Up above, the sky was clear and bright with stars. It was a new moon night that left the humid world below in deep shadows broken only by the green light of fireflies and the yellow beams of flashlights in the forest far behind Evan. He was very glad for the darkness as he sprinted through the dense foliage. Though light might have prevented some stumbling, Evan knew these woods well. He'd played in them during all seasons since he was a small boy. He was still pretty small, but at 11 years old, he was fast and agile.

A shrill howl broke through the thick, humid air, and Evan quickened his pace, following the silver feathers of Celestia, who urged him to go faster. Their destination was a cave along the riverbank. It was a place he stashed his most precious possession, one that he did not want to leave behind no matter what. Especially with Magisterium agents crawling all over the property of Clan Akkaba.

Tears threatened Evan's vision at the thought of the Clan. It was only by small miracle that he escaped the house before it burned; he had no idea if anyone else survived. He couldn't imagine anyone surviving an assault by the Brotherhood. Magisterium Security Agents were frightening enough, but the Brotherhood, in the blood red cassocks, were terrifying. They were daemonless, living only for destruction and death. The Chancellor's Assassins.

Evan hoped they were a myth. Now, he hoped that he would live through the night.

In his nightmares, Evan saw this day coming. It was always the same dream. He stood in a fire, surrounded by death, and four murderers on horseback were coming to kill him. He tried to tell Ozymandias, but the Shaman didn't believe him. He tried to tell Lady Margaret, but she told him that prophecy was not his gift. And now, both Ozymandias and Margaret were probably dead, along with the rest of Clan Akkaba.

Sometime later, Evan would feel guilty for all the times that he complained about his chores on the farm. He would be angry with himself for ignoring his adopted mother and father when they spoke to him. There would be an emptiness that was once filled with the witches of the clan and their strange ways. There was so much that he would do different if he could just go back.

These thoughts made his steps feel sluggish. Evan's heart was pounding, his limbs aching from the exertion. He knew that miles had passed, but not enough because his pursuers were still gaining. He needed to rest. He needed to hide.

"We have to keep going!" Celestia cried, swooping down to grab his shirt with her claws and tug him. "Please! We have to keep going!"

Evan stumbled on. Celestia was right, he couldn't give up. Not now. Not yet.

He reached the river, falling into the stream. He gasped at the chill, but it was just what he needed to push him onward. Evan waded across, finding the well worn path created by deer and other wild animals, which he followed with renewed vigor. The scent of the air had changed. There was a musty smell signaling his proximity to the cave and his destination.

The cave entrance was small and narrow, only big enough for Evan to barely pass through. Anyone larger than an 11 year old would have to dive into the river to get inside and hold their breath for a very long time. Celestia helped him scout the place the day the package postmarked Paris, France arrived. The device inside was very special, according to the letter from his uncle Jean-Philippe Cluster. So special that it needed to be kept hidden.

At another time, not this night, Evan would be furious that Uncle Cluster sent the device to him. He would spend time hating his uncle, but like regret, he had no time for those emotions this night. He had to focus to keep from slipping off the slimy rocks of the cave, had to keep his eyes on Celestia, who had transformed into a large firefly to light the path. He had to keep his ears tuned to the world beyond the mouth of the cave to know when to move once the device was in his possession.

Celestia landed on the box, her six legs dancing on the lid as Evan picked it up. He removed the device from the box. It was such a simple thing to be so important. It looked like a pocket watch, but had four hands and a dial of 36 symbols. Evan had studied it in the cave a few times, but never understood what the symbols meant. Still every time Evan picked it up, he felt a strange sensation in his hand that spread to his mind. Every time it felt like something was about to happen, some insight, but it never came.

This time, as soon as the metal touched his hand, Evan felt the pull. And in the dark of the cave, for just a moment, he caught a glimpse of a man in red flanked by darkness and pure light. Evan gasped, almost dropping the device.

Celestia flew up and landed on his shoulder, her light extinguishing as she returned to her owl form and whispered, "Someone's coming."

Evan went completely still, his ears straining for the slightest sound. The only thing he could hear was the trickling-drip of water inside the cave and the wind outside, along with the thick rush of blood in his ears. He focused on calming his pulse, but there was something in the air that raised the hair on the back of his neck. And for a moment, he thought he could see something moving in the cave, despite the complete darkness.

Celestia pressed herself tighter against Evan, and gasped, "Something's here."

Then there was a voice, a very faint voice that Evan felt more than heard that whispered, Go out. Go now. You only have a moment.

The hair on the back of Evan's neck rose, and Celestia's claws gripped the boy's right shoulder. Then Evan felt a hand on his left shoulder and he let out a squeak, slipping and falling against the wall. Again, he could see a vague shape in the darkness, but it was more like a reverse shadow, a being made of very, very dim light.

The being backed away, falling down into the water without a sound.

"Night ghast?" Celestia asked, her voice small and quavering.

Evan stepped towards the water, and said, "I don't know."

"You're not following it, are you?" Celestia squeaked as she transformed into a waterbug and clutched his ear.

Evan's response was to start back to the front of the cave. Celestia bit his ear, and squeaked, "Don't! We don't know…"

"It's okay," Evan said, and for some reason he felt that it really was. Whatever he saw, the voice he heard, he felt like he could trust it. Why, he couldn't explain. He just knew that the entity was friendly.

Celestia again transformed, turning into a bobcat, her hackles up and fangs bared and ready to defend her human as they reached the front of the cave. In the starlight, the being shone a little brighter, though it was hard to distinguish. It moved over the water, urging him forward, it's disembodied voice whispering, Hurry, they're coming.

Evan started towards the water, but suddenly found himself jerked up into the air by a massive fist and slammed into the ground. The air rushed out of his lungs and pain shot through his body. He could feel Celestia struggling to breathe, and the tears that he had fought back all night finally fell as she went still beside him. She wasn't dead; just unconscious.

"Gotcha, brat," the man growled as he planted a foot on Evan's back. The man howled, "Over here!"

A voice responded, "I see ya, big boy."

Evan tried to turn his head, trying to see the source of the second voice, but the foot on his back pushed down harder as the man growled, "Well, if it isn't the turncoat. Never thought I'd see the day Deadpool went soft."

"Let the kid go, Creed," the voice demanded coldly.

Creed let out a guttural growl, and leapt through the air. Evan rolled onto his side, gasping for air. His vision was clouded by oxygen deprivation, but he could still see two people fighting at the edge of the water. There were grunts and shouts, the crunch of gravel and splash of water. Evan gathered Celestia in his arms and forced himself upright, hesitating whether to run or to wait for the outcome.

Then he felt the hand on his shoulder, a firm feeling. Grounding. Without words, the ghast was telling him to stay put. Evan's heart pounded, watching the fight. There was a final groan, and the larger man fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

"You okay, kid?" the second man, Deadpool, asked as a flashlight flickered to life. Though the light was dim, Evan could clearly see the blood red cassock the man wore. Evan wanted to run, but the steady pressure of the ghast made him stay put. "My name's Wade. I was sent here by your Uncle Cluster. You're Evan, right?"

Evan nodded, and stammered out, "Y-you're one of the Brotherhood."

"Think of me as a sheep in wolf's clothing," Wade answered. He wiped the blood from his katana and slipped it into the scabbard on his hip. "Look, I don't have time to explain everything, but these guys aren't gonna stay down forever, okay? We need to keep moving."

Celestia whispered, "He's got a daemon."

Just then, a green parrot crash-landed on the ground in front of Wade, and was immediately scooped up and placed on his shoulder. Then Wade started walking and the ghast-hand on Evan's shoulder released. Though he was still scared, still hurting from the body slam, Evan followed the man called Deadpool.

In the distance, Evan could see the glow of fire at the farm, and now and then when the wind shifted, he could smell the smoke. Knowing that the smoke of the house was mingled with the bodies of the people who raised him was too much, and Evan dropped to his knees and sobbed. Celestia put her paws up on his chest, nuzzling against his tear streaked face, making small, sad mews that mingled with the boy's grief.

Wade knelt down in front of him and put a hand on Evan's shoulder, and said in a gentle tone, "I know you're hurting right now. You've been through hell, kid. I know. But we gotta keep going. Just a little farther." When the boy kept sobbing, Wade asked, "Do I need to carry you?"

Evan dashed the tears from his face, and weakly whispered, "No. I can make it."

Wade gave his shoulder a soft squeeze before helping Evan to his feet.

The two walked, how far, Evan didn't know. But eventually his feet found their way inside a small airplane. He figured it must have been what the Brotherhood arrived in, as it was only big enough to accommodate six people. Six daemonless people.

Wade placed his daemon on the control panel, and the bird walked around adjusting dials, and before long they were in the air.

"Where are we going?" Evan asked after a while.

"Your uncle made arrangements with the Stark Institute," Wade answered. "It's in New Amsterdam."

Fresh tears fell down Evan's dirty face, and he asked, "Why did this happen?"

"I don't know, kid," Wade answered solemnly. "I just know that I'm going to do everything I can to keep you safe from now on. Okay?"

"Okay," Evan said. Then he went silent, and didn't speak another word.

Wade was happy when the kid went to sleep. It had been a very long night. It had been a long day ever since his impromptu meeting with Jean-Philippe Cluster in that shitty pizza place in Brooklyn. It was greasy. The slices were too small to hold properly. The soda was flat. Anyone over 5 foot had to duck to get inside, and anyone over 6 foot couldn't stand up straight once through the door. It was a shady place, perfect for making illicit transactions and conducting business away from the eyes of the Magisterium, especially if the illicit business was with a functioning member of the Brotherhood.

It was not the kind of place Cluster liked to frequent, which was the only real appeal of the restaurant. Wade never liked the smug bastard or his cat daemon, Eva.

As they approached the table in the back, Wade said, "Lookie what the cat dragged in."

Eva hissed.

Cluster sat in the booth across from him. "It's good you could meet me on such short notice, Wade."

"It's good you have the cash for these kind of meetings, mon ami," Wade answered as he took a bite out of a stale breadstick. He broke off a piece, holding it out to his parrot daemon as he said, "You don't want to know the kind of struggle it was to leave my little love nest. You're lucky I haven't doubled my fee."

"I don't care or want to know of your love nest, Wilson." Cluster placed Eva on the table and frowned when she immediately nuzzled against Bob the parrot. The daemon had pulled out so many feathers, it was amazing the creature could fly. The only part on its body unaffected was its green and yellow head. Cluster asked, "What happened to your daemon?"

What hadn't happened, would be an easier question to answer. Wade ignored the question entirely, and said, "You're not the only reason I'm in town today, Cluster. How about you get to the point."

Cluster pulled an envelope out of his coat pocket and slid it across the table. Wade picked it up, withdrawing the picture inside of a gray-skinned boy with black lips and red eyes. Cluster explained, "His name is Evan Sabahnur, my nephew."

"I don't really see the resemblance," Wade said, dropping the picture.

Cluster continued, "I believe he is in danger, and I regret to say that I am the one who put him in danger. I sent him something, a rare device that the Magisterium would love to possess. I need you to retrieve the boy and the device, and bring them to the Stark Institute."

"What's the device?" Wade asked, eyes narrowing as he suppressed the urge to choke the Frenchman.

"It's called an alethiometer," Eva whispered to Bob's ear.

Wade frowned. "I thought those were just...toys? Shit you give kids to play with at those weird pageants they have at the winter solstice."

"Not this one," Cluster said. "I thought I was wise to hide it with Evan. I thought it would be safe. I thought I'd covered my track, but…"

"You're a fucking idiot, and failed miserably, right Pierre?" Wade tucked the photo in his pocket, and said, "Do you know why I'm here in New Amsterdam right now? I'm here waiting for the rest of my team. See, I just got an assignment from the Chancellor himself to go to Tolman's Field, Kansas, and take out a bunch of witches who supposedly kidnapped a kid with gray skin and red eyes."

Cluster nodded. "This is why I begged you to come three days ago."

"I was busy," Wade answered. He was silent a moment, his eyes flicking up to Warren, who was nodding his head in approval. Wade sighed, and looked back at Cluster. "My guardian angel says I should help you. But I'm warning you now, I can't guarantee I can save your witches."

"I don't care about them," Cluster answered. "The only thing that matters is getting Evan and the device safely to Stark Institute. Collateral damage is inconsequential."

"Collateral damage is never inconsequential, Pierre," Wade said as he slid a paper with his account information across to Cluster.

Cluster smirked as he picked up the paper. "I've always been amazed at the pricetag your conscience has."

"I wouldn't be too judgemental, Pierre," Wade said as he stood. "I'm not the one who gave a kid a target for Christmas."

Wade went directly from the restaurant to the rendezvous with the rest of the Brotherhood of Assassins, having stuffed poor Bob into one of his pouches so that the others wouldn't know that his daemon had again manifested.

It was so hard to hide his hatred of his supposed coworkers. They were all products of The World, a secret genetics project experimenting on people in possession of the X-Gene. All of them entered program for different reasons. Mystique was forced into it after murdering a high ranking member of the Magisterium. Victor Creed joined to become a better killer. Daken Akhiro wanted to surpass his famous father's skills. Wade joined because he had cancer and nothing to lose.

Or at least that's what he thought. Wade forgot about things like his sanity, his memories, and most importantly, he forgot about his daemon. And the things he did while without Bob… He didn't like to think about those days.

Now, Wade held his daemon, stroking Bob's feathers and doing his best to smooth and soothe the constantly agitated creature as Warren stepped up beside the captain's seat. Wade looked up at the angel's face. Or at least, he was pretty sure it was his face. There were four of them, always blurring into each other. He asked, "Got any words of wisdom from on high, angel?"

"The future is uncertain," Warren answered. "If you would just kill the boy, the future would be calm."

"No. Not gonna happen," Wade answered. They'd had this conversation twice already. "Like I told you, he's got the right to try to be different. He doesn't have to be like his ancestor."

"Ancestor implies he is not the same person," Warren said, frowning on all of his faces. "You will see. Someday, the future will rest on your shoulders. And you will have to answer for your actions."

Wade glared in the area where Warren's eyes should be. "I'd rather not have to answer for killing a kid."

Warren looked at Evan, who was stirring in his sleep. "He dreams now. Do you want to know what visions he sees?"

Wade didn't have a chance to answer before Warren put his fingers into Wade's head. Wade's eyes rolled back into his head, his body going limp as the vision filled his mind.

A vast sea of sand extends in all directions, as vast as an ocean and as lifeless as the moon. Though, once, not long ago there was much life in this place. There was life and blood where two armies collided. It is silent, but before there was sound. The hard crash of metal and metal, the thick wet sound of metal piercing flesh. Anguished sounds of the dying and the damned, all reaching to the sky, to their master, who stood and watched as blood covered the dunes.

He still stands in that place up high, held aloft by a massive beast with a dragons body and the mangled face of a creature found only in nightmares, with wings as black as the Hell from which it was conjured. But the master feels no fear. The beast is as much a part of him as the desert. This is the World. It is his creation, a place that bends to his will and his desires. And he desires death. He desires blood. He desires destruction, and it is given to him readily.

This place of death is ever present. There is always a battle here. There is always silence. The two exist simultaneously. Other things exist too, because the vast and endless desert is not without the towering temples made of stone, surrounded by worshippers who chant his name, En Sabah Nur!

He is their king.

He is their slave.

He is their god.

They hate him.

They love him.

They fear him.

Warren withdrew his hand, and Wade shook his head, and gasped, "You really shouldn't do that to a guy flying a plane. Not all of us have wings, angel-boy."

"Did you see?" Warren asked.

"Yeah, yeah. I saw. Kid dreams of being king. They should have named him Simba," Wade answered flippantly. "Doesn't mean he's going to do it. Just means he, uh… I don't know. But it doesn't mean he's going to be like En Sabah Nur."

"If you perceived time as I do, you would know what you should do," Warren said.

Wade smirked. "You said the future is uncertain."

"Unless the boy dies," Warren added.

"I'll take the uncertainty," Wade said.

The angel looked at Evan, then said, "I must go. I will find you in a few days."

Wade gave him the finger as the angel vanished from the plane. A moment later, Evan opened his eyes and said, "Were you talking to someone?"

"Just the voices in my head," Wade answered. "Go back to sleep, kid. We got a couple hours still."

Thankfully, Evan was too exhausted to argue.