehow unrelated to everyday life. He had been a stranger in his own home, a stranger that Ohshiba was responsible for creating.

He turned away from his brother’s determined expression, following his gaze to the gathered figures a short distance from where they had set down. Standing on the brink of a crater that encompassed the entire surface territory of the once Australian metropolis of Pacific City were the shapes of two very distinct Millennium Men, their head adorned by animal skins and a youthful woman in full military regalia, her long blonde hair falling in curls over her shoulders and obscuring many of the medals attached to her breast. Facing them was a pale dog in a red cloak with its back to them. The animal’s head was lowered and his legs wide, ready to attack whilst, beyond, on the other side of the crater were legions of Millennium Men, the face of each one covered by gas masques that gave them the impression of ghastly spectres rather than soldiers.

Amongst the ranks of these phantom Science Heroes there was a sudden commotion. The perfect rows broke, blood spilling into the sand as a shower of black feathers rose up from the centre of the unfortunate masses.

Ohshiba felt his stomach churn.

“My God…” He whispered.

“Is that…?” Kenta gasped, unable to find the strength to speak the name.

From the middle of the congregation, a single figure emerged, wings stretching up towards the heavens.

***

His fists tightened as the imaginary city began to swim back into obscurity, the damp, warm feeling of earth and sand bearing down upon him. His eyes slowly closed, blotting the image of the city forever from view, consigning it forever to a place of memory and reverence. The air turned stale and he became aware of his grave within the darkness beneath the dead city. For a moment he had difficulty remembering who he was, who he had been, and then, slowly, the memories came flooding painfully back.

He remembered the stabbing pain in his gut, the expressionless gaze of the woman who had murdered him the first time and the blinding light and collapse of buildings that had buried him afterwards. His memories conflicted, awkwardly jarring against one another as he tried to come to terms with the concept that he had been born on the 12th October of both 1786 and 1966.

The sand pushed heavier against him and suddenly he remembered his name. His eyes snapped open, dark and resonant with anger as flames exploded from his body, pushing the soil outwards and away from him, carving a cavern beneath the dead city. Slowly he lifted his head, the sharp point of his dark hair outlined in the light that emanated from his body in that hole within the Earth.

His eyes fixed on the distant ground above and he understood that there was only one direction in which he could travel.

Underground, his radiance burnt ever brighter.

***

The stench of blood filled the air, sharp and as potent as the bitter taste of copper coins forced between reluctant teeth. The masqued Millennium Men fell away from the centre, withering and dropping like well-mannered, yet graceless, dancers. Standing revealed at the centre was the shuddering figure of Anna Romanova, her chest heaving and her clothes in ruin. Blood decorated her face and shirt and her hair fell in heavy tangles over stained face, revealing only her right eye with any real clarity. In her right hand the hilt of the heavy sword she had first used to defeat the Siege Engine slipped away, the weapon clattering to the dust and sword ignobly.

The Imperial Magistrate turned with a thin smile, delicately moving down the side of the crater and across the ruins towards her.

“Azazel. What a pleasant, if unexpected surprise this is.” She remarked with caustic disinterest.

Romanova’s eye fixed firmly upon her, her chest rising and falling in shallow, desperate breaths.

“Akathriel Yan Yehod Sebaoth…” She hissed with trembling fury.

The Magistrate’s smile darkened.

“I’m glad you remembered my name, Azazel, although I’m more than a little saddened to find you so humbled here amongst this empire of sands and insects.” She brushed her hair back carelessly from her shoulder. “Whatever happened to those boastful promises you made as a child?” She turned and glanced back at the growling dog and the distant pilots of the downed craft. “Why, when you, Raguel, Yehovah Vehayah and I last gathered, you promised that, of all of us, your empire would be the greatest.”

Romanova stumbled forwards, her steps lurching as blood seeped from behind the curtain of her hair.

“Azazel is a servant.” She gasped, struggling to make herself heard. “I…am human.”

The Magistrate stepped forwards, reaching behind the curtain of sodden hair and tilting Romanova’s face with her gloved hands.

“Yes, dear, of course you are.” She smiled. “I must say I’m a little saddened to see you this way. Of Raguel, I’ve heard nothing and Yehovah,” Her grip tightened and Romanova whimpered in pain, her knees giving. “Continues to defy me by refusing to come out of hiding and face me!”

Struggling Romanova pushed the Magistrate away, falling backwards and throwing her hair back from her face to reveal the true tapestry of wounds and gore that decorated her.

“Yehovah Vehayah is lost!” She roared with all her energy. “Victoria Burke is dead!”

The Imperial Magistrate blinked calmly, her fists tightening.

“I don’t believe you.” She answered simply.

With a sickening laugh, the former mayor of Pacific City reached into her pocket and drew it a blood-stained silver scarab. “There’s no one left, Akathriel, no one but you and me. Yehovah is lost and Raguel is wrapped here in her scarab, unable to awaken without my word.”

“You’re lying to me.” The Magistrate whispered, her voice trembling as it rose and she suddenly screamed in frustration. “YOU’RE LYING TO ME!”

Romanova threw her head back in laughter, clawing at her shirt and ripping it open to reveal the true scarab of Earth # 746387 glistened bronze and burnt into her chest. With trembling fingers Romanova pointed at the ancient scarab embedded in her chest. “This is the true mark of Earth’s heritage! This is the symbol of the unification bestowed upon me by my blessed father! This is the heritage of the Roman Empire!”

Flames of radiance sparked about tearing away from her physical form as she cast the silver scarab into the air where it remained, shimmering before her. The light of the bronze scarab entrenched in her bosom ignited with illumination, tearing itself free from the ancient flesh that anchored it in place.

“Summon…” She gasped with manic glee. “Spirit of the Heavens Stir Crazy psp

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!”

Romanova’s form dissolved, disintegrating in the burning luminance as her physical structure gave way to the beast within the scarab. In her absence the archfiend remade itself, rising from the ruin of human tissue, a wall of indiscriminate flesh, limbs no more than crude tentacles that wriggled against the sand like dying fish. It continued to grow, casting shadow over all of them as it rose to its full height, the twisted matter expanding and spreading, cyst-like in its arbitrary use of raw materials.

From its pulsing, sore covered body mouths opened up; festering holes in its flesh, gums stinking and diseased as bloody teeth pushed their way through and hundreds of hundreds of vocal chords struggled to form guttural screams.

The silver scarab hanging in the air before suddenly shattered with brilliant light, twisting and sending sudden shards of burning, broken metal into the hideously deformed former angel. The beast roared with all of its mouths, screaming out in the most primordial response as the fragments of Tanya Clandestine’s scarab tore through it, reshaping and remoulding the grotesquely expanding flesh.

It pulsed, pregnant with the burning light that spilt from every orifice of its nightmarish body. Slowly the throbbing monster began to deflate, reforming at last. There was a final flash of blinding light igniting over the ruined sand-fields so bright then even the Magistrate was forced to stagger backwards, throwing her arms up about her face to protect her eyes.

The light died and, tentatively she removed her arms, her sharp, blue eyes instantly fixing on the gnarled figure crouched in the sand, wings of bitten leather unfolding from its hardened skin. She watched as the figure unfolded, stretching out to a full height of seven foot, its long arms with knuckles like rose thorns scraping against the sand. A membrane of fleshy transparent covered empty eye-sockets and within the body she could still the traces of the cyst-like assimilation process that had become Azazel’s final form.

“I’m impressed.” She scoffed, raising a single eyebrow. “Of all of us I wouldn’t have expected you to master the raw techniques of Sicherung Magie without aid.”

The fusion angel’s face cracked open in a hideous mouth, revealing several rows of unfettered teeth and a hideous serpent-like tongue.

“So what should I call you, Azuel or Razel Living & Dying rip , or do you not have a preference?” The Magistrate continued to mark.

“Az…uel…” The angel gasped, and hammered a barbed fist against hir chest. “Still…Roman…ov…a.”

The Magistrate smiled with disgust.

“Of course you are, my dear.”

With a sudden roar, the thorny fist ripped away from hir chest as s/he raised her arm above her head and prepared to strike. There was a sudden crack of sound and motion and Millennium Man Ram Strength Immortal tore over the rim of the crater and collided with the fusion angel. Smiling the Imperial Magistrate looked up and saw the growling hound along with the two masqued pilots of the fallen craft, both impudently dressed in stylised Millennium Man armour.

Her eyes fixed upon the dog first.

“You I’ve heard, you’re the former pet of Millennius, Millie the Millennial Mutt or some other equally coy name.” Her eyes snapped. “You two I’ve never heard of. Name yourselves.”

“Neo.” The first figure answered without ceremony. “Millennium Man Neo.”

“Millennium Man Silver.” The other answered firmly, again with little flair.

“And is there something I can do for you, gentlemen?” The Magistrate inquired, turning her head back to watch the fight between Deer Strength and Azuel.

“Surrender.” Silver announced, his accented voice wavering.

She scoffed quietly and waved a dismissive hand at them.

“You can go now.” She murmured, unable to take her eyes from the movement of the fighters, equally unaware of the prone body of Charlie Winters at her feet.

“We can’t do that.” Neo snapped with strained determination.

“Very well.” The Magistrate murmured. “Deer Strength Immortal; kill them.”

***

He tore upwards through the soil, his fists outstretched as he burnt away the layers of age between and the arena in which his friends now fought. Images of his friends flashed through his mind, the heroes and villains he had known, the people he had once been. From Henry Burke and Albert Weisz to Victoria Burke and Johann Weisz and back again, he remembered and honoured each one.

‘Wait for me….’ He whispered. ‘My friends.’

***

“Neo L-Pistols!” Neo roared, snapping the card through his lecteur de tarot device. Light shimmered as the two guns burnt their way into reality, translated from the imagination and raw power inherent within the card.

Dancing sideways he lowered both guns and fired, bursts of illumination sparking from the muzzles of each weapon and burying sharpened slugs of metal in Deer Strength Immortal’s side. The wounded Millennium Man roared, lifting himself into the air, twisting as he felt the sudden movement of another above him and finding Silver descending in a swoop towards him, arms outstretched.

“Silver R-Pistols!” Silver shouted, gleaming weapons forming in his own hands and he opened fire.

With a sudden ignition of spirit energy, Ram Strength tore himself free from gravity and rose to meet his opponent, bringing a swift fist up within Silver’s defences and slamming it hard beneath his chin.

The enemy Millennium Man was thrown backwards, the reinforced plastic and metal of his helmet shattering as he fell in an arc towards the ground. In moments Neo was alongside, gathering him up in one arm and levelling his free hand at Deer Strength’s face.

“Just like old times.” He smiled, glancing down at his brother.

Kunihiko Ohshiba smiled sadly in return, the wind twisting his hair in knots and pulling it away from his bruised face.

The bullet erupted from Neo’s pistol and slammed hard into the centre of Deer Strength’s face.

***

Azuel’s wings spread wide, casting shadows over the crater beneath hir. With astounding speed Ram Strength Immortal tore across the skies, rising to meet hir. Their fists connected, balls hands slamming into one another’s bodies, tearing wounds and shattering bones with ignoble indifference.

They danced in the heavens, blood spewing from their wounds and they continued to rain down hollow blow after blow, their bodies shuddering and crumpling with each prolonged exchange of violence. Hir head snapped backwards, wings beating erratically and black blood streaming down the mottling grey tapestry of hir abnormal flesh.

All too late s/he at last understood the power of the Magistrate’s pet Millennium Men; all too late she discovered the unrivalled power with which they had rose up from their various Earths, promoted through endless ranks of pawns and knights to the warriors they were now. Hir shoulders sagged and stumbled, her feet pedalling against the thin air as Ram Strength continued his attack, his human fists crashing down upon her daemonic form.

S/he turned the empty sockets towards the crater, strewn with ruin and the patient, shimmering form of the Imperial Magistrate. Hir dream, born in empire and raised to maturity in altruism, had died a futile and solitary death. There was no longer any Pacific City and the heroes that had patrolled the heavens above her streets were now nothing more than the most casual of footnotes in hir flawed utopianism.

There was no future in Australia and the sons and daughters of her most valiant city had been reduced to ruin and ash. S/he lifted her head and threw out the palm of hir hand, snatching Ram Strength’s incoming fist from the air and twisting it away.

Anticipating the second fist s/he righted hirself and brought her great forehead down to bear upon him, slamming it forwards, again and again until the animal horns of his decorative headdress shattered and were torn away by the jubilant winds.

There was no future in Australia and there could be only one resolution to the evils s/he had brought to its shores.

With all hir might she reached out and embraced him, digging hir clawed hands into his back as they somersaulted in the air. In silence he screamed in her ear and empty sockets turned once more towards the glowing figure of the Imperial Magistrate.

***

Blood erupted from Deer Strength’s face, spraying across the skies in arcs as he fell from the grace of the warm sun. Without warning his back suddenly buckled and he was thrown upwards once more, the feral, snarling shape of Millie crashing into his back and shattering several ribs. His mouth opened, desperate to scream but able to secrete only blood.

In the distance he heard the cries of the other two Millennium Men, impostors to his celestial crown, as they marshalled their strength against him. With agonising force he righted himself, flames licking away at the sky about him, pouring from his bleeding flesh. He snapped his arm out behind him and opened his palm, firing sunbolts between the two Millennium Men with indifference.

His mouth open he swooped down towards the dog who, with animal rage, charged across the skies to meet him. Their heads collided and he felt the satisfying crack and shift of the beast’s skull beneath him. A heartless, rasping laugh escaped his dry lips, the most he could manage without a tongue.

The dog fell from the blue skies and then abruptly stopped, lifting her head and looking up at him with animal intensity. The laugh died in his scarred throat and with horror Millennium Man Deer Strength Immortal realised that the crack and shift of bone had not been that of the dog’s head but rather his own, already weakened by Calohan-Smythe’s attack upon him.

His eyes turned white with fear, moments before rolling back in his head. His body shuddered one last time and the structure of his fractured skull finally gave way, caving in and skewering the soft muscle of his brain.

Like a weight his body dropped lifeless from the sky and shattered in a spray of blood and ruin upon the ground beneath. High above the sun that had driven his power and ambition continued to shine upon his decimated remains.

***

S/he felt Ram Strength struggle beneath hir, barbed claws digging into the soft flesh beneath his costume and holding him close to hir decayed yet almost feminine bosom. S/he felt hir stomach churn as flames of raw power ignited from her flesh, burning a trail through the perfectly blue sky and rippling across the soft lily-white complexion of the man s/he held beneath hir.

A thousand memories swam to the forefront of hir mind and she could smell the heavy grass of the fields and taste the blood of the dying winged animal in hir mouth once again. S/he remembered hir father, felt his guidance as he had lead them both, hand in hand, into the fetid cave beneath the earth and stones. S/he remembered Egypt, s/he remembered the old empire and s/he remembered the England that grown up about hir.

The past and the future collided and for a moment s/he heard the soft spoken voice of Tanya Clandestine, another piece in the jigsaw puzzle of memory s/he had become, whisper in her ear.

‘For old time’s sake I’ll grant you that one request before I kill you.’

With a howl of rage and despair s/he hurtled from the skies, Millennium Man Deer Strength Immortal clutched close to her. The Imperial Magistrate glanced up and her smile faded. Her eyes met the membrane of sight that covered Azuel’s empty sockets and her lips curled in disgust, opening to spew forth words she would never speak. She threw her arm up to cover her face but it was too late.

***

The skies shuddered as Azuel triggered hir last reserves of energy and exploded, fashioning herself into both detonation device and bomb. In the place where the Magistrate had stood there was nothing but a terrible, blinding flash and a terrible, rising cloud mushrooming out across the once perfect heavens.

New Mages: Final Mix tome #3:
“Long, Long Ago 20th Century”
(Regina Angelium Act III)
by Jacob Milnestein

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