Completely unedited but I don't think anyone really cares because of how late it is....

Time has come as we all, oh,
Go down.
Yeah, but for the fall, oh, my
Do you dare to look him right in the eyes?
Cause they will run you down,
Down til the dark.
Yes, and they will run you down,
Down 'til you fall,
And they will run you down,
Down 'til you go,
Yeah, so you can't crawl no more.

-Kaleo, Way Down We Go

24

The Red Horseman glared at the man that was sitting in the back of the cart Ruin was pulling, wrapped pathetically in fabric that had been given to him as he dozed, Fury and the other two from their group resting nearby. His sister's concern over the man had not slipped by him and War was unsure how he should react.

If he was Strife, he could approach Fury as an equal; as twins, the two had a close bond and War was pretty positive that Fury would at least consider Strife's opinion. If he was Death, he could approach Fury as a role model; even when he was little, War had always known that Fury looked up to their older brother in just about every way that she possibly could. However, he was War; as the youngest, there wasn't much he could say. He either 'wouldn't understand' or be laughed at because the baby of the family was trying to hitch up the big-man pants and parade about to suggest his experienced advice upon the world. Even as an adult and a Horsemen, he was still the youngest.

He had been formally introduced to the small group after the wolf episode. While he found Anin slightly obnoxious, the dark haired man had a bright smile and could start a conversation from nothing. Carina he respected as a fellow warrior; her blue eyes contained a knowledge of fighting and, when they were introduced, she had laughed, jokingly commenting on the metal arm. Fury liked each one and War tried to give them the benefit of the doubt.

Except Zakee.

Truthfully, there was nothing wrong about the man. He was polite and respectful to everyone, including Harry who no one seemed to like. Everything about the man had an air of respect to him, something that War hadn't seen in a long time, especially when taking into consideration that Zakee was human -or was. Even with his transformation, a cross necklace somehow managed to hang from his neck; a religious man or perhaps a gift War was assuming. When speaking with Fury, his gaze never faltered from hers and he always listened to her opinion. When he conversed with War for the few minutes that they had, he had never stuttered or said anything that had caused War to raise a red flag. He laughed, smiled, and did everything that was like a normal, healthy Kingdom of Man.

However, the Red Horseman couldn't get over the fact that the man never realized that he was a damn werewolf. War had been told by Fury that he should give Zakee a break; while the man had already presented the scars across his chest that he thought had been where the wound from the attacking werewolf had came from, War couldn't understand how the man never took in the warning signs. Unlike Fury, who had occasionally crossed paths with human werewolves, War had had the pleasure of meeting quite a few. They weren't like most shifters. Most had almost hidden scents of their other half, but werewolves paraded about as a walking dog with a heavy reek of wet fur and normally a storm of raging fleas that caused them to itch constantly. As dogs, they were hardly picky with their food and would eat anything except for most vegetables. War had even seen one who carried a bone in his hand and acted like some humans did with chewing tobacco. Also, and probably the most important, werewolves could not shift on their own. By all theories possible, Zakee should not have shifted without the assistance of the full moon, let alone during the day. The man had denied the rules even if he didn't know it. And that made War nervous. It could mean several things. Perhaps Zakee was a demon and a good actor. Or perhaps the werewolf that had attacked him had been strong enough to deny any existing rules that War was aware of.

When he had cautioned his sister, she had told him that he was insane. But that didn't stop War from walking alongside Pueblo and Abbygail as he growled to himself in annoyance, Chaoseater on his back, hanging from a makeshift sheath.

"You don't like him, do you?" Abbygail spoke up.

He scrunched his nose in disgust before he realized it. Correcting his facial expression immediately, he glanced at the woman beside him. She had recovered surprisingly quick from Zakee's transformation and had responded by treating the man as if he was a child; like a fussing mother, she fixed Zakee's hair and then chided him for being so reckless. Obviously she knew the man. But from where? War didn't have the courage to ask her. Maybe he would ask Pueblo later, since the small, Hispanic (which War had never heard before, but Harry had said that Pueblo was the 'funniest looking Hispanic that he had ever laid eyes on' and Pueblo hadn't corrected him) seemed to know Zakee as well. Did everyone but War know the werewolf?

"I have not decided if he is a danger or not," War spoke truthfully, trying to ignore the snort that came from Pueblo. "How does he not realize that he is a werewolf? That does not make any sense."

"Hey, I don't like it either, mi amigo. I spent my years shooting anything that did anything remotely close to what a werewolf does. Friend or not, no soy miedo de un demonio," Pueblo muttered. His hands nervously skittered over the several exposed knives across his belt. It occurred to War that Pueblo had also decided to take the cautious route.

Abbygail made a show of rolling her eyes, gesturing to the group resting in the cart. "Guys, Zakee won't do anything like that. Pueblo, you should know better than assume that he would just one day -werewolf or not- just go around and start killing things." She placed a hand on War's arm. It was just a fleeting moment where her surprisingly cold fingers rested against his skin for a breath of an second before disappearing. "Besides, we don't want to start something right here like this."

"I will not start something without a cause."

The woman pursed her lips, as if to stop herself from speaking, and turned her face away, her eyes flickering over the darkening grassland. "You say that now, but do you really mean it?"

"I am the Red Horseman. Out of all my brothers, I comply the most with honor. Am I correct in assuming that my honor is the same concept as what a Sri Moi's view may be?" he responded, annoyed. Managing to look at her, he caught just in time the small smile that flashed across her features before her gaze met his irritated one, causing a frown to replace her light-hearted expression.

"I haven't changed that much since the death of my species or my devotion to this planet, Horseman. My honor has remained intact my entire life." Abbygail tilted her chin back, trying to appear more impressive. "Can you say the same, Nephilim?"

Could he? Her question caught him off guard and he stared at her for a moment, attempting to decipher if she was asking an rhetorical question or not. The glint in her brown eyes, sparking in their dark depths, claimed otherwise. She truly wanted to know. Was he honorable, though? Even though he had made the right decision by following his brothers in the murder of his kind, had he truly been morally right? Had he been honorable? Honor was something that he took with pride; to become what he was today, had he taken the honorable route?

His gaze flickered back to the woman. He tried to take everything in about her; maybe she would give away her secret. Nothing about her was intimidating or scary overall, not with her messy black braid, her large brown eyes, her short height, and her round face with her small nose. She laughed too much, smiled easily, picked and teased as if she had always knew something that the other person didn't. He couldn't decide if it was fair or not. Personally, he knew nothing about the Sri Moi to know if she was normal in their society, but something told him that, even when the others were alive, she was an oddball. Sera wasn't anything like her. Abbygail had a harsh shell about her for protection that was full of secrets just like Sera, however hers was less spiky, less noticeable. It was hidden underneath her smiles, her giggles, her playfulness. But how could she be more honorable than him when he had spent a lifetime perfecting an honorable lifestyle?

She caught his staring and suddenly laughed, taking a loose bang and twirling it between her fingers. "What's wrong, Horseman? Reconsidering your life at the moment?"

"Who wouldn't with that look? Esto es como mirar la demostración más triste del romance," Pueblo snickered. War shot a glare at him; what he would give to understand the language that the Hispanic was speaking. By the smirk that had spread across his face, he obviously knew that War at least didn't know what he was saying.

Laughing, Abbygail smacked his shoulder. "Shut up, gordo maldito!"

"Ah, mi hermosa dama, you lift me with the happiness of your wonderful, encouraging comments!"

Rolling his eyes, War turned his attention away from the two. He was about to interrupt their conversation, purposely attempting to switch it back to a language that he could understand, when the creaking of the wagon stopped. His gaze flickered up to his stallion curiously. Ruin, head lifted high and his ears erect, had abruptly halted. War's pace picked up, recognizing the signs that Ruin gave when he noticed something, and, beside him in mid-sentence, Abbygail also froze. Anin's voice, loud and confused, sounded from ahead and War just heard the Guardian whisper "orcs" before the ground exploded.

Explode didn't seem to be the right word. The ground underneath War's feet collapsed, causing him to fall hard against something rough, warm, and moving. He had about three seconds to comprehend that he had fallen into at least a seven foot hole, was staring into a roaring, green-colored humanoid figure that had a hand gripping his throat, and that there was no way he could reach Chaoseater before he died. Gurgling as the creature began to crush his throat, War instinctively flung out a hand. It caught the creature in its jutting jaw; as it jerked back in pain and shock, its grip loosened  just enough and the Horseman took a strangled breath, adrenaline racing through his veins now that he could breathe. His heart pounded in his ears as the creature began turning back to him, its black eyes narrowing as the piercing in its nose twitched as its large nostrils flared in anger. Slamming his fists against the inside of the creature's elbows, its hands released War's throat in shock. Before the creature could recover, War snatched the beast's head, ignoring the speckles of dry drool plastered across its face and the yellow paint that smeared against his fingers, and twisted its neck in one quick, solid motion. It fell limply, falling to the ground as the Horseman let the creature slip from his fingers.

War paused, catching his breath as he gingerly rubbed his throat. Dirt sprinkled in over his head; glancing up, he watched as someone leapt over his hole, screaming a battlecry. The others would need his help. He failed the first time that he tried to get out, slipping down the sides of the wall as pieces of brown clay drizzled over him. Cracking his knuckles in frustration, he crouched before he leapt up, this time managing to get a hold of a root above him. Turning his arms into a better position, the Horseman's head was just past the ground when something seized him.

A yelp escaped him as he was lifted from the hole like nothing. He barked out in pain as his foot caught the top: almost instantly he was thrown back to Earth, flinging his body haphazardly against the grass as the claws that had held his shoulders were released. The Horseman jumped to his feet immediately when he heard approaching feet, drawing Chaoseater as a similar creature as earlier appeared.

Standing before him was an Orc. He personally hadn't seen them in a long time, and he hadn't ever thought that he would have to face one again either. This particular one was much larger than the one that had burst from the ground; its neck was nonexistent and its muscles bulged against its orange-hued skin. What armor it had reminded War of Death's with its fur skirt and belt strapped across its shoulders, only containing hide in its protection. It growled at him as it sprung forward, brandishing a rusted axe as its weapon. In response to its attack, War lifted Choaseater in a block.

But never got a chance to use it.

A shrill, high-pitched shriek of a bird sounded on his left and, seconds later as the Orc was in midair to attack him and he had Choaseater ready to block its attack, a black shadow crashed into the Orc. Black feathers littered the sky and War had to duck as a wing, much larger than he thought, almost struck him as the griffin lifted off the ground once more. The Orc in her clutches, Abbygail shrieked before she closed her beak about the Orc's shoulder. The beast roared in pain as the griffin yanked once to the side; holding its bleeding arm in her mouth almost like a prize, the griffin released the shocked Orc, flapping her powerful wings to send her soaring away. With a thump the wounded Orc landed near War. Slinging Chaosester into a better grip, the Horseman curled his nose as he sank Chaosester between the shoulders of the beast until he felt the ground.

Abbygail was attacking another Orc by the time he had pulled free his weapon. With one swipe of her paw she had sent the body of an Orc flying through the air, its black blood leaving little trails from its wound as its body was flung and landed somewhere in the sea of grass. Their eyes locked when she whipped around, snapping open her black wings to leap into the air with a flap that sent a blast of wind around her. Her head jerked to the side as, once again, she darted to the side.

"War! Get your ass over here!" Fury's voice caused him to turn, slight panic in her voice. One look caused him to sprint.

Truthfully, there wasn't that many Orcs. It appeared to almost be about the size of a border patrol; War had killed two, five bodies were strewn about, bloodied or viciously ripped apart with massive claw marks, and only six more remained where the cart was. Make that just five Orcs, War thought smugly as he watched Pueblo fling a hand out, body tense, and throw a knife, hitting his target right between the eyes. The next Orc was too close for him to chuck a knife and, without hesitation, pulled free the machete that War had forgotten about, blocking the blow with a smirk. The only others fighting were Carina who was currently battling two Orcs with two blazing scythes and perfect technique between the slow-moving beasts, and Anin who was using his spear to smack away the last two Orcs whenever they approached the cart, barking out threats and warnings whenever they got too close. Fury was in the front of the cart, gripping Ruin's reins as the Clydesdale panicked, and Zakee had found the food supply; with a shout, he pulled back his arm and threw an apple at one of the closer Orcs -Anin twirled his spear once before smacking it against the Orc struggling to get the splattered fruit off his face.

Taking a step forward to join the fight, War paused when he suddenly noticed that there was something wrong with the sky. He lifted his gaze curiously; before the Orcs, the dusk had been dotted with glistening white stars that blazed in the darkening sky of maroons, reds, and orange. Now there were no stars. Confused, War glanced behind him, his curiosity rising when he saw that the stars behind him were bright orbs in the sky. But then he noticed something else.

A hum.

It dawned on him what was coming almost the second that the Guardian griffin slammed into the two Orcs that Pueblo was fighting, tossing their bodies into the two Orcs battling Anin just as Carina sliced open one's abdomen, beheading the other at the same time. Seconds later, Abbygail landed next to the cart, black feathers drifting about her as she rose to her feet from her crouched position. Her face was full of fear as she slung her hand in the direction that War had noticed that had become different. "Bezzelbub!" she exclaimed.

A strike of fear shot through War. Bezzelbub, here of all places? That was not good. Where there was Bezzelbub, there was at least one more of the Demon Lords; while one of the strongest, his lacking of communication normally caused another Lord to follow somewhere behind. Pueblo was standing where he had stopped, gazing at Abbygail in confusion; when War reached him, he seized the back of the man's coat, hauling him to Ruin's cart before slinging the choking Hispanic in the back where Fury helped him sit up. Carina was in mid-conversation with Abbygail when he did the same to her. She yelled as he slung her in the cart, not caring if he hurt her, and smacked Soren in along with her when he swept down to attack him. When he reached out for Abbygail, she danced away.

"We need to leave, now," he snarled in frustration when she ducked underneath his grasp once again.

"You leave."

With a growl, War dove at her. A sharp, forceful pain flickered through the side of his face a second later, causing him to stumble away in surprise. He looked at the Guardian in bewilderment as he briefly touched his smarting cheek. She was grumbling under her breath, shaking out her right hand, and straightened herself with her eyes narrowed in anger after a moment.

"I am going to distract the Demon Lord while y'all run away. Have Pueblo direct you to his city. Everyone should be safe there and, besides, Bezzelbub and I are old friends." She gave him a small smile before turning her back on him, bending down like she was about to jump.

Fear and panic unlike War had felt before suddenly shot through the Red Horseman so strongly that he not only felt a bubble of air in his throat but also a paralysis that caused him to stare for a moment. It wasn't until she had shifted again, twisting into a gorgeous beast of black feathers as her wings opened wide, that he could move again. He managed to remain on his feet when she flapped her wings to lift off the ground despite the blast air that stung his eyes with its power. Her tail waves in front of him; without really considering the fact that she would probably freak out if he did it, he snatched the soft feathers puffing out at the end of the appendage, leaning back onto his heels and attempting to pull her back in. His body tensed, half expecting to have his head sliced off.

At least her reaction was immediate and nonviolent. Feathers bristling about the top of her head, the griffin's head whipped around to look at him, golden eyes wide. When she recognized him, the dangerous light in their depths softened, her body twisting to face him as she shifted back into her human form. From holding her tail, he found her foot resting in his palms and he refused to let go even as she landed with a grunt as she hit the ground. Even despite the situation, she gave a short, nervous laugh.

"Having trouble letting go, huh?" She tried to pull her foot away and his grip tightened. Her eyes narrowed. "War, let me go."

Let me go. The words echoed through his head on a constant repeat, matching her tone and the anger that laced through her voice. His eyes locked with hers as he jerked her up onto her feet, watching the surprise that flickered through their brown depths as her hands grabbed his biceps to steady herself after his feat of strength. With her fingers brushing across his skin, the Horseman couldn't fathom releasing her to a certain death. It didn't matter to him that she was immortal. Just the fact of leaving her.... He growled and pulled her close to him by her forearms, leaning down to her height to make sure that she could hear him. She hardly moved, but she pursed her lips, furrowing her eyebrows as a glare fixated him so strongly that it almost caused him to pause.

"I let you go, and you get hurt. You get tortured by a damn Demon Lord as I run away with the others for you to fend for yourself. I will not tolerate leaving you."

"You think that I'm not strong enough to handle myself?"

"And you will not twist this to make me look like a bad guy," War grunted, tightening his grip for a second before realizing just how close he was to the Guardian. If he moved even an inch forward, his nose would hit hers. "I am trying to protect you."

Her eyes narrowed, nose scrunching in anger. War felt a pressure hit his chest; he glanced down to see her hands striking his chest with every word she said. "I am a Guardian. I. Do. Not. Need. To. Be. Protected. I do the stupid ass protecting around her, not the other way around."

"You can't compete against a Demon Lord by yourself and expect to win."

His focus shifted a little when her hands wrapped themselves around the straps of his overalls, pulling him closer against her. She was growling. "I don't need to win. All I need to do is distract the bastard." Leaning in close, a smile grew across her lips, a dangerous glint that War had yet to see flaring in her eyes. "And you're staying here." Before he could reject she verbally, Abbygail placed a finger across his mouth, her smile only growing larger when his eyes narrowed in frustration. "No disagreeing with me. You are a Horseman. Without me to protect the others, they need someone else to watch over them, War. I'll do the dirty work. How much can a little chaos and destruction hurt someone, huh?"

"You have never fought against Bezzelbub, have you? He knows everything." War pried her hands from him, watching the confusion and then the surprise that grew on her face when he pushed her back a few steps, towering over her. "What makes you nervous, Abbygail? What are you scare of? What makes you cringe? What causes even a small teardrop of doubt to enter your soul? He knows it all. You cannot hide it from him! He will destroy you!"

"Then you doubt me!" she barked once she had recovered, anger causing a scowl to grow across her face and scrunch her nose. Swinging an arm toward the approaching mass of humming beetles, she glared at him as she exclaimed, "I'm stronger than I look, dammit! You know how much chaos has been in my life? Bezzelbub is that in form; now I finally have a face to beat and bitchslap! I'm not scared of him!"

"I know that!"

"Then what the hell is your problem?! Just let me do it!" she roared, eyes beginning to sparkle with gold. "What are you scared of, huh? Is everything that you thought that was going to happen falling apart?"

War, finally more anger than he could remember being in a long time, gestured toward the cart that held the others, signaling for Ruin to leave. The Clydesdale was happy for the excuse; without waiting any longer, he turned and began to gallop away, scaring everyone in the back. Abbygail yelled before whipping her head toward him.

"What the hell, War? What the f-!"

And then the beetles finally arrived.

They struck him like little lightening bolts, slamming into his large body and zapping him with their force. Completely defenseless, War lifted his arms, protecting his face, and turned his back to them as he dropped low to the ground. Abbygail's safety suddenly flickered through his mind and he raised an arm to glance about for her shadow. All he could focus on were the darting insects, their wings quick flashes of silver. Fear arose in his chest.

Almost immediately he began seeing shapes running through the beetles. He realized his mistake. While none of the shadows were recognizable, he could almost feel the blazing souls of the Nephilim racing by him, their weapons raced as the beetles' hum became their battlecries. It wasn't until something large enough to knock him forward to lose his balance struck him that he began to move, sloppily running alongside of his battle-ready brethren like he had so long ago. Running blindly through the beetles, he felt the hairs raise on the back of his neck; drawing Chaoseater, he turned around mid step, slicing thought the stomach of an eerily similar Absalom. As the body fell apart, gaping black mouth bursting into shimmering beetles, War knew that he had to get out of there.

Swinging Chaosester blindly, he watched as another Nephilim crumbled by his weapon. Panic and remorse bubbled into his throat, his heart thundering in his chest, and he slowed, calling out to Abbygail. She had to be near. She had to be. There was no way-

A bird shriek answered his call, the ground exploding besides him as a black griffin crashed into the ground beside him as a feathery mess. Her golden eyes were like a beacon through the ugly colors of the beetles and he stumbled toward her, grasping her wing when she offered it him. He wondered briefly if she could see what he could of the racing Nephlim still running around them.

His train of thought was stopped short when she jerked them both up into the air, somehow flipping him to somehow land on her back. They climbed up high, his hands gripping her black feathers for all the life that he was worth, until they burst from the beetles, sending the insects scattering as they struggled to keep them contained inside of their clutches. Darkness surrounded them, almost to where he couldn't see the griffin he was on, and he released a breath of air he didn't realize he was holding.

Well that was quiet an adventure-

Whatever the Guardian was going to say was completely lost as they were slammed into by a massive wing. War screamed as he was slung from her back. He spun, just catching sight of a huge beast as a deep laugh echoed about the air, and struggled to find the griffin. It wasn't soon before the height of the fall knocked him clean out, but not before he recognized the laughing voice.

Legion.