Smoke curled upwards from his tensed muscles, his ram headdress burning as his shoulders twitched and relaxed, his body straightening and unfolding from around the crouched form of his mistress. In the last moments before Azuel’s self-destruction he had just managed to free himself from the fallen angel’s deathly grasp in time to launch forwards and shield his mistress from the blast, absorbing the fire and brimstone that had rained down upon his back.

Now, in the aftermath of the explosion, the sand turned black beneath him and pocked with flowers of tiny flame, Millennium Man Ram Strength Immortal was at his lowest ebb. He dropped to his knees, his chest heaving and his eyes wild, sweat and blood pouring down his face. Surely now they had proved their superiority over the stubborn peoples of Earth #746387, surely now they could return safe in the knowledge that they were the supreme power on all worlds?

Before him the lithe form of his mistress, the Imperial Magistrate unfurled, her hair tumbling down her shoulders as she straightened and staggered forwards. For a moment she was silent, her back turned to him so her expression was unreadable and then slowly her body began to tremble and a howling, shrieking laugh erupted from her thin lips, convulsing her body with such force that he feared she would topple into the burning sand.

“I win!” She screamed, almost incoherent between gasps of laughter. “None of you are the equal of me! None of you! I win!”

She turned and the laughter died, her lips twitching in the vague remembrance of motion and her eyes widening in horror. Desperately, Ram Strength Immortal pulled himself up from his knees, his heart hammering in his chest as he followed the direction of her horrified gaze. Instantly he flinched, his eyes narrowing as he struggled to focus on the burning illumination before him. It was like a tower of light stretching up from the ground and into the heavens. His knees buckled but he forced himself to endure, lifting his head upwards to the sky and realising with horror that the tower had skewered the Aquitaine directly through the centre of its massive hull.

A silent gasp of awe escaped his lips and his head snapped back to the centre of the light, eyes squinting as he forced himself to focus on the figure standing at its centre, black hair rising up in a point from his mottled skin and fierce eyes so brown they could almost have been black. The stranger was dressed in simple black T-shirt and jeans, a solemn white circle at the very centre of the shirt, hanging like a halo above the prone body of Charles Winters, cradled in those strong arms.

Slowly he stepped forward, the light dimming behind him as he moved. His dark eyes looked once at the Magistrate and then once at Ram Strength before he turned his back on them completely, gently laying his friend’s body down in the smouldering sand and placing a hand upon the wound that had torn through Winters’ flesh.

Soft blue light blossomed between the other man’s fingers, swarming into the wound and knitting the flesh together. The other remained bowed, his brow creased in concentration and small beads of sweat forming upon his forehead as the light expanded, washing over Winters’ silent form in gentle, ebbing waves.

Slowly the torn and dirtied clothes of the former Science Hero were washed, replaced with a simple one-piece Millennium Man uniform, the sides of the costume, and the pale sun at its centre a watery shade of blue. His hair too turned from silver to black and slowly, Charles Dexter Winters opened his brilliant, blue eyes. Confusion and then recognition flooded the older man’s face, his lips curling in a slight smile.

“I thought I was dying.” He whispered; his voice dry and almost soundless.

The younger man smiled gently back.

“You were, Charlie.” He answered. “But your mind hadn’t accepted it, which allowed me to bring you back.”

Winters’ smile turned swiftly into a frown and then a wince of pain as he struggled to lift himself. “I feel different.” He paused and looked at the vast shaft of black hair sloping upwards and away from his friend’s head. “And you certainly look different, Mikey.”

“We’re both different.” The younger man answered, gently slipping his arm beneath his mentor’s own and lifting him from the blackened sand.

Together they rose from the ruins. Winters looked about the ruined landscape, shuddering at the sight of the wounded Immortal and his divine mistress before turning his eyes downwards and blinking in surprise at the curious uniform that replaced his ragged clothes.

“What’s all this, then?” He asked, his voice quickly gaining strength and his feet swiftly finding confidence in the sand. “I’m dressed like a bloody Millennium Man.”

The younger man smiled calmly.

“You are a Millennium Man, Charlie. In order to reincarnate your flesh and keep you anchored to it, I had to trigger your own latent Millennial Spirit.”

He smiled mischievously and Winters snorted in laughter, slowly releasing his grip on the other’s shoulders and standing hesitantly in the pit. Beneath the harsh, indignant laughter Winters hid the tears that formed in his blue eyes, quickly wiping them away with the back of his hand.

“You should have left me, Mikey.” He whispered. “I’m not going to be no good for this fight. Believe me, I’ve tried.” His eyes clouded and he searched the sand for the ruined body of Calohan-Smythe. “We tried to hold them off till you got here…I knew you’d come for us, Mikey. You’re not the sort to let your friends down.”

Michael Licuan tightened his fists.

“I did let them down, Charlie.” He whispered, his voice quivering with impotent rage. “I let them all down. An entire city died because I lost my way.”

Charlie Winters shook his head emphatically.

“Don’t you believe it, Mikey. You never let anyone down.” He whispered in return, his own voice breaking with emotion. “You put the rest of us to shame again and again. Trust me, mate, there isn’t a single soul in Heaven that blames you for what happens.”

“I blame me, Charlie. I could have walked away from this; I should have walked away from this. It was never my destiny in the first place.” He lifted his head and his eyes glistened with raw power. “If I did maybe Bruce and Victoria would still be alive…and I’d still have Regina in my arms.”

“Don’t you dare let the fight go out of you so soon!” Winters hissed. “I’ve just died for this bloody hole in the ground and I don’t even like Australia! But we fight because it’s the right thing to do. It’s in our guts and in our hearts.”

“Romanov was right.” Licuan said softly. “We are a sentai.”

“Millennium Man-sama!” A voice called down from the edge of the crater.

Both Winters and Licuan turned their heads to see two figures, their uniforms both stylised variants of the familiar Millennium Man uniform sprinting down the blackened slope, a bedraggled dog with a shimmering patch of yellow fur over one eye running alongside them.

The first of the two ran up to meet him, his face pale from exhaustion and his eyes alive with exhilaration. He reached out a hand to the other man and Licuan tentatively took hold of it.

“Millennium Man-sama, it’s an honour for us to meet you.” He said, his heavily accented voice rich with joy and excitement.

“Who are you?” Licuan asked in confusion, recognising the unmistakable trace of solar derived energy encoded deep within their flesh but failing to understand where they had come from.

“We were created in likeness of you.” The young Japanese man smiled reassuringly. “My name is Kunihiko Ohshiba and this is my brother, Kenta.”

The younger man, his face concealed by the faceplate of his helmet, nodded in their direction but said nothing. With an eager bark, the dog stretched upwards, its front paws padding against Licuan’s leg as its tale moved in the burning hot sand.

“And you are all Millennium Men?” Licuan asked in confusion.

“Yes, sir, we are.” He said and his voice trailed away as he suddenly caught the movement behind Licuan’s shoulder.

Sensing the danger, Licuan quickly pushed the dog away, turning towards the Magistrate as flames of ethereal spirit energy ignited from his body, flaring upwards like tongues of an incredible and unquenchable furnace. He tightened his fists and lifted his arms to his waist. With a cry of sudden fear, Ram Strength Immortal pulled himself up onto his ruined legs and ran forwards, his own aura sparking into ignition as he bowed his head and charged forwards. Indifferently Licuan lifted a giant hand and wrapped it about the other’s scalp, snapping the neck and using the man’s great momentum to haul him from the ground and throw him away into the desert.

With a great crash the last of the Imperial Magistrate’s Millennium Men generals slammed lifelessly into the sand on the other side of the great pit. Slowly, the former Science Hero lifted his head and fixed his dark, threatening eyes upon his final foe.

The Imperial Magistrate looked once at the prostrate body of her final general and then lifted her eyes towards Licuan.

“Really, Mister Manly, I find your manners to be utterly inexcusable.” He chided him with mock anger. “Fancy ignoring me whilst you carried on like that with your new little friends.” Her eyes narrowed as she glared at Winters. “Although some of them don’t look so new, in fact some of your friends look something like mutton dressed as lamb, if you’ll forgive me for saying.”

“I’ll never forgive you.” Licuan whispered in response, his voice a low grumble. “This time you won’t be walk away.” He said simply,

The Magistrate glared at him with wide eyes and then slowly she began to laugh with hysteric indifference. She lifted her right hand and swiftly commenced fanning her face, looking away from him with mock incredulity.

“I don’t think you understand the situation, Mister Manly. I didn’t come here to fight second division heroes like your good self.” Her voice cooled, the mirth dying instantly upon her cold lips. “I’m only interested in Mysteria…and Yehovah Vehayah.”

“Victoria Burke is dead,” Licuan replied flatly. “And Yehovah Vehayah is lost.”

“Liar!” She hissed. “I’ve heard this before and I simply refuse to believe you. Bring me Victoria Burke and Yehovah Vehayah and let’s end this tiresome charade.”

“I’m not lying.” He answered coldly. “Victoria Burke is dead.”

The colour drained from her skin and she turned her head, staring away into the distant and the small fires that raged amongst the furthest cities from the ruins.

“After all this time…and she’s not here for me?” She whispered softly.

“She died fighting, I’m told.” Licuan whispered, taking a single step forwards. “You would have been proud of her.”

“W-Who killed her?” The Magistrate croaked, her words all but overpowered by the emotion.

“A woman named Hysteria.” Licuan said simply.

“A-And where is this Hysteria? What’s to be done about her? I simply must demand that you bring her here this instant!”

He stood before her and gently placed his hand upon her shoulder.

“She’s dead too, Magistrate. There was no way she could have escaped the city when you destroyed it.”

She lifted her head, tears streaming down her cold cheeks.

“Oh, Michael Manly,” She gasped. “I do so love you.”

His face remained firm and his lips tight. Slowly she reached up, sliding her pale arms about his shoulders and pushing her gentle fingers up into his dark hair. With trembling grace she lifted herself up on tiptoes and placed her cold lips upon his.

The moment hung in eternity and sadly she pulled herself away from him, her hands remaining in the mess of his hair.

“Darling,” She whispered. “There should have been another Earth for us; an Earth where we could have loved each other.”

Tears formed in his dark eyes.

“There was, Magistrate.” He answered gently. “It was this Earth and together we’ve spoilt it forever.”

She smiled sorrowfully and slipped her fingers free from his hair, stepping backwards and folding her hands together upon her stomach.

“Come, Michael Manly, let us kill one another in a final, useless gesture of defiance.”

She tensed her muscles and hardened the expression upon her face. Pale blue flames exploded silently from her gentle frame, her immaculate blonde hair rising like serpents from the golden epilates. With indifference she threw her first forward as he raised an arm to block it.

For a moment they stood there, their eyes fixed together.

“I love you.” She whispered again and coiling the fingers of her free hand into a fist, thrust it into the centre of his chest.

He staggered backwards but quickly gathered his senses, steadying himself as she lunged forwards and throwing out his fist to meet hers. Their fists crashed together, sending sparks of raw energy flying across the black sand and electrifying the air as they both pulled away, fists whirling through the air, travelling at speeds that would have broken the bones of any normal human. He ducked left and struck out, sliding his right leg through the air and digging his heel into her side. Her eyes widened and he brought his fist down, the tough skin and hard bone crashing into her face and knocking her downwards. Flames of intensity flared up from Licuan’s moving form, blurring the path of his limbs across the blackened sands. She staggered to her feet and launched to meet him, her mouth open in a silent scream of frustration and rage, her hair swirling in the gathering winds.

His hands moved swiftly, darting through the space between them and blocking every punch she threw.

“I’ll finish this!” She roared, spittle staining her lips and her eyes distant and raging. “I’ll finish this once and for all!”

The blue flame that hung in the air about them flickered and burnt brighter, her closed hands slamming into him with unstoppable force. He felt the beauty of each furious punch as it crashed into him, his body shuddering with the weight of the attack. His eyes narrowed and his legs buckled and for a moment he lost sight of where he was, imagining himself once more within the warm solitude of that distant apartment, his face pushed closely up against the wall as he wept bitter tears of regret.

Instinctively he flexed his arm, throwing it up and holding her blows back as he lifted his head, sweat dampening his brow as he and struck out with a final decisive blow, his fist tearing through the starched fabric of her uniform and shredding the flesh beneath as it buried itself deep within her stomach.

Her eyes widened as blood rose up in her mouth, washing over her heavy tongue and running down her chin. The uniform burnt slowly away from the wound, revealing the soft white of her stomach and the hideous, rust covered platinum scarab dug deep in her flesh. Her hair faded, turning from shimmering blonde to dull, greasy brown as the glamour faded from her angelic appearance.

He felt the breath catch in his throat as the horror of his actions finally sunk in.

Victoria Burke forced her lips into a crooked smile, the lines upon her forehead creasing in pain as she slid further forwards, entrenching his arm within the cooling warmth of her wounded body. She winced, beads of sweat forming upon her forehead and blood staining her soft lips. The dry skin about her lips cracked open in sores as she curled her mouth into a smile, the hideous toll of years behind the majesty of Akathriel Yan Yehod Sebaoth.

“You were expecting Regina, weren’t you, Michael?” She whispered in a voice drained and spiteful.

He looked down at her in horror, taking in the damage years of hiding behind the scarab had done to her.

“I should have known. All these years…” He whispered with regret. “I should have known.”

The smile upon her bruised face faded and her eyes flickered once as she desperately struggled to draw breath into bleeding lungs.

“Yes, Michael,” She answered softly. “You really should have.”

Her eyes turned pale and she slumped forwards against his shoulder.

***

The wind blew the burning sand at his feet, his eyes narrowing behind the faceplate of his helmet.

“This isn’t what I expected.” Kenta Ohshiba whispered in a solemn, quiet voice.

He watched as the pale figures at the centre of the pit remained embraced, the life bleeding slowly from the exposed woman as her arms went limp about Licuan’s shoulders.

“It’s far beyond anything any of us were expecting, son.” Winters replied, his voice soft and almost paternal sounding.

In one year the world had turned upside down; death, rebirth and death once again. He shuddered at the thought, feeling suddenly exposed in the figure-hugging Millennium Man costume. There was the sound of distant doors sliding open and his heart stopped beating for one moment.

He sensed the presence of the other before he saw them, swiftly tearing his eyes away from the dying Magistrate to the belly of the vast craft above them and the barely visible figure that was slowly making his way down towards them. He narrowed his eyes, sharpening his vision beyond and found himself studying the distant profile of an aristocratic looking man with a strong nose and well defined jaw, his complexion as pale blue as the sky.

Both younger men followed his line of vision and he could sense the sudden tense of their powers in the charged atmosphere around them.

“Who is that?” Asked the older brother, taking a step forwards.

Winters reached out and stopped as the younger of the two took hold of his brother’s arm.

“He’s dangerous, whoever he is.” Winters warned.

“We should do something.” Kenta said suddenly.

Winters shook his head sharply.

“All we’d be doing is getting in the way. We’d be like so many ants scrabbling at their feet. Take a look at this guy’s power levels.”

Kunihiko Ohshiba drew in breath sharply.

“That’s impossible!” He proclaimed, a little louder than intended.

“Trust me, it isn’t. This guy, whoever he is, eats worlds for breakfast. I’d be surprised if he even knew we were here.” He glanced at the two young fighters and then turned his eyes back to the lone figure descending from the sky. “Be careful, Mikey,” He whispered under his breath. “For God’s sake, be careful.”

***

The sound of well heeled boots upon the heavy iron steps above caught his attention and he slowly lifted his head to witness the white uniformed, pale blue skinned fleet commander strolling confidently down from the underbelly of the English Rose, his arms folded neatly behind his back. When he was in earshot he stopped, one foot lower than the other and nodded curtly towards Licuan and the slumped body of his former monarch.

“Good morning Mister Manly, or rather Mister Licuan, I should say.” He smiled warmly down.

“Ura God.” Licuan said coldly.

“The very same.” The alien smiled, bowing briefly and continuing his slow, careful descent towards the ravaged earth. “I must say it is indeed a pleasure to meet with you once more, Mister Licuan. It seems we’ve both revealed a slight bit more about ourselves on this occasion than during our previous meeting. Makes for interesting food for thought, wouldn’t you say?”

“I thought you…” Licuan began, his voice haunted by a tone of icy determination.

“On the side of the angels?” Ura God finished for him. “Oh my, no, that would be quite unbecoming of me. One learns not to lower oneself to taking ‘sides’ with one’s creations. It doesn’t pay to dabble in the end, really it doesn’t.”

“Then why are you here?” The former Millennium Man demanded. “And why are you wearing an Imperial uniform?”

Ura God straightened the front of his buttoned jacket and smiled.

“I think it quite suits me, don’t you know. And in answer to your second question, I’m here, my young friend, because I was curious to see what happened to you.” He smiled and brushed back a stray strand of hair from his eyes with the flick of the wrist. “You have all but quite arrested my attention these past few months, Mister Licuan. I must say I’ve been waiting with bated breath to see what you’d come up with next. Oh, that duel with Ms. Romanova was most entertaining, I really must say!”

“How many Millennium Men are here, Ura God?” Licuan snapped, his body protesting at the dead weight of the Magistrate’s body in his arms.

Ura God’s eyes shimmered with unfathomable pride.

“The whole bally lot, I’d say. No point in doing things by halves, what.”

Licuan set his jaw in determination and his dark eyes met Ura God’s own.

“Take me to Millennius.” He whispered. “I’ll settle this myself.”

A sharp laugh escaped the god’s cruel lips.

“Dearest, dearest boy, as if I could really have left Millennius alive.” He laughed quietly to himself as if at some small, private joke. “I’m afraid Millennius is very much in the ground, Mister Licuan,” He glanced over the younger man’s shoulders and nodded at the shivering form of the Millennial Mutt. “As that young whelp well knows.”

“Then all the Millennium Men you’ve gathered, all the countless heroes you’ve called out from the distant Earths and used as fodder for the Imperial army have been answering a lie?” He hissed.

“Quite so, quite so. A necessary evil, I’m afraid.” Ura God answered, pausing and scowling with distaste at the look of indignation upon Licuan’s face. “My boy, you really shouldn’t be so upset. In fact you should feel bally well flattered. If it wasn’t for you those men would never have drifted into your universe. It’s the whisper of your heart, not mine, that pulled them here. All I did was put them to good use.”

“You bastard,” Licuan gasped. “I’ll put an end to you. I’ll put an end to all your Millennium Men.”

“And bury those you called into being?” Ura God laughed. “I don’t think so.”

The corpse slipped from his hands, toppling away to the ground in slow motion as Licuan drew his arms back and cupped his palms. Particles of solar energy suddenly flared into existence, gathering at a rate far swifter than any previous documented release of spirit energy. Too late Ura God realised what was happening. The laughter died in his throat, eyes wide and lips open as unspoken words formed upon his tongue.

The last sun bolt sparked and ignited, exploding from between Licuan’s cradled hands as a solid lance of burning energy, ripping through the sky and expanding as it sped upwards. The god staggered upon the metal staircase and desperately threw his arms up over his face. The sun bolt engulfed him completely and didn’t slow, speeding onwards and upwards and swallowing the English Rose before it spiralled into the very heart of the sun.

There was a sickening silence and then the colour of the sun darkened as its very heart erupted in a chain reaction of finality. High above the heavens filled with a sudden burning light, washing away the final remnants of the Imperial Magistrate’s fleet and swallowing the world in a burning, fatal white luminance.

Michael Licuan lifted his feet from the black sand and flew upwards, around him the world fell to pieces, his home, his life, his friends drowning beneath a sea of fatal brilliance. Everything died.

‘I know what you’ve done.’ A voice whispered close to him and a blur of golden white light flashed past him in the shadow-less void. ‘And I knew you’d do it before you did.’

Licuan twisted, turning and looking over his shoulder to see the looming head and chest of a giant metal monstrosity, its chest open wide and revealing an empty pilot’s seat. He lifted his head once more to see the golden light growing ever distant from him.

‘I want to say thank you.’ The distant light called to him. ‘You gave me a reason and a purpose to live. Without your ideals filling the gaps in my own lack of self, I could never have gone on with this detonator in place of my heart. But I did and I’m thankful. Because of you I got to become a new person, Mister Licuan. Through you I met my brother again, through you and found out that, without my past, without my history, I’m still me…and I’m proud of who I’ve become. Without you I would have become Hell, leaving the world in ruins behind me. Your strength helped me harness the powers of my own new solar heart.’

“Who are you?” Licuan called desperately into the void.

The distant light shimmered and he caught sight of a figure at his heart, turning to face him, his white suit almost indistinguishable amidst the sea of nothingness.

‘Millennium Man.’ Answered the distant voice.

“Then who am I?” The older man called back in sorrow.

‘You’re Michael.’ The figure whispered. ‘You’re my hero.’

The distant light flowered silently into a ball of perfect golden light and he was thrown backwards, his arms up over his face as the empty whiteness washed away, the stars and the void and all the heavenly spheres visible once more amongst the skies. He turned his head, looking over his shoulder once more and saw the plummeting machine falling further from him and beneath that…beneath that was the Earth, calm and peaceful in beautiful shades of blue and green.

He closed his eyes and smiled.

New Mages: Final Mix tome #4:
“Salvator Salvandus”
(Regina Angelium Act IV)