The Revenge of The Black Sword
Chapter the First in the multi-temporal saga "In Darkness Cometh"
by Amy K. Cyrway (Eddie of Clan Winslow, Black Blade)

***LEGAL JARGON: I love that word.  Jargon.  Heh-heh.  Anyway, Gargoyles are a copyright
of Disney and Buena Vista.  No infringement is intended.  In fact, I worship those who created the
almighty Gargoyles, and condemn those who brought its television demise.  Luach, Kat, Tom,
Zanth‚, the Black Sword, Caligo, Nate Lovecraft, Artemis, Zo‰ Sommers, and any other
characters I use that you don't recognise are probably mine.  Shrug.

Xtra Thanx to all my buddies in Internet Land, especially the Station 8 chatroom! *I really don't
want to go into lists! * But mucho gracias are in order to the one and only Mercedes and
Sombrero, who encouraged me to post my fanfic, and to Blitz, my alien bud, who edits my fic on
campus. Cheers to all of you, blokes!

NOTE: The Almighty Black Blade screwed up again.  When I named the saga, I neglected to
recall my amigo from the Maritimes's first fanfic was called something very similar to my original
title.  Since he had it first, I decided I should be the one to change my title.  Much apologies to
Dylan!  Keep Fic'ing, Bro!***

CALIGO: Previously, on Gargoyles . . . 

(Show the battle between Brooklyn and the Warlord from "Gliding on the Winds of Time Part
Five")

(Show Luach bolting from Macbeth Manor, "Desolation of the Soul")

DEMONA: You and your lineage . . . I've never seen a gargoyle devoted so much on his
genealogy.
CALIGO: I like to keep track of what family I have.  ("Wait for Darkness")

***
CHRONOS: 21ST CENTURY EARTH, NEW YORK CITY
KIROS: THE EPOCH OF LUACH
***
Eyrie Pyramid
Manhattan

     Tom sat on the lower parapet, staring out to sea.
     In his hand was a half-eaten candy bar, although he showed no interest in finishing it.
     He was worried for his little bro.
     Discarding the chocolate, he stood, his deep brown hair whipping around his face.
     He was told once that he resembled his grandfather at times. This was one of those times, as
concern lined his normally pleasantly plump face.
     "Luc, where the hell are you?" he whispered.

***
Long Island

     The ancient book clasped with one taloned hand, the tan gargoyle ran as if the hounds of hell
were on his tail.
     And, in a way, they were.
     No where to get any true height, Luc struggled to keep the distance between him and the
renegade Shock Troopers.
     He swore as he stumbled and fell, his knee jarring on a rough patch of pavement.
     Though he refused to let go of the album that could tell him about his past.
     Leaping back to his feet, he felt sharp pain as he put pressure on his foot.  Another curse, as he
limped as fast as he could to escape.
     But as the dark hand of the lead Trooper clasped around his throat, he knew there was no other
choice.
     "Release me!" he snarled, his eyes blazing silver.
     The creature did.
     "Now, die, unholy creature!" He growled, grabbing hold of the clone's wrist.
     The Shock Trooper became limp as it crumbled at Luc's feet.
     The others stared at the dead clone, then at the small gargoyle.
     He held out his hand, glowing with a silver hue.
     "Leave," he hissed, "or face the fate of your comrade."
     They ran.
     Luc chuckled, and his mage lust died as his eyes returned to normal.
     "Dammit," he whispered, limping toward the Brooklyn Bridge.

***
The Bronx

     "Car 54, where are you?"
     Nate groaned, flipping the radio switch.
     "How many times have I told you, Miranda," he sighed, "not to do that?"
     "We've got a 502 heading south to Manhattan . . . thought you'd be interested . . . "
     His reptilian features perked up as he turned the ignition of his modified 1967 Pontiac GTO.
     "It's about fucking time!" He hooted.  "What's the stats?"
     "2076 Lamborghini Diablo, red, hover capabilities.  License number 46 Alpha-Charlie-Bravo
7."
     "I'm onto it.  Artemis!"
     The Goat's dash suddenly came to life, different lights flaring up.
     "We've got a 502!"
     "Yeehah!" The digital female cried, her engine roaring.
     Nate grabbed the wheel and depressed the clutch, throwing the black muscle car into first. 
Expertly, he shifted to second, third, then overdrive.
     Upon spotting the sports car heading onto the Washington Memorial Bridge, he shouted,
"Artemis, activate lights and siren!"
     "We're gonna have fun tonight!" Artemis chortled, turning on the flashers and siren.
     Flipping the radio back on, he retorted, "Car 54 in pursuit of perpetrator . . . following into
Manhattan."
     "Do you require backup, Nate?"
     "Got all the backup I need, Randa," he smirked.

***
Manhattan

     "Any sign of him?" The copper female questioned, placing a hand on Tom's shoulder.  The
lavender gargoyle shook his head.
     "No trace whatsoever, Kat," Tom added.  "What do you say we go look for him?"
     "Luc could be anywhere," Kat mumbled, staring out onto the East River.  "Knowing him, he's
probably out at Long Island, poking around."
     "That's kind of dangerous," Tom whispered.  "I mean, he's never really had any formal fighting
training like we did."
     "We should go look for him.  I'll go tell Uncle Lex we're going to go search for him--"
     "Kathryn!  Tom!" The metallic-tinted voice of the last original Manhattan clansman called out
from inside the castle.
     Kat gave her companion a wayward look and ventured into the castle.
     She almost ran into the small cyborg.
     Standing almost as tall as her, Lexington was still small for a gargoyle, yet made up with it
easily with his incredibly sharp mind and cybernetic upgrades.
     "Either of you three bored--where's Luc?" He asked.
     "Out," Tom shrugged.  "Told me he needed to think."
     "Well, I picked up on the scanner a 502 heading down here.  According to stats, the perpetrator
is driving a red Lamborghini, a couple years old, and the cop tailing him--" Lexington could not
hide the snicker "--is driving a 1967 Pontiac GTO.  Who wants to join me on a little old-fashion
patrol?"
     "Luc might be out on Long Island, Uncle," Kat stated.  "I was just going to see if he was . . . "
     "I'll go with you," Tom nodded to Lex.  
     "We'll meet back here in two hours, then," the cyborg gargoyle nodded, running out to the
courtyard with the two younger ones following him.  Leaping from the parapets, the two males
headed north over newly-repaired Fifth Avenue, and Kat heading southeast in the direction of
Long Island.

***
Fifth Avenue, southbound

     Knuckles white as he felt the characteristic rumble of Artemis' engine, Nate kept his sights on
the Diablo in front of him.  
     "If this dude's drunk," he snarled, "he's doing a damn good job on keeping that boat on the
road."
     "He might have it on autopilot," another digital female voice suggested from the passenger seat. 
A shimmer in the air, and a hologram of a comely woman wearing black appeared next to him. 
Her mostly-blond hair with a single wide streak of jet black pulled away from her face into a tight
bun, she glanced at the reptilian man.
     "You think, Zo‰?" Nate muttered.  "Can you plot a course?"
     "Um . . . "the woman appeared to be typing something, "Hacking into the car's computer
system . . . he's disabled the lockout controls, the clever bastard, but did not even think about
routing capabilities . . . " She looked up.  "Bingo.  He's got a route straight to Long Island, Nate." 
She paused.  "Would you like me to get a chopper there to help you, knowing your past there?"
     "Zo‰!  I'm a big boy!" He snarled.  "There's no way in hell I'm going to let my past get in the
way of my job!"
     "But--"
     "But nothing!  Sevarius is dead, d'Medici is dead, it doesn't matter now."  His eyes darkened. 
"And my past is dead.  No more discussion about that."
     "Fine," the holographic woman remarked, holding her hands up in defeat.
     "I can handle it," he retorted, his eyes remaining on the red brake lights of the car in front of
him.
     "Yo, Nate!" Artemis beckoned.  "I'm picking up two aerials, coming toward us."
     "You know if they're friendly?"
     "They're gargoyles."
     Nate was almost stricken with disbelief so much, he almost missed the asshole in front of him
turn onto a side street leading to the Manhattan bridge.
     "Are you positive?"
     "And one of them's Lexington, of the Resistance!"
     "I would have thought they would have gone somewhere else besides this hell-hole of a city,"
Zo‰ mumbled.
     "Zo‰, patch a communication between him," Nate commanded.  "Is he doing what I'm
thinking he might be doing . . . ?"
     "Working . . . " Zo‰ started typing on her invisible keyboard.  "Got it.  This is NYPD, 19th
Bronx.  Please state your order of business."
     There was a slight buzz of the connection, and a tinny voice retorted, "Gargoyles protect," and
snapped off.
     Zo‰ feverishly tapped again, reestablishing the connection.
     "Gargoyle, if you wish to aide us, please make sure the civilian population is safe."
     "Already onto that," the voice crackled.
     "Talk about no-nonsense," the hologram mumbled.
     "This is just too unbelievable," Artemis whispered, "A living legend.  It couldn't get any better
than if Brooklyn himself was still--"
     "Artemis, quiet!" Nate snapped.  "Why did I get a female program?"
     "So she can share sexual fantasies with you," Zo‰ muttered, completely deadpan but cracking a
smile.  "I'm logging off for now, Nate.  See you back at HQ."
     "Later, Zo‰," he nodded as the hologram dispersed.
     Finally, he snorted to himself.  He didn't know how long he could stand have two female
partners, even if one of them wasn't even biological.
     As he chased the fleeting Diablo across the Manhattan Bridge, his mind suddenly went into
overdrive.
     D'Medici fucked up my mind, he thought sourly.  Sevarius fucked up my body.  Long Island
was once my home.  I used to live in Brooklyn Heights, in an upper-middle class neighbourhood. 
Then the war began, and I was taken because of my slight telekinetic gift.
     PsyberTech was then a medical laboratory facility for mental disorders and cures for them. 
What the public didn't know was the other experiments done on their lab "rats"--the missing
children.
     Nate Lovecraft, from Brooklyn Heights.
     Tristan L‚ Fey, a homeless boy from the Labyrinth, a shelter in Manhattan.
     Tanya Sawyer, from Queens.
     And Damien d'Medici's own son, Eric.
     The only four to survive the mental mutations.
     And then PsyberTech merged with Gen-U-Tech.
     And Sevarius ravaged their DNA, attempting to create perfect group troops to his quaint little
Clone War.
     "No more living in the past!" He snarled to himself.
     And that's when he saw the boy.
     He hit the brake suddenly, ignoring Artemis' cries of protest. 
     He heard a boom as the gargoyle above him kicked on the rockets.
     Cursing, Nate flung open the driver's side door (with another insult from the car) and stormed
up to the boy in the army jacket, his head down under his arms, sitting against the lamp post.
     "Don't tell me humans still live here," he demanded.
     The boy looked up, revealing that he was in fact not human but a young gargoyle, roughly
forty years old.
     "Fuck!" Nate backed up, for the first thing on his mind was clone.
     "I'm not a clone," the young man hissed hoarsely, as if reading Nate's mind.  "My name is Luc,
and I think my ankle's broken."
     Nate heard a crash.
     "Artemis, alert me of any hostile activity," he ordered.  "Luc, stay put."  Pulling out his
Derringer nine-millimetre, he sprinted toward the disruption.
     He saw the Diablo's hood smashed in, the engine block ripped out and tossed fifteen feet from
the chassis, and a small gargoyle cyborg pinning a human to the pavement.
     Artemis was right.  It was Lexington!
     The gargoyle nodded to him, picked the man up, and padded up to the cop.
     "Nice job," Nate whistled as he lowered his piece.
     Lex shrugged, nodding to the unconscious man.
     "You're going to read him his rights?"
     The question had a rhetoric tone to it.
     "Did he faint?" Nate asked.
     "Passed out is more like it."
     Nate felt for a pulse in the man's neck.  It was faint, though his skin felt clammy and cold.
     "From what?"
     "Have a look in the car, Officer.  I saw a rather large cache of cocaine and heroin in the
passenger seat."
     "First off, I'm Detective Nate Lovecraft, third class.  Second, thanks for your help," Nate stuck
out his hand.
     Lex shook it with his organic limb.
     "It gets so quiet nowadays," Lex whispered and looked straight at the reptilian face.  "You're a
Sevarius mutate . . . "
     Nate nodded, pulling out a radio.
     "Lovecraft to base."
     "Miranda here."
     "Perpetrator apprehended in Brooklyn.  Possible OD, has about--" Nate glanced in the car,
whistled, and continued "--roughly ten kilos of coke and heroin in his car.  Request cleanup team
and an med chopper, pronto."
     "Ten-four.  Base over and out."
     Changing the subject, Lex asked, "I've got to commend you on your driving skills.  What did
you do to modify your car?"
     "She's an Artemis unit inside a 1967 Pontiac steel chassis.  Top of the line, even though a little
independent thinking.  No wonder they took them of the market."

     He could hear Nate's and Uncle Lex's voices in the otherwise dead silence of the night. 
He wanted to call out, "Hello, I'm in pain here," but remained quiet.  Nate was probably under the
common misconception gargoyles did not feel pain.
     "So," he muttered, pulling out the album and opening it.  "My past lays within these pages . . .
poetic . . . "
     The pain he had forgotten as he stared at a picture of his mother and father together when they
were his age.  They were so happy back then.
     He carefully took the ancient Polaroid out of the page and squinted to read the back.  "Brook
and Arin, Labour Day, 1997".
     The times before the war. 
     He replaced the picture and turned to the back, where there were countless sheets of paper
bound.  He read the first page.
     "'Chronicles of Caligo'," he whispered aloud.  Caligo?  Darkness?  He was a little confused as
he read on.
     
     As our kind dwindles, I find it more and more important that I chronicle my history for my
descendants.  I realise my life, however immortal, I am not totally invulnerable, so that I must hold
that the Family of Caligo will go on, at least in memory.
          --Caligo

     "I'm picking up hostiles, Nate!" The GTO shouted, startling Luc.
     "Shit!" Nate readied his gun as he and Lex bolted toward the car.  Lexington noticed the tan
gargoyle under the lamp post and shot to his aide.
     "Can you walk?" he demanded.
     Luc shook his head.
     "I tried, Uncle Lex, but it's too painful," he whispered, closing the album and putting it back
into his jacket.
     "Find Kat.  She went looking for you," Lex ordered, standing up straight and readying his
shoulder mounted light artillery.
     Luc nodded, and closed his eyes.
     (kathryn . . . ) he mentally beckoned.  With his one-sided telepathy, a little ability he learned at
an early age, he could pick up his sister anywhere.  He couldn't hear her thoughts, but she could
hear his when he wanted her to, and he could feel her emotions through that bond. (sis . . . uncle
lex found me.)
     A sense of relief filtered in.
     (we're about three miles northeast of macbeth manor . . . and by the way uncle lex and this cop
are acting, we may have company . . . )
     A surge of anger, an affirmation.
     Then a faint sense of love, as the connection faded.
     Luc pushed himself up the lamp post, standing on his good leg.
     There were all kinds of activity, all right.  
     Battered clones and mutates crawled out of the shadows, advancing the group.
     Old war-issued lasers suddenly kicked on-line and began discharging randomly.
     Nate fired at the nearest mutate, emptying the magazine quickly.  Rolling over Artemis' hood,
he shouted, "Artemis, activate vertigo!"
     Her headlights flipped on, illuminating the zombie-like creatures.  Then, the halogen lamps
began pulsing erratically, in a strobe fashion.  The mutates and clones faltered backward, though
the Shock Troopers continued to fire, the laser blasts ricocheting off the GTO's body, much to the
sentient car's protests.
     The cyborg gargoyle leapt with the aide of his jets to about fifty feet and let loose a burst of
rapid fire, felling the first wave.
     Suddenly, both shoulder mounts clicked a few times.
     "Dammit!" Lexington dove, landing behind Nate.  "I've got a jam!"
     "I'll hold them off!" Nate reloaded another magazine and cocked the pistol.  Firing randomly,
dodging blasts, he ordered, "Artemis, pop the trunk!"
     "And get my paint job nicked?" She whined, doing so.
     The cop reached into the deep truck and pulled out a shotgun Lexington recognised to be the
same Remington model Eddie used, long ago.  He snapped open the chamber, held it under his
arm as he loaded it with buckshot.
     "Artemis, reach base and tell her we've been overrun by about fifty Shockers!"
     "Base reports to leave ASAP, Nate!" Artemis retorted.  "Perpetrator expendable!"
     "Shit!" Nate snarled, snapping the barrel upward.  When the magazine emptied again, he
brought up his left hand wielding the shotgun and fired as he released the empty and slammed a
fresh one into the Derringer.  "How's those mounts of yours coming, Lex?"
     Lexington had, disturbing to look at, disengaged his left arm and shoulder and held it in his lap,
his right hand expertly removing the jammed bits of armor-piercing Teflon from the shoulder
compartments.  His right mount would have to remain jammed, for now.  With a click, the little
cyborg grinned as he reattached his arm back to his body and leapt up again, firing only his left
artillery cannon.
     Luc, still out in the open, glanced over to the horde.  They had not noticed him yet.  Good
thing.  He was still weak from the combination of  his ankle and his last sorcered attempt.  Just
keep shooting, you two, he thought, keep them occupied.  Noting that Artemis' driver's side door
was still open, he got down slowly and crawled to the black car.
     "Are you okay?" the car's female voice whispered.
     "I'll be fine once sunrise comes," Luc hissed, cringing as a laser blast hit the windshield and
dispersed along the glass as he threw his wounded leg over the shifter and into the passenger seat. 
Feeling down the length of it, he grimaced as he touched the broken part.  It wasn't his ankle,
thank god; that would have left him in a limp if he went to sunrise without treatment.  Instead, it
was just above it by about three inches along the fibula, the smaller bone in the lower leg. 
Clenching his teeth, he pulled it down and out; he screeched as antagonising pain shot up his leg
and back.
     "Bandages . . . " he hissed,  " . . . something to splint it . . . "
     "Glove compartment," Artemis mumbled, popping it open.
     Luc, keeping a hand on his leg, rummaged his free hand in it, pulling out a first aid kit. 
Flipping open the lid, he took the bandage roll and a folding titanium splint rod from it and
continued working on the fracture, swearing in pain as he went.
     Finally, it was set and bandaged tight.
     He relaxed somewhat and grabbed the analgesic pills on an afterthought.  Popping them dry, he
leaned back, waiting for the painkiller to kick in.

     Nate reloaded his shotgun again.
     "Cover me," he hissed to Lex as he dove around Artemis, using her front door as a shield.
     Still firing, he asked, "You going to be okay, kemosabe?"
     "If we don't get killed, I will," Luc chuckled morbidly.
     "Move over," Nate tapped his shoulder.  To Lexington, he shouted, "I'll take the kid to the ER. 
Bail while you can!"
     "Eyrie Pyramid!" Lexington ordered back as he rose off the ground.  "Kat!  Tom!  Fall back!" 
he turned his attention to the two gargoyles joining them from the north. 
     "Where's Luc?" The brick red female demanded, readying her laser rifle.  The normal clones
were no big deal; the Shockers and mutates, however, were.
     "He's safe!  We've gotta get out of here before the entire population comes out of hiding!"
     "Halt."
     A new voice, strong, feminine, and accented, had joined the conversation.
     All crossfire ceased, though Lexington's eyes flared white in recognition.
     "I thought you were dead, Zanth‚," he whispered as a new gargoyle landed next to him.  She
mantled her white wings and surveyed the melee area, hands on her hips.
     "I have a way of escaping those predicaments," she answered casually.  "What brings you to
Devil's Island, Lexington?"
     "Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing."
     "Listen, Lex, who-ever-you-are," Nate kept his gun at the ready, standing behind Artemis'
door. "I don't know about you, but all these Shockers are giving me the creeps.  We have an
injured kid, and he isn't getting any better just sitting here."
     "I'm getting better," Luc muttered from within the car with a fake British accent.
     The albino gargoyle, Zanth‚, heard the young man's remark and walked almost provocatively
around the car to the passenger side door.  The clones surrounding them did not seem to bother
her.
     Touching the metal door, she simply whispered, "Open."
     In spite of Artemis locking it, it swung open easily.
     Luc stared up at the other gargoyle, his gaze suddenly wandering to her shoulder, the tattoo of
a black sword on it.
     Zanth‚ stared at him, somewhat out of character, with a quizzical look to her crimson eyes.
     "Why haven't you healed it, boy?" she demanded.
     "I don't understand . . . " he shook his head, trying to disappear further into the seat.
     "You have the ability . . . the Willed Word . . . yet you did not use it on yourself.  Why?"
     "I still don't understand . . . "
     "Lexington," Zanth‚ paced back to the cyborg.  "Why did you not tell me of the boy before?"
     "I would not want the guilt to having you screw any more innocents into the Black Sword, like
you did me," he retorted with total vehemence.  "Especially any of my clan."
     "This is all the clan you have left--"
     "Lexington, couldn't you two discuss this somewhere else?" Nate demanded.  "These dudes are
giving me the creeps!"
     Zanth‚ snorted, turning to the horde.
     "Considering I'm feeling nice tonight, rather than have you willed dead, I'm going to ask you to-
-" she waved her hand "--leave."
     On cue, the clones and mutates turned on their heels and left.
     "Now then, that wasn't so hard," she smiled, and looked at Nate.  "Any better?"
     "Uh . . . yeah . . . " Nate relaxed his arm, but did not sheathe the gun.
     "Who are you?" Tom demanded, landing next to the car.  Kat did the same, running over to
Luc's side.
     "Your Uncle Lexington knows me quite well, children," she flashed a wolfish smile. 
     "Zanth‚!" Lexington growled, pouncing toward the albino gargoyle.
     "Halt," she whispered, freezing the cyborg into place.  "How unlike you to take the initiative. 
Does your hatred for me run so deep as for you to attack me?"
     "Athena should have killed you when she had a chance," Lexington snarled.
     "Athena does not have the power to kill me," Zanth‚ muttered.  "Release."
     Lexington regained his motor skills as soon as she uttered the word.
     "We will continue this conversation some other time, old friend," she stated bluntly, turning on
her foot and walking toward the south.  "In the meantime, I would recommend treating that ankle,
boy."
     Luc cringed at her voice.  Something resonated with her words, like his did when he used his
power, though it seemed . . . tainted.
     Nate finally sheathed his sidearm.
     "Let's get out of here before any more weirdos come out of the woodwork," he suggested. 
"Eyrie Building, eh?"
     Lexington nodded.
     "Want a lift?"
     The cyborg shook his head and, firing up his jets, took off.
     Turning to the two other gargoyles, he asked them the same question.
     The red female was already in the back, her built form leaning over the passenger seat, tending
to the kid in front.
     "Yeah, sure," The bulky lavender shrugged.  "Be quicker than gliding, I suppose."

***
Eyrie Pyramid

     "...fractured fibula, clean break.  Good job setting the break, little bro," Kat examined the x-
ray.  Luc snorted as he leapt off the gurney in the infirmary.
     "Learned from the best," he remarked.
     "I just wish they had the entire medical course at Columbia at night," she sighed.  "I miss out on
all the labs."
     "I've never seen a gargoyle so interested in medicine," Nate shook his head.  He refused to
leave until Luc was in the green.
     "During the Clone Wars I helped out with the wounded," the red female retorted.  "I found an
interest with it.  But what really spurred my wishes to become a doctor was on the last day of the
war, when my father came back.  He could have lived if we had a trained doctor on the premises. 
Unfortunately, we didn't, and he died . . . " Kat sniffed back some tears.  "I vowed never to let that
happen to any of my loved ones again."  Absently, she ruffled Luc's hair.  "Luc's all I got left.  At
least from my immediate family.  Then there's Uncle Lex and Tom, and the egg in the rookery . . .
" She shrugged somewhat.
  "Your egg . . . ?"
  Kat nodded.  "Tom and I tried to be lovers.  It didn't work out that well."
  "I see . . . " Nate nodded somewhat, detecting a "don't go there" tone to her voice.
  "It's all in the past, though."
  "Why didn't you leave New York with the other clans?"
  "Manhattan's our home," Luc interjected, leaning against the wall.  "More specifically, this
castle has been our clan's home for over a thousand years.  We can't just up and leave it."  There
was some . . . sarcasms . . . in that last statement.  As if on cue, he grabbed his jacket and the book
wrapped within and exited with a limp.
  "I'm beginning to worry about him," Kat whispered.
  "Why?" The reptilian questioned innocently.
  "He's too wrapped up in finding out about our family," she muttered.  "I'm afraid he'll
find something out that he wouldn't like--why am I telling this to you?  I barely even know you!" 
She laughed shortly, running a hand through her thick mane of white hair.
  "Because I'm also a victim of the War," he muttered, taking her hand.  "At least you and
your clan were able to rebel.  We were not as lucky."
  Kat glanced at him sideways.
  "You're a Sevarius Mutate," she whispered in realisation.
  The man nodded.
  "Three others and I were taken in by a subsidiary of Gen-U-Tech just before the start of
the war when we were children.  They screwed around with our heads, then handed us over to
Sevarius' hands, and we were . . . altered . . . then controlled . . . " Nate closed his odd eyes and
sighed.  "As much as I wanted to escape, I couldn't.  My mind wasn't my own, until . . . well, I
guess I owe a lot more to Brooklyn than I've realised before."
  "Brooklyn was my father."
  "I figured such.  You look a little like him," he retorted.  "That was one thing I could never
forget: his eyes.  You have his eyes."
  "'Gomez, get those out of his mouth!'" Luc called out from the hallway.
  "Freak!" Kat snarled.
  "Love you too, sis!"
  She laughed somewhat, then turned back to Nate.  "I was only thirty when he died.  Luc
just hatched that day.  At least Dad got to see him before . . . " she choked somewhat.   "I'm sorry. 
I guess we both have terrible memories of the war.  I'm sorry I snapped."
  "I understand, Kat," Nate whispered.
  The both stood in silence at the infirmary, unsure of what to say to break the uneasy
silence.

***
Library

  Luc sank into the dusty armchair in the far corner of the ancient library, his eyes locked on
the old album in his hand.  
  Finally, he could get some peace to read it.
  Pulling his legs underneath him (wincing at his broken ankle), he opened the cover of the
book, skimming the pages of photos and notes, getting back to the added pages of parchment.

***
Long Island

  Zanth‚ laughed heartfully as she dove around downward to avoid the small cyborg's lunge.
  "You're not getting anywhere fighting with me!" she called out, picking up an air current,
gaining five-hundred feet in altitude.  "Why don't we talk civilly, instead of this?"
  "Why do you dare show your face around here all of a sudden?  You disappeared after the
war."
  "Indeed I did." Pulling her wings closer to her body, plummeting down, spreading them
just before landing.       Lexington cut his engines and set down in front of the albino gargoyle. 
"But when word came to us the fact that Luach possesses the Willed Word--"
  "How would you know that?"
  The albino female smiled secretly.
  "I termed it loosely.  I know that only offspring of angels and demons possess the power,
and Luach is one of these children.  Wind."  As she said the final word, a heavy gust of wind
picked her up and carried her away.
  "What the hell are you talking about?" He yelled, firing up his thrusters to follow her.
  "Let's just say that he's more my nephew than your's!"
  This obviously touched a nerve as the little cyborg flew higher, tackling Zanth‚ on his dive
down.  They both plummeted, crashing into the pavement below.
  There was a click, and Zanth‚ swore as she found herself staring down Lex's arm mounted
laser.
  "Talk," he snarled, his eyes flaring white-hot.
  "Do you remember Caligo?" She smiled, though her voice remained cruel.  He did not
answer, so she continued.  "He was a member of your clan.  A large, grey gargoyle with a beak,
always stuck to the shadows.  Last I heard, he was reportably killed during a hunting trip."
  Lexington, though his expression remained stoic, his eyes widened in realisation.
  "You would have been, what, twenty?  Not even? You were very young, nethertheless.  Of
course, he didn't have a name, or at least you didn't think he had a name . . . "
  "Get to the point, Zanth‚!"
  "The father of your beloved rookery brother and leader, sadly deceased, yes.  That's
Caligo.  You recall him.  I see it in your eyes."
  "I said, get to the point!" He pushed the laser up to her temple.
  "You know, I'm only humouring you, dear Lexington.  You see, Caligo is my twin.  My
brother."
  Lexington dropped his arm in shock.
  "That's impossible," he whispered.
  "Is it?" She stood, picking the smaller gargoyle up to his feet almost with respect.  "I've
come back to bring you and the boy a message.  Caligo has returned, and if you value Luach's life,
do not let him near his grandfather.  You will lose him.  Do not even let him know about him.  It is
safest that way.  Already, he has entered the boy's mind.  Don't let him get any deeper."
  Lexington allowed the words to sink in.  His hatred for the Matriarch ran deep, yes, but she
had helped in the past.  Something inside him told him she was stating the truth.
  "I want to know what you meant earlier," he then demanded, a little less hostile.
  "About the children of demons and angels?  Do you know the myth about gargoyles?  Not
the scientific evolution that the bastard Sevarius claimed to know, but the actual myth?"
  "No."
  "The true gargoyles were offspring of angels and demons during the first War between
Good and Evil.  Rebelling angels or repentive demons, or even rape, no one knows how it
happened.  The first gargoyles were immortal and powerful, like their parents, the best and worst
of both worlds.  However, when the Children of Underhill first emerged on the scarred land, they
found the ancient gargoyles wandering the earth, unable to reproduce with their own kind.  The
Queen at the time, a fae some call Gaea, took pity on them and created another race compatible
with them, although she could not make them immortal and powerful.  These were the first mortal
gargoyles.  Eventually, there were many of our kind ruling the earth.  Then, another fae named
Prometheus created humans.  You must know the rest."
  Lexington nodded, taking the story in.
  "Caligo and I are the last ones left of that first race," she sighed.  "All the others killed each
other out of jealousy, rage, insanity.  Only my brother and I survived, although now he wishes to
kill me as well.  Most of our race's children had died off as well; and even if they still lived, the
lineage is watered down to the point of no matter.  Your friend Eddie, for example.  One of my
descendants, to be exact.  Too far, though, to be any worth.  Brooklyn, however, was another
story.  And then there's Luach, a child of all the races.  His mother fae and human, his father,
gargoyle, demonic and angelic.  He is the key to either the destruction or salvation of the
multiverse, though it is wiser to not allow him to know of his heritage, or the possibility of life as
we all know it dying may outcome.  Please consider my words, Lexington of Wyvern.  We will
meet again."  With that, she conventionally climbed the nearest building still partially intact and
glided off.
  Lex sighed, his eyes wide.
  He was unsure to believe her.  She had tricked him in the past.  As he stared down at his
right hand, the palm bearing the mark of the Black Sword, he then realised her voice rang some
truth.
  And, with the story still fresh in his mind, he headed home.

***
Castle Wyvern

  Tom stuck his head into the refrigerator, grabbing a leg of turkey.
  Biting into it, he took a can of beer as an afterthought and shut the door.
  Cracking open the tab with one hand, he exited the kitchen and headed into the library.
  "Luc?" He mumbled, his mouth full.  "You in here, little bro?"
  Washing down his snack with a swig of Coors, he wandered through the rows of shelves.
  "Little bro?"
  "Tom," a small voice whispered from the back of the room.  "Do you remember my
father?"
  The large gargoyle stopped, holding the leg in his mouth as he wiped his hand on his shirt
and pushed a stray lock of hair from his eyes.
  "Of course I do," he finally answered after freeing his mouth.  "Your dad was an
unforgettable kind of guy."
  "Did he have...did he have any...abilities...like mine...out of the ordinary...?"
  Tom raised an eye ridge, his beer can not quite to his mouth.
  "There were rumours amongst us children that he knew when we were causing trouble,
and he did, too.  Kat especially.  Sort of an omniscience, or something of the sort.  Then I
remember Arin saying something about him being cursed when he was your age by Titania that
gave him premonition.  That's all I really know, if that helps any."  He took a deep swig.
  "A little."
  "What's that you're reading?"
  Luc glanced up, a little startled.
  "I found it in Macbeth Manor," he whispered truthfully.
  "Anything good?"
  "Maybe."
  "What's it about?"
  "It's an album of my family."
  "Really?  You know your grampa was--"
  "--truly Macbeth, King of the Scots?  I knew that long ago."
  "I guess that's cool," Tom shrugged.  "Well, I'm gonna find Kat."
  "Is Nate still around?"
  "I don't know.  I'll check, if you--"
  "Don't bother.  I was just curious."
  Tom shrugged again, taking a pull off his beer, and left the library.
  Luc sighed, returning to the pages in the back.  Unfortunately, the some of the text was
either in Latin, French, or Italian, and those were the ones he could recognise.  The rest were more
in the general area of hieroglyphs and ideographs.  
  "Dammit!" He cursed, closing the book.  Rubbing his eyes, he checked his watch.  A few
more hours til sunrise.  
  Standing gingerly, he carefully made his way to the courtyard.  He stared out into the vast
star-filled sky.
  "Who am I?" he whispered to the twinkling balls of light.
  He continued his gazing for a little while longer, then turned to return inside.
  Above, a star blinked out, filling its place with a dark hole.

  Lexington returned home, appearing haggard.
  "Jalape¤o," he whispered.  "What a night."
  "Indeed it has been."
  That voice....
  Lexington's large eyes widened, his mind searching for when he last heard the voice,
although it didn't take long for him to process the sound-wave pattern.
  "There is not such thing as ghosts," he assured himself, and faced the visitor, shrouded in
the shadows.
  "Is there?" The beaked figure rumbled.
  "This can't be," the little cyborg muttered, holding his head.  "Brooklyn, it can't be you..."
  "It isn't."
  Zanth‚'s warning rang in his head once more as he readied his left shoulder mount.
  "Caligo!" he snarled.
  The shady figure nodded, not the least bit threatened by Lex's artillery.
  "I see my sister had already taken the liberty of informing you of the situation."  His voice,
on more careful assessment, was more stoic and deeper than Brooklyn's ever was, more even,
more aristocratic.  "Though you must remember me from the past...."
  "I know that far..." the cyborg did not budge.

  Kat tidied up in the infirmary after the cop finally left.  Very interesting creature, this Nate
Lovecraft, she thought, as she replaced the tools of her trade into the pantry.
  Her thoughts were suddenly jarred by an unknown force, a powerful telepathic presence
like she had never fell before--
  --no.  That was a lie.  She had felt it before.
  "Daddy?"  She whispered hoarsely, her hand to her breast.  It couldn't be!
  "Kat?" Tom stuck his head in the door.  "What's wrong?"
  The brick red woman said nothing, only passed him quickly with nothing so much as a
brush off his shoulder.
  The male blinked and followed her out to the courtyard.
  "Kat!  Tom!  Back into the castle.  NOW!"  Lexington's bounced off the stone walls.
  "Uncle Lex--" both of them protested.
  "GO!" he roared.
  Luc limped up behind his sister and her companion.
  "What's going on?" he demanded.
  "NO!  Luc, run!"
  "What is it, Uncle Lex?" the young man advanced around the corner...
  ...and stared at the back of a large grey gargoyle with pitch black hair plaited down to his
waist.
  The new gargoyle spun around to regard the tan male with curious dark grey eyes.
  Kat gasped; Tom paled.
  Luc opened his mouth to speak, staring in awe and shock up at the face almost identical to
his own.  Finally, he managed to utter a word:
  "Darkness..."
  The other gargoyle nodded slightly.
  And, with that, Lexington attacked.
  "Stay away from him!" the cyborg snarled, relying on more conventional techniques of
fighting rather than artillery.
  Panic grasped the young man's heart as he held up a hand.  The Power suddenly welled up
from that panic, blazing his eyes silver.
  "STOP!" he shouted, his Word resonating the air so intensely it forced both combatants to
freeze in their tracks.
  Lexington's eyes narrowed somewhat, surprised.  Never had Luc ever used his Power on
his family until now.
  "I can't let the two of you hurt each other," the tan gargoyle answered his unasked
question.  "I care too much for you, Uncle Lex; I know you'd be outmatched against Caligo."
  The newcomer laughed, almost jovially.
  "A bright lad, you are," he smiled.  "You figured out my name."
  "It didn't take much," Luc whispered, touching Lexington's shoulder.  His eyes this time
glowed softly as he muttered, "Release."
  The little cyborg, for the second time that night, relaxed from his frozen position.
  "Who are you?" Kat demanded meekly to the still-stationary male.
  "A moment."  As if breaking out of stone hibernation, Caligo shattered the spell just as
easily if Luc did it himself.  Looking over the powerfully built woman, he smiled somewhat.  "You
are of the blood as well, child, though you are more gargoyle than your brother."
  "What the hell are you talking about?" She snapped, gaining confidence, coming to her
brother's defense.
  "You take after your father," Caligo smirked.  "Though Luach has more of his mother's
fae/human heritage."
  "How did you--" Lex, Tom, and Kat protested.
  "--know?  I've been...watching the two of you for quite some time now." The smile on his
beak widened, showing teeth.
  Luc, who remained quiet throughout this, spoke up.
  "You're Kathryn's and my grandfather, aren't you?"
  "Again, I applaud your cleverness."
  Lexington groaned, fear clutching his heart.  He would not let Brooklyn and Arin down. 
He had promised the two of them he would watch over Luc, and by God, if Zanth‚ was correct,
he was not going to lose the boy.
  "I am no longer a hatchling, so stop treating me like one!" Luc suddenly snapped angrily.
  Lexington took a step back.  That was impossible.  Even if Luc was telepathic, Lex's
cybernetic implants dampened psionic manipulation, including mindreading.
  Luc and Caligo sighed simultaneously.
  "Let us discuss this further inside." The grey gargoyle finally broke the uneasy silence.  "It
is a long story, one that is best told sitting with a glass of wine in easy reach."

***
Fifth Avenue, heading north toward Bronx

  Nate yawned.  It had been a long night.
  Suddenly, he saw her.
  A perfect woman with long blond hair leaned against a sign post, her eyes gazing up at the
dark skies.
  He almost dismissed her as a prostitute, save for the fact that she radiated an aura
of...virginity...around her being.
  Pulling Artemis over to the curb, he rolled down the window on the passenger side and
called out, "Are you all right, miss?"
  The woman's gaze slowly met his odd eyes...her's infinite blue...with no pupils....
  "Detective Lovecraft," she greeted.  "We've been waiting for you...."
  Two other women, identical to the first, save for one had raven black hair, the other with
snow white locks, joined the blond.
  Triplets...?
  He was mesmerised by the way they moved as if they were one.
  "You are the Chosen," the raven-haired woman retorted.  "Chosen to aide the Four to the
Ends of Time, to defeat the Devourer."
  The man could not even blink.  Here were three women who knew his name telling him a
line that sounded straight from a Edgar Rice Burroughs book, and as his rational mind raced,
trying to convince the rest of him these were just crazy chicks who were trying to get him into a
menage-a-quartet, he found somewhere in his sub-consciousness, he heard truth in their words.
  "But he is unprepared, Selene," the white-haired one whispered.
  "Yo, Nate!" Artemis broke the spell with her digitalised voice.  "Wake up and drive!"
  He shook the fine mists of the spell from his head and, without a word, threw the car into
first and popped the clutch.
  As they watched the GTO rush off, the Weird Sisters folded their arms over their chests
simultaneously.
  "He will understand shortly," the blond smiled mysteriously, and the three vanished in a
vapor of mist.

***
Castle Wyvern

  Caligo seemed a little annoyed to the fact there was no wine anywhere in the kitchen.  Only
a couple of six-packs of Coors, which he took anyway and sat down at the table.  Glancing at each
other gargoyles face momentarily, he sighed and put the beer in front of him.
  "My sister is the one who went insane, not I," he began, directing it more to Lexington
then anyone else.  "I only came to New York to meet my grandchildren.  I missed out on my own
son's life, and though he will probably never forgive me for that, I didn't want the same thing to
happen here.  Zanth‚ is paranoid, manipulative.  She desires me dead for some unknown thing I
did aeons ago.  Her revenge has driven her mad."  He reached over and grabbed the first can. 
Cracking it open, he continued with his story.  "When she found out I was still alive, she waited for
the opportunity to strike me personally.  She will not kill innocents, I grant her that, but she
will...manipulate them...like she just did with you, er, Lexington."
  "I do not trust Zanth‚," the cyborg nodded.  "But I trust you even less."
  "I was clansman to you, and you do not trust me?"
  "Wait a minute," Kat stood.  "Clansmen...?  You were part of Clan Wyvern?"
  "At one time," Lexington growled.  "But he was reportably killed while on a hunting trip. 
Hudson came back telling us of a Viking raid."
  "I remember that day well," Caligo nodded.  "This...Hudson...was once Leader, the only
one who knew of my immortality."
  Lex's left eye ridge shot up.
  Caligo finished the can and reached for another.  "I regretted leaving, though."
  "Hindsight's always twenty-twenty," Lex grumbled.
  "Grown cynical in your old age, boy?" The grey gargoyle's mouth quirked upward.
  "You abandoned us!"
  "Enough!" Luc ordered, his fist crashing onto the table. "Uncle Lex, you have done
nothing but constantly be at his throat!  Give him a chance to speak!"
  For a split second, Lexington stared at the young man.  A rare look of anger flashed in
Luc's eyes, and the cyborg realised how much his eyes seems so much like Macbeth's.
  Lex slumped into his chair, defeated, quiet. 
  "My only regrets are that I did not stay in Scotland that day in 994 and the fact I never
attempted to find Brooklyn until he was an adult, a meeting that wasn't the best of reunions.  I do
not want that to happen again."  Caligo sighed, leaning back in the kitchen chair, finished for now.
  Tom, who was decided it was better to stay out of this matter, took a bag of corn chips
from the counter and dug in, glancing at Kat once in a while to catch a glimpse of what she was
expressing.
  Usually, it was stoic disbelief.
  He reached over and squeezed her hand.
  She nodded slightly, though her line of sight was still locked on Caligo.  It was hard to see
what emotions were welling up inside her.
  Luc broke the silence with three words.
  "I believe you."

***
Stewart Street Apartments
The Bronx

  Taking his leather bomber jacket off and throwing it on the couch, Nate made a beeline to
his kitchen. Opening the fridge door, he grabbed a Budweiser, grumbling as he did, and walked
back to the couch.  Sinking into the comforting cushions, he cracked open the cap and drank
deeply.
  A movement caught his eye.
  Setting his drink on the table, he put a hand on his Derringer.
  And suddenly, the three women from the Manhattan street corner appeared in front of
him.
  "How the hell did you get in here?"  He demanded, drawing his gun but holding relaxed.
  "Do you take us for mere mortals?" The white-haired woman questioned.  "We are
Children of Oberon, and we come and go as we please."
  "That's very nice and all, but what's this have to do with me?"
  The blond floated toward him.
  "You are needed to defeat the Devourer," she hissed.
  "I don't understand..."
  "There are four gargoyles of the same blood," the raven-haired woman retorted.  "Four
gargoyles marked by Fate."
  "'Four gargoyles marked by Fate'..." he repeated, nodding slowly.  "They just so happened
to be the ones I ran into tonight in Brooklyn, right?"
  "The boy," the white-haired one nodded.
  "Luc," Nate whispered.
  "Luach, yes.  He is the key.  With the blood of the three races within him, he holds a part
in the destruction of the Devourer."
  Somehow, the three's words seemed to sink in more readily than he would have liked.
  "What do you mean, the blood of the three races?  And who is this 'Devourer'?" He
asked, raising an eye ridge, taking a sip of his beer.
  "Luach is gargoyle, human, and fae.  The three races," the dark one retorted impatiently, as
if that was obvious knowledge.
  "And the Devourer is that: an evil entity who's sole existence is to devourer all life in its
path."  The blond continued.  "It has no boundaries; space nor time cannot confine it."
  "And what is my part in this?" Nate muttered.  Damn, this was only his first beer.  Usually
it took him a six-pack to start hearing voices, and another to see things.
  "You have the power to follow the Devourer." The three spoke as one.
  "Shit!" He sat up, holding the bottle in one hand, throwing his hands out to stop them from
talking.  "Listen, I don't know who or what you are, but if you think I'm this almighty Eternal
Champion, I'm not.  I'm a cop.  A detective, to be exact.  I have no supernatural X-Men
powers...just a little TK and telepathy...I'm not the guy you're looking for."
  "Then your denial will cost you not only your life, but the lives of all who live in the
multiverse," the white-haired woman whispered, as they started to fade.
  This struck him hard.
  "Wait!" He set down the beer and grabbed the blond's arm, which was surprisingly
tangible.  "What do you mean?"
  "The Devourer is heading toward Earth." The raven woman remarked simply.
  He paled.
  He fell back into the couch.
  "Tell me more," he hissed.
  The three smiled secretively.  They had him hooked.

***
Castle Wyvern

  Lexington stared at the tan gargoyle in disbelief.
  "What?" His voice was almost inaudible.
  "I believe him."  He directed his gaze back to Lex.
  "You hardly even know--"
  "I think I am capable of making my own decisions," Luc growled.
  "Luc, please," Kat placed a hand on her brother's shoulder.  "Uncle Lex is only trying to
look out for you--"
  "--By treating me like a hatchling?  I've lived too much of a sheltered life as it is.  I'm forty
years old, Kat.  There must be something besides these walls in the world."
  Caligo, remaining quiet but evaluating the situation nevertheless, reached over for another
beer.  Cracking it open, he indicated to Luc.  "Indeed there is, child--"
  "You're not helping, Caligo," Lex snarled.
  "And neither are you." The larger gargoyle stood, anger flaring in his eyes.  "You don't
expect to keep him here all his life, do you?  He's already an adult, yet you do not wish for him to
become one.  Are you afraid to be left alone?"
  Lexington flinched, mentally wounded.
  Caligo smiled slightly, a spark of triumph in his eyes.
  "You are afraid of loneliness...." he nodded, sitting back down.  "Losing the clan's children
to adulthood frightens you..."
  "Enough!" Kat ordered.  "Both of you!  All of you!  It's childish just arguing the point! 
Yes, Luc's an adult, and yes, we have been sheltering him, mainly because we didn't wish him to
deal with the hell we were put through as children." Her tone became softer.  "Tom and I never
really had a childhood.  Not during the war."
  Luc's eyes dulled somewhat as he glanced at his sister.
  "What are you trying to say, Kathryn?" he whispered.
  Sighing again, she retorted, "I say you're an adult.  It's your decision what you want to do
with your life.  If you want to leave the castle, it's your choice."
  Lexington's surprised gaze locked on the brick red female.  He then stared at Tom, who
was stuffing his mouth with the remains of the corn chips.  He shrugged.
  "I personally don't see why anyone would leave all this, but hey, I know for a fact that
there is more than the castle.  Discovery Channel.  I'm happy."  With a satisfying grin, he grabbed
one of the remaining beers from in front of Caligo.  Lexington took a millisecond to realise Tom
just eluded the entire subject.
  "I don't know what it would take to prove to you I'm old enough to look out for myself,"
Luc shook his head.
  Lexington said nothing, only pointed to the young man's ankle.
  "You might have been killed tonight if you were on your own," he finally retorted.
  Luc bit his lip.  Uncle Lex had a point.
  Caligo finished his third beer and grabbed a fourth.
  "The boy is welcome to join me in my travels," he stated, reading the label and, grimacing
somewhat at the ingredients, cracked the tab.  "I would welcome his company, and, what I
understand, he wishes to know more of his past, a past of which I can inform him."
  There was a curse from the small cyborg.
  "You are a fool to believe Zanth‚," Caligo hissed.
  "I would be a fool to believe either one of you," Lexington snapped.  "But right now I'm
more inclined to trust her.  At least she never abandoned the Black Sword."
  The large grey gargoyle shot up to his feet, his eyes flaring white, a challenge which
Lexington met gladly.
  The three younger gargoyles rose, Kat and Tom with fear lining their faces, Luc with an
unreadable glaze over his eyes.
  And all froze in the stance as the sun's rays filtered into the kitchen's windows.

***
Berwick Apartment
The Bronx

  Zo‰ Sommers crossed her legs as she sat at her personal terminal, her grey eyes skimming
the screen.  The digital patterns would have meant very little to the average cop, but the IBM
accelerator chip implanted within her brain connecting her to the computer via a socket in the back
of her neck deciphered the meanings of the satellite images sent to her computer.
  A knock on her door interrupted her analysis.  Quickly disengaging her wet-wire hardware
from her neck, the woman padded over to the comm system and pressed the "talk" button.
  "Zo‰, it's me, Nate," her partner's voice retorted, seeming tired but excited.
  Unlocking the door, she allowed the mutate into her sparsely-furnished living room.
  "Beer?" She offered.
  "No thanks; too early in the morning," he shook his head, falling onto the couch. 
"Dammit, what a night."
  "What happened in Brooklyn, anyway?" Zo‰ demanded, grabbing a Coke from the fridge.
  "Oh, that wasn't the problem, sis.  I just had a run-in with three women--"
  "--I don't want to know your sex-life--"
  "--Who" he exaggerated the word to regain her attention "claimed to be none other than
the Fates themselves."
  The woman blinked.
  "They talked about some sort of Devourer out in space, eating life in its path."
  The woman blinked again.
  Finally, she spoke.
  "I've been wet-wired into the Hubble II since I got off duty," she remarked.  "I would say
you were in serious need of a vacation save for one simple fact."  She beckoned him to follow her
to her computer.  "You said 'Devourer'.  I found a rather disturbing anomaly about five hundred
light-years from here.  I wouldn't have second thoughts about it, until I realised something rather
strange.  First off, Betelgeuse is gone."
  "Supernova?"
  "No; gone." She typed inhumanly fast at the keyboard.  "If it was a smaller star, not many
people would notice.  But we're talking about Orion's shoulder.  There is no indication of a black
hole or anything of the sorts.  It just disappeared."
  "Or devoured," Nate whispered.
  The woman nodded somewhat.
  "What else did these 'Fates' tell you?"
  "Four gargoyles of the same blood had the power to stop this Devourer, and only I could
track it down."
  "Sounds like a Moorcock novel."
  "I guessed Burroughs."
  "This is too far-fetched for me to swallow, if I didn't have other proof.  Artemis had a vid-
clip on your run-in with the gargoyles in Brooklyn." Taking a small laser disc from a case next to
her, she typed in a few more commands, then placed the disc into a drive.  "The white female
interested me the most.  Watch as she opens Arty's door."  With no audio, the video seemed
missing a few details, however, he could clearly see the locking mechanism in the door next to the
kid pop up on the screen.
  "Telekinesis?" He suggested.
  "I would say so too, but watch this.  Comp, voice activation.  Play back frames one-
hundred twenty to three-hundred forty-seven.  Focus at subject in upper left corner.  Activate
vocal wave analyser.  Go."
  The computer beeped an affirmative, rewinding to the desired frames.  A box at the
bottom of the monitor maximised.  The view focused in around the albino gargoyle's face.
  "Computer, start playback with projected voice."
  It beeped again, and simply retorted, "Open."
  "Save vocal analysis."
  Beep.
  "Minimise video."
  Beep, and the top box disappeared.
  "Playback projected audio only.  Nate, watch the wave patterns."
  Beep. "Open."
  The voice waves fluxed once, twice, then settled back down into a flat line.
  "Isn't that normal?" Nate finally asked.
  Zo‰ shook her head.
  "At the tone of her voice, the vox spikes should have been much smaller.  Computer,
measure resonance factor around vox sample."
  A number popped up in a smaller framed box on the screen.
  "A normal voice would register about a ten on this factor," Zo‰ explained quickly.  "How
much the voice resonates the objects around it.  An operatic voice shattering glass has a factor of
about a hundred.  Look at this bitch's factor, though."
  Nate glanced at the screen, reading the number "538" just above the vocal analyser box.
  "That's an impossibility," Zo‰ continued.  "Betelgeuse disappearing is an impossibility. 
You meeting the Fates is an impossibility.  Just what the hell is going on, Nate?"
  The reptilian shook his head.
  "The end of the world," he whispered, sinking into an armchair.  "I need some sleep."
  She pointed to the couch.
  "You're welcome to crash here, bro," she smirked, turning to her own room.  "Personally,
that isn't a bad idea."
  "Night, Zo‰."
  "Pleasant dreams, Nate."

***

  Though his dreams were no longer pleasant.
  Images of the past haunted his dreamscape, memories he would have felt them best left
buried.
  The nightmares of the Clone Wars, dreams he hadn't had in over three decades, returned.
  Remembrance of his friends, Tanya killing herself, Tristan going insane and babbling in
tongues, and Eric...well, nobody like Eric...welled up inside him.
  Then another vision came to him.
  This one was unfamiliar.  A figure, shrouded in shadows.  A female gargoyle wearing
aviator glasses and a flight outfit.  Luc.  Brooklyn, leader of the Resistance, though he was
smaller...there were more figures...gargoyles, humans, creatures seemingly demons...places he had
never been...different skies, some red as a sunset, some pitch black with no stars dotting the
sky...desolate places....
  And then he saw the Devourer.
  How he knew it was the Devourer was beyond him.  There was a sense of malice from the
dark void...an evil, endless hunger that radiated with dark rays as it engulfed suns and planets and
life...
  ...and devoured it....
  And suddenly, he felt the red embers of the Devourer's eyes on him.
  A telepathic probe unlike anything he had ever felt entered his brain, filling the mutate with
fear.
  And the Devourer began to feed...
  It was feeding on his fear...
  Nate fought back, slamming up a psionic shield so fast it gave himself a headache.
  The creature bellowed in pain, drawing back into its place in the void.
  (THIS IS NOT OVER, NATHANIEL LOVECRAFT,) the Devourer rumbled in a unisex
mind voice.  (WHEN IT IS, HOWEVER, I WILL PREVAIL.  YOU CANNOT STOP ME. 
NOT EVEN WITH THE HELP OF THE CHOSEN.  I WILL DEVOUR ALL OF THEM,
RELISHING ON YOUR BONES--)
  (NO!) Nate cried, firing off a burst of psychic energy at the black void, with only minimal
effect.  (you have fed long enough.  if you continue, soon you will have nothing to feed on.)
  (THERE ARE MORE THAN ONE UNIVERSE, AND MORE THAN ONE TIME.  IT
IS INFINITE, AS AM I.)
  Then a bolt of shadows struck the man, shattering his dreamscape.

***

  "No!" He screamed, flying to his feet.  Drenched in sweat, he glanced around wildly,
finally focusing on Zo‰, sitting next to the couch with a shocked look to her expression.
  "You okay, Nate?" she whispered.  "I've been trying to wake you for two hours."
  "Dammit, Zo‰," he calmed down a bit, running his fingers through his damp hair.  "I had a
nightmare.  The Devourer...it came to me..."
  "Listen, Nate, this 'Devourer' has to be a force of some sort.  You're talking like it was a
living entity."
  "It is."
  "But nothing living can be that huge.  It's impossible."
  "Is it?  Yes, it is a force, and yes, it is alive.  It touched my mind and tried to feed off my
fear."
  Zo‰ raised an eyebrow.
  "There is still things out there what we as humans cannot explain." She stood, then added,
"Yet."
  Nate nodded, standing as well.
  "What time is it?" He asked.
  "Time to go on duty," she retorted.  "In another hour, at least.  You've been out almost
fourteen hours, bro."
  "Shit."  He rubbed at the stubble on his face.  "I need to freshen up."
  "You know where the bathroom is."

***
Castle Wyvern

  The five gargoyles broke out of their stone encasings with a collective roar, followed by a
loud yawn from Tom.
  Caligo shook stone fragments out of his jet black hair and stared down at Lexington.  He,
however, said nothing.
  Luc was the first to speak.
  "I want to see the world."
  Lexington looked downcast as he finally replied, "I cannot keep you here.  It's your own
choice, Luc.  Just choose wisely."
  Luach smiled broadly as he removed the wrappings around his ankle.  He hugged the small
cyborg.
  "Thank you, Uncle Lex," he whispered.
  "If I forbade you to go, would you have listened?"
  Luc thought for a moment, then shook his head.
  "I don't think I could stay here much longer anyway," the young man remarked.  "I know
this castle, this city, too well.  It's time for me to explore more than just New York."
  "I just hope I'm listening to the right twin," Lex grumbled, directing the statement to
Caligo.
  "I would never let any harm befall any of my blood, Lexington," the grey gargoyle
retorted.  "Unfortunately, Zanth‚ does not follow my morals.  You should watch her carefully.  I
did for aeons."
  Lexington nodded, a little sorrowed.
  "Luc, are you sure this is what you want to do?" Kat whispered, hugging her brother.
  "This is what I dreamed of all my life, Kat," he replied earnestly.  "The chance to see
where Father once lived and where Grandfather once ruled, to see Greece and Rome and
Japan...it's too much of an opportunity to miss."
  "Mother liked to explore, too." Kat only smiled, though her eyes were also showing signs
of sadness.  "You remind me a lot of her."
  Tom, who still remained to stay quiet, finally picked up the tan gargoyle in a bonecrushing
bear hug.
  "I'm going to miss you, little bro!" he cried freely.
  "I'll miss all of you," Luc agreed.  "But for me to learn more, I must move on."

***
19th Precinct House
The Bronx
  Nate yawned, taking another cup of coffee to his desk.
  This downright sucked.  Fourteen hours of sleep, and he still felt like a wreck.
  "It was that damned dream," he reassured himself for the thousandth time.  "That's what's
getting to me.  That frigging nightmare."
  "Talking to yourself, bro?"
  He started at Zo‰'s voice.
  "I can't help it, Zo‰," he mumbled.  "I just keep thinking back to that dream..."
  "Listen," she grabbed onto his hands and pulled him to his feet.  "Why don't you go on
patrol.  I'll finish up the paperwork.  It'll keep your mind off of that stupid Devourer story.  Or,
should I say, Artemis will," she added with a wiggle of her eyebrows.
  "Very funny," he muttered as he grabbed his jacket from his chair.  "Have fun.  I'll report
later."
  Zo‰ waved good-bye, sat at his terminal, and booted up the Quake 2000 game.
  
***

  He only took what he deemed important.
  The album.  Definitely the album.
  His army jacket.  A memento of his maternal grandfather during a war last century, it
donned the name "MacDuff" over his left breast.
  Money.  Don't leave home without it.  About ten twenty-dollar bills.
  A note from his father in his wallet.  Just before he was hatched, his father wrote a small
note to him, a note that read that no matter the outcome of the war, he would still love him.  He
had it for forty years, creased heavily but still readable.  Someday, he would get it laminated.
  His baby blanket, now just a tangle of faded strands of fabric that could easily fit into one
of his pockets.  Obvious reasons.
  Everything else, he could leave.
  With a final goodbye to his family at Wyvern, Luach wished them well and promised he
would return soon.
  And, with that in mind, he and Caligo glided off to the north.
  Somewhere in the castle, a few hours later, a wail of a baby echoed against the stone walls.
  As Kat and Tom found they had a beautiful daughter, Lexington could not help but think
of the possibility of history repeating itself.
  And as Tom held out baby Sierra to the small cyborg, dismissed the thought.
  Though the threat unknown to them still loomed above them, as Alpha Centauri blinked
out.
  And Sierra...well, Sierra is another story for another time...

***

  The driving helped somewhat, but Nate still had a sense of threat, of uneasiness.
  "Artemis, activate link with Zo‰."
  "Gotcha."
  The holographic link came online, the blond woman appearing in the front seat.
  "Slow night," Zo‰ muttered.
  "Want to join in a manage-a-trois?" Artemis joked.
  "Oh, shut up," Zo‰ grimaced good-heartedly.
  "I need you to check on the Hubble II again," Nate ordered.  "I have a very bad feeling..."
  "Yeah, no problem..." Zo‰ nodded with a shrug, typing at the invisible keyboard.  "...holy
shit..."
  "What?"
  "Aw, man..." Zo‰ stared shocked at the object in front of her.
  "Zo‰, what is it?"
  "Remember that disturbance last night that took out Betelgeuse?"
  "Yeah..."
  "Well, we can kiss Alpha Centauri good-bye as well."
  "WHAT?!" Nate's odd eyes widened in fear.  "The Devourer is only four light-years away,
then..."
  "This is getting scary." Zo‰ off-lined.
  "Dammit," he whispered, then slammed his hand onto the dash.  "Dammit!"
  "What is it, Nate?" Artemis asked in a motherly voice.
  "We've got to get to the Eyrie Building pronto!" He shouted, gunning the gas.

***

  "I understand you possess the Willed Word."
  Luc blinked, staring at his grandfather, who he did not know he had until last night, as they
glided over Central Park.
  "I guess, if that's what you call it."
  "Zanth‚ possesses it as well.  Do you know how to use your Power?"
  "I can't willingly," the young man retorted.  "Usually when I'm threatened, or someone
close to me is...and if I'm not too careful, I can really get burned out and ultimately black out."
  "You use your own energy then to fuel the Power."
  "I guess."
  Caligo shook his head somewhat, seeming amused.
  "I could teach you how to use the Willed Word.  I personally don't have the Power, but I
do have the knowledge to use it--" the grey gargoyle stopped his words short, his head cocked to
one side as if listening.
  "What is it, Caligo?"
  The much older gargoyle's deep grey eyes widened.
  "Come with me," he ordered instead of answering, diving to street level.
  Luc did what he was told, landing in a darkened alleyway next to Caligo.
  "What is it?" Luc repeated.
  "Caligo!"  the white female from last night touched down at the mouth of the alley.  "I see
you have finally managed to hook up with the boy."
  "You cannot stop Fate, Zanth‚," Caligo snarled.  "You can try, like all our kin did, but
soon you'll find that Fate will come around and stop you."
  "Then at least I can stop you," she growled. "Disintergr--"
  "SILENCE!"
  Luc had Felt her Power the moment of her first syllable.
  He Felt it directed to Caligo on the second.
  His rage fueled his Power on the third.
  And he found his Voice as she uttered the last, directing his Word to her.
  She had no time to prepare for his onslaught as her Voice was ripped out of her throat
before she could finish her Word.
  She screamed, the last noise she made.
  And then she became silent.
  "You bastard," she mouthed, a little exaggerated.
  Caligo stood, his smile couldn't have been wider.
  "Leave us, Zanth‚," he commanded.
  (don't think this is over, brother,) she snarled mentally.  (the devourer comes as we speak. 
i'll be relishing the fact that at least it will savour your bones.  I found a way to escape.  have you?)
  "The Devourer can only be defeated, sister; you cannot run from it," Caligo stated,
monotone underlaid with a hint of worry.
  (don't count on it.) She saluted sardonically and climbed the building to glide off.
  "And again, I escape death." Caligo sighed, placing a hand on Luc's shoulder.  "Thank
you, Luach.  I wasn't expecting her to pull that.  I thought she would have more honour than to
use her Word on me."
  "The way Uncle Lex talked about her, she never had any to begin with," Luc commented,
a little tired.  "May we walk a bit?  I'm a little worn from that."
  "Of course," Caligo nodded.

***

  Nate suppressed a pounding sensation in his temples as he drove down Fifth Avenue.
  He had to find the kid.
  "Nate, you know we're going out of our range--"
  "Shut up, Artemis.  You don't know how deep in shit we are in..."
  "What's going on?"
  "Cliff Notes version: We have an evil entity roughly the size of an entire solar system
heading toward Earth, devouring everything in its path.  You remember those three chicks from
last night?"
  "The three prostitutes?  Yeah..."
  "They were the Fates, Artemis.  They told me that this creature can only be stopped by
four gargoyles within the same family or something like that.  I had a vision this morning.  I know
what these four look like.  And the kid from last night is one of them."
  "I think someone needs a vacation..."
  "As a matter of fact, Artemis, I've never been saner."
  If Artemis was human, she would have shook her head.
  "Hey, Nate," she then beckoned.  "I've got two gargs on foot, coming almost directly to
us."
  "Is it Luc?"
  "How should I know?" She snarled as he pulled her to the side of the street.  Getting out,
he jogged toward the two figures.
  "Luc!" He shouted.
  "Nate?"  The smaller gargoyle demanded.
  The mutate halted about fifty feet from the Goat and waited up for them.
  "What's up?" Luc asked, seeing the concern lining Nate's face.
  "You're going to think me crazy, but..." he took a breath and told the same story as he told
Artemis, the larger gargoyle nodding occasionally, stopping him momentarily.
  "Do you mean, the Weird Sisters?" he questioned.  "The Weird Sisters came to you?"  He
glanced up at the sky and cursed.
  "Caligo?" Luc beckoned.
  "What did they tell you, boy?" Caligo demanded bluntly to the mutate.
  "The Devourer--"
  Caligo's face drained to the colour of ash.
  "--is coming toward Earth, and I am the one who can follow it through time and space...or
some shit like that...."  He shook his head.  "Dammit, my mind's all jumbled...."
  Caligo growled somewhat.
  "This cannot be," he whispered.
  "What is it?" Luc asked.
  "The Devourer was destroyed...I saw it destroyed..."
  "Well, it's threatening life as we know it right now," Nate pointed up to the sky.  "Last I
checked, it just made lunch of Alpha Centauri!  And it's coming for dinner here!"
  The grey gargoyle stared wide-eyed at the smaller creature.
  "Then we haven't much time," Caligo finally retorted.
  "What is this Devourer?" Luc demanded.
  "Bad news," Nate snarled.  "Get in the car!  Apparently Tiny knows more than the rest of
us."  He turned on his heel and bolted toward Artemis, with Luc jogging after him.
  Caligo hesitated, looking up at the stars.  He had stared up at the constellations that had
come to keep him company for millennia upon millennia.  
  But some of the stars, those tiny suns millions of miles away, were missing.
  Devoured.
  A single tear ran down his cheek in remembrance.
  Suddenly, something swooped down onto him.
  It was the mute Zanth‚.
  "You do not give up, do you, sister?" he snarled, grasping her loincloth and throwing her
onto the pavement.
  Her flaring red eyes met his in total animosity.
  "Get out of here!" He shouted to Nate and Luc.
  Nate recognised the other gargoyle from last night, the one with the resonating voice, and
nodded.  As Luc protested from the passenger's seat, Nate slammed Artemis into reverse and
popped the clutch.  Hammering on the gas, he pushed in the clutch again and threw her in first. 
Not taking much time to depress the clutch and hit it again to second, third, then overdrive, he
peeled off into the north, towards the Bronx.
  "I would have thought you to run by now," Caligo rumbled, diving into the shadows.  That
was his domain; that was where he was strongest.
  (you threaten the balance, caligo,) she growled, and pounced again, only to be entangled
by tendrils of shadow.
  "You threatened the Balance when you renounced your heritage," Caligo's voice had
softened with his mergence into the darkness, though still kept its potency.
  (gargoyles have no need for their heritage!  you dwell too much in the past.  gargoyles are
creatures of action.)
  Caligo said nothing, only the white orbs that served for his eyes stared back up at the sky.
  "As we speak a great evil is descending on Earth.  Will you allow it to destroy this world?"
He whispered after a few moments of silence.
  (balance calls for it.)
  "Damn you!"
  (damn yourself for believing in something stronger than balance.)
  He snarled something intangible, then melted completely into the shadows, dropping
Zanth‚ on the cold pavement.
  The albino smiled somewhat as she picked herself up and pulled out an amulet from her
belt pouch.  It was gold and blue, heart-shaped, with some sort of bird in an impossible position. 
Holding it up over her head, she spoke the words--
  --though no sound came out.
  Panicked realisation overtook her as she sank to her knees and sobbed uncontrollably.
  Damn that little bastard, she thought as the sky blacked with what appeared to be
stormclouds with a taint of evil to the air.  Damn him and Caligo....

***

  Nate groaned, pulling Artemis over to the curb.  Throwing the e-brake on, he hissed
painfully to Luc, "Drive."
  The gargoyle seemed shocked.
  "I can't drive a stick..." he revealed.
  "You're going to learn rather quickly, boy." Jumping out, he staggered around the front to
the passenger side.  "Out.  I can't drive any longer."
  Without any more argument, Luc nodded, switching sides.
  When they were both inside once again, Nate whispered, "Step on the brake and clutch."
  Luc nodded again, doing so.
  "Take off the e-brake."
  Done.
  "Put it into first."
  All set.
  "Now, easy, take your foot off the brake and touch the gas as you release the clutch..."
  Artemis lurched forward, jumping to three-thousand RPM.
  "Watch it, kid!  I'm an old car!" She protested.
  "Sorry," he managed to keep control of the Goat.
  "At least he didn't stall.  Artemis, tell him when to shift.  When she does, take your foot
off the gas somewhat, hit the clutch, shift up, and release, hitting the gas again.  Got it?"
  Nod.
  "Good."  He groaned again, closing his eyes.  "It's here...I can feel it..."
  "Shift, kid," Artemis ordered, her engine whining.
  Luc did so, hitting the gas a little too soon.  The tachometer jumped to five.
  "Shit!  Kid!  My poor tranny..."
  "Sorry!"
  The stormclouds became thicker, as Nate screamed with pain.
  "Nate!" Artemis and Luc shouted, as the car added worriedly, "Shift, Luc!"
  He did, a lot smoother this time.
  No time to congratulate himself, he kept his mind on the road.
  A bolt of lightning flared from the sky, striking the concrete dead in front of the GTO.
  A figure stood where it had struck, an ominous creature, almost gargoyle-esque in stamina,
in the middle of the street, his hand held out to stop.
  "Brake!  Then clutch, put in neutral, throw on e-brake!" she barked, as Luc did what he
was told.
  The car skidded to a stop, mere inches from the creature.
  "Oh, man..." Luc mouthed, gawking at it with horrific eyes.  Its features were difficult to
make out; only its burning red eyes and powerful wings were clearly defined.
  Nate suddenly panicked, odd-eyes wide, his face draining of colour, as it floated closer to
the car.
  (CHOSEN...) its mind voice rumbled.  (I WILL ENJOY FEASTING ON ALL OF YOU. 
FOR SOME REASON, YOUR EARTH IS SO...RICH...WITH LIFE.  I PLAN ON TAKING
MY TIME WITH THIS.)
  "LEAVE!" Nate screamed.
  (NEVER.)
  And the Devourer dove, phasing through the glass and, becoming a fine mist, entered Nate
through his eyes.
  The mutate screamed, his body becoming rigid mortis, as the creature fed.
  Luc took a deep breath, remembering what his grandfather had stated to him.
  You use your own energy then to fuel the Power.
  And his energy was limited.
  An idea struck him in the few milliseconds he had to act.  Throwing open the door, he
grounded his foot on the pavement.  Grabbing Nate's shoulder, he closed his eyes, imaging a
current of energy from the Earth itself and fueling his Power.  Opening his blazing silver eyes, he
uttered a single word.
  "Purge."
  The Power surged through the young man and into Nate's body, as both the mutate and
Devourer shrieked.  The creature reformed outside the car, cursing.
  Nate slumped, exhausted.
  (THE BOY IS POWERFUL, YES,) it grinned sardonically.  (MORE POWERFUL
THAN I REALISED.  OH, WELL, LESSON LEARNED.  BUT DO NOT GET TOO COCKY,
LUACH OF WYVERN.  YOU WILL NEVER BE SO MUCH TO DESTROY ME.)
  Luc blinked, shaking his head as the Devourer's voice rang in his mind.
  The creature laughed and held it hand behind it, creating a vortex of some sort behind it,
one that ripped the fabric of space and time.  He flapped its wings and flew into the whirlpool.  
  Nate's eyes flew open.
  "Follow him!" he commanded, throwing his hand toward the vortex.
  Luc, terrified, pulled his foot back in, slamming the door closed, and, with a jerky lurch,
Artemis sped after the Devourer.
  A burst of light suddenly engulfed them, blinding the Luc and Nate.
  And then there was silence as the two blacked out.

***

  "Yo, Luc...Luc, you okay?"
  The young gargoyle opened his eyes slowly, groaning in pain as the harsh flourescent light
of the street lamp above them reached them.
  "Damn..." he muttered, squinting as he sat up.  He was still in the driver's seat, and Nate,
now looking much better and more alive, was shaking his shoulder.  "What the hell happened?"
  "We followed the Devourer, like we were supposed to," the mutate whispered eerily.
  Luc shrugged, mumbling something intangible, though Nate could have sworn he heard
"analgesic" in the jumbled phrase.  Opening the glove box, he pulled out and tossed Luc a couple
of aspirin.
  "Thanks," the gargoyle nodded, swallowing them dry.  "God, do I feel like crap."
  "Whatever the hell you did to me back there, thanks," Nate commented at the same time. 
"What was that, anyway?"
  "I've only heard it called the Willed Word.  That's all I know about it," he pushed himself
higher in the seat.  "By the way, where are we?"
  "Looks like Central Park, early winter," Nate glanced out the window.  "Though
something's not right..."
  "Damn straight it ain't right," Artemis interjected.  "I've observed three-hundred cars pass
by, none of them exceeding the make year 1998.  If I didn't know any better, I'd say we were in
the late 20th century."
  "Shit..." Nate turned on the radio and fiddled with the knobs.  His favorite song blared
through the 800 bass Tweeters:
  "'Hey, you, what do you say?  Something beautiful is something free!  Hey, you, trying to
be mean, you sleep with pigs man it's hard to be clean!'"
  "Damn..." Nate whispered.
  "What?"
  "Marilyn Manson...they haven't played their stuff on the waves for over seventy-five
years..." Nate smirked somewhat.  "I'm a big fan of oldies..."
  "So we're somewhere in the late 20th century.  Great." Luc slumped back, crossing his
arms over his chest.  "What now?"
  Nate shrugged.
  "I guess we wait until the Devourer rears his ugly head again," he replied.  "In the
meantime..." he scratched at his shaggy head.  "In the meantime, I guess we have to lay low until it
comes our way again."
  "Well, I'm getting my adventure I've always wanted," the tan gargoyle muttered.
  And suddenly, his face brightened.
  "My father and mother grew up here!" He snapped his fingers.
  "No, Luc!" Nate grabbed his arm. "Haven't you ever seen 'Back to the Future'?  You
could fuck up time as we know it!"
  The young man rolled his eyes.
  "I'll lay low, don't worry.  In fact, if I can do what I'm thinking of right know, I can
explore right out in the open."
  "Listen, kid, this is the time before the acceptance of any other sentients besides humans. 
If you--"
  "I'll figure a way to get around that," Luc raised an eye ridge.  "Just trust me on that."
  And, before the mutate could stop him, Luc bolted out into the lightly snow-dusted field,
shouting over his shoulder, "I'll meet you back here in two hours!"
  Nate went to protest, but closed his mouth.
  "Just be careful, kid," he warned.
  Luc shot him a thumbs up and, climbing on top of an unoccupied gazebo, glided off into
the south.
  Nate, chewing on his lip, sank into deep thought.
  "Artemis," he then beckoned.  "I wonder if I could go...undercover..."
  "How do you mean?"
  "I was thinking using a mental blur, like I did on that bust three years ago in Little Italy."
  "As in..."
  "Psionic disguise."
  "You?  Pass as a human? HA!"
  "Funny, Arty."
  "Don't call me--"
  "I don't see why I couldn't."
  "Could you fool thirteen million people into thinking you're human?"
  Nate shrugged.  "There's only one way to find out."
  
***

  He blinked, not used to seeing the Eyrie Building without the Pyramid looming over it.
  With somewhat of a reluctant sigh, he glided down to an alleyway nearby.
  Quickly scanning the area and assuring he was in fact alone, he took a deep breath.
  Nothing to lose now.  Do or die.
  What could be the worst thing?  He passes out, takes a deep nap, some guy finds him,
either takes him to a zoo or some garg-haters club and beats the living shit out of him.
  Of course, he couldn't find an up-side right about now.
  Grounding himself, he closed his eyes and placed his hands over his face.  As he did
before when he drove the Devourer out of Nate, he reached down mentally and pulled the energy
from the earth.
  "Guise," he whispered, the Word resonating around his face, moving down his body, a
prickling sensation coursing through, an uncomfortable but not unbearable phenomenon.
  And, suddenly, he felt sick.
  Sinking to his knees, he doubled over, his forehead almost touching the damp pavement. 
His eyes screwed shut, he dry-retched behind a festering garbage can that wasn't exactly helping
much with his nausea.
  Finally, the wave passed.
  He stood shakenly and stared down at himself.
  Well, he didn't look different.  Crossing his eyes, he could still see his beak.
  "That was a waste," he grumbled, shaking his head, then cursing as dull pain throbbed his
head.
  Cautiously, he padded out to the street, staying to the shadows.
  It wasn't that busy out there.  A few cars passing, some people walking down from shops
that were just beginning to close, it must have been early in the evening.
  "Are you all right?"
  His eyes widened as he realised someone had noticed him.  A blond woman in a neat
business suit was standing right in front of him with a hint of worry to her face.
  Not fear...?  Why?
  "Just got a little sick, ma'am," he whispered, putting his hand to his forehead, still feeling
his eye ridges.  "Must have been something I ate."
  The woman nodded and went on her way.
  What the hell...?
  Guardedly, he stepped out to the street.  Half-expecting the humans to start screaming or
whatever, he glanced momentarily in his peripheral vision to notice something had changed.
  In the reflection, he appear human.
  "An illusion..." he whispered, touching his beak, though the human in the reflection's hand
stopped a few inches from his mouth.  "...fascinating."
  But why was he feeling so sick?  Hunger, maybe?  Or fatigue?  A little bit of both?
  Glancing back at the reflection once more, he finally decided to move on.
  Who knew?  Maybe he would be able to meet his father.

***

  "Da, I still don't know what the point is," the young woman in the passenger side of the
BMW grumbled, pulling her parka tighter around her.  "I mean, I can't exactly just walk into
Macy's and start trying on outfits."
  The driver she was talking to snorted lightly.
  "Seriously, Da," she continued, "you don't have to worry about me this Christmas.  I'm
not necessarily on a shortage of clothes, and after what happened to Metallica, you don't have to
bother with music."
  "Aye, but Christmas isn't Christmas without giving something, Arin."
  "You gave me enough already," she smirked.  "I've become a spoiled little rich kid."
  "I wouldn't say you were--"
  "Da?"  She eyed at her father's face.  Lennox MacDuff's gaze was locked on a young man
walking up the sidewalk in the opposite direction they were heading.  "What is it?"
  MacDuff shook his head and brought his attention onto his driving.
  "For a moment," he whispered, "I thought I saw my son."
  Arin raised a prominent eye ridge.
  The rest of the trip they remained silent, though Arin had a feeling she was going to hear a
story from her father about his past.
  But not now.

***
THUS BEGINS THE SAGA OF "FROM DARKNESS COMETH"...Whee...that was fun!  I'm
having so much FUN with this story!  Anyway, next up on the agenda...*Eddie rustles a couple of
papers on a clipboard, giving the appearance she is actually working*...Nate pulls a Jason
Canmore, Luc impersonates his namesake, and Brooklyn is going to get an unpleasant surprise
from the deadbeat daddy...hmmm...what else...?  Oh, yes, insanity, betrayal, the Black
Sword...*also a quick recap of what is supposed to have happened with Mercedes
fanfic...growl...* and more!  More action-packed than James Hetfield thrown into a mosh-pit full
of "Master of Puppets" fanatics!

--Black Blade "My Cosmic Song Goes On For Eternity"

Songs:

"Beautiful People" is by Marilyn Manson, from Antichrist Superstar.