You alone will rule all

While the world around you crumbles and falls

Your power and strength will have no foe

But the demon will take you, and you will know

As you watch yourself twist and change

And the world around you finds you strange

Too late will they find that you need to die

For it will be then when they burn and fry.

Number 36 awoke with a terrified cry. It was the first time a dream had affected him in such a way and he remained sitting up in his bed for a few seconds taking in deep breaths as he felt the cold sweat trickle down his forehead.

It wasn't long that he sat in the darkness that he realized that his scream should have woken up 72. He was always a light sleeper. He looked over to 72's bed and wasn't surprised to see that he was not sleeping there. 36 looked around the small room but, still unsurprising, there was no 72.

With a sigh, 36 lay back down in bed. Maybe his friend stepped out to use the bathroom...Although there was a small bathroom connected to their bedroom...and he wasn't in it.

He wouldn't choose this night of all nights to stay up late, even if he was so sure he was not going to be chosen. What if he left? Number 36's heart began to race. He wouldn't leave without saying good-bye, would he? No, they were too close. He couldn't do that. He just couldn't.

So, Number 36 continued to lay there. But, as the minutes dragged on, he began to feel the sense of dread sink lower and lower. After almost thirty minutes of waiting, 36 couldn't take it anymore. Rising from his cot, he began slipping on his black and gray combat clothes. They were a bit tight, but Mistress always insisted they weren't like superhero's spandex.

Number 36 had just fitted on his boots when he heard the crack of a whip, and a horrid scream follow soon after. It was faint. So faint he was sure it was only because of his unnatural ears that he heard. 36 felt a chill run down his spine. The yell was definitely male.

"Number 72!" he shouted, running through the doorway. He ran through all the hallways, all of the expansive rooms, calling out his friends name and doing his best to keep the shout in his head. Where it had come from. How in pain it sounded.

After running for a few minutes, 36 was starting to believe he lost the sound until a faint noise began calling in his ears. He immediately stopped moving, doing his best to focus on the noise through his heavy breathing. The deeper he concentrated, the louder the noise seemed to get. He pushed back his breathing, the creaking noises of the old warehouse, and in that almost silence he could hear the sounds of soft moaning.

Number 36 looked to where the noise was coming from and saw a single door was standing in his way. Immediately, he knew where he was. His searching had taken him to almost the very top of the warehouse. He found himself standing before the door that would take him the rest of the way. The door leading to the roof.

With a single deep breath, 36 ran through the door. Standing on the roof, heavy wind screaming in his ears, blinding darkness assaulting his eyes, he could no longer hear the moaning, or see the person calling out.

"72!" Number 36 screamed against the wind. "Number 72, are you out here?!"

At first, there was no reply. As 36 stared into the darkness, only the howling wind answered his call. With another calming breath, Number 36 began walking through the darkness. He didn't want 72 to be here. He didn't want him to be here and in pain. He couldn't be here. He just couldn't.

"Number 72!" 36 called into the growing storm. He was growing desperate. He couldn't keep searching through pitch darkness on top of a building, but if 72 was up here...

"Please! 72! Are you here?!"

Still no answer, just the wind and the storm.

"NUMBER 72!" the boy shouted louder than he ever shouted before. He felt his throat strain with the effort.

He shut his eyes and clenched his fists in frustration. He was about to turn around. He was about to find his way back inside and keep searching the rest of the building. But, as he had his eyes closed, all of the noises of the storm slowly began to fade away.

First the thunder...Then the howling wind...Then the light sounds of the rain...and, finally...

"Number 36..."

It was a moan, a plea of help, so soft and so weak 36 had almost missed it. The boy ran as soon as his eyes flashed open, rain beginning to pelt his face. As his eyes finally started to adjust more to the night, he saw a dark shape lying on the ground, growing ever closer as he ran towards it.

"Number 72!" 36 exclaimed as he fell to the ground beside his fallen friend. Number 72 was shirtless as he lay in the rain and, as 36 touched his back, he could feel a number of cuts etched deep and bleeding into him.

"Took you... long enough," 72 said and, although his voice was full of pain, there was also a hint of an amused smile.

"Who did this to you?" Number 36 asked, his voice growing shaky. His eyes began to hurt to keep back the sudden tears. "Who?!"

"The...Mistress..."

All at once, the entire world seemed to turn off. The coldness of the storm was nothing compared to the sinking feeling that dropped deep down inside of him.

"No...No! You're confused, 72. It couldn't have been...It couldn't have been the...the..."

"Mistress?" a sweet and sultry voice asked.

Before 36 could turn around, a tight and constraining force wrapped its way painfully around his neck and pulled him into the air. Number 36 let out a painful gasp as he was slammed back down.

"Oh, Number 36, why did you have to be a little hero?" the sweet voice continued as Number 36 gripped the whip tied around his throat, trying fruitlessly to pull it off. "You should not be here. This is between 72 and myself."

"Why, Mistress?" Number 36 asked the tall shadowed figure that held the whip, his voice pleading, desperate. "Why are you doing this to 72? What did he do?"

"Simple. He tried to escape me. He tried to escape his fate."

Number 36 looked from the shadowed figure holding the whip to the other figure lying on the ground.

"She's right, 36. I did try to run away."

"But..." 36 chocked against the words fighting against the whip."You didn't...You didn't even say good-bye..."

To his surprise, Number 72 laughed a genuine laugh. It never felt more out of place.

"I'm sorry, 36, that was just the last thing I expected. I didn't know you cared." Number 72 then let out a sad sigh and 36 knew he was now looking at him through the darkness. "Earlier today, when I teleported from the roof, I didn't teleport to a different roof...I...I teleported to Number 26."

Number 36's throat seemed to dry up almost instantly. He didn't even feel the burn of the whip around his neck anymore. 72 went to see 26? So, why did he sound so sad?

"Number 72—"

"She didn't wait for me," Number 72 said, his voice suddenly wracked with tears and misery. "I went to where she was. It was a party at some other warehouse. I saw her there. She was with some guy in stupid colorful spandex. She was with a hero!"

Impossibly, Number 36 felt his throat close even tighter. His heart ached for his friend and, for the first time in his life, he felt the cold tears trickle down his face.

"I waited so long for her," 72 went on, a new, bitter laugh escaping from between his lips. "I— We went through so much to prove her wrong, so that she could see that we were worth something...that I was worth something..."

"72...Please..." 36 said through a chocked sob. He didn't know what to say to his only friend. His grief was over whelming.

"...but it's too late," Number 72 said with a tone of finality. "26 forgot about us. Forgot about me. And, now...Now I've lost everything."

"Regrettably, you are correct," the Mistress cut in, and suddenly the burning vanished as the whip released itself from 36's neck. But Number 36 simply sat there in the rain, consumed by his own grief. He only barely flinched when something dropped to the ground beside him.

"You are the winner. The sole winner, Number 36," the Mistress said evenly. Number 36 could feel her presence as she stood beside him in the dark. "Now wear your mantle and finish your final test."

In a half-hearted movement, 36 reached out to his side and almost immediately felt the familiar, yet strangely warm and dry, fabric that rested on the ground beside him. Confused, Number 36 looked up to where he believed his master's face was.

"Mistress...?"

"Number 72 tried to escape before final judgment," the Mistress stated. "He knew the rules going into this, and you both know the consequences for breaking those rules."

"So, what?" Number 72 asked, his voice growing slightly stronger in rage. "You're going to have 36 kill me like you killed all the other recruits who failed?"

Lightning struck as soon as 72 had finished speaking. In that brief flash of light, 36 could see the fury and hate in his friend's eyes as he glared at the woman who stood across from him, while the Mistress had a mixed look of shock and anger.

"...How long have you known," she asked, her tone indicating it was more of a demand than a request.

"As long as 26 knew," Number 72 shot. Realization sent a deep, cold chill down 36's spine. "That's why she was one of the first ones to fail. She was smarter and tougher than anyone in this place. Smart enough to realize what was going on...and apparently tough enough to escape from the likes of you."

"She was nothing but a mouse that scurried away the first chance she got!" the Mistress spat in a tone that was far from her usual, voluptuous voice. "She ran and left you and all the other recruits to die. A woman after my own heart, actually. But, you are right, she was too smart for her own good. Thankfully, she was kind hearted enough to leave behind two perfect, obedient recruits to do with as I please...Well, almost perfect."

Number 36 then felt a strong hand take hold of his arm and bring him up to his feet. Those same hands gripped the cape and quickly tied it around his neck, securing the buckle with a sharp snap.

"Now, Number 36, sweetie, be a dear and finish with Number 72 for me."

Number 36 stood there, in the cold and the rain, hands clenched at his sides, body shaking from more than just the wind. Lightning flashed once again and he could see his friend still laying on the ground, body beaten and bleeding, his eyes full of pain, regret, sadness, and fear.

"No."

"I'm sorry..." Mistress asked, and Number 36 could imagine her cupping a hand to her ear. "I didn't quite catch that...What did you just say to me?"

"I said..." 36's hand began to ache as it clenched even tighter. "NO!"

He then let his fist fly to where the Mistress was standing, only to have the blow connect with nothing but air.

"Ungrateful bastard!" he heard her curse from behind him, but even before he could turn around all the way he felt a powerful kick connect with his side, sending him sliding through the slick ground.

"I gave you everything!" the Mistress shouted, and Number 36 let out a cry of agony as he felt her boot ram into his stomach. "I took you away from you drunk and negligent parents. I took revenge on all those children who teased you. I took you into my home. I gave you a second chance, a chance to be something great, something bigger than yourself. And after all that...YOU...DO...NOT...TELL...ME...NO!"

Number 36 cried and coughed out blood as each kick assaulted his body. He began to see red and black fill his already dim vision. He felt inches away from oblivion when a furious cry broke through the storm and his master's accusations.

"Leave him alone you bitch!"

Number 36 heard the Mistress let out a surprised gasp as Number 72 plowed into her. He continued to hear them struggle as he slowly rose from the ground, his body throbbing with pain. He had finally managed to stand up when he heard his friend let out another howl of pain.

"72!" Number 36 shouted into the night, but all he could see was the rain. He closed his eyes and concentrated on hearing something...anything. He didn't have to wait long.

"Number 36! We're on the edge of the roof!" He heard 72 shout painfully into the storm and, instantly, 36 found them.

Number 36 gripped his cloak as he heard 72 let out a final scream as the Mistress dropped him from the roof. Time almost seemed to slow down as 36 pulled the cape around him. He felt his body disappear into blackness even colder and darker than the storm but, just as quickly, he reappeared, falling down the warehouse beside 72.

"Grab my hand!" Number 36 called as he reached for where he hoped his friend was.

"36!" He heard 72 call back in a very weak voice. The moment 36's fingers wrapped around his friend's arm he used all his strength to pull him against his body and then angled his back to hit the ground. He was really hoping his last ditch idea wouldn't kill them both.

Sure enough, instead of dying, he felt them both sail through his cape and immediately back onto the top of the roof, right where he wanted to be. Dropping his friend, Number 36 leapt into the air and reached out; hoping that choosing a person to teleport to was a good idea.

It was.

His Mistress let out a surprised yelp as he tackled into her.

"You can't hold me here!" the Mistress shrieked as she struggled against 36's weight. "I've been teleporting for years. I've been doing this since before you were born!"

"Not...a lot of good...that'll do you...without this..." 36 heard his friend call out, and even though he wasn't able to see Number 36, knew what he had gripped in his hands. For it was the same thing the Mistress seemed to lack tied around her neck.

"You sneaky little rat!" the Mistress shouted.

"Just like...you taught me...to be..." Number 72 shot back with a weak laugh.

"So, what are you going to do, huh?!" the Mistress snarled as she fought against 36's grip on her arms and legs. "What is a creepy, weirdo, low life like you going to do?"

Number 36 felt all other feelings pushed aside as contempt and anger filled him over the woman he used to love. Very slowly, he lowered his head so that he could whisper in her ear over the howling wind.

"Get closer."

Then, in a blink of an eye, his cape was suddenly draped over his Mistress's chest and without thought, without feeling, Number 36 dropped his hand through the cloak and into the woman's chest.

His master let out only a single gasp of surprise and pain as Number 36's hand tightened around her beating heart. Then, in one simple move, the student clenched his fist and his teacher's heart burst in his palm.

He slowly removed his hand as the Mistress fell still. The blood that coated his glove dripped unto his exposed cape, though the blood merely vanished as it made contact.

"Number 36..." he head his friend call and immediately 36 stood up and walked over to Number 72, though he was still unable to see him clearly through all the darkness of the storm.

"Come on..." 36 said wearily, grabbing his friend around the shoulders. "Let's get you inside."

"36...please...don't bother," 72 mumbled as 36 struggled to drag him across the roof. "I'm dying. That bitch had a knife and she got me with it. Pretty close to my heart, too."

36 stood there stunned for a moment before reaching out to his friend, only for his hand to hit the hilt of the knife.

"Ouch! Don't touch it!" Number 72 demanded.

"I'm sorry..." 36 said miserably, though it was sadness conflicted with anger. "...I wasn't pretty close to striking her heart."

Number 72 let out a laugh that was soon followed by a coughing fit and groans of pain.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said, his voice strangely happy and carefree. Number 36 couldn't help but smile sadly in return as he sat down beside his dying friend. Already, the rain seemed lighter.

'"Listen, 36, I'm not sad that I'm dying," Number 72 said, smile still in his voice. "My life may have been pathetic and miserable for the most part, but that all changed when I met you...and 26. You guys made it better. You guys made everything worth it again...And, please...if you ever see 26 again, say hey and tell her I...Tell her...Tell her I said hey, too."

Number 36 laughed softly and 72 did as well.

"I'll tell her, 72. I'll find her and tell her everything," 36 swore, tears threatening to spill from his eyes again.

"Thanks, 36...Do you think you can do me one more favor?"

"Anything, what is it?"

Number 36 felt his breath catch when he felt a gentle hand rest against the side of his face.

"Don't ever change."

Number 36 sat there with 72's hand rested against his face long after the storm had moved on, long after the sun appeared in the sky, and long after his closest and only friend passed away from this world.