The darkness and the false light had come for him, but they couldn't change anything. Paul had pushed the button before they even got down there.

It took everything he had, but he managed to stand up, and he did it without using a halo. His back felt better-or at least numb. They'd given him painkillers, and they'd bandaged up his wound, too. The remaining scientists were actually looking at him with respect. In fact, now that he thought about it, the soldiers had looked at him that way, as well. It was a nice change of pace. He was using to being viewed as a guinea pig, a pitiful patient, or a freak. But Paul knew the secret history, the stuff that had been erased. Because of that, the General's people trusted him, and it had made this a lot easier.

There was a battle going on all around him, but he wasn't afraid. He was Halo Knight. Paul Battaglia had been terrified for years, waiting for his mystery illness/mutant powers to kill him...the space program scientists had helped him get his powers under control, but he'd still wondered if something would go wrong with them, causing him to suddenly die. And yet, from the moment that he'd decided to save humanity by ending the world, that fear had been completely gone. Dying was the plan, now. And, as long as he played his role, everything would work out just fine.

Paul saw the darkness tearing through the General's men. Above, the false light was flying back and forth and picking off soldiers. Below them, the generator was glowing brighter every second, and it seemed to be getting louder, as well. The floor was doing some earthquake-level vibrating. Paul created a halo and hovered into the air; he still felt something shaking. He was fuzzy from the blood loss and the painkillers they'd given him, but he could tell that it wasn't his body shaking-no, it was something else.

You're the light, or at least the 'replacement' light, and you just did the thing that will kill the darkness. It's over, and the universe knows it. Your powers are helping you to sense the gravitational disturbance or something.

Even if they killed him, the atomic generator would still overload and explode, and the darkness would be taken out in the blast. The General's scientists had told him not to worry. If the darkness decided to cut his losses and run, he'd never get out of range in time. After they'd told him that, some of the scientists had ordered the soldiers to kill them-the ones that might have been capable of reversing what was done to the generator. They were truly committed to the General, and they wanted to make sure that his rival, the Void, was eliminated.

Don't take any chances, Paul. This is too important. The darkness is capable of anything, and the generator is right where he can mess with it. You need to be Halo Knight one last time. Help the General's men keep the two of them occupied, so they don't have time to do anything with the generator.

His head was swimming, but he flew toward the darkness, firing halos at him. His first few shots were way off. Paul tried to blink himself awake, focused, and shot some more. This time, he was closer...but the General's soldiers were in the way, and they got hit, instead. The darkness had darted behind them. Then, something green and glowing crashed into Paul's right arm, and it caused him to let go of the halo. He plummeted and landed on some soldiers.

Apparently, the spacesuit had been made to withstand extreme temperatures, because the beam didn't burn him. Not his body, anyway. The right sleeve of his spacesuit was charred, but, underneath the silvery fabric, the padding felt relatively cool. The heat had made it a little deformed, though. He could feel how bumpy it was. A normal substance would have overheated, turned to liquid, and melted, but his padding just got a little misshapen.

Paul had roughly three seconds to think about that. Then, more green beams came raining down on him, and he curled up defensively and formed a halo, yanking himself away. He flew above the battle. Angel chased him through the air, firing two blasters at the same time. It reminded Paul of the outlaws in cowboy movies. Paul shot back, and while his aim was improving, Angel was more agile in the air. Also, he discovered that it was harder to aim when someone else was shooting at you. Angel had fired at him before...but, until that point, it had just been with those little guns he carried with him, which only had a few shots in them. The false light was really unloading on him, now. Paul felt beams brush his legs and his torso.

Some of the soldiers must have fired at Angel and missed, because there was a hole in the ceiling. It was about five feet in diameter, jagged, and its edges were charred black. Paul flew through it, escaping from a flurry of green beams. Angel was right behind him. Paul zipped down a metal corridor, went around a corner, turned, and fired.

Angel wasn't there.

Paul floated in the air and spun around, making sure that he wasn't sneaking up on him. He held his breath, waited, got ready to shoot halos...and nothing happened. The corridors around him were quiet and empty.

You're wasting your time up here, Paul. The darkness is the one you have to worry about. He's right on top of the generator, and god only knows what powers he has. Get back down there an-

It wasn't fear that struck him, but uncertainty. Doubt. It was a deep, powerful sensation, and it made him shudder. Paul suddenly realized that the false light didn't "fit." The light and the darkness had jobs-roles-but what was the false light here to do? What was he up to?

If he isn't fighting you, maybe he's taking a look around, instead. You have no idea what else is in this base...there might be something he could use to screw up the generator.

Paul immediately took off flying, racing through metal corridors. As he searched that level, he wracked his brain, recalling everything he could about the false light. That was the last loose end he had to deal with. The darkness was dangerous, but everyone knew what the darkness wanted. The false light, on the other hand, was a complete mystery. Paul didn't like that. It was almost over, humanity was almost safe, there was just this one unknown factor still running around.

You need to figure this out, and you need to do it now. You always knew that Daredevil was the darkness. But, at first, you thought that Angel was the light. Then you thought that you'd been the light all along. But it was actually the Sentry, and you're just his replacement. You can't afford to be wrong again-especially not now. If you know what his role in this is, you can stop him.

Paul continued searching the level above the generator. For the most part, it was just a bunch of weirdly-shaped corridors and small rooms. But, eventually, he flew into what looked like a movie set, or a few of them put together. It was crazy. Also, there were half a dozen wounded and unconscious soldiers on the floor, along with little pieces of machinery. It didn't make sense. The noise from the generator was muffled, up here, so he should have heard them being attacked. Paul gave the movie sets a once-over and then left them behind, flying down a new corridor.

The painkillers were keeping his body from aching, but he was stiff all over, so he could tell that he wasn't in good shape. Not that it mattered. If the General's troops could keep Daredevil on his heels, all he had to do was find the false light, kill him, and then fall over. In fact, he didn't even have to kill him. Just keep him busy until the generator blew. There was a ticking clock in Paul's head, and it was giving him a sort of claustrophobia. He wasn't afraid of death-life was the real problem-but, the closer they got to the end, the more important his actions became. Significance was closing in all around him, and there was more of it every second. It made everything feel heightened. He had to stop Angel from screwing this up, or else humanity would just keep repeating the same doomed pattern over and over. Paul wouldn't get a second chance.

Then, out of nowhere, a green beam hit him right in the head...or rather, the helmet. A startled Paul let go of his halo and crashed into the floor, skidding forward. He'd been going too fast. His body kept sliding along, and he tried to flail to stop his momentum, but it didn't work. All he accomplished was spinning himself sideways. His orientation flipped from north-and-south to west-and-east, and he finally smashed into a "sharp" section of wall where the corridor diverged in a Y-shape. His side cracked against the wedge-shaped metal. Paul used a halo to pull himself to his feet, and he instinctively reached for his head. His helmet didn't feel melted or damaged at all. In fact, when he looked back, he noticed a black spot on the wall. The beam must have ricocheted right off.

Once again, Angel didn't pursue him. Paul caught a glimpse of Angel blurring through a distant corridor. Positive that he was searching for something, he chased him.

Paul flew through corridor after corridor, but they all looked the same, and he kept getting turned around. He was never sure if he'd already checked a certain part of the level. A voice in his head was screaming at him to kill the false light and get back down there, to make sure that the darkness didn't wipe out the General's men and go after the generator itself.

"We shouldn't be doing this!"

The metal surfaces made the words echo; Paul couldn't tell where it was coming from.

"This is stupid, man. Daredevil said you aren't much older than me...we should be playing baseball and fighting over girls."

"STOP TALKING TO ME!"

"No, I think I'll keep going, thanks. Want to know a secret? I know that you're a mutant-and I think I'm a mutant, too. Pretty wild, huh?"

Paul kept flying, searching for him, desperate to find him-

"We've gotta stick together, buddy. Show some solidarity."

"FALSE LIGHT, FALSE LIGHT!"

"Yeah, I know, you've got this light-versus-darkness story in your head. I hate to break it to you, but, there's no light, no darkness. Just people."

Paul came around a corner, thought he saw something move, and shot it with a halo. It turned out to be an open door-one of the few doors in this strangely-designed place. The door tore from its hinges and slammed into the ceiling.

"Look, I'm a superhero, and I want to save everybody. Including you. You need help, man. But, if you can't admit that, then I'm done playing with you. Daredevil almost had you beat on the roof, and you ran off. I almost had you beat back at the hotel, and you did the same thing. You've used up all your luck. Daredevil might not be here, but I'm more than capable of putting you down, and you know it."

"No, you aren't. I'm the light. The light wins, and that's the end of it."

Paul had figured him out. The false light had been put there to trick him-to distract him. That was his role. At the beginning of all this, when he'd first started getting the memories, Angel must have been a sort of contingency plan. If Paul realized that the original light had vanished, the darkness must have hoped that he'd think Angel was the replacement light. It would have kept him from doing anything. And now, in the final moments, he was still trying to confuse him. But Paul wasn't falling for it. In fact, now that he thought about it, maybe the false light was tricking himself, as well...