A punch hadn't hurt like that since Anubis. 

The tree turns to ash as his hand lands on it, glove shredded from attempting to stop himself. Placing his palm on his stomach, it's a wonder the fist didn't go straight through him. 

"Seth?" Fenrir snarls in the back of his mind. 

"Egyptians don't smell like sulfur and he clearly said Oden. "

"We need to go. We need to get out of here. Now." The beast demands, tugging on his consciousness. 

It was tempting to run, but the man had stated that he'd been difficult to find which meant anywhere he went, he could potentially lure him. "It's our job to take care of this. I won't risk bringing this thing back home, we've got to take care of it here." Sliding the karambits of his pockets, he slowly stands from the wreckage of the trees and shrubs surrounding the crater his body had created. 

"We're going to be killed." Fenrir reminds him sharply, bringing a smirk to his lips.

"Good thing we're already dead, right?"

The gladiator approaches through the wreckage of cars, one has caught on fire, and the civilians continue to brawl in the streets as more cars whiz past. "Wow. I thought for sure that would have snapped you in half. I hit you pretty damn hard, this might actually be fun-"

The speed at which Death could move was hard to get used to. Magic had continued to remain an anomaly. It worked when his emotions were high, but it was hard to regulate and even harder to think about. His body moved without his permission, intending to slice through the man's neck, only to be shocked when the gladiator caught him by the wrist. 

Moving to punch the warlord again, Verando halted the attempt by gripping his fist, twisting it as the man hisses through his teeth at the singe of his palm against the other's skin. 

Jerking away, Verando chases after him with a slash of his blade, narrowly missing. 

"I've been told not to let you cut me. Should I be worried?" The shorter man teases, narrowly missing the attempts with the blade. Despite its flaws, the Karambit had always been the gray-haired Death's weapon of choice. It was easier to dodge a bullet than to come out of a knife fight unscathed. Gods were fast, and the speed of his reaction time had the potential to go even faster, though he found himself wishing for a longer weapon. 

A sword would be to cumbersome-

"Focus!" Fenrir snarls.

A sword flies through the air, landing squarely against his side and slicing through his clothes, but it was as if his body rejects the intrusion. 

"That's new." The gladiator chuckles. "What're you made out of?"

Verando stabs him in the neck, causing the offending man to stumble backward as the lycan retracts the blade. His hand covers the bleeding hole, coughing and sputtering on his blood for only a moment before he starts to laugh. A frown creases the warlord's lips, refusing to allow the curse to leave his lips. This was going to be a lot harder than he thought. 

"Looks like your blades don't affect me either.. but your hands do? So you'd have to touch me long enough to kill me, well come on then." The gladiator's voice was deep and low, with a hint of an accent. His eyes burned beneath his helmet like molten metal. "Come on, cat got your tongue? You don't want to talk to me?"

It was easier not to engage; he'd already dropped his focus once. Engaging in hand-to-hand with this being was surprisingly uncomfortable; the impact of the man's fist left lasting aches, and he did his best to deflect with his forearms and slice where he could. The weapons were doing their job, but it was almost as if the more he cut him, the more excited the other man got. 

"I wonder how hard you're going to be to kill." The man wonders, gripping the warlord by the forearm, attempting to twist it backward; Verando flinches and delivers multiple pointed jabs with the curved bit of the blade, yet it does little to affect the being before him. In one quick move, the gladiator nearly manages to dislodge the taller man's arm, and it's everything he can do to twist out of the gasp and deliver a kick to send him flying across the street and into a car. 

"Now can we run away?" Fenrir demands as the warlord pants, holding his arm to his side, grimacing at its numb nature. "Your damn shoulder's out of place, you're getting your ass kicked."

"Just stop talking..." Verando mutters, hooking his arm under his elbow and adjusting the limb to pop the arm back into place. His body healed quickly, like it was made to be taken apart, a new and disturbing discovery.  

"Now you speak?" He taunts, climbing out of the depths of the car, dusting his bloodied armor off as he adjusts his helmet that shockingly remained on his head. 

Catching the warlord off guard, Verando takes a half step back, "His helmet is stuck on his head..." He mutters, zeroing in on the man's bloodied hands, causing him to chuckle as he lifts his palms to show him. 

"Now you're taking notice! I wondered when you'd catch on; I forgot to introduce myself! I'm War. The other horseman. You've caused a big fuss among the gods; they're all terrified that you're going to come and ... you know.." He drags his thumb under his chin like a blade. "They figured a horseman could stop a horseman, so I figured I'd give it a try."

Another horseman? Weren't there only four?

"Great, we can do math. He can kill us, Verando." Fenrir presses harshly, making Verando press his palm to his temple with a grimace. 

"I thought you were supposed to be on my side?" Verando retorts casually, pushing Fenrir to the back of his mind where he could attempt to lock him away. "So Oden has a horseman now? There's been outbreaks of violence all over. Is that your doing?"

"Guilty." War shrugs with a chuckle. "I'll admit, this feels wrong. War and Death go hand in hand, but I made a deal with Oden that I'd kill you and.. well... I'm a man of my word. Maybe I'll get along with the next Death, if you don't play by the rules, you don't get to stay." 

Lifting his hand, the sword flies to his palm, and he wields it against Death once more. 

The book had spoken of this, that when the horsemen were brought together, it would signal the end of the world. 

Had anyone thought of this when he was created? 

He already harbored Fenrir. Was Oden trying to trigger Ragnarok? Had Oden figured out his identity? Surely not, or he would have gone straight to his home. 

A car accelerates toward him, and in a swift motion, Verando's hand lands on the hood, destroying it as it makes impact. "I don't have any desire to follow anyone's rules but my own. I didn't realize War was a puppet for Oden." Verando shoots back, only to realize that cars are now all directed at him. "So you can trigger people to madness?"

"Road rage is my favorite." War shrugs, snapping his fingers as the engines rev. "Let's see how strong you are."

____________________________________________________________

(Nic's POV)

I pause as I stare into the sink full of dishes, rubbing the back of my neck at the weight of the pendant pulling on the chain. "I should start making you carry your own heart, asshole..." I mutter, scrubbing out a bowl and putting it back before checking my phone for the twentieth time. No phone call, no text; he hadn't read my recent messages. 

Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair, trying to calm my nerves about where he could be. He'd said he had a business, but typically, I had heard from him by now. Even when he was kicked out of the house, he still told me where he was. 

Pouring myself a drink, I move to bring the glass to my lips, but as my teeth touch the rim, I remind myself what my end goal is and slam it back down with a groan of defiance. I couldn't risk drinking if I was hoping for a positive outcome from all we were putting ourselves through to put me with child. I dump it down the sink, placing the bottle back in the cabinet as I opt for a cookie instead. 

The stress of all of this had put an unwelcome fifteen pounds on my person, and I was incredibly ungrateful for such an offensive suggestion from my body. It was so unfair; I felt like I was the only lycan capable of gaining weight over muscle, though I supposed my favorite pastime wasn't necessarily exercise. 

Moving into the living room, I flopped down on the couch to scour the news for any indication Verando had decided to get himself into trouble. The kids were asleep; all I had left to do was worry and wonder, and in the back of my mind, I willed myself to get up and call him again. 

My wolf was on edge, pacing, and whimpering periodically, which caused my temple to throb. 

"We literally just had sex, I don't know why you're causing a fuss. I'm barely recovered from the savaging he put me through." I grumble, though there was no remorse in my voice, much as I was sore, I was happier than I'd been in some time. Perhaps that's why I was missing him so much, I was feeling lonely and desperately needed more aftercare.

"Tata?"

I jump at Darius's voice, quickly sitting up and clearing my throat as if he could know the thoughts I'd just been having. 

"Dare? What're you doing out of bed?"

"I don't feel so good... my tummy feels rumbly." He whines, appearing beside me to curl up against my body. To my horror, his body was scorching, burning hot to the touch. I gasp, gathering his face as I take in his color. His cheeks flush, his body covered in sweat; I quickly carry him into the kitchen, set him on the counter, and get a cool rag for his forehead. 

"Good lord, Dare, you're burning up," I whisper, getting a thermometer, which he promptly pushes away with a squeal of protest. 

"I don't feel good." He repeats, shaking his head as he reaches for me to hold him. "I want Daddy."

This again..

"Honey, he's not home yet," I whisper, rocking him quietly, picking up my phone to call the man in question. It goes straight to voicemail, and I wonder how hard it would be to kill him. "Verando Mercer, your children desperately need you. Darius isn't feeling well; I'm tempted to call Adriam, though I don't know what good that might do considering I just took his house... please.. please call me back."

This felt like the norm for us now. I called and begged him to come home, and he was usually involved with something I'd rather not know—my mind races to Seth and the attempts on his life. Tucci had said he'd protect himself at what ever means necessary, did he find a way to trap him again?

"Maybe I should just.. call... him?" The thought hangs in the forefront; whenever I call him, I risk exposing him. It was a beacon, a surge of power that others could track. 

"I don't like this." Darius sniffles, shaking his head as he grips me tighter. "My tummy feels weird.. I don't want to disappear."

Quickly, I tighten my grip on him, sitting down on the floor as if somehow that might prevent his departure. "Hey, hey, just breathe and think about staying. You're not going to disappear." Stroking his hair, I rock him quietly, grabbing my phone out of my pocket and dialing Legardo's number. 

"If this is about the house-" His voice is hard and irritated. I sigh in relief that he even answered. 

"Fuck the house, something's wrong with Darius. I need you to come over here, please, Gary; I think it's an emergency."

We're sitting in the middle of the street when I open my eyes. Cars swerve all around us; my phone dies as I quickly roll out of the way of an oncoming vehicle. Standing up, I barely manage to scramble with Darius in my arms to get behind the guard rail as the car crashes. 

Putting up an ice barrier, I hug the sobbing unicorn tighter. "Darius, you need to take us home right now!" I demand of him, flinching as something hits the shield: a man with a gladiator outfit. 

His back is dawned with a red cape; he pushes off the barrier to careen away as I shield Darius from the flying ice shards. Did we go back in time?! Surely not, because the cars were from our current time. 

The unicorn covers his ears, shaking his head. "Too loud! Too loud!" He screams, and at that moment, I see Verando across the road. His expression was unreadable under the hood, but his jaw and lips were taut as if he couldn't believe we were here, or why, for that matter. While I couldn't see any wounds, his clothes were saturated in blood and torn in various places. 

My warlord breaks into a run towards us, and the car slams into his side, sending him sailing down the street. The gladiator lands before us; I grip Darius harder, pushing magic to my fingertips as I bare my teeth animalistically. 

"Don't I know you?" War demands, pointing his sword at me, the tip inches from my face. 

"Not the slightest clue, don't you have any decency? This is a child!" I shouted back; the aura from the man was immense; this was no ordinary magic user.

"That accent..." He murmurs, gliding the blade along my cheek, I flinch as it scrapes my skin, turning my face away. "Holy shit.. Nicolas?"

I jerk my head up, narrowing my eyes at the man. "Who the hell are you?"

"War." Darius declares, "Fetch!" His voice is shrill, a shriek in the night. 

My heart pounds in my ears; the world falls silent, and War cocks his head to the side with a chuckle. "Fetch? What am I? A toy to you?"

"No, but my Daddy is going to beat you up! I told him he could." Darius sticks out his tongue, making War break out into a laugh. I grimace, thinking about Verando's impact with the car and wondering how much of him was left if this was what he'd been dealing with. 

"Oh really? Who is your Daddy?"

"Death." Darius quips. 

I hear the footsteps before I see him. The gray wolf, spattered with black, leaps over the guard rail, clearing us as he grabs War in his jaws. It's everything the man can do to try and fight him off with his sword, though the blade appears ineffective much as it slices the beast. Fenrir had gained some form of control; the arctic eyes were black as he savaged the horseman. I hadn't seen it yet; what would happen when Darius took command of what belonged to him? Verando had been gifted to Darius as a hellhound. 

It never even occurred to me that Darius would know what to do with such a power. 

I want to cover the boy's eyes, but at the same time, I want him to see exactly what this power is capable of. Just as my father had when he allowed me to witness his control over the grizzly bears he used as entertainment when I was a child. 

It was robotic, as if nothing else mattered but the mission; his body acted on its own as he gripped the man's sword between his teeth, effectively biting it in half. With the ferocity with which he attacked the man, I couldn't help but feel this was personal from Fenrir's perspective; perhaps the beast had grown fond of us. 

My chest throbbed, and my wolf fought against the mental block; this wasn't fair to my warlord. This wasn't how I ever wanted to see him. I would have to remind Darius never to use this power again, to remind him what it made his father do, that it wasn't right to control someone in such an absolute way. It was me who could no longer look, who buried my face in Darius's hair with regret. 

I loved this child, but could I love him more than Verando? Could I allow this to continue in any form?

Fenrir's jaws close over top of the man's shoulder, sinking into his chest, pinning one arm to his side as War screams in discomfort. "Ok! Ok!" He snarls, bracing against the fangs with his palm to keep them from closing shut. I feel sick, staring at the ever-darkening beast; he looked bigger... twice the size of a normal lycan. 

Fenrir was growing stronger.

"Fetch!" Darius reminds him with a giggle. "Don't eat him, Daddy!"

Appearing disappointed, the wolf carries the man to us, dropping him at our feet and placing his paw on War's back with a hard press and a low snarl.

"You tried to hurt my Daddy." Darius frowns at War, "You're a horsey-man. You shouldn't fight with my Daddy."

Glaring up at us, War scowls, coughing and sputtering from the weight. "I've got different orders, kid; what the hell is it to you?"

The lycan snarls, considering biting the man, but I quickly reach forward to stop him. "Stop! Stop, he recognized us. We know this man." I insist, much as I'd like to see him dead, much as I'd like this nightmare to be over. "He knows my name."

"Nicolas." War repeats, flinching away from the fangs just inches from his neck. "But I don't remember you having a kid..? You switch off men?"

Verando barks in response, and I can't help but look a little smug. 

War hesitates, his eyes moving back and forth between Darius and me. "That's your kid. He looks just like... Daddy?" Glancing up at Death, his lips part. "Randy...? You're Death?"