The fruitless encounter between Killjoy and Saariel continued. The blows had grown harder, faster and more powerful, but the balance never shifted, the two caught in an endless ordeal. Neither would compromise in their assaults, either verbal or physical.

"These days you can launch warheads and wipe out entire cities with a single press of a button. You must be pretty stupid not to try and do things that way," Killjoy taunted, out of his own frustration more than anything. He moved toward the Angel again, fighting ferociously. Saariel blocked the blows, pondering what Killjoy had said.

"Then why didn t you do that? It would have made more sense than abducting prostitutes." The full voice of Saariel seemed to be receding, no longer an assault on the eardrums. He jumped back from the fight, content to continue the psychological warfare.

"I tried to work on some chemical weapons; it just doesn t work right unless you have the massive amounts of money. Why didn t you just send a plague or something- did your precious God s balls drop off?" Killjoy attempted to avoid agreement with the Angel. He wondered if this could possibly go on forever.

"His motivations are of no concern to me. He is preoccupied most times... working on other things." Saariel knew that the he would have to end this; an eternity arguing with the red buffoon would be a comparable to hell. The answer soon became clear; the end of his thought had been the end of times; Armageddon.

"What, is he making aliens or something? Planning the Rapture?" Killjoy took the silence following as acknowledgement. He got ready to fight again, growing cold in the void.

"Judgement Day is coming, only then can I stop. I am destined to constantly erase what I write in the book of the living, until the end of days." Saariel sensed the oncoming assault and flung himself at Killjoy. The two punched and kicked at each other until they were both on the floor, Killjoy holding the Angel in a headlock.

"Now that is what you should be aiming for. Do you get a holiday when that happens? What happens to useless angels?" Killjoy attempted to choke Saariel, but he'd been there before- it couldn't be done. The Angel grunted but didn't answer, breaking free from the hold. He lashed out at Killjoy, hitting him in the chest. The red figure fell backward before attacking again.

The anger plain on his face, Killjoy tangled his legs into the legs of Saariel and attempted to snap them into pieces. A sound echoed in the blackness that Killjoy never expected to hear. The legs of the angel went limp, the white figure expressing his pain. The red figure kept his legs in the lock, crushing the knees of the angel. Saariel looked up at the sky, the world on the other side of the mirror visible again.

The body of Killjoy sat patiently on the altar. Tiring of the struggle, the Angel planned his escape. The red spirit laughed manically.

"I got you now God boy! Look at me ma' I m killin' an Angel!" His faux redneck voice echoed throughout the darkness. He eventually let Saariel go, content to dwell in his moment of victory; to ponder how he can defeat the Angel forever.

Saariel looked up at the sky again and at the husk of Killjoy. The red spirit turned to face him, the Angel still on the ground. He approached the white figure, lowering his face down to the dots on the pale face.

"I gotta say- the end of the world is a good plan. I like it. Problem is; I don t want to go to hell unless I m going in the hall of fame! So- how bout you tell me how to get out of here, before I have to-"

The large white hands of the angel flew up and grabbed the neck of Killjoy, Saariel springing to his feet, his legs rebuilt.

"You are doomed to suffer for eternity." Before he could reply, the Angel bent Killjoy over his knee, his hands forcing the red back onto it. A loud snap broke through the vacuum, Killjoy now the one shrieking in pain.

"I'm going to solve both of our problems."

With that, the angel looked up at the sky and disappeared into the empty body of Killjoy. The red spirit, now exiled to the mirror, could only watch as his body ran from in front of him, out the window and into the street.


Adam drove along the dusty highway, past the burnt out remains of the military base. He'd been lucky enough to be living in his car most of the time in Hadse, so he was able to easily escape. Dressed in regular clothes, he left the moral graveyard behind him, forced into early retirement.

Empty, his stomach still curdled with the mixture of defeat and humiliation, laced with blood he'd swallowed. The Shadow, a myth- now the only hero Hadse will ever know, was nothing but a fake. Adam tried not to think about it. The radio drifted in and out of range as he felt the anger surge once more.

He'd slipped up; he'd let the corruption which thrived in that hellhole infect him; turn him from a hero to a psychopathic madman. Unable to think out loud, he tossed his empty pistol out the window and into the dirt.

Behind him he heard a rumble; indistinct but he knew what it was. He looked in his rear view mirror, as the skyscrapers near the centre of town collapsed, the cloud of dust spewing from the city entrances. He felt a small sense of satisfaction at knowing the filth in that town had finally got what it deserved- fiery death.

The radio settled on a channel, a news reporter speaking quickly.

"Breaking news- the city of Hadse has been attacked by a breakaway military robot. The machine that was designed to level cities was stopped by a local legend The Shadow. The self destruct feature was activated not long after and has levelled most of the CBD. Emergency services are yet to arrive on the scene; the death toll is estimated to be in the thousands. More on this as it develops."

"That s not the only tragedy in Arizona today as the Cardinals were thrashed by the Patriots over the weekend; 28-0"

Adam turned the radio off as the cloud of dust from the city engulfed his car.