It took a while for the elevator to reach the top floor. War lost count of how many seconds, but time really had no bearing on any of them. Time was an artificial construct placed on the universe that really had no effect on them. One minute could feel as one hundred years, and vice versa. War shook his head, clearing his throat. He slipped his glasses back into place, and stood at the front of the elevator, reaching into the waistline of his slacks, he grasped the handles of his pistols, Strife and Despair. War brandished them, admiring their craftmenship for a moment. Famine and Pestilence took a step back, and Death stood to the side.

War smiled, letting the pleasure run through his veins, he always got this way before a conflict. War raised his eyebrow, mentally counting how many bodies were on the other side of the elevator door.

"Three with assault rifles, four with body armor...shoot the kneecaps, follow up with a round each to the head. Two with riot gear...I'll figure that out." War murmured to himself. A small ding in the elevator sounded, and the doors opened. War stepped out first, firing one round from each handgun, hitting the two farthest men in the knee, immediately he swept his right hand over his chest, firing at the third man with the assault rifle, followed up by a round to the head. War fired two round directly ahead of him, the two men in the body armor, cried out and grasped their legs, falling to the ground. War then shot the last man in the head, walking forward, and taking care of the wounded, each with a shot to the head. He paused, looking around.

"Come out." War commanded.

Immediately. the remaining men stepped out, including the men with the riot shields. War calmly took off his glasses, placing them into his jacket pocket. War looked intently at each of them. Concentrating, he sent feelings of intense rage and fear to each of them.

"If one of you survives, turn the weapon on yourself." War walked inbetween them, motioning his brothers forward. They walked through a pair of glass doors, once shut, the ring of gunfire rang out. 6 shots...a pause, then a seventh, and final shot. War smiled, letting Death take the lead. He slipped his glasses back on, holstering his weapons. The Four walked through the last pair of doors, into a meeting room. War immediately smelled the fear, it was thick and almost tangible, he could almost taste it. He swiveled his eyes over the men and women at the table, seven men, six women, all dressed in business attire.

Death started first, he glanced at a woman. "Chairs." At once, four of them stood and offered their chairs, which the Four took. A man in a tailored suit with a silk tie, immediately stood up, outraged. "What is the meaning of thi-". A shot rang out, cutting him off. The man sank back into his chair, blood dripping slowly down his face from the bullet wound between his eyes. War laid Strife on the table. "Thank you, brother." Death smiled.

"Talk out of turn and you will be shot." War said.

"Now.." Death began, "...you all know who we are. We all know who you are. You've...committed an offense...a very grave offense. Now, we will not kill all of you. All we want is information. Information on who is the de facto leader of this little group. Whoever talks first will be granted their life."

The tension grew thick, and Death could see the indecision on their faces. He glanced at War. "Talk!" War growled, startling nearly everyone in the room. War got up, taking Strife and pulling Despair out. He calmly walked around the table, pausing at intervals. "The Horsemen have very special jobs...", War smiled, "...call us the Guardians if you will. There is a certain balance that must be maintained between the kingdoms. The first Kingdom, would be Heaven and the Angels, the second Kingdom, Hell and its Demons, and the third, and final Kingdom, is you. You...pathetic excuses of a species...granted it's not your fault that Adam and Eve partook of the Apple, but when you go and do something so monumentally idiotic as to try and "engineer" the Beast, you catch our attention...and in a very negative way. You see...any Demon...or Angel that gets out of line and tips the balance in any way, shape, or form ahead of schedule, we deal with. Usually it's either a deport them back to Hell or Heaven. Other times we must take more extreme measures. And by we, I mean me. You may think of me as the enforcer. If an Angel or Demon in question is too strong to just deport back to their respective realm, then I am called, and I personally deal with them. We normally don't take such an interest in human affairs, outside of what our namesakes imply...but this sacrilege caught our attention. We have to put a stop to it, you see, because if you somehow succeed and bring about the End prematurely, it would have very bad consequences for all of us, including you. Just tell us what we want to know...and we'll be on our way, and you can return to your pathetic lives and not have to worry about any of us paying a visit to your families, or your friends."

"Trust us, you don't want to get on his badside. Last time one of you made him angry he started World War II." Famine said, leaning back in his chair.

War stopped next to a young lady of about 35, and stooped down. "Julia, right? You have three children, Kyle, 12, Cynthia,8, and Jacob, 2 and a half. Kyle plays soccer, rather good at it too. Cynthia plays the piano. Your husband, Marc, stays home and watches the children while you're at work. You really don't want me to visit them. Tell your husband that all three of your children are not biologically his, but from three different men whom you visit when you're away on "business". You don't want me to tell him that you get a kick out of lying to him, telling him that your business trip was boring when you were really whoring yourself out to other men. So, just tell me." The woman immediately started to weep, trying to get out of her seat. War forced her to sit down. "Ma'am...if you just tell us this will all be over." She nodded, and pointed to the head of the table to a man of 60. War nodded, "Thank you, Julia. Your family will be safe." He pressed Strife to the back of her skull, and fired. The others in the room yelped and three tried to run, Death said a word under his breath and instantly they dropped to the floor, dead.

"Thank you for your compliance and cooperation." Death smiled, and uttered the word again, everyone but the man at the head of the table slumped back in their chairs. War smiled, his eyes ablaze with anger. "William...what are we ever going to do with you?" The three stood up, and they in unison walked over to him, watching the fear grow in his eyes, his screams cut short as they overshadowed him.

Come and See.