After the elder member of the council leaves the between, I don’t wait around for the others to leave. I have business to attend to, and I have no time to coddle the youth. Ever since my slight brush with death, I’ve lost that instinct to help everyone. I’ve lost faith that everyone can be saved. I know that they can’t. Sometimes, birds shove their young out of the nest to see if they fly or fall. Death is inevitable. War means death. No other way about it. Winning means being able to survive, and hopefully ensuring your opponents lose more than you do. And I for one am quite adept at winning.
Exiting the ruin of a conference room, I head towards the watchtower. One of the few buildings in the former school that still stands. I know Taťána’s final strikes are inevitable. The Undead King is not one to be trifled with. Climbing down the broken stairs into the basement of the watchtower, I gaze deeply into the focusing pool. Unlike some members of the council, I lack complete mastery of my abilities. However, I did invent these watchtowers for a reason. By drawing on the energies all around them and focusing them into the single pool, I can draw on that power to harness my abilities’ wild natures, creating images of the future, clear as day to anyone looking at the pool.
As I begin to draw the power in, the other generals on my side enter. The living have few champions left, and these were the greatest among them. Each of us brought our own armies against the infinite dead, working together despite our differences. Natia Ani Esadze, a renowned former demon hunter, leading an army of trained demon hunters. In any other circumstances, she and hers would be great enemies, but now, we are joined by a greater threat. Lestyr, a powerful mage leading a small group of immensely powerful practitioners. General Morris, a general leading what remains of humanity’s old militaries. Ihnik, a fragmentation of one of the before gods that Taťána somehow offended. And then me, R.P. III, leading what remained of the supernatural school. We were the first targeted by the lich and her undead army, so despite our power, we are the smallest of the armies.
Morris looks at our allies of convenience. “So, R.P., when is this attack coming?” he asks. Of the alliance, he is the one who most trusts my abilities. He’s seen how effective I can be, when sufficiently motivated.
I smile at the general, then turning to the pool, I focus. I pull the world-lines, drifting all around the universe, in. Deep in, and through. Through myself and into the pool before us. The water quivers, lets out a blinding flash, then grows opaque. Images begin to flash, drifting across the still surface. The chaos of battle, a series of walls, the streets of an old city. Other, less sensical things. A dripping water clock, just shy of empty. A murder of albino crows. And, as I was afraid would happen, a collapsing turret. I know exactly what I’ll need to do. I just wish it could be different.
Lestyr speaks first. “I recognize the city in the visions. It’s Rothenburg, an old medieval town in Germany. Don’t recognize the turret, but I haven’t been there in ages, so I might’ve forgotten it.”
“Alright,” Morris says to the group, “I’ll send some of my people to quietly reinforce it. We’ll hold it best we can until your groups arrive.”
I nod. “Do that,” I say. Morris gets on the phone and walks out of the basement. I turn to Lestyr, “Get your people close enough to the town to cause some damage as fast as possible once the battle starts. That water clock means it should be happening soon.” I tell him a half-truth. I can’t risk the magi knowing what I’m planning. They might try to stop me, and kill the world in the process. Lestyr nods to me and vanishes, likely hoping across space to his troops. He’d be there for the battle, and that is all that matters.
Ihnik looks at me curiously. “We are curious what you think will cause our good or misfortune?” they ask. They know something, but I can’t for the life of me tell what.
I choose to joke back. With a smile, I say, “If all else fails, I’m sure Lestyr and his are going to choose to end the world over letting that lich win.” It’s funny, because all three of us remaining in the chamber know it’s true.
Ihnik, however, finds it significantly less funny. “Joke not, the ravens mean this battle may be key to our victory.” And they melt away up the wall. Natia and I stand around a moment, waiting to be certain no one remains within earshot.
Once we are finally alone, Natia turns to me, looking concerned. “What are you planning?” she asks.
I shrug, so she presses, “I recognize that turret. It’s from your tarot deck. I saw it, last I was in your room.”
“Well, that’s just rude,” I joke. Then, shaking my head, I say more seriously, “We can’t win this battle. You, of all people, know that.”
She furrows her brow. “So, you’re giving up. I know you aren’t technically alive anymore, but I thought you cared more about your monsters than that.”
I nod. “I do. But, I’m not sure the option I’m going to take is much better for them,” I reply.
Natia looks at me. “So you do have a plan,” she states, “What is it?”
I smile at her, and give her a quick peck on the cheek. “Something really dumb,” I say.
“Just like you like it,” she replies, shaking her head.
I wave her off. “Let’s meet up again. After we rain some chaos on our enemies,” I tell her, grinning ear to ear.
“You know just the right thing to say, babe,” she jokes, and heads upstairs.
Following her out, I make the appropriate, inappropriate noises of enjoyment watching her leave. She shakes her head as she climbs onto her motorcycle and speeds off. I sit down on a bench in the old courtyard.
With a wave of my hand, the bench grows darker and Al’s featureless body appears beside me. “What is it, Ron?” he asks.
“The battle’s about to happen, in Rothenburg,” I inform him.
“Alright, I’ll take us there,” he says.
“Get the rest of us into some nearby farm, to help,” I give my orders, “Then come right back.”
“What about you?” he asks.
I look at him, sad. “There’s something I have to do first.”
He looks at me, sighs, and asks the pertinent question, “On a scale of stubbing your toe, to ending the world, how stupid is this thing you’re planning on doing?”
I smirk at him. “You know me,” I say, answering the question perfectly for him and not at all for anyone else in the world.
“Well, damn,” he joked right, “The world was nice while it lasted.” And he vanished. Good. The less people here for the next part, the more likely I’ll be able to do it. Anyone who knew what I am about to do would no doubt do everything in their power to stop me. But the ravens and the tower mean one thing. I need to release the chaos that I’d saved for an emergency. The chaos that most of the world in the know thought I’d killed.
I walk to the unmarked grave, just outside the walls of the former school. A grave only four people know exists. Tearing through the dirt, I rip the solid lead coffin out of the ground. It’s too heavy for one person to carry, but fortunately, I haven’t been human in quite some time. It’s also our last hope. Carrying the coffin over my shoulder, I return to the bench in the courtyard, to wait for Al’s return.
The shadow pulls himself out of a nearby tree’s shade a few minutes after I sat down to wait. He takes a single look at the coffin beside me on the bench and mutters loud enough for me to hear, “Damn.”
“Al,” I ask, “Do you have something you’d like to say?”
Al seats himself beside me. “Yeah,” he says, “But I won’t. If you’re pulling him out of the ground, I know you’ve reached your last resorts.”
I nod. “The water clock. Any longer we wait to end the threat, the infinite dead will be quite literally infinite. I can’t afford that to happen. No one who wants life present on earth can. I just have to hope he’s weak enough after the fight to trap again.”
“Let me guess,” Al says with a sigh, “That’s our job.”
I smile at him. “I knew you were clever. Could you get us to the center of town?”
He looks at me, cocking his featureless head with curiosity. “Probably. Why?”
“Because, anyone else sees this coffin, they might figure out what I’m planning,” I explain.
He immediately understands my fear. “And anyone who knows what’s happening would stop you.”
I nod. “Because we’re planning on flanking them, the only people in town right now should be the army proper. They shouldn’t recognize what I’m planning.”
“Not until you’ve opened it, at least,” he adds, “And at that point, it’s too late to stop it. Well, I’ll repeat, existence was nice while it happened.”
“Come on,” I joke, “We’ve stopped Will before. What’s so different this time?”
“Besides the fact that we’re older, weaker, and in the middle of a different literal war? Nothing,” he jokes as he hugs me and the coffin. The darkness ensnares me, chokes out the light. I really hate travelling like this, but in a global war, I can’t afford the time it would take to not teleport. Even though I don’t have to breathe anymore, I can’t help but hold my breath for the duration of the inescapable darkness. After an instant that feels like an eternity, He pulls us out at the top of a bell tower. Taking an unnecessary but deep inhale and exhale, I look around at the city. I can see the gate from our perch. “Thanks for the view, Al,” I say as I stand the leaden coffin up.
“Sure thing,” Al replies, “Figured it’d help you figure out the right time to end the world.”
I sigh. “It will, though again, it’s not going to be that bad. I’m seventy percent sure.”
Al doesn’t believe me. He’s too smart, knows too much. “Do you mind terribly if I don’t have this view for the battle. I’d really prefer to be anywhere else when you open that thing.”
“What?” I ask, “You think he’s still mad about the stasis?”
He chuckles. “It’s Will,” he says, “The monster doesn’t have any other state besides mad as hell.”
I chuckle right back, then say, “Lead the survivors, alright. I can handle this end.”
“Thank you,” Al whispers, then collapses into the shadows of the tower. And I am left to wait. Standing beside the prison we’d specially made for Willard Riley, the End of the All, I waited patiently. Some time in the next few hours, Taťána would show herself. The lich who called herself the undead king would walk through that gate. And the moment that happens, I’ll point the End towards the greatest mystical threat to the helpless humanity below, open the box, and hope Willard doesn’t wake and kill me before I can hide. Not the most clever of plans, but I am willing to do what is necessary to end the undead threat for good. Looking around, I decide the best place to hide within darting distance is inside the bell. He will not look there. He’ll assume a teleporter opened his box, or an ally. I hope. I hope, I watch, and I wait. It is all I can do until the attack begins.
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