Hyun’s mentor leads him inside the training centre. I grip Silver’s reins more tightly, annoyed to have encountered yet another detour and distraction to my already dangerous plan. I know that I am balancing precariously upon the edge of a knife, but I will not make any moves while in the presence of other humans. I may remain beyond their sigh, but Hyun is, unfortunately, very much visible.

Michael must know that Hyun yet lives, and that I have failed in carrying out my orders as commanded. He will likely send another one of his soldiers to help, despite whatever violence occurred to his previous emissary. Whomever was involved in that was swift, silent, and efficient.

I do not like this -- I do not like any of this.

Silver snorts, shaking his head and stomping his feet.

“Yes,” I reply, taking a slow measured breath, “something is very wrong.”

I turn us to face the building and grit my teeth, dragging my free hand across the seal upon my neck. It stings. Aether and ichor hang about the building, not that a human would notice. To them it would be little more than a strange smell like smoke or spice -- a tickle of the nose.

“Gabriel…” I growl, looking around for any sign of the Messenger.

There is more to this situation than I have been told, and the Messenger owes me more than answers.

“He reminds me of you...before you were…”

What could he mean that Hyun reminded him of me? And is there any possible way...that Gabriel’s slip of the tongue is in any way connected to Hyun -- connected to the Apocalypse. If nothing else, I know that it is connected to my own personal sense of disquiet; it has set alight my curiosity and doubt by leaving a singular hanging question.

Who am I?

“Death, darling.”.

“I would kill you, if I could,” I whisper, something hot bubbling up from my stomach to expand painfully within my chest, pressing hard against my ribs.

“Well that’s not--”

“Have you forgotten?” My fingers twitch desperately to punch the smirking Messenger in the face; instead I grip my scythe tighter, free hand balling into a tight fist. “Have you already managed to erase from your mind the words you let slip to me the other day?”

Have you forgotten how you have helped throw my world into ever more confusion? In the middle of the oncoming Apocalypse?

Gabriel’s smile freezes into place; I can almost see the metaphorical wall going up, the gates slamming shut. He holds his guard only a moment, however, as Silver snatches his scepter between his teeth and runs off with it. The Messenger shouts some choice words at my mount, and were I not so angry, I would have taken a pause to enjoy the moment.

“That is to ensure you do not try your usual disappearing act,” I snap.

“Overkill,” he quips back with near-equal irritation. “But--”

“Does the boy have something to do with me?” I demand. It is but one of many questions I have for him, but given the current situation, this one is the most pressing.

“Last I checked,” he hedges. “You did get orders from Mikha’el to--”

“You said he reminded you of me,” I cut him off. “Does Hyun have something to do with me?”

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Gabriel holds my gaze for a moment before sighing, putting his hands on his hips. “This is unexpected,” he shakes his head. “I’m not entirely sure what to do here.”

I say nothing. I wait until the moment the Messenger finally sets his shoulders and looks me square in the eye.

“Hyun is your successor,” he exhales with a flinch. “When he dies, so do you. Your existence now depends upon him being alive.”

I drop my scythe. I hear the sharp sound of the metal blade hitting asphalt. I hear, too, something else falling to the ground; Silver has dropped Gabriel’s sceptre, feeling my own shock as his own. I say nothing, my mind screaming so many questions at once that it sounds more like an endless, wordless cry into the dark void of uncertainty.

He dies. I die.

Death can die. Any of the Horsemen can die.

Who...who am I?

“Death…” a warm hand touches my arm. I blink at Gabriel in a daze; his usual arrogance gone, replaced instead with apologetic embarrassment. “I’m afraid I’ve got to dash.”

“What--”

“We’ll talk more so long as you manage to keep Hyun alive,” he tries to smile, though it is half-hearted, and then he vanishes.

Several beats pass. I crouch and pick up my fallen scythe, staring at it like it will provide me with answers. Once again, the Messenger has delivered but one piece of a puzzle, and left before even explaining what the entire picture is meant to be.

“GABRIEL!” I shout, and hope the winged bastard hit something at that call. I feel the earth rumble beneath me.

The Messenger does not not reappear.

“Never seen you shout like that before,” War steps out from the air, the reins of his mount in one hand.

“Why are you here, War?” I take the moment to try and swallow back my shock and keep my voice from shaking; I grip my scythe even more tightly, forcing the bones and tendons and muscles to lock into stillness.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he frowns. “But then again, you don’t tell me anything. You vanish before any of us get the chance to question what you do.”

“War--”

“Is this what the Wings came about?” he nods at the training building, eyes tracing over the splatters of aether and ichor. “You’re not here.” He turns back to narrow his eyes at me, “Besides, we don’t deal in territory disputes between the demonic and the divine -- or so you’ve told me over and over and over again.”

“I need not answer to you,” I snap, mind still racing to process what Gabriel has told me. My anger with the Messenger, my confusion with his words, and my general anxiety over the entirety of this situation breaks my composure as the youngest Horseman ramps himself up for a tirade.

“Oh no -- because I am Death and one can compare to me and my most powerful of titles!”

His mount rears and whinnies accusation; Silver stamps in response.

“Guard your tone, War, or have you already forgotten what comes of an abundance of pride and wrath?”

War bares his teeth, “You demand my respect and yet keep secrets from the rest of us -- get off your high horse, Death, and tell me what the fuck you’re doing here, and what that human kid has to do with it.”

I send Silver away, but I continue to grip my scythe as though I could crush it to powder. War’s face splits into a nasty grin and his free hand reaches back to grip the pommel of his sword. I pause immediately, exhaling a long sigh, sending away my scythe. As is what always appears to be the case with War: perhaps I have expected too much.

“I am disappointed, War,” I say. “Do you imagine me so foolish as to behave as a human? To let you stir the pot of conflict and bring yourself here?” I shake my head.

But was I once human? Was War?

Another tremor runs through the earth as War growls, mounting his steed. “If you won’t tell me, then let’s see if that human kid will.” He turns and kicks his mount into full speed.

“War!”

Curse that child. I am about to summon Silver back as a gold lightning bolt strikes down from the sky onto -- no...into the building.

Oh, God...