The problem, it would seem, is that power was simply not enough. He wanted more, and he had the knowledge to obtain it. Now, it also seemed, he finally had the time.

Asmodel knew things that only a couple of other beings in all the universe knew, and it was time for action!

The Presence thought of such things as he walked through the beautiful garden. He reached down with his fingers and picked a Belluda Flower, its delicate purple petals swaying in the wind. He held the flower to His nose and breathed in deeply, intoxicated in its scent.

Sometimes, there was truly an advantage to being amongst the mortals. Every so often, a century or so, The Presence put all His omnipotence away, and took the form of some mortal race, so He could walk amongst them and see how they lived, in order to better understand them. This time He had decided to "vacation" on the beautiful garden world of M't'Ki, a homeworld to the displaced Cotati and pacifist priests of Pama, exiles from the Kree. It was a world like no other, bereft of technology, instead one giant botanical garden filled with flowers and trees and small animals of every exotic type and beauty. It was amazing to walk amongst such beauty. He was impressed with all the priests and Cotati had done with a planet that had been all but barren two centuries ago. Being mortal, The Presence swelled with pride, for these were creations that made those or war and pain almost worthwhile.

"Hello."

The Presence turned to see a very beautiful woman standing behind Him. She was a Pama priestess, and her beauty was stunning. In her hands she held a huge bouquet of the most beautiful flowers He had ever witnessed.

"Hello," He said rather enthusiastically. He loved to interact with mortals. Normally He would simply read her mind and see all, but on these "vacations" He stripped Himself of as much of His power as possible. It was a challenge to Him, to figure out His creations without having to resort to using His mighty powers. Even a God needs challenged sometimes.

It wasn't as though He feared for himself when He was powerless either. No mortal could do Him any real harm, He couldn't be "killed," and only His three closest Angels - Michael, Gabriel, and Asmodel - knew that He was not in his normal state.

"Would you like to smell of my bouquet?" asked the beautiful priestess rather coyly. The Presence found her beauty intoxicating, and her movement to him enticing. The Presence would have to ask her why someone so stunning had decided to become an outlaw priestess. It was those kinds of insight that fascinated Him.

"I would love to," said The Presence warmly as she came within touching distance of Him. He bent over and deeply inhaled the beautiful bouquet. Then suddenly He felt something move within the flowers and attach to his face. Then He felt nothing.

As the creature attached to The Presence's face, the beautiful woman transformed into something completely different. Now she was not Kree, she was not even a woman. ‘She' was The Elder of the universe known as the Gardener.

"So it is done. And the games now begin," came a voice from behind the Gardener. From the trees came several other creatures, strangers who did not call this planet home.

"Indeed, Grandmaster and Collector," said the amazed Gardener, "it would appear that Their plan actually has succeeded in its first phase. In his mortal form, the Beyonder known as The Presence was susceptible to the powers of the Star Conqueror. Now, lost in His own dreams, He is unable to regain His power and return to this plane until we let Him. We have captured the very creator of the universe and have Him hostage."

"Yes," said the Collector, wearily. "Now let us hope that They are able to bring their plan to fruition. I fear that if They don't, and The Presence somehow awakens, we will suffer a most horrendous fate."

"Bah," said the Grandmaster, scoffing at the Collector's cowardice, "I have lived long. I fear nothing. Let the games begin . . . "

Michael raised his wings and made his way to the Tower of Gabriel. There, he saw a sight, which sent shock and dismay through his entire body. The once beautiful tower was beautiful no longer. It had been transformed. The beautiful stained-glass windows were now covered in bars. Inside, Michael could see Gabriel, trying to say something, pounding on the windows. No sound came.

"What is the meaning of this madness?" bellowed Michael as he swooped towards the tower to free Gabriel. Suddenly he was struck with a horrific blow, and was sent spiraling downward, until he hit the ground with a thud.

Michael turned, stunned, to see his attacker. It has been Asmodel!

"Sorry, Michael," said Asmodel, rather calmly. "But I have a plan. The Presence is gone, and the only two threats to it are you and Gabriel. You are both going to have to take a ‘vacation' as well. With you gone, I can control the rest, and set my own agenda in motion."

"The other Angels . . . " protested Michael weakly.

"The other Angels will follower their leader. They will follow the strongest. Now, that is I, Michael. I already have many by my side. They feel what I am about to do is just. They feel it is right."

"They will know . . . " Michael tried to announce, feeling suddenly new entities surrounding him

"Some might not follow at first, but I will garner enough to my side. Who will oppose the mighty king - Angel of the Pax Dei? It won't be you or Gabriel. You see, Michael, I have made some deals with some ‘old friends'. They are gonna help me attain everything I ever needed . . . "

"No, you fool," whispered Michael as he recognized the two new entities that stood to each side of him, "How could you let them back up here? How could you align yourself with Them? You are surely mad, Asmodel."

Mephisto and Neron each took an arm of Michael and lifted him into the air.

"I am no fool Michael," proclaimed Asmodel triumphantly, "My plan is perfect. Heaven and Earth will cower before me. The false gods will be scourged. In the end, I will reign supreme. Now, dear Michael, it is time for you and Gabriel to take a vacation. I am thinking someplace warm. Hell, maybe?"

"No . . . " was all Michael could utter before his weakened form was dragged from the Heavens to a deep, dark prison far below.

As the group assembled, Asmodel moved upon a podium and began to speak. His voice was booming, and had a mortal heard it, their eardrums surely would have burst and the hearing would be gone forever.

"Hear me fellow Angels, I, Asmodel, King-Angel of the Pax Dei, have a message for you from The Father. He has watched the events of his precious Earth, and he is not pleased. The Living Tribunal, his keeper of peace, has been slain. The precious balance between good and evil, order and chaos, has shifted."

Murmurs could be heard moving through the Angels. The Living Tribunal had been a very powerful creature. Such a death was no small feat.

Asmodel continued. " . . . and who slew the Tribunal? Those evil creatures that take The Presence's name and power in vain. Those foolish creatures who believe they have power above all others. They style themselves creators. The style themselves masters. They are nothing. They are the false Gods."

Now, the crowd's whispers were getting louder. Amongst the Angels, there were few creatures more reviled than ‘Gods.' Those who think they had the powers of a God. There was only one God, the original, The Presence.

"Well," spoke Asmodel, with a fire and a passion that seemed to captivate the entire audience, "with the death of the Living Tribunal at their hands, The Presence has finally had enough of their kind. They are an infestation that can no longer be tolerated. We will cleanse this Earth of their menace. He has decreed it so. A Holy War will now begin!"

Zauriel decided it would be best to speak with his friend Michael and try to make some sense of this entire mess.

Mephisto put down his glass of wine and waited for his eight cohorts - Neron; Lord Satannish; Belial; Beezebub; Lilith; Shathan the Eternal; Azazel; and the God of the Underworld, Hades - to settle down so he could begin his speech.

"Fellow Lords, I have a most interesting tale to tell you. I have been contacted by King Asmodel, and he has offered me a deal . . . "

To say that shock filled the faces of the other Lords of Hell would be a mild understatement. An Angel had been in contact with one of the Fallen. More still, he had offered some sort of deal. This was incredulous. Nothing had happen like this since they had lost the Great War, and had been cast to Hell.

"It seems we have been offered forgiveness. A chance to make amends and regain favor with him."

Now, snorts of humor, and outright laughter streamed from the mouths of the Lords. This was inconceivable, and completely unfathomable.

Shathan could hold back his comments no longer, "What shall we have to do for the mighty Presence? Grovel? Kiss his feet?"

"Hardly," snorted Mephisto in disgust, "All we have to do, is use our forces to help kill the false Gods of Earth."

The laughter stopped. Many at the table appeared curious and stared intently, waiting for more. Hades appeared uncomfortable.

Mephisto continued, "I know the whole forgiveness thing sounds too good to be true. Hell, I am not even sure I care for his forgiveness. What I am thinking of here is power, new power that we can take for our own. Enemies that we can slay without fear of Heavenly reprisals. A chance to roam the Earth and kill and wreak havoc and mayhem. Now, doesn't that sound like fun?"

The speech had worked. The Lords all had eaten up ever word. It seemed to be an all win situation. What was the worse that could happen? They were already condemned to Hell.

Hades didn't like the way this conversation had gone. He himself was one of those false Gods.

As if they could read his mind, suddenly Neron and Shathan the Eternal were upon Hades, and holding him as Lilith cast a very powerful paralysis spell. Suddenly Hades could not move. Had it been somewhere else, he might have been able to escape or flee. This was Hell, and Lilith's magic was too powerful.

Mephisto walked slowly to Hades, and smiled as he began to speak, "Poor Hades, I am afraid your time as a Lord in this Hell is up. The time of the false Gods is over. Let the blood pour."

His short speech finished, Mephisto pulled a dagger from his cloak. Hades recognized it. It had been forged centuries ago for a human immortal named Solomon Kane. It had been blessed with ancient magic for the sole purpose of killing gods. Kane had tried to use it on Hades once, but Hades had survived when the blow had only wounded him. This time, Hades feared, he would not be so lucky.

Hades fears were correct as Mephisto plunged the dagger deep into Hades heart, then he cut the organ free and held it, still beating. Hades eyes rolled back up into his head. The first false God was dead. The Twilight had begun.

Night watchman Douglas Blane pulled the pistol from his holster as the glow of his flashlight caught the movement of the intruder. Douglas tried to aim his pistol in the movement's presence, but it was too late. With blinding speed, the intruder swung his arms wide, and Douglas felt a light powdering of dust cover his eyes, nose, and mouth. Within a matter of seconds, Douglas lay on the cold floor beneath him, fast asleep.

"Ah, Douglas Blane," softly spoke the intruder as he bent over the sleeping watchman, "I regret to inform you that I am the bearer of ill tidings. Your occupation and O positive blood type are about to lend to your unfortunate and untimely demise. But, if it is any consolation, as you head into the afterlife, your death will help prolong the lives of gods through eternity." His speech spoken, the intruder pulled the sleeping man from the ground and slung him over his back, and carried him into the adjacent room.

The intruder pulled his sleeping captive into an Egyptian room filled with mummies and other artifacts. As he came to a specific glass case, he dropped the slumbering body onto the floor next to it. Sure the case contained the preserved corpse he required, the intruder balled his hands into fists and came down hard upon the glass case, smashing it into hundreds of pieces. Then he picked one of the larger, jagged pieces from the ground, and slit the throat of Douglas Blane from ear to ear. As the blood pooled on the floor, the intruder placed his hands into, then painted a red ankh, the Egyptian symbol of life, across the face of the corpse. Then he began a series of spoken invocations, quietly calling upon the corpse's spirit to return to its former housing. He could feel the magic forming in the air around him, as he preformed the ancient spell's final rite, kissing the corpse on first the forehead, then the lips.

Suddenly, the corpse sat straight up, and let loose a wail that the intruder was sure was heard in Las Vegas. Then the creature sat, strangely silent, seeming to knock the cobwebs from its decayed brain.

"Who in the name of the Elder Gods disturbs my death so? I went to considerable trouble to commit suicide," said the corpse in a slow and creepy voice that sounded harsher than nails across a chalkboard.

"It is I, Set," said the intruder calmly, as he stood before the animated corpse, "who has awoken you, Hermes Trismegistus. I believe the beginning of the Twilight is here . . . "

"And," interrupted Hermes, "You need The SPELL. Then, Elder God, we had best get to work. Just remember, after this, we are even, Serpent God. A life for a life, and when this is done, I shall return to my slumber for eternity. You might enjoy immortality, but eight hundred years on this Earth was more than enough for my tastes."

"Agreed," mumbled Set, almost incoherently, "now, let us began…"

The sighting happened; all over the planet called Earth, in places known for their mystical history and mythical significance. It happened at Stonehenge, England and Dream Rock, Australia. It happened at The Pyramid of the Sun, Mexico and at the Temple of the Eternal Buddha, Tibet. It happened at the Nexus of Realities in the Florida Swamp and at the Sphinx in Egypt.

People who were at these sights saw the bright flash of light, and then watched as Angels descended from the sky. People watched in awe as the divine creatures landed and formed circles. Amazed humans watched as the Angels began to sing a most glorious song.

Then all time on the planet known as Earth came to a stop, as a special spell halted time itself, for all but a special few, of special descent.

With the humans oblivious to what was about to happen, the Gates of both Heaven and Hell spilled opened, and Angels and Devils, The Divine Agents and the Fallen, descended upon the Earth to strike with righteous fury and vengeance.

"My sisters, it has begun," spoke Lachesis as she pulled herself from her sitting chair and placed her knitting needles upon the ground. She watched as her sisters, diverted their attention from their goings-on.

Atropos put down the kitchen knife she had been using to slice the carrots for dinner and made her way into the room. Klotho untangled her hands from the tangled yarn which was stretched across the skein she was manipulating, and came to join her sisters as Lachesis waved her hands and a doorway opened in the wall beside them.

The three sisters quietly followed the winding stone stairs down to the deep, dark cavern that lay below them. Being the three Sisters of Fate, their lives had been both a blessing and a curse. They had control over the very fates of people, their mystical hands manipulating the paths of mankind for centuries, but seeing the paths that destiny leads to also has its downside. The worse of which was now. The sisters now had seen their own fate as it untangled before them. There was little they could do for themselves, the hand of fate could not be prevented, but maybe, just maybe, their powers could live on. A prodigy, a daughter of sorts would have to carry on their legacy.

The three sisters said nothing to each other as they kissed and embraced one another. They had been with each other for a long time now. Their entire lives, centuries old, had been spent together. Now, as their time on the plane waned, tears began to flow down their faces as they stared lovingly into each other's eyes. It wasn't as though they could complain; their lives were long and full, much fuller than normal humans which roamed this Earth. The tears were actually tears of joy, of sorts. They were happy, that in their end, they went out just as they had begun, together.

The Fates then separated to arm's length, holding their hands, then closed their eyes, and concentrated. They began to chant their spell, when they heard the door to the cavern open above. They prayed that they would complete their spell in time as they heard the clatter of boots upon the stairs, and the jingle of the spurs that accompanied them.

As the sisters completed their spell, and hoped they were successful, they turned to watch the stranger finish her descent for the winding stone stairs. They had seen him before, and Klotho remember him from the past. Once, he had been just another Old West rogue, a gunfighter who repented, then lost his wife and child when his past caught up with him. Then he lost in own life. Bitter and clamoring for vengeance, even in the afterlife, he was transformed into The Saint of Killers by the Angel of Death.

As he came into the ladies' view, he began to speak. It was a slow, eerie, cowboy-tinged voice.

"Ladies, this ain't nothing personal, but I have my orders. You are a stain on this world, and you have to go. May God have mercy on your souls, if you have them."

The sisters squeezed each others hands tightly as the Saint of Killers raised his pair of Walker Colt revolvers and unloaded every bullet into the bodies of the three witches. He watched as their bloody forms were pushed back by the blasts against the wall behind them, then made sure that the bodies were cold and dead, and walked back up the stairs to find his next assignments.

Then the visions began. Her head was filled with terrible visions more vivid than any dream she had ever remembered. She saw a beautiful young woman ripped to shreds by hideous looking green demon. She saw a flaming headed biker hang a man with a chain and drag him along behind his motorcycle. She saw people pointed from a secluded mountain city to a dark black cloud in the sky, looming ever closer. She saw a Rainbow Bridge filled with Viking-looking warriors battling winged Angels. She saw herself, along with a blue and yellowed costumed superhero, an Indian mystic, and a man with a red cape and pentagram on his chest standing with an angel.

Irene sat up from her vision with a shock, sweating pouring from her brow. The headache was a dull throbbing now, and manageable. As other visions and thoughts crept from her subconscious to her consciousness, she grasped some understanding of what had just happened to her. She had been selected by her 'grandmothers' to receive a very special gift, a very powerful gift. She must bear the powers of knowing fate. She must be the bearer of mankind's Destiny.

Irene looked at her television. She noticed that the radio was no longer playing. She walked to the window and looked out upon a most peculiar sight. The young boy whom she had invited to mow her lawn was standing there, unmoving, frozen into place. She turned to look at the clock upon her wall and noticed that the hands were no longer moving. It was as though time itself had stopped, but Irene had not stopped moving with it.

Then she felt his presence behind her and turned to greet him. Despite the fact that her visions had shone him to her, she still wasn't prepared to be in the proximity to an Angel. She tried to stair, to grasp the amazing being which stood before her, but she found the light unbearable. She had never seen such beauty before. She felt the tear slide slowly down her cheek.

"Irene Adler?" He said in a voice that brought both agony and ecstasy shivering down her spine.

"Yes, Zauriel," replied Irene, a move that seemed to momentarily startle the Angel.

His composure regained, he held out his hand to her and spoke, this time in a much softer tone, "I felt a calling to come to you. The fate of this planet lies in our hands. The gift of Destiny has been passes onto you. Have you seen what we must do save The Presence and restore order?"

Irene smiled softly as she took the hand, and felt a strange tingling throughout her body, "I have seen much, and the first thing you must know is that there are others who we need to retrieve in order to restore all things."

Naze sat down gently, crossing his legs and closing his eyes. He pulled some sacred powder from his pouch and sifted it into the cool breeze, which swirled around and past him. Something was wrong, he had felt it. It had brought him from his telling stories to the young children of the tribe on a trip up to his sacred spot to speak with the Spirits, to find the cause of his unease.

He was about to begin his chanting when he felt the wind stop moving. That was an odd occurrence in itself, because the wind always blew atop Eagle Rock Mountain. Then he saw the Eagle in the sky. It was not moving, but was frozen in mid-life, suspended with its graceful wings spread out upon the sky. Naze noticed the clouds were not moving either. It was as though all time had stopped, but Naze noticed he had not stopped with it.

Frightened, Naze began to chant for the Spirits in hope of answers. He was shocked to find he could summon none. Nobody came to speak to him. That had never happened before, in his nearly fifty years on this planet, he had never called for one of the Spirits, and they had not came. Naze was a powerful shaman, possible one of the most powerful wielders of magic on this world. He commanded respect, even from the ancient and the dead. He had always been just and wise and respectful, and had been treated in kind, even by those that had passed beyond.

"Naze," spoke a soft female voice, which broke Naze from his meditations and back to reality. He turned to see a most unexpected sight. Standing behind him was two entities. The first was a beautiful young Caucasian female. The second was something different altogether. He had skin of pure white, which matched the beautiful ivory white wings, which seemed to sprout from his back. Upon seeing the man, Naze was filled with a strange sensation of both pain and pleasure, and found he couldn't look directly at the creature for very long without his eyes beginning to burn.

The female continued, "I am Irene Adler, and this is the Angel Zauriel. The world is in extreme peril. Please come with us and all will be explained."

Naze smiled as he stood from his position, marveling at the amazing turn of events transpiring before him. First the Spirits had left him, then time itself seem to have stopped around him, now an Angel and a white woman had appeared out of nowhere and asked him to help save the world. Naze grabbed his walking stick and his pouch of items and joined the two strangers in what he was sure would be a most interesting journey.

The day had started out normal enough. She and fellow Young Gods Calculus and Highnote had decided to 'slum amongst the commoners' - basically, disguise themselves as human and move amongst them. They had been attending the 'Illinois State Fair'. It had been very quaint and interesting enough, with plenty of animals and people enjoying themselves. The three of them had even laugh when they had watched humans attempt to wrestle down young greased pigs.

Then time stopped. The three Young Gods were shocked as the man that had been leaping upon a large greased pig named 'Porkchop' was suspended in mid-leap. The pig had stopped as well, in mid-run. All the people had stopped. All of them were strangely frozen. The three walked around the fair for what should have been about fifteen minutes, amazed that something seem to had frozen time itself, yet they remained unaffected by time stoppage.

The three had decided to return to their other Young Gods and see if they were similarly unaffected when the roar of a loud motorcycle attracted their attention. The three went to investigate, and found a most peculiar sight. There, before them, on the outskirts of an Illinois wheat field, stood seven demons, and a eight one sat on a motorcycle beside them, complete with flaming skull head and a nasty flaming chain.

"Now," said the motorcycled demon, and the other seven quickly sprung from their position towards the three Gods. Highnote was the first to react, and her sonic scream destroyed one of the demons in mid-air, but several others grabbed her and Calculus. Harvest watched in horror as two demons held Highnote's arms wide as a third one plunged it's claws deep into Highnote's chest and pushed her heart out through the other side. Calculus tried to utter something, but His words were reduced to a gurgle when a rune-filled magic blade slashed across his throat from the hands of another demon.

Scared, and unsure what to do, Harvest turned and ran. She loved her fellow Young Gods, but it was obvious that these creatures were out to kill them. She knew that she couldn't stand up to these creatures by herself, with her 'Godly' powers or not. She had thought first to fly, but then she figured she would be too easy spotted, and so she ran to the cornfield, hoping to lose the demonic assassins in the tall stalks. She hoped that they couldn't detect her presence, and didn't appear to have wings for flight.

Harvest couldn't understand what was transpiring. Those creatures were obviously demons. Why would they attack the three of them? They had no Quarrels with anything demonic, and had not come into contact with anyone or thing of that nature recently.

Harvest stumbled on a rock and fell to the ground. She was unhurt, having godlike abilities, but she was scared. That was an odd sensation for her. It had been a long time since she had been scared, fearing for her life.

Harvest heard the sounds of a roaring motorcycle, and quickly stood and began to run with inhuman speed. She couldn't tell which direction the cycle was coming from, and it seemed to be all around. She noticed that she had cleared the cornfield and now was moving into an apple orchard. She noticed as she moved from the cornfield, that the sound of the cycle seemed to fade away and stop. Relieved, she stopped at the trunk of a large apple tree to get her bearings and collect her thoughts, and to plan her next course of action.

As Harvest decided to take the chance of flying, home to the remaining Young Gods and enlist their aid, she felt a sudden burning sensation wrap around her neck. As she struggled she felt herself lifted into the air and looked up to see a burning chain had wrapped around her neck like a noose and now carried her into the air, in an attempt to hang the life from her.

"Why?" she grasped harshly from her burning throat, as excruciating pain began to make her head throb and her eyes burn. She noticed, through blurred eyes, the form of the flaming-headed biker approaching her, with several of the demons behind her. As her lifeforce began to ebb from her body, she remembered where she had heard of this demon before. He was known as the Ghost Rider, a spirit of vengeance born in hell.

The responded, its blank, eyeless stare seemed to penetrate into her very soul, "You are a stain on His world. You are an aberration, which must be expunged with extreme prejudice. There is only one God, and you are not it.

The New God known as Harvest then lost consciousness mercifully, as the body that once housed her soul hung limply from the tree, burning from the hellfire chain which held it dangling from the tall apple tree.

Corrigan was about to walk in the front door when an altercation between two drunken patrons spilled through the door, out onto the street. Then time stopped. It was very unnerving, even for someone with the powers of the Spectre, to see two men in mid-fall through the door, suspended strangely in awkward fighting positions. Corrigan noticed that the blinking, lit sign above the door had stopped blinking, and a couple that had been walking across the street were frozen in mid-step as well.

Then he felt the presences beside him.

"Spectre. Your God needs you."

Corrigan turned to see a most amazing sight. Behind him stood the forms of the King Angel Asmodel and his predecessor Eclipso.

"What in the name of the Presence is going on?" yelled Corrigan, amazed that the Bull Host of the Pax Dei, and the renegade entity stood before him.

"The Presence indeed," said Asmodel calmly, "is why we are here. He has given all of us a mission, including you Spectre, and we have come to enlist your services."

"For what?" asked Corrigan, still in shock.

"For a cleansing. The Presence has decreed that all those that would take his name and office in vain be swept from this planet. The false gods are no longer wanted here."

Corrigan was stunned. "The Presence wants to exile the pantheons of Gods?"

Eclipso laughed, but quickly stopped when Asmodel gave him a harsh look.

"Exile, well . . . " said Asmodel, the glint in his eyes unmistakable, "he wants them gone, by whatever means are necessary."

Corrigan could scarcely believe the words, "You are saying that the Presence has authorized the slaughter of the 'false gods'. I can't believe that."

"Indeed."

Corrigan thought for a moment, then spoke cautiously, "I can't believe that. I won't believe that. The Spectre is for vengeance, not murder. It will not be apart of that. I will not be apart of that."

"You have no choice, Corrigan," said Asmodel, again rather matter-of-factly, "the Spectre will, but if you are not willingly . . . "

"I am not!" said Corrigan angrily.

"Then you are no longer of use to us . . . " replied Asmodel. Before Corrigan even had time to react, he looked down, a fierce stinging sensation burning within his gut. The Spear of Destiny buried deep within his stomach, piercing through his form to the other side.

"Goodbye Jim Corrigan," said Asmodel mirthfully as he and his associate walked away, laughing.

The humans standing around him had not been so lucky. Daimon had been slumming with the normal humans of Hong Kong, disguised as one of them, hoping to locate the deadly Atlantian Sword of Kamuu, a powerful magical artifact that had been linked to a very wealthy English sword collector. Daimon suspected the man had no idea the true power that he held within his collection, and Daimon wanted to secure the piece before the ancient and powerful weapon fell into the wrong hands.

Daimon looked around him. It appeared as though time itself had been stopped. No clocks moved. The people were all frozen into their positions, and nobody but himself seemed to have been aware of the happenings. Daimon wondered what had spared him of the effect, suspecting it had something to do with his demonic heritage. Daimon supposed there might finally have been an advantage to being the son of one of Hell's biggest arch-devils.

Daimon had determined to seek out the cause of the 'disturbance', when he felt another crackle of energy behind him, and felt the sudden presence of something divine. Daimon couldn't help but recoil in disgust, as his demonic heritage came bubbling to the top of his consciousness. Daimon turned and saw, standing before him, unaffected by the spell, just as him, a gathering of three individuals. One was a middle-aged American Indian, and Daimon could feel his shamanic abilities radiating around him. Another of the trio was a Caucasian female, and she had a mystical aura which even Daimon couldn't decipher. The third entity, and the cause of Daimon's revile, was an angel from Heaven above. Daimon knew something big must have happened, for an Agent of the Presence to seek out the Son of Hell.

"Daimon Hellstrom?" asked the woman.

"What has transpired here?" asked the impatient Hellstrom. He didn't like anything that was occurring at all. He knew they were here to ask him to help them, because they hadn't simply attacked. Daimon had never been a big fan of group dynamics, he was just a little too hot-headed and impulsive for such things.

Zauriel stepped forward to speak, "Heaven and Hell have combined their forces to hold the Earth in a powerful spell and murder the world's 'false Gods'."

Daimon could hardly stifle his laughter, "The mighty Presence is allowing this?"

Zauriel's look became very sullen as the mention of the Presence seemed to disturb him, "The Presence is . . . absent . . . as are Michael and Gabriel. I think Asmodel and the Arch-devils had done something with them. Their location is something we are trying to discover."

Daimon was truly enjoying this conversation, much to the seeming annoyance of the trio, " . . . and you are here to seek my aid? Why would I want to help you?"

Destiny, the woman, stepped forward once again, "You will aid us because you find it enjoyable to do so. You will be standing against both Heaven and Hell and shaking your fist in defiance of them both. In the end, when we are victorious in our mission, you will have the satisfaction of knowing that you thwarted the plans of some of the most powerful entities in the universe."

Daimon was impressed. The woman must have had some psychic, intuitive abilities, because what she said spoke right to his personal feelings. He did indeed enjoy thwarting the plans of his father, whom he hated with a passion. He also liked the idea of going up against some of this universe's most powerful. He decided the hunt for the sword could wait, this would surely be a much grander adventure.

"Okay," replied Daimon, "you have talked me into it. What is the plan?"

Irene smiled warmly. "We have to make one more stop, and I believe that the solution to our problems lies there."

" . . . and that would be where?" asked Zauriel, curiously.

"Salem, Massachusetts."

Set closed his eyes and concentrated on a specific individual. Normally, when the Earth was not under a massive spell that held those with demonic or divine heritage in stasis, the spell was impossible to use, because it was too hard to pick one individual out in a sea of several billion, even when that entity was divine. Now, Set had little difficulty locating his target. He just hoped that the use of such power did not attract the attention of any of the devils or angels that were roaming the Earth, slaughtering anything with a 'God' heritage.

Set smiled as he located his query. It was hardly suprising that this individual was currently here, in Cambodia. This area of Earth was currently a hotbed of bloodshed and conflict. The perfect place for a God of War.

Set found him sitting in a small hut, looking as though he was brooding over something. He was outfitted in his traditional dark blue armor, flanked to one side by a large mace and an automatic rifle in the other. Set met the penetrating stare of the glowing eyes, the rest of the God's face hidden behind his massive war helmet.

"What transpires here Elder God?" asked Ares as Set looked for someplace to sit, "One minute there was a delicious war going on, the next all the stupid human cattle were frozen in their tracks."

"We are under attack," explained Set. "The armies of Heaven and Hell have besieged the Earth in hopes of cleansing it of all 'false Gods'."

"And you are here to form an alliance?" asked Ares, understanding the gravity of the subjects. All the humans combined held little chance of stopping the Gods, thanks to their powers and invulnerability, but devils and angels were another situation entirely. Their mystic and divine powers could harm the Gods, and if both were working together, then this was a dangerous situation indeed.

"I am here," replied Set, "to offer you sanctuary from the attack, and a chance to not only survive, but to thrive once this whole battle is over, in a new and powerful pantheon of Gods."

As much as Ares hated to ignore a battle, this was an offer he could not refuse. Ares nodded in agreement, and joined Set as the two flew off towards Europe, and Set explained everything he knew of what was transpiring.

"These are strange events indeed," whispered Anodyne to her lover Thor as they also began to fly after the two Gods.

"Indeed," replied Thor. "Me thinks Midgard is in most horrid peril. Perhaps Ragnarok itself has come to pass."

"The Twilight of the Gods?" asked Anodyne, curious.

"'Tis a possibility," said Thor as the two followed the two Gods to wherever they led.

Zuras had decided to halt the journey out amongst the humans, so that the elders could go to Council and try to determine the cause of this spell, which seemed to loom menacingly over the Earth. The Council had barely begun to concentrate when word that outsiders had come to their city, seeking refuge.

Zuras had gone to greet them, and found himself in the Presence of those dubbed the Young Gods, or at least some of them. The news, which they carried, was most disturbing. The Eternals listened in horror as Daydreamer of the Young Gods explained what they knew. It seemed Heaven and Hell had come to Earth, claiming a Holy War, a Jihad, against all whom would call themselves Gods. Daydreamer explained, with tears in her eyes, about the deaths of Calculus, Harvest, and Highnote, which they had seen through a psychic bonding held by all the Young Gods. She also explained how the agents of the Presence had stopped time on Earth with a powerful spell, and how they were sweeping the world, destroying anyone or anything that claimed 'false godhood'.

Zuras took the Young Gods into the Council and added their powers to the circle. A new strategy was being mapped out. Zuras had decided to combine everyone's powers and journey out into the world psychically, to see if the situation was a grievous as the Young Gods made it out to be.

As the Council concentrated, and spread their minds collectively out into the world, they found that indeed the situation was worse than they had suspected. They watched in horror as devils, demons, and angels, in mass, planned and attacked 'Gods' across the globe. The Council watched in horror as the Helipolitan Death God known as Grog was beheaded by the ancient entity known as Eclipso. They watched in revile and disgust as the angel known as Tabris place his sword deep inside the gut of Susano-Wo, upon top of Mt. Fuji.

Suddenly the picture worsened as the group seemed to find themselves just miles away from their own location, at the edge of the Andes Mountains. At first the picture was far away, and it looked as if a large black cloud was making it's way toward their home. Then the Council noticed it was no cloud. It was bodies. Hundreds of twisted demonic forms, their leathery wings flapping in the wind. At the head of the group was a horrid looking creature. Zuras felt he would have been much at home with the Eternal's enemies, the Deviants, deep in the bowls of the Pacific Ocean. He was a sickly green demon, with a long snout, cloven hoofs, and glowing red eyes.

The creature looked up, as if feeling the presence of the Council around him. Impossible, thought Zuras to himself.

The demon seemed to smile. "I feel you there," the demon replied happily, "We are coming for you. N'Astrih and his army are coming to rip and tear and shred your flesh. We will render you limb from limb and feast on your bones. The blood of the Eternals will flow like a river."

The Council 'awoke' from their psychic travels, all were alarmed and scared. The army of N'Astirh had filled the skies, hundreds of demons would soon swarm upon them.

Zuras decided there was only one course of action that could save them. They must leave the Earth.

"Quickly," cried Zuras, as he made his way out of the council chamber. "Gather everyone into the Pavilion of the Stars, we must form the Uni-Mind and leave immediately."

The members scattered. Moments later, the great horns were ringing, which was a signal that the Uni-mind was to be formed. Zuras prayed there would be enough time, as the keen eyes of young Eternal Sprite already saw the cloud of demons moving quickly towards Apacita.

"There will not be enough time!" said Zuras solemnly as others gathered around him, and helped him lead the masses into the pavilion. The chanting necessary to create the Uni-mind had already started.

"Then a distraction is necessary," declared the Eternal known as Ajax, as he stepped forward. "The masses must be allowed to escape . . . "

"No," cried Zuras, "I cannot allow you to sacrifice yourselves . . . "

'It must be done," said Ajax bravely as he grabbed his sword and began to fly towards the oncoming hoard.

"He stand no hope by himself," Zuras heard someone say, as he watched in horror as others began to join Ajax. Gilgamesh the Forgotten One and The Eternal known as Valkin, amongst others, flew to join him. So did Brightsword and Sea Witch of the Young Gods.

Zuras then watched in horror as his daughter Thena, went to join the group. He watched as Ikaris made his way to join them as well, then Thena whispered something in his ear. A sullen look on his face, Ikaris agreed, then bowed his head solemnly as Thena kissed him upon his forehead, and headed to join the assault squad.

Ikaris quickly made his way to Zuras, and pulled the Eternal leader into the Pavilion.

"They have made their choice," said Ikaris sadly, a tear flowing down his face, "now do not let their sacrifices be in vain."

Zuras and Ikaris joined the remaining Eternals and Young Gods, chanting and raising their arms in unison. Soon, their bodies and minds were melding into one form, the Uni-mind. As the gigantic form reached it's full potential, it began its ascent into the sky, it's destination somewhere in the stars, somewhere far away from the tragedy that was about to occur.

As the Uni-mind climbed high into the air, it turned a fraction of its attention to the battle below. The entity watched in unified sadness as the small, brave band of heroes distracted the onslaught of demons. They watched as one by one, the group was overwhelmed, and all the heroes were slaughtered, torn to bits in a most gruesome fashion.

Hermes disliked having been awakened from his glorious eternal sleep. He liked even less having to do the bidding of the god Set. He was sure though, that Set figured himself safe and secure in his plan. He was wrong. It was Hermes who had contacted Thor and Anodyne, and even now, hid their presence from Set and Ares. Hermes knew Set's plan, to create a small pantheon of Gods to rule the Earth. Hermes wouldn't allow Set the satisfaction. When the time came, the balance would be kept, and Set's plans will come to a most unexpected fruition.

"The Doctor is within," said Destiny confidently as she walked up the wall of the Tower. Without so much as a single hesitation, Irene Adler walked up to wall, which contained no door or any other seeming means of entrance, and walked right through. Naze and Zauriel followed quickly, leaving only Daimon Hellstrom outside.

"I hate this guy," mumbled Daimon, as he made his way through the wall, "so uptight and arrogant."

The four found themselves standing in an empty stone chamber, which contained no doors or windows, or any furnishings. Seconds later, the Doctor appeared.

"Doctor Fate, we need . . . " began Zauriel.

"I know why you are hear," interrupted Fate. "This blood war has greatly disturbed the balance between Chaos and Order. Chaos has shifted fully into control. The balance must be set right, before it causes the extinction of this very planet. Other more powerful creatures have noticed the shift and have begun to make their own plays for control."

"Okay," said Daimon Hellstrom, bored from all the talk and no action, "so what are we gonna do about all this now that the gang is all here?"

"I believe," declared Dr. Fate, "that would be where my other visitor this day comes into play."

"What other visitor?" asked Zauriel curiously.

"The King of Dreams," said Dr. Fate, rather matter-of-factly. "Morpheus claims that the Presence is trapped in his realm."

Amora woke from the vision, screaming and sweating. Her lover, Skurge, awoke from his dreaming with a start, and sprang from the bed, grabbing his gigantic battle axe, prepared to battle whatever foul creatures had beset them. He found only himself and Amora, there in their bedroom, bathed in the light of the stars.

"What ails you my sweet?" asked the perplexed Skurge.

Amora seemed to pause, a moment of contemplation, to regain her thoughts, then turned to her lover. Skurge noticed the look a confusion and sadness in her eyes.

"I had a vision," Amora whispered, wiping the sweat from her brow. "There are creatures coming. Ancient winged warriors from another realm. They mean to destroy us all . . . "

Skurge searched the room for his armor, proclaiming, "Then we will fight . . . "

Amora looked scared, "Lover, we must go to Odin immediately. Warn the others. I fear that our Ragnarok may soon come . . . "

He was the first of the Norse Gods to see the attackers coming. He could scarcely believe his own eyes when the sight befell him. They came in a giant flock, not just a few, but an entire legion. Angels. Scores of Angelic warriors, with their white wings flapping, carrying swords which burned bright with white energy.

Heimdall was unsure what to do. Though he had heard of the creatures, which occupied the realm humans called Heaven, he had never seen one before, much less a vast score of them. Heimdall noticed, as the pack drew ever closer, two pulled ahead of the group and made their way towards his station at the Bridge's edge. He noticed that the one in the lead looked to be quite a formidable creature. He wore armor, which bore hundreds of eyeballs, looking in every direction. In his hand a huge broadsword crackled with burning energy. His face did not appear to be one of mirth, but of a very serious nature.

"Ho, friends," replied Heimdall, "that is quite a procession. What business doth thou have at mine Bridge and in my homerealm?"

"I am Asmodel," proclaimed the armored angel, as he came to stand a few feet before Heimdall, "Bull-Host of the Pax Dei. I bring you and all your brethren the message of the great Presence himself. The time of the false gods is over. Your kind will no longer be permitted to stain this, or any realm."

Heimdall could scarcely believe his ears, as he smartly pulled his blade from beside him to parry to blow of Asmodel's sword. As the blades struck, Heimdall fell to one knee. Even if Asmodel wasn't stronger, the energy, which pulsed in his blade, was far stronger than the enchantment in Heimdall's blade. Heimdall wasn't sure he could keep this battle up very much longer.

"You are mad!" proclaimed Heimdall, as he parried another blow, noticing that his sword was beginning to crack.

"Hardly," proclaimed Asmodel, the fire and fury in his eyes matched with the huge smile upon his lips.

Heimdall attempted to parry the next vicious blow, but watched in horror as his blade shattered, and the sword of Asmodel plunged deep into his chest, piercing several organs, and exiting out his backside. Heimdall felt the burning energy of the blade's pure, white light for just a moment, then died bleeding upon the Bridge he had spent his whole life protecting.

"Onward," cried Cheriour, the Angel who had stood behind Asmodel in the battle, "One of the scum has fallen, now let us finish the rest of the vermin!"

The Angels crossed the bridge in Asgard, but found that the realm seemed to be quite deserted. Asmodel suspected that their fight might not be quite as easy as first anticipated. He knew the Asgardians wielded powerful magics, and perhaps someone had seen their arrival coming.

"They have gone into hiding?" asked Cheriour to Asmodel, curious as to where their prey had gone.

"No," replied Asmodel, his eyes squinted in annoyance, "this is something else. Running is not the style of the Asgardians. Besides, where would they run? Mephisto promised to deal with Hela, and seal off her realm, and I doubt Titania would allow them into Faerie. No, they are here, somewhere."

The Angel known as Bahram came forward, "No, they are here. It took me some time, but I feel them. All of them. They are all together, in the center of this realm. They are all gathered around something."

Asmodel smiled, "Of course. They are ready for us. They are gathered at the Yggdrasil, the World Tree. This will be a glorious battle indeed. Onward!"

As they made it within viewing of the tree, they saw them. All of them. They were heavily armed and armored. They stood side-by-side, united together, ready to battle the Angels. Asmodel had done some studying of them, and so made a mental note of those present. All those that were in the realm seemed to be here, including Balder, the witch Karnilla, even the old man Odin himself. Asmodel also noticed Hela was not present. It seemed Mephisto had completed his end of the bargain, killed the Norse goddess of the Underworld, and sealed the realm off for good.

Odin strode to the front of the Gods, and began to speak, the anger in his voice unmistakable, "You have murdered one of ours, at least, and tend to do more harm. If it is war you creatures want, then we were surely oblige."

"You are outnumber and outskilled false god," screamed Asmodel. "Do yourselves a favor and simply bow kneel down, and die. You are vermin that shall be exterminated."

"Outnumbered?" smiled Odin. "You art indeed the fool your ‘ally' made you out to be . . . "

Asmodel didn't understand what was happening, his ‘ally'?

"You see, Asmodel, you were betrayed," Odin continued. "Mephisto sent a word of your attack. So we made a few deals, and I would say thy odds are nigh what you thought they would be."

Asmodel watched as trolls marched over a nearby hill, lead by Geirrodur, King of the Trolls. He also watched in annoyance as the Storm Giants approached from another side. But the greatest offense of all was saved for last. Suddenly, the realm crackled with energy, and a portal opened. From the portal stepped Hela, behind her the legions of the dead. From the skies came the Valkries, riding their winged steed, ready for battle.

"Damn," Asmodel muttered as he prepared for the battle. Mephisto had betrayed him, and when this battle was done, he would be destroyed. As Asmodel's anger grew, he considered simply falling back, and regrouping, seeking Mephisto out for his betrayal, but . . .

Suddenly, the Angel known as Araham flew to Asmodel's side. Asmodel noticed he looked worried.

"Asmodel," replied Araham, "something has gone wrong. The Rainbow Bridge has been broken, its link with Earth severed. It has been destroyed, and I can smell the stench of Hell all around. We can not leave this realm that way!"

Another betrayal by the devils, thought Asmodel. Mephisto knew they could not reach Heaven from this dimension, and so he betrayed them, trapping them here, and forcing them to fight greater odds, hoping that they would either be trapped, or die here. At another time, he might have admired Mephisto's brilliant strategy, but not when it was he whom had been betrayed. When all the Asgardians were gone, he would make Mephisto's death long and slow and very painful.

Asmodel had little time to worry about that now though, for the denizens of Asgard, as well as Hel and Niffleheim, were upon them.

"What are you doing Loki?" asked Set as they made their way closer.

"Scrying, Serpent God," replied Loki, watching the scene magically cast upon the pond very intently. "I came to see what was transpiring in my home realm, and found quite a scene. It seems the Angels of Heaven are intent on destroying every one in the realm. Alas, my poor Asgardians, I knew them well. It is a shame I am missing all the fun . . . "

Ares turned when he noticed an awful smell fill his nostrils. Nearby, he saw the charred forms of two demons, their bodies badly burnt and contorted in awful ways.

"I assume," said Loki, watching as the Asgardian Hoder was run through with a sword, "you two are here because this situation isn't simple an attack on Asgard?"

"Yes," replied Set. "The legions of Heaven and Hell have aligned to eliminate all those they consider ‘false gods'. I have found a way to survive the onslaught, and was hoping the recruit a ‘few good men' to join me in a new, powerful pantheon. Are you interested?"

"Why not?" replied Loki. "Looks like my old one is on the edge of extinction."

Loki took one last glance at the pool, them stood, and join the other two. As they were about to depart, a new image appeared in the people. This one was of Hermes Trismegistus, the immortal Egyptian mage bound to aid Set in his quest to create his dark pantheon.

"There is a problem," replied the ancient mage.

"What problem is that?" hissed Set, annoyed. He didn't quite trust the mage. They had dealt with each other in the days when the Egypt was the power that controlled much of the world. Set didn't like him then, and the centuries had done little to alter those feelings. Set considered, and decided when he was no longer necessary, Set would prepare a fate most awful for the mage. Hermes craved death, so maybe Set would leave him to live forever, bound, and picked at by carrion birds in the baking, desert sun.

"There are problems with the spell, you will return, with your allies, immediately to my chambers," replied Hermes, uninterested in Set's annoyed tone.

"Fine, mage, we are coming," replied Set, contempt dripping from his voice, "but this had better be good. We still need to retrieve Kali and Siva."

As the image disappeared from the pool, the three Dark Gods lifted themselves into the air and began their journey to Hermes's laboratory.

Anodyne knew she didn't have the strength to stop and rationalize with Thor in his current state, so she used some of her magic to aid her. Concentrating, she released magic from her fingertips into the Thunder God. Anodyne watched as the magic flowed through him, relaxing and calming him, hopefully long enough for her to reason with him.

"Thor, please stop," whispered Anodyne, her voice adding calm. "Think before you react this time."

"Lady Anodyne," declared Thor, "surely you see the gravity of this event. Set is gathering some of the world's most dangerous Gods together for reasons yet unknown. We must stop him. Worse still, he hath brought my devious brother into his fold. No good can come of this."

"I agree lover," whispered Anodyne. "But there are two things you musty consider. First, can you and I stop them? Second, do we want to YET? Perhaps there is something bigger going on here . . . "

"Damn," replied Thor, interrupting her, as he noticed the three Dark Gods make their way to the sky. "It looks as though we have little time to decide. They are on the move again. I hate this cowardly stalking, but what you say, Lady, makes sense. We will follow them to their next destination. Perhaps they will stay there, and we can go retrieve aid from my fellow Asgardians, or friend Hercules."

With that the two quickly took their pursuit of the Dark Gods, moving westward back towards the United States.

Their war was now coming. The Gods of Olympus watched as the skies around their home turned dark, not from clouds or the coming of night, but from hoards of winged demons in the skies. It looked as though the entire legions of Hell had spilled from the bowls of their dark home and had erupted upon their home. The Olympians stood unified, waiting for their enemies to strike, watching them circle, hovering, apparently waiting for something or some signal. The Olympians watched as one winged, horned, red-skinned devil pulled himself from the group, and came to hover a hundred yards from where the Olympians stood. Artemis prepared to fire an arrow at him, but Zeus stopped her, as he noticed that the creature held something in his hands. They watched as he dropped the object, watching it begin its descent, then he bowed and returned to the demonic hoards.

The Olympians watched as the object came speeding down. Anticipating its trajectory, the Olympians separated, and watched the bowling ball-sized object hit the ground with a harsh thud. They noticed it was in fact a head. As the Olympians looked they recognized the head. It was Hades, the Olympian God of Death.

The devils and demons began their descent onto Olympus.

Zauriel wished he could join them. In all his years, he had finally found a case where being an Angel of Heaven was actually a hindrance, instead of help. The four heroes were heading into the Dreaming, a place where no Angels could enter, because Angels never sleep, and therefore can never dream.

Zauriel could do nothing but watch as Naze began to chant, in the language of his ancient people. The song was sweet and sad and beautiful, and impressed even Zauriel. He watched in amazement as the four heroes each began to tire, yawn, and eventually fall into a slumber. They were all asleep now, and Zauriel hoped they were being welcomed into the Dreaming.

Zauriel prayed that they would find the Presence and find a way to break his slumber. Zauriel watched over the four sleeping bodies, hoping that his effort to get them this far would be enough to save everything he held dear.

"Amazing . . . " whispered Naze. He had never seen anything so beautiful in all his life.

"This is HIS doing," said a voice which caused the four adventurers to turn. Behind them stood the tall, thin, white skinned form of Morpheus, the ruler of the realm of the Dreaming.

"It has been growing since he came here. Even without his full powers, his mind and will are very strong. He is reshaping my realm to his liking. This cannot happen. Come, we will venture into his garden and see what we can do about returning him to his rightful home."

The four watched as Morpheus parted them and stepped off the ledge, gliding down gently to the vast garden below. Smiling, Irene Adler fearlessly did the same, followed by Naze, leaving only Daimon and Dr. Fate. Fate noticed Daimon was reluctant to attempt a similar measure.

"I can fly anyway," Fate said mockingly towards Daimon as he to stepped off the ledge and floated towards the group below.

"Stuff it!" yelled Daimon as he ran towards the edge and propelled himself off. He soon found that he was falling uncontrollable towards the ground below. Unlike the others, who softly glided to the forest below, Daimon fell to the ground with a harsh thud.

"Anybody who laughs is gonna eat fist . . . " remarked Daimon as he noticed Naze and Irene smile, and could feel Dr. Fate was doing the same under his mask.

"Let us proceed please," said Morpheus, unamused.

The group found the Presence sitting by a small flowing stream. He was laying on his back, eyes closed, seemingly realized. He was surrounded by flowers in a variety of vibrant colors, and a small family of birds were happily chirping on a low-lying branch beside him.

"He looks so happy . . . " commented Dr. Fate

Daimon had seen and heard enough, he couldn't take it anymore. With a wicked smile he summoned up all his strength and, at the top of his voice, bellowed "Hey God, Wake Up!"

The others watched in shock as the man sat straight up with a start, sending the small animals scurrying and the birds flying all around.

"Hello," the Presence said simply, dusting himself off, and sitting himself cross-legged on the ground before them. He beckoned them to come and sit down with him. Naze and Irene quickly did so, followed by Dr. Fate. Only Daimon and Morpheus were slow to join them.

"Not what I expected." said Daimon, unimpressed. This was the creator of the universe sitting before him. All he saw was a simple creature. Still there was a certain air around him, which seemed to command respect, and so Daimon grudgingly joined the group, although he chose to stand several feet behind the rest of the group. He felt Morpheus standing close-by, behind him.

For several minutes, the group seemed unable to start a conversation. For the four adventurers, the situation was awkward to say the least. Before them sat the most powerful being in all existence. He had lived billions of years and created everything in being. What does one say to someone like that? Even Daimon seemed to be at a loss for words.

Morpheus was the first to speak. "These four bring you word of what is transpiring outside the Dreaming."

Dr. Fate was the next to speak, and soon the others were chiming in. The Presence's face went from blissful calm to sadness to great anger. What he was hearing was utter madness. His very angelic army upon the Earth, slaughtering people. The planet held in stasis, as blood seeped into its very pores. He had been ignorant and foolish, spending his time in his Dream Garden, ignoring the threats, which could now destroy everything. Such an event surely was disrupting the balance between Chaos and Order. Death was surely gaining the upper hand over life. Soon, entropy would gain power and possibly destroy the whole universe. He must return and set things right. He would not let his precious creation be destroyed by the foolish machinations of Asmodel and Mephisto.

"How can I leave here?" asked the Presence, puzzled. "My body, mortalized, lies in the gardens of the Pama Priests and the Coatl, probably guarded by the Elders who imprisoned me. I am held asleep by the Star Conqueror, which is attached to my face and holds me in this slumber."

"I have considered this," decreed Morpheus, "and I believe I have a solution."

"Why have you called me back here?" bellowed the angry Set. "You know the Twilight is drawing ever closer near and I still need to retrieve the other two Dark Gods to finish the circle and prepare for our ascent as the new ruling pantheon of this world."

Loki lagged behind Set and Ares as the two strode confidently into, what appeared to be, an alchemist magician's laboratory. Even for a God, the whole story had been hard to absorb. First, the armies of Heaven and Hell had stopped time upon this planet, and had spilled forth from their domains to Earth. Second, their intent was to kill all Gods they deemed to be ‘false gods', including those of the Norse, Greek, and every other race. Set had informed him that even as they spoke, The Angels were moving against his Asgardian home, killing everyone that could find.

Lucky for Loki though, Set had offered a solution, and apparently this mage, Hermes Trismegistus, was the keeper of the power. Loki was still skeptical though, and as he walked into the room where the mage stood, he could fill something amiss. There was an aura of powerful magic in the air. There were few wielders upon this plane that could wield such power, but Set had informed Loki that Hermes was no ordinary human. He said Hermes was the greatest alchemist that had ever lived, and that he had discovered the secrets of eternal life.

The three Dark Gods watched in amazement as the mage known as Hermes Trismegistus laughed cruelly at them, confusing them.

"You, Set," said Hermes, barely able to stifle his laughter, "are a blind fool. What do you think would be left to rule? If the unholy alliance of Heaven and Hell succeed, then the entire universe will be thrown into catastrophic chaos and will probably cease to exist. If their mission fails, then you will be no better off than before. Still, I have feeling they will fail, so I have prepared a few surprises of mine own. These are my thanks for awakening me from my much desired slumber. I killed myself for a reason, and now you will see why life amongst the humans is something quite intolerable."

"What treachery is this Hermes?!" shouted Set, clutching his staff and preparing to incinerate the conniving mage. "I will personally see to your eternal pain if you have moved to cheat me."

"Hardly," said Hermes, coldly, "Destiny cries for balance, and I will maintain it so. Look behind you fool."

Suddenly the three Dark Gods looked behind them, and a swoosh of air met them. Then two streaking forms entered the room. One quickly crushed into Loki, knocking him to the ground.

"What evil doth transpire here?" cried Thor, standing above his unconscious brother, his companion Anodyne beside him.

"How in the hell," asked Set, as he mentally prepared a death spell, "did you find this place, Thunder God?"

"As I said," Hermes replied, smiling, "the balance will be maintained, and the arrogance of foolish Gods will be humbled."

Suddenly, the doors to the room closed, sealing the six occupants inside. Anodyne quickly turned, and tried to open the doors behind her, but found they were locked with a powerful magical spell, and unable to budge. Then Hermes began to whisper softly, and the other four conscious inhabitants watched as lines of energy filled the room, covering the floor, walls, and ceiling. The lines connected together, and formed one giant, room-sized circle pentagram of magic.

Set realized that Hermes was casting some sort of powerful spell upon all of them, and turned to fire a blast of energy from his serpent staff at the mage. His blast went straight through the form, destroying what appeared to be little more than an illusion.

"What are you doing, mage?" screamed Set in utter frustration.

"Why, something wicked, dear Set . . . " laughed Hermes, as the room was filled with chanting.

Each of the four awake inhabitants - Thor, Anodyne, Set, and Ares - fell to their knees as they felt powerful magic sweep over them, consume them, and feel every once of their bodies tingle with energy.

"What you are feeling now," proclaimed Hermes, "is your ‘Godly' bodies being taken from you. Soon, your nothing will be left but your immortal souls, and they will soon be on their ways to brand new homes. Human homes. While the Angels and Devils that are waging this war are fools, because their antics could possible destroy all existence, they are correct in one aspect. You are arrogant. This will teach the five of you a lesson. A lesson in humanity. Goodbye."

The four awake Gods watched in horror as their bodies crumbled to dust, and they felt their very essence move into the air, then suddenly, there was nothing but darkness.

"By the bowels of Hell!" Daimon exclaimed as he, and the others also awoke from their slumber to find themselves in similar situations. It had been the idea of the King of Dreams. He found the outlaw Priests of Pama where they had been dreaming in his realm, lost in their own slumber. Then he went to them, explained the situation, and asked if they would let their conscious lie in slumber, while the minds of the four heroes entered their bodies and attempted to save the Universe. Being the peace-loving protectors that they are, the Priests had no qualms about sharing their forms.

The four heroes awoke in the Priest's sleeping quarters and looked around at one another. Several other Priests were also in the room sleeping, but as the four awoke and looked around, it was easy to identify themselves, as they stared at their new forms and marveled at their new bodies.

"Amazing," mumbled Irene Adler. "Just a few days ago I was an ordinary woman, now, I am inside the body of an alien creature, rescuing God to save all of existence. It is a little overwhelming . . . "

"Yes, well," said Dr. Fate, seemingly annoyed. He didn't like being away from his form or her powers, "How are we going to save the Presence? The Elders can be extremely powerful, and we don't have the magic, which we wield in our earthly bodies. What is more, I doubt these pacifist priests have any weapons which will be of much use to us."

Daimon rolled his Kree form's eyes. "We don't need to fight them overtly. We just gotta get to the Presence and get that thing off this mug, then he can start kicking tail. Guess this one calls for a little stealth and tact.

The Priests made their way close, and the Collector noticed that they bore huge baskets brimming over with a variety of fruits and vegetables. Although, because of his existence as one of the Ancient Elders, he no longer had to eat, that didn't mean he didn't choose to. Have established himself as the Collector, he had tasted some of the most exotic and rare tastes in all the universe, and the brimming, beautiful foods which were coming his way looked to be of the finest and tastiest quality.

The closest of the Priest, a beautiful, young pink-skinned Priestess, made her way to directly in front of the Collector, and laid the basket before him.

"These, visitor," spoke the woman, "are some of our finest, as gifts to you. Please partake of them, and enjoy your days in our gardens. You will find few things more beautiful than the trappings of M'T'Ki."

The Collector could not resist as he quickly pulled a ripe looking green fruit from the top of the basket and plunged it into his mouth. Delectable, he thought to himself. So tasty, so fresh, so juicy. This was one of the finest fruits he had ever tasted, and he began to chomp upon the fruit with zeal. As he shoveled the fruits into his mouth, he noticed the disgusted look upon the face of the Priestess, who seemed to find his actions gluttonous. He didn't care. The fruits were too fine to resist.

Then suddenly, pain began to erupt from his stomach. Something was very wrong. He could feel the sweat bubbling up all over his form. He gagged as the acrid taste of poison filled his mouth, and tears stung his eyes. The fruits were not the delicious treats they had first seemed. Nor were the pacifist priests, which populated the planet.

As Collector wiped the tears from his eyes, he watched in horror as most of the priests made their way towards the spot where the Presence had been hidden. Something was amiss, and the priests had someone discovered who was here, and were making some sort of rescue attempt. Collector, between bouts of viscous vomiting, raised his arm blaster to destroy the priests before they could remove the Star Conqueror from the Presence's face. The Collector was one of the oldest living creatures in all the Universe, and knew that the sickness would indeed pass soon, but a brief distraction was all the priests had probably hoped for.

As Collector aimed his blast, he felt his arm snapped backwards, as strong, leathery vines grasped every appendage of his body.

"You would commit violence against our priests?"

Collector heard their voices in his head, and turned to see a half-dozen members of the plant-like race the Cotatl standing behind him. The ancient pacifists were indeed very powerful creatures, and in his current, weakened state, Collector could do nothing but watch the seen unfold before him.

Collector watched as the Priests of Pama made their way towards the humanized Presence, remove the creature from his face. Collector suddenly was filled with fear as the human form disappeared, and the Presence returned to his rightful form.

"Stop!"

With one simply thought, all of time ceased to exist, and all forms in the universe came to a standstill. With his next thought the Presence sent all of the devils, demons, and other creatures from the lower planes back to Hell, and closed the portals by which they had come. Next he sent all the Angels back to Heaven and closed their portals, then removed the spell from the Earth, which had held it in stasis. Finally he restarted time as normal, and returned to his Heaven where he would have to think about how to fix all the evil that had transpired in his absence.

"Mephisto and Asmodel," said the Presence, standing in front of them, Gabriel and Michael flanking each side, "I just need to know why?"

Asmodel stood rigid, the look of his anger burning brightly in his eyes. "Why? Why? Because we sit here for ages and do nothing? Because you favor these humans more than us? Because I am tired of this ‘life'? Because you are unfit to rule here, and I am all you are and more? Because the time has come for change, and I WILL BE THE HARBINGER!"

The Presence, as well as the Angels beside him, could scarcely believe what they were witnessing. Even Mephisto seem to be taken aback by Asmodel's crazed outburst. Something had snapped in the Bull Host of the Pax Dei. He was no longer the Angel he once was. Some evil disease had festered inside of him.

Mephisto simply shrugged his shoulders and searched for a proper reply. Nothing he could find was appropriate. The truth? He hadn't thought the crazy plan would have gone this far in the first place. He now realized his foolishness. He had done this for little more than to gain the attention of the Father who he had spurned, and in turn had spurned him.

"Well," said the Presence, obviously saddened by the events, "there must be punishment for the damage you two have caused. Because of your action, my Angels are in shambles, and the entire universe almost ceased to be. Heaven will be cut from the mortal plane for quite a while, while we examine why the others were so ready to follow your lead into darkness.

"As for you two, your punishment shall fit your crime. You craved more power. You crave the disruption of human world. Now the two of you will be part of it, and you shall be stripped of all your powers. You shall walk amongst the humans as mortals, needing to eat, sleep, drink, just like they do. You will not age or die, but if you catch a disease you will feel it, if you go without food you will crave it. You will do your penance, stripped of all your powers, until I feel you have found what it is you lack. Compassion. Empathy. Humanity. It is something we have all lost here, and I will now look to regain."

"NO!" screamed Asmodel for an instant, then was gone in a whiff of smoke.

"So it is over now?" asked Naze, as he felt the first rays of sun touch his flesh and warm him.

"For now," replied Dr. Fate coldly, "but so much has changed upon the Earth. The Eternals have fled, and it will be some time before the pain inflicted upon the other pantheon of ‘Gods' allow them to once again roam this plane. The armies of Heaven and the Legions of Hell have lost their leaders, and are now thrown into chaos. Seven new entities of power walk this planet, hidden in mortal forms, waiting for the day when they can remove themselves from their shells. The Presence thinks he has restored the balance, but Lord Chaos still has the advantage, and is simply waiting for the time when he can take control.

"But," said Irene Adler, "we did a good thing today. And when the need arises, there will be us, and others, who will emerge to do so again. Today we were heroes, and every world needs heroes. Not Gods, who have lost touch with humanity, or Angels who never had humanity in the first place. But people, full of hope and caring and compassion and determination."

The three heroes watched the sunrise, just happy that the world was given the opportunity to live another glorious day.