268 A World in Collapse
268 A World in Collapse
[POV: Old Nick]
It was utterly disappointing.
My quarry had slipped away just like that, vanishing from the battlefield at the very moment I had begun to savor the meal. Still, there was no real concern in my mind. He would return eventually. Creatures like him always did.
I turned slightly and looked toward Master Sequence.
“Recalibrate George and Dullahan,” I ordered calmly. “Remove whatever remnants of resistance he stirred up. I want them restored to proper functionality.”
Master Sequence nodded immediately, several of his bodies moving toward the fallen pair without hesitation.
I noticed my hand trembling.
The faint shaking annoyed me.
I was not yet fully assimilated with the Source I had gathered. The process required time, and until that time passed, my body would remain imperfectly synchronized with the power flooding through it. That left me in a temporarily vulnerable state, something I found rather irritating.
I walked across the ruined battlefield until I reached the scattered remains of the regenerator.
Gavin.
Though the man preferred to be called War, the title suited his position among the Four Horsemen. The naming had become something ritualistic over the centuries. Every world I consumed eventually produced its own Horsemen, loyal soldiers who helped shape the destruction required to forge paradise.
Dr. Time had always been a fool.
He spent his life searching the multiverse for paradise as if it were some hidden destination waiting to be discovered. The truth was far simpler.
Paradise was something you created with your own hands.
Behind me, Paleman approached slowly.
“I apologize,” he said quietly. “The souls collected from this world were insufficient. That is why your assimilation remains incomplete.”
I glanced back at him.
“It is fine,” I replied calmly. “You did well with what was available. The remainder will come soon enough.”
Paleman lowered his head slightly in acknowledgement.
Among the Four Horsemen, he was the only one who had remained with me from the earliest stages of this long journey. The others had inherited their positions through replacement, each new world providing a successor when the previous one inevitably fell.
Gavin had been a cape from this world.
He had served well.
I would prefer if he continued to do so.
I raised my wrist and allowed several drops of my blood to phase outward. The crimson liquid hovered briefly before falling onto the scattered fragments that used to be Gavin’s body.
The reaction was immediate.
The blood spread across the pieces of flesh like living fire. Muscles reformed. Bones stitched themselves together. Skin grew rapidly over the reconstructed body.
Moments later, a naked man rose slowly from the ground.
The upper half of his face remained heavily scarred and destroyed, the damage from countless battles leaving permanent ruin across his features. For a long time, his eyes had remained sealed beneath the damaged flesh.
Now, they opened.
Gavin blinked slowly as awareness returned.
He dropped to his knees immediately.
“My lord,” he said hoarsely. “Forgive me. I wasted your precious blood on my failure.”
I waved the concern aside.
“Make it up with good work and proper merits,” I told him calmly.
Gavin bowed his head deeply.
My attention drifted toward the earth beneath us.
The Source was still merging with my being. Until that process finished, the wisest course of action would be temporary withdrawal. I had no intention of exposing myself unnecessarily while my strength remained in transition.
Slumber beneath the ground would be ideal.
Before leaving, I addressed the Four Horsemen.
“Spread across the world,” I ordered. “Destroy their military facilities, dismantle their resistance, and begin the cleansing process. This planet will become the foundation for paradise.”
Behind me, Master Sequence completed his work. George and Dullahan stood once again, their minds stripped clean of the interference Eclipse had introduced. They returned to the same obedient stillness they had before.
Paleman stepped forward confidently.
“I shall do my utmost to see your will fulfilled,” he declared.
I nodded once.
“You are dismissed.”
The Four Horsemen dispersed across the battlefield, preparing to carry out their tasks.
Once they were gone, I allowed my body to phase downward into the earth itself. The ruined seabed swallowed me completely as I descended deep beneath the surface, far from prying eyes and any threats that might attempt to interrupt the process.
There, in silence and darkness, I began assimilating the Source.
…
..
.
[POV: Guesswork]
It took a bit of effort, but I finally managed to get the house in order.
Coordinating evacuations on a global scale was supposed to be easier after everything we had already gone through two years ago during the meteor incident. Back then, people moved quickly when the sky itself threatened to crush them. This time, however, things had become far more complicated.
The knowledge of parallel worlds had poisoned the situation.
Instead of fleeing danger, governments and corporations were now trying to bargain for territory, resources, and access to entire untouched realities. Everyone wanted a slice of infinity.
The greed was staggering.
I slammed down the gavel, the sharp crack echoing across the massive conference room.
“Attention, everyone,” I said firmly. “Let’s begin.”
The room fell mostly silent.
Before me sat one of the strangest assemblies of people I had ever helped organize. The conference room was packed with the highest rated capes we could gather on short notice. Heroes, villains, mercenaries, and independent actors filled the seats in uneven clusters, some watching each other with distrust while others simply looked bored.
It was a volatile mixture.
“My name is Sam Moreno,” I began. “Most of you know me as Guesswork. I will be acting as the operator for the Red-Black Accord’s first ever mission.”
I paused briefly to let the name settle.
“This operation marks the first formal alliance between heroes and villains on a global scale. For the first time in recorded cape history, both sides are being asked to set aside their ideological extremes to fight a threat that endangers all of us equally. If this mission succeeds, it will become the precedent for future cooperation between opposing factions of capedom.”
Murmurs spread through the room.
“This is a historic moment,” I continued calmly. “One that may shape how our world survives what is coming.”
A hand rose from the middle rows.
Lightbeam stood up slightly in his seat, his costume glowing faintly with stored photons. The independent hero from Median had a reputation for being effective and extremely blunt.
“I mean, I get it,” he said with a shrug. “Just get on with the program and tell us what to do. But seriously, why do I have to follow orders from you? If we’re going to have a team leader in this operation, shouldn’t it be someone actually on the field?”
Before I could respond, someone else spoke.
Tempest leaned forward in his chair, his expression turning sharp as he looked toward Lightbeam.
“Because Guesswork is the trusted hand running this operation,” Tempest said sternly. “He is also one of the most powerful precognitive analysts working with the SRC. His job is to coordinate information and direct the battlefield. If you decide to be a hindrance instead of an asset, you’ll be creating problems for everyone involved.”
Lightbeam raised both hands defensively.
“Alright, alright, I just asked a question.”
A large man sitting near the villain section chuckled under his breath.
Order leaned back in his seat, his massive frame easily dwarfing the chair beneath him. The kinetic-based hero looked toward Tempest with clear disdain.
“It’s rich hearing that from you, kid,” Order said with a smirk. “Tempest, was it? Leader of the GDF. I seriously doubt you even deserve that position.”
An older man seated nearby sighed softly.
Shaman adjusted the beads around his wrist and spoke in a calm voice.
“Enough, Order. We came here to do good. Let us do good.”
Order glanced at him and shrugged.
“Sorry about that, Shaman.”
Before the conversation could continue, a metallic voice echoed through the room.
The sound came from a massive machine seated near the back rows. The construct’s body resembled a towering armored frame with a single glowing red eye staring from the center of its head.
“I doubt that’s the case for everyone present,” the machine said coldly. “My master sent me here with various resources and technologies for a different reason. I want to make it clear that my master’s contribution to this operation comes with a specific expectation.”
The machine tilted its head slightly.
“My master wishes for the entirety of Deadend to be transported to another world.”
Several people shifted in their seats.
The speaker was Enforcer.
He served directly under the mysterious owner of Deadend, the infamous island sanctuary where outlaws and villains gathered beyond the reach of most governments.
I folded my hands calmly.
“I doubt we can transfer an entire island,” I replied. “However, relocating Deadend’s population has already been discussed and agreed upon beforehand. The terms are written clearly within the contract.”
Enforcer’s red eye brightened slightly.
“A piece of paper means nothing,” he replied flatly. “Especially when spoken by someone like you. A dog of the SRC.”
A few villains in the room snickered.
“I prefer you prove your words through action,” Enforcer continued. “Otherwise you will regret the consequences. Many villains sitting here today have their own arrangements with you. If you think the heroes present can intimidate me, you are severely mistaken.”
The machine leaned forward slightly.
“Trust me when I say this. The last thing you want is for any of us to sabotage your operation. As long as you follow through on your promises, I will do my part.”
Several voices echoed from the villain section.
Shadeclaw leaned back in his chair with a smug grin. “He’s right. We didn’t show up here out of charity.”
Bloodweaver chuckled quietly. “Everyone here has their own deal, Guesswork.”
Iron Serpent folded his arms. “Just make sure the paperwork actually means something.”
I was about to speak again when a woman suddenly laughed.
Her pink cotton-candy hair bounced wildly as she planted one boot directly on top of the conference table. The movement knocked over a few datapads and glasses while she leaned forward with a mischievous grin.
“Maybe we should just kill them off?” she said brightly. “Those who wish to hinder the operation, raise your hands and let me kill you! Hello?! Anyone?”
A headache began forming immediately behind my eyes.
Candyqueen.
She ruled Candyland inside Lockworld and technically owned an entire island-sized territory. With the pace of development in that strange world, it was only a matter of time before her territory turned into a legitimate city-state. On top of that, she had somehow ended up serving as Lockworld’s unofficial ambassador.
That alone made her presence here complicated.
From the villain section, a hooded figure scoffed loudly.
Specter leaned back in his chair and waved a dismissive hand toward her.
“Sit down, sweetheart,” he said mockingly. “You’re a nobody who doesn’t know her place.”
I sighed heavily.
This wannabe Eclipse clearly had no idea what he was provoking. Candyqueen’s smile widened slightly in a way that suggested Specter had about three seconds left before becoming paste regardless of whether he could turn intangible or not.
Before she could act, I raised my voice sharply.
“This is the Red-Black Accord!”
The words echoed through the room with enough force to freeze the moment.
The name itself carried weight.
It had been chosen partly because of Griffin’s colors and Eclipse’s colors. More importantly, it referenced the Red-Black Day, the moment in history when a hero and a villain had united their powers to save the world from annihilation.
I folded my hands and looked across the entire assembly.
“The Red-Black Accord is the first large-scale alliance between heroes and villains,” I continued calmly. “Its predecessor was the partnership between Griffin and Eclipse. Two capes who stood at the absolute pinnacle of their respective classes.”
I paused deliberately.
“They are not here.”
Several people shifted uncomfortably.
“So we will have to settle for you second-rates.”
A wave of murmuring spread through the room.
“Oh, don’t be offended,” I added bluntly. “It’s the truth. In fact, judging by the attitude some of you are giving me, many of you might actually qualify as third-rate.”
The villains glared.
Some of the heroes did too.
“Those of you labeled villains,” I continued, pointing slightly toward their side of the room, “some of you managed to negotiate extremely favorable arrangements to be here. As Enforcer so elegantly demonstrated earlier, certain individuals received reduced sentences, and a few of you even had your crimes waived entirely.”
I leaned slightly forward.
“That is an absurdly good deal.”
My voice hardened.
“Take the fucking win.”
Silence filled the room.
I shifted my attention toward the heroes.
“And those who proudly stand as heroes, don’t ruin this moment either. You are people the public looks up to. Your families are safe and protected under the Accord’s guarantees. In the event that any of you perish during this operation, your families will be cared for financially for three generations.”
Several of the heroes exchanged quiet glances.
“That compensation will never equal the value of a life,” I continued, “but it will at least provide some peace of mind.”
Tempest leaned forward slightly and nodded.
“I agree,” he said calmly. “Emotions ran hot earlier, but things have settled down. Let’s proceed.”
I picked up the remote control and activated the large screen mounted on the wall.
The television flickered to life.
Perfect timing.
The news broadcast was already covering the exact topic I needed everyone here to see.
A visibly shaken reporter stood in front of a massive screen showing footage of destruction across multiple continents.
“Breaking global developments continue to unfold as governments confirm the emergence of four extremely dangerous entities now being referred to as the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse,” the reporter said urgently.
Images flashed behind her.
“The first entity, designated Death, has been spotted descending from mountainous regions across several countries. Witnesses describe a pale-skinned humanoid whose mere movement triggers catastrophic landslides and structural collapse.”
The footage switched.
“The second entity, now referred to as Famine, appears to be a rapidly evolving machinery virus that has already crippled multiple global data centers, power grids, and communication infrastructure. Experts report that the entity manifests a digital face composed entirely of shifting zeroes and ones.”
Another clip appeared.
“The third entity, known as War, is described as a naked man covered in blood who has been attacking military installations around the world. He wields a strange living scarf capable of forming weapons and devastating projectiles.”
The final footage appeared.
“The fourth entity, Conquest, has emerged from the ocean riding what witnesses describe as a mechanical horse. Using unknown technology, this entity has already generated massive tidal waves capable of sinking coastal cities. Reports also indicate that Conquest is assembling an army composed of scavenged mechanical parts.”
The broadcast paused on images of devastation.
Burning bases.
Collapsed mountains.
Flooded cities.
Shattered infrastructure.
I muted the television and slowly turned back toward the room.
“Well,” I said calmly while gesturing toward the screen, “there you have it.”
My gaze moved across heroes and villains alike.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the Red-Black Accord… those are your targets.”