Vladimir stopped him and repeated the words, "Her power?" He looked at Pyotr, "What do you mean by that?"

Pyotr smiled, "You should ask her, not me." Pyotr took a breath and turned back to the task at hand and said, "They're here."

A pair of tanks slowly crept toward them. Two desert-tan tanks, American made, stolen, and armed with fifty-caliber rounds and one-hundred and twenty millimeter missiles. Neither Vladimir nor Pyotr moved; they simply watched closely as the tanks crawled forward.

Vladimir managed to ask a few final queries before their conflict began. "Do you have any idea where Constantine is?"

"Unfortunately I do not."

He frowned and asked, "He isn't using his old name, is he?"

"No, and it seems as though he has managed to learn some new tactics as well."

"What do you mean?"

"His usual patterns have all but vanished," Pyotr told him. "I will often believe I've picked up the trail only to be led to a dead end."

"Then he is still aware of our pursuit," Vladimir murmured.

Pyotr nodded and reminded him, "I doubt he will ever forget about us."

"True."

The tanks arrived and stopped forty feet from the two of them. Vladimir asked whether Pyotr could tell if Cecil was present, which Pyotr managed to confirm.

The hatch of the rear tank opened and a deathly pale man emerged. His hair was white, as was his fine skin, and his eyes were soft and kind. He laughed softly when he saw the familiar duo, "I should have known it was you Vladimir."

"Obviously. Who else but Pyotr and I have hunted you and the rest of our dissenting comrades down over the years?"

Cecil's leisurely gaze fell upon Pyotr. He sighed quietly and dispa.s.sionately muttered, "And you brought the angel with you?"

"Of course."

Cecil looked away from him and continued, "I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you both this, but I have a war to start. Now, if you don't mind standing aside, I need to hurry this along."

"You know we are not going to move Cecil," Pyotr told him.

"That is unfortunate." Cecil looked back at him and asked, slightly unnerved, "Is there any way to kill an angel?" Pyotr never replied. Cecil then looked at the silver blade in Pyotr's hands and asked, "Would that have the power to slay you?"

Pyotr smirked and said it didn't matter. "Whatever I would say to you would be wasted, as you are inches from your demise."

Cecil sneered, "Then maybe it can!"

"Enough!" Pyotr snapped. He swung his blade forward and readied himself for the conflict. "Vladimir, it is time."

Cecil only rolled his eyes and mocked them, "Is there no more room for words?"

"You have had years to reconsider your abominations you cur!"

"So eager to spring into violence, Pyotr." He shook his head and muttered, "You never changed."

Vladimir finally intervened and told Cecil, "Pyotr is right. You have been allotted more time than your crimes deserved. If you wish to concede now this could be much simpler and far less painful..." Vladimir studied Cecil and realized that his words were wasted, "But you have no intention of submitting here."

"No I do not."

"Do you earnestly believe you can overcome this?" Vladimir questioned him.

"Well, even if I am meant to die here in this forsaken wasteland, perhaps I have the strength and luck to drag one of you down with me."

Cecil made a quick motion and the front tank fired a missile where the two young men stood, though Pyotr and Vladimir had long since evaded the attack by the time the missile pa.s.sed where they had been. Pyotr vanished into a ray of light while Vladimir transformed into a ma.s.sive colony of bats.

Pyotr reappeared before the first tank and swiftly cut it in two with a stroke of his divine blade. He then moved the top half of the tank aside with the back of his hand with no effort whatsoever. The opening revealed four men in the vehicle, which Pyotr left for Vladimir to attend to. The colony of bats dispersed and left Vladimir among the wreckage and the four men and without hesitation Vladimir slew each one as he tore their throats out with his hands, nails, and teeth, one by one.

Pyotr headed toward the second tank, which fired off a barrage of fifty-caliber rounds directly at the armored man. Yet the bullets transfigured into dust, smoke, or liquid before any of the rounds could harm him.

"That is quite enough," Pyotr sighed.

He stretched forth a single hand toward the vehicle and it ceased to function. Without touching the tank, Pyotr raised it twenty feet in the air. He concentrated momentarily before the tank tore itself into little more than sc.r.a.p metal. It left four men, including Cecil, immobilized midair among the newly created shrapnel.

Vladimir, having finished with the first group of men, transformed back into the colony of bats and flew to slay the rest of Cecil's support. Pyotr on the other hand moved from where he stood on the ground to Cecil's side in the blink of an eye.

However, before he executed Cecil, he pressed the tip of his blade to his old friend's chest and said, "Many good people have died because of your rebellion, Cecil. You have deterred many honest and pure men and women, you have willingly sided with our great enemy and pledged your allegiance to him, and you have partic.i.p.ated in the slaughter of thousands simply to appease him. You betrayed your kin and your faith, and because of that there is no hope of salvation for you."

Pyotr drove his gleaming weapon through Cecil's chest which produced a searing light all around the victim until it collected at the blade. Pyotr gripped the hilt tightly and tore it out of his foe's chest and let the empty sh.e.l.l of the man fall to the earth, along with his followers and the remains of their shattered tank.

Pyotr slowly descended to the desert floor, touched down, and Vladimir reappeared beside him. Vladimir did his best to remove the blood from his hands while his comrade snapped his fingers and briefly incinerated the remains of the tanks and the corpses they produced. After they finished tidying up after their encounter, Pyotr returned to Vladimir's side, removed the blood with a wave of his hand, and thanked his friend. "All of this makes me quite weary, or should I say disheartened; as such I thank you for your aid here."

Vladimir only nodded. "I am always willing to help, though you hardly needed my additional strength here."

Pyotr disagreed, "These events tire me Vladimir. But so long as you a.s.sist me I can rest easily knowing that there is still another who hasn't fallen away as the rest of our comrades have."

"Considering the fact that you alone have slain over half of our fallen friends..." he let out a breath and apologized, "I should have at least dealt with one of them."

Pyotr smiled and said it didn't matter. He stopped and said, "You do realize this only leaves Cipriana, Raphael, Joshua, and Constantine, right?"

Vladimir nodded. "I do, and I eagerly await the day when all of this is finally over."

"As do I."

They walked a short distance while Vladimir stopped the rain and cleared the clouds.

"Vladimir," Pyotr looked at him seriously, "Talk to Rachel again. She is far more valuable than you realize."

Vladimir accepted his request. "I gather this is a farewell for now?"

Pyotr nodded and said it was. "I will let you know as soon as I do of any change in our pursuit of those four, and especially if there is anything more that I learn of Constantine."

"I look forward to it."

Vladimir left first in a colony of bats. Pyotr lingered behind for a moment and inspected the ashen remains of Cecil. He touched the ash and muttered, "You should have realized a long time ago that this was the only possible outcome."

A thin ray of light enveloped Pyotr before he vanished.

Chapter 18.

September 14th, 2029 2:35 PM.

London, England Jason led Audrey by the hand into a wide open field of tall gra.s.s. He remembered it was once a well-trimmed turf between two buildings at the university they attended years earlier. There wasn't a soul in sight and all he could hear was her gleeful laughter. The long emerald blades swayed at their movement and the caress of the wind, which continued to blow Audrey's hair back into her face. She repeatedly swept her hair from her face, with a smile all the while, and Jason chuckled at how useless it seemed. They finally stopped at the center of the field where Jason pointed to the sky and spoke inaudible words. He took a step back, looked up toward the pure blue heavens, bent his knees slightly, and rocketed into the sky.

"Jason?"

He opened his eyes and took a quick breath. What time is it?

"Are you okay?"

He looked up from his desk and saw his manager Neil. d.a.m.n it. Of all times for me to slack off. Jason apologized and asked what he needed.

"I just wanted to know if you had the expense report for the past month," Neil said. "There'll be a meeting Tuesday and I should hope that you're familiar with the material."

Jason said he would be and that Neil didn't needed to worry about it. He waited for Neil to walk away before Jason let out a sigh and headed for their break room for something to drink.

That's the third time I've fallen asleep at work and luckily the only time I've been caught. I'm usually fortunate if I can get any sleep during the night but falling asleep at my desk? I've never had that happen to me before. Maybe my insomnia is finally getting better.

Jason made it to the break room and breathed a sigh of relief when he found it vacant. I've only been back for a short while and I just feel weighed down. It must be the stress. It has to be. Why else would I have those dreams? It's bound to be related to all of the hullabaloo about these super heroes. He stood in the empty room and contemplated just what it could mean before someone walked in. Jason walked over to the vending machine, purchased a soda, and walked back to his office.

What are the chances that it would work though? Flight? No one can fly. I asked Abigail and there isn't a single hero amongst their n.o.ble ranks who can fly so why would I even think there's a remote possibility that I can fly? Should I at least try though? I mean, at the very least I'd look like a complete idiot for a minute, feel like one too, and I'd return to my daily life as if none of it ever happened. Jason sat at his desk and tapped the side of the can of soda twice before he left his desk and headed for the roof. What would it hurt? I jump, nothing happens, and I go back to work. That's it...But if it works? Then what? Where would I go? What would I do? Just take a quick lap around Big Ben? What rubbish...But still, I may as well, to put this to rest.

Jason climbed to the roof and was relieved to discover he was alone. Good, no one to mock me once I look like an a.s.s. He walked around until he made it to the center of the roof and gazed about the city and saw how London looked from that height. He could see the Houses of Parliament and the River Thames from where he stood. The air was thick and moist, and gray clouds shut out the sun.

Get on with it you idiot. Jason took one final look around to ensure no one would notice his folly before he crouched down and readied himself for his big jump. His muscles tightened, he took in a deep breath, and stood up. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. This is stupid. People can't fly. If they could there would have been others or at least one other.

"I must be daft to believe this," Jason muttered to himself as he crouched down again, "Just going to land flat on my rear and feel like an a.s.s." He shook his head, closed his eyes and jumped.

Nothing? Did I even jump? What a twit, I'm making this into too big of an event.

Jason opened his eyes and saw London far below him. Holy h.e.l.l. He couldn't even discern which building was his from where he was. What on earth? This, this can't be real. I must still be dreaming. Jason looked around at the vast open s.p.a.ce that surrounded him and at London far below him. He could see past the city's end and out toward the water and outlying areas. Clouds hung overhead just barely out of reach. Traces of sunlight pierced through the gray wispy ocean above him as well.

But a thought struck him while he floated among the heavens. How am I supposed to land? Where do I land? I can't even tell which building I leapt from, and won't someone in another building see me? Can't they see me now? This was a mistake, what am I going to do? It started to rain and then Jason suddenly felt out of control and fell from the sky.

He tried to regain control but wasn't sure how to fly. Now what the h.e.l.l am I supposed to do? I doubt I can just land considering the fact that I can't even control myself. He tried as best he could to veer right and found he could manage enough control to change course midair. There, at the very least I've managed to start learning the basics before I crash headfirst into the city. But where do I go from here? I can't try to land on top of my building, I mean, that would kill me, or even people in the building if I somehow crashed through the roof. Is that even possible?

He zipped past his building and simply hoped no one noticed the man plummeting to his death. That makes things a bit easier, but where do I go from here?

Wait a minute! The river! All I have to do is weave through the next few buildings and dive right into Jason didn't take his speed into consideration and crashed into a dumpster in some back alley a few blocks away from his building. He remained still for a moment before he groaned slightly and crawled out of the twisted remains.

I guess this means I'm far more durable than I realized since I'm not a puddle on the road.

He took a moment to collect himself before he crawled out of the mangled steel mess he'd created. I'm fine. I'm fine. Thank goodness for that at least. Now what do I do? Fly out again or walk? And this smell...I'll need to dispose of these clothes in favor of something cleaner. Some garments that don't reek and aren't drenched in whatever blackened soup collected at the base of that receptacle.

"H-Help me! Please!"

"Would you shut up?"

Jason turned and found a rather large man with a pistol in his right hand and a young woman pinned against a brick wall with his left arm. He choked her and cussed at her for making a sound.

What? Really? Here and now of all places? Jason felt a sharp pain in his head (something he a.s.sumed he'd sustained from the impact in his landing) and he shakily asked the man to release the young woman.

The bloke took aim at Jason and told him to get lost. "This doesn't concern you mate, so just get up offa the ground and get right outta here."

Alright, a gun. It's only a small sc.r.a.p of metal moving past the speed of sound; nothing to worry about, right? I mean, I did just fall out of the sky and crashed into the side of a steel container, so a bullet shouldn't be much of a threat...right? Jason balled his hands into fists and started toward the man. What choice do I have?

The man took a shot at Jason but the bullet only crumpled against his chest and fell into the gap between his chest and his shirt. However everything slowed after the first shot. Jason watched the gunman slowly pull the trigger a second time. He saw the hammer collide with the back of the round and he watched the bullet slowly blast out of the barrel toward him.

This is new...Jason rushed past the sc.r.a.p of metal, tore the man away from the young woman, and threw him into the wall opposite of where the attacker previously held the girl hostage. Jason seized the gun from the man, crushed the weapon into an indistinguishable clump of steel, and took the man by his throat.

Jason slammed him into the wall and realized he didn't have a next step. What do I do with someone like this? I can't tie him up and leave him for the authorities to pick up. This isn't a comic book. Jason cleared his throat and tried to sound convincing when he told them man to get lost. He told the man he'd crush his hand like the firearm if he ever caught him again, but felt his threat was empty and simply released the crook and allowed him to scurry out of the alleyway.

That isn't exactly the optimal way to handle all of this, but I'm not exactly in the mood or attire to play savior. Jason looked at the young woman as she caught her breath and looked at him with astonishment.

The young lady stood nearly a head shorter than he was, had strawberry-blonde hair, and a fine complexion. She wore navy jeans, a light gray hoodie with a black zip-up fleece over it, and neatly tied sneakers.

"Are you alright?"

She only nodded and continued to stare at him. "Who are you?" she whispered.

Jason wasn't sure what to tell her. I fell out of the sky and stopped a mugger? Who the h.e.l.l am I supposed to be? Should I come up with a name or tell her my own? He hesitantly told her his name was Ilion.

"Then...then you're a hero?" she asked.

He reluctantly agreed with the term. I guess this indoctrinates it, right? I can't imagine what else it would make me. "I'm still working on the outfit," he admitted, "But yes, I would say that's who I am."

She thanked him again. "I-I won't breathe a word about this to anyone. I promise."

Jason let out a breath and thanked her. Now what do I do? Turn around and try to fly out of here? Should I help her get home? Or take her to the police? He looked at her and asked, "Do you need any help getting home?"

She shook her head and told him she needed to go to work. "I-I've got a shift in a few minutes and"

"You might want to consider taking the afternoon off so you can rest," Jason told her. "This must be rather jarring."