Author's Note: Here it is folks - Ch. 9. And, finally, an end to the battle. These next several chapters that I have planned will be going by slowly; they're all mostly conversations and character development, so that means you folks will be learning the backgrounds of Lazarus and Dinah. In the coming chapters, I'll also be introducing a new character.

Now let me tell you folks a little bit about how I've got this story planned out. If you look through the chapter selection menu of this story, you'll notice that an additional title has been added to chapter one: "Phase 1." Allow me to elaborate: this story will be separated into five separate phases, although the number of chapters in each is uncertain at this point in time. But if I have anything to go by, the outline of the overall plot is three pages long in my word processor, so there's going to be plenty of reading material for you folks.

Also, word of warning, but not only is there some more of my signature horrible humor in this chapter, but you can expect it in the future as well. Yes, I could go strictly serious, but, as Lazarus would say, "That would be boring, wouldn't it?" And with reading, boring can kill a reader's interest. So I'm trying to keep things interesting. And besides, so far, I've found that my horrible humor makes it easier for me to set up the story. Remember ending of ch. 7? HH development moment - if I haven't thought up that little fracas between Lazarus and Dinah, then the supercar "Predator" wouldn't have been introduced until later on.

In any case, enjoy my work as much as you can.

For a full ten minutes after War's explosion, the two humans couldn't approach the crater that had formed. It was simply too hot – they learned of this by driving Predator around the crater, and using the gun camera in FLIR (Forward Looking Infrared) mode to determine the residual heat. Not only was the crater itself extremely hot, but so was the air itself.

Eventually, as the ten minutes ticked by, the temperature of the area slowly decreased to tolerable levels, thus allowing for investigation.

Ruin came from a full on gallop slowly down to a complete stop. As Lazarus dismounted, Predator pulled up beside Ruin, also coming to a slow and steady stop – the man's boot crunched down on burned and blackened soil. He looked up at the edge of the crater, which rose at least twenty-five feet above ground level.

As Dinah closed the door to the supercar and walked up beside him, he asked "You don't think that he blew himself up, do you?"

She merely shrugged. "Well we'll just have to take a look and find out, won't we?"

"Yep. Seems so." With that, he began to start climbing up the crater's edge. However, he only managed to make several feet up the slope when Dinah called out to him.

"Lazarus, wait – come over here for a second."

Dinah was running in a different direction along the crater's slope. Then he saw what had caught her attention – a body. Immediately, he stopped climbing and ran after her; Ruin simply waited by Predator. In moments, the two reached the body and learned that it was a Phantom Guard. The demon's body was covered in burns – severity uncertain. Lazarus lowered himself to a knee next to the body, flipping it over on its back. Just in case if the demon was playing dead, Dinah drew her sidearm.

"So?" she asked. "Dead or alive?"

"Hard to tell. The dude's got burn injuries all across his body. I'm guessing that they're at least second degree. Maybe higher, maybe lower – I don't know; I'm no doctor."

Lazarus reached down for the demon's neck, feeling for a pulse. While the demon was definitely different than a human, its basic anatomy would probably be, more or less, the same. And sure enough, as Lazarus pressed two fingers to where the major blood vessels would be for an average man, he could feel a strong and steady pulse. The demon was, miraculously, alive.

Laughing slightly, Lazarus stood back up. "Yeah, he's still kicking. But he's gonna be feeling some pain when he wakes up."

"So what are we going to do with him?"

The man didn't answer right away. After several seconds of thought, he gave his answer. "Go get some rope from the car." Lazarus' intentions were clear. Wordlessly, Dinah complied. But just as she started walking away, she stopped herself cold as a small groan resounded from the unconscious demon.

A smile slowly formed on Lazarus' face. "Cancel that – looks like we'll be holding him at gunpoint." He kneeled back down, removing Mercy from its improvised place on his belt.

"Can you hear me?" he said to the demon. It groaned, as if in acknowledgement.

"Good. Now wake up."

This time, it didn't do anything.

"Come on, pal, wake up." He tapped the tip of the Guard's nose with Mercy, eliciting another groan from the demon. "I know you can hear me. I've got a gun, and if you don't open your eyes now, I'm gonna blast your damn brains out."

That certainly seized the demon's attention – it slowly opened its eyes.

"There we go. Enjoy your beauty sleep, pal?" Lazarus said with a smirk. The demon muttered something foreign that he couldn't understand – perhaps a demonic language of sorts.

"Yeah, well fuck you too. But I'm not the one who's got a gun pointing at my head. So don't piss me off."

"What do you want of me?" the Guard asked slowly.

"I'm glad you asked that," the human said, standing back up and walking several paces away.

"Stand up," commanded Lazarus, turning back around to face the demon. It didn't comply.

Sighing, Lazarus raised Mercy.

BANG!

The salvo of bullets crashed into the ground next to the Hell-spawn's head, startling it.

"Get. Up." Lazarus fired off another warning volley. This time, the demon hastily obeyed.

"Now then – keep your hands above your head." Again, the demon complied.

"What do you want from me?" the Guard asked again.

"Simple: I've got some questions for you that I want answered."

"And what makes you believe that I will answer these questions, human?"

BANG!

This time, a bullet grazed the demon's face – it flinched.

"Keep testing my patience, pal, and eventually one of these bullets will end up somewhere in your head."

Turning to Dinah, who also had her firearm leveled at their prisoner, Lazarus said "I'm going to go look for War. If he tries anything – anything at all – kill him."

Dinah offered no acknowledgement – her fierce gaze as she aimed down her weapon's sights was the only answer he needed.

And thus, Lazarus began the short climb up into the crater.

Someone was calling his name – "War. War," – but he couldn't identify the voice. Every time the voice sounded he could hear the words echo in his head, and yet, it sounded as if it was far away. Then he felt his body being moved – instantly, alarm bells began to ring as his instincts told him to assault an assumed hostile. But he couldn't bring himself to do it; he was so tired. Yes, so very tired.

Then he felt someone drape his right arm across their shoulder – he was being carried, concluded War, and not in an undignified manner. An enemy wouldn't do this. War wearily opened his eyes and took in Lazarus' form carrying him as if he was a wounded comrade on a war-torn battlefield. Then he looked down at himself – he had reverted back to his normal form.

They were heading towards the wall of the crater. Briefly, Lazarus cast a sidelong glance at War, only to do a double take.

"Hey there sleeping beauty," he said with a smirk. "'bout time you woke up. I've been verbally slapping you around for the past three minutes trying to wake you. But man, you were out like a broken light bulb. Admittedly though –"

"Lazarus," interrupted War.

"Yeah?" 'Is he gonna tell me to shut up? Might save my hide – I was just about to tell him that I actually slapped him several times to wake him up.'

"Set me down," the Horseman said weakly. Carefully, the human lowered War down onto his back. His red hood fell off in the process, allowing Lazarus his first really good look at War.

He had a full head of hair, with two separate locks of hair on both sides of his head extending down to the top of his torso. Both, his hair and his eyebrows were a snow white in color. His face had virtually no wrinkles whatsoever – the only wrinkles he had to contend with were near his mouth, which formed a slight, near perpetual frown. War blurred the line between age and youth. His complexion was pale, which reinforced the fact of his weak and tired state.

But what was most striking to the human about War's face was the large, intricate scar that adorned the Horseman's forehead. From below one of his glowing blue eyes, the scar curved upwards across the eye and eyebrow, continuing to curve across the forehead, before curving back down across, and ending symmetrically, below the other eye. A long, central scar cut directly through the center of the curving scar and ended at the top of the bridge of his nose, right between the eyebrows.

For Lazarus, this was the first time that he saw this. 'What the hell?' He stared at the bizarre scar – the Horseman's eyes were closed, so he couldn't tell what the focal point of Lazarus' attention was. However, the human's next comment gave himself away.

"Damn War, that's some fucking battle wound you got there," he said, laughing. Idly, War reached upwards with his right hand, tracing the scar with two fingers. "Is there a story behind that?"

War chose to ignore Lazarus' question and asked his own: "Chaoseater. Where is it?"

"What, you mean your sword? It's over where I found you." He glanced back behind him. A little ways away, the large sword was embedded in the ground, no longer in its transformed state.

"I'll go get it for ya."

"No!" War said hastily – his sudden energy quickly evaporated. "Lazarus, don't." Slowly, War tried to force himself to stand, only to fall back down on his back.

"Uh, sure, whatever you say Horseman – just wait a moment and rest a bit more."

Lazarus sat himself down next to War. "So, why don't you want me touching your sword? You super-possessive or territorial or something?" he asked conversationally.

"No. Chaoseater is my sword, and it has been mine for as long as I have been a Horseman in service of the Charred Council."

"Yep. Super-possessive."

"No. That is not it. The sword has been mine because it has been bound to me."

"Bound? Care to elaborate?"

War's frown seemed to deepen. "I will, but only if you stop interrupting."

"Oh. Sorry. Keep going then."

War sighed, before continuing. "The sword is bound to me – not in the physical sense – but mentally. It is because of this that only I can wield it."

"But I said that I wanted to retrieve it for you."

Again, War sighed. 'It seems that he is intent on constantly interrupting.' His frown deepened further, and his eyes opened to make visual contact with Lazarus'. "If someone, other than me, were to even touch the hilt, that is, in such a manner to attempt to wield the weapon, the sword directly assaults the mind of the individual. If the attempting wielder is weak minded and weak willed, they will die in mere seconds, their minds shattered by Chaoseater's power. If, however, the attempting wielder is of strong will and mind, then they have a chance to control the sword for a short while, before it then assumes control of them in turn. And once this happens, the sword induces extreme insanity in their mind, sending them into suicidal attacks against the enemy, provided if there are any around. In the event of a hostile encounter and if all enemies are then successfully eradicated, or if there are no hostiles to kill, Chaoseater then kills its host and waits for me to retrieve it. And due to the fact that I am mentally bound to the sword, I know exactly where it is, should I ever come to lose it."

"So, in other words, the sharp and pointy edges of the weapon aren't the only dangerous parts of it."

War merely gave a slow nod in response.

"By the way you're describing things, you make it sound like as if the sword is sentient."

"In a way, it is."

Lazarus gave out a low whistle. "Man, that's scary. A weapon that thinks," he said. "What if the weapon decides to turn on you – decides to kill you instead of your enemies? What then?"

War merely shrugged. "So far, that hasn't happened –"

"But what if it does?"

"Then I do believe that I would be 'fucked,' as you would say." The human formed a smirk on his face and laughed – for some reason, the expression seemed to have an undertone of insanity to it.

"So, basically, you've gotta be downright insane in order to use it."

"And that depends upon how you define insane."

Again, the human laughed. "Yeah, that it does. But that's a debate for another time," he said, rising to his feet. As Lazarus stood to full height, the sound of light laughter shocked him still – it was War. It wasn't the type of laugh that was filled with humor. This one was rife with relief. However, the man didn't seem to realize this.

With a smirk, Lazarus closed his eyes, folded his arms, and puffed out his chest, saying "Ah yes, how my comedic prowess has grown. My presence alone is enough to make people laugh."

"No. That isn't it."

Instantly, Lazarus' demeanor deflated like a balloon – the air escaped his chest; his cocky smile turned one-eighty; he hunched his back as his folded arms fell down and hung at his sides. "Man, talk about a mood-killer."

"This is the first time that I've used so much power at once."

The human's gloomy demeanor changed to inquisitive. "You mean that monster you transformed into? What was that by the way? And how'd you even do that?"

"That was my Chaos Form. And, aside from a few alternative options, I can only transform via the use of Chaoseater."

"Huh. Chaos Form and Chaoseater. Makes sense. Let me guess, the sword 'eats' the chaotic energies of battle, or something along those lines. Right?"

"That is correct. As you have seen, it is incredibly powerful – when I am in that state, I am capable of destroying entire armies with little effort. However . . ."

Lazarus tilted his head. "But what?"

The Horseman sighed. "For a moment there, I nearly killed myself."

"What?" Lazarus asked, part confused and part shocked.

War began to stop paying attention to the human, becoming absorbed into his own musing. "When I was trying to transform, I nearly lost control. It was as if I was unleashing Chaos for the very first time, as if I was merely an infant. But I have transformed plenty of times before. Perhaps –"

"WHOA, whoa, whoa, wait a minute," interrupted Lazarus. "So does that mean you nearly blew yourself up?"

"Maybe; if there was an explosion, it might have leveled the entire battlefield."

This elicited nervous laughter from the human. "Jesus, that's even scarier than your sword." Offering his hand to War, he then said, "Come on, let's get going. I think I've had enough of this place."

The female human exuded power. Everything from her stance to her glare had actually managed to foster fear in his being. The demon, he was scared shitless – but he did a good job at covering up his apprehension. Nonetheless, he worried about his future, provided that if he had one. The woman's glare was filled with hatred and malice – she looked like she wanted nothing more than to plant a bullet in his head. And she never looked away. Not once.

"Human," it said. "What do you hope to accomplish by holding me prisoner?" She remained silent, still piercing him with her unyielding stare.

Did he push his luck? "Demon." Apparently, he hadn't. "You have no place knowing our objectives. Now be silent."

"And yet, I am being held captive as a prisoner of war. Surely, I must have some importance."

BANG!

A large caliber bullet grazed the demon's forehead.

"Understand this, demon: you are worthless to me. I would sooner have you dead than captured."

"Then why hold me captive?"

BANG!

This time, a bullet slammed into the demon's right hand. In a predictable pain response, it clutched its hand and grunted in pain. Dinah was losing her already diminishing patience – her anger surged to the surface.

"You know what? You're really beginning to piss me off." She paused for a moment. "You're probably not even worth the effort of interrogating, let alone being held prisoner. I should just kill you right now and be done with this."

She shifted her aim so that her next bullet would be sent straight into the demon's head. Slowly, she squeezed the trigger.

"That's enough, Dinah!"

Standing atop the crater's edge, looking down on the two, was Lazarus and War – his hood back up and Chaoseater retrieved and slung across the Horseman's back. Using the slope of the crater to slide down to the ground, in mere seconds, Lazarus intervened between comrade and prisoner. War chose to simply glide down to the ground with his Shadowflight ability.

"Calm down, Dinah," he ordered, placing a hand on the barrel of her weapon and lowering it. "Go get some rope from the car." With a final glare at the Phantom Guard, she hesitantly and reluctantly obeyed.

Turning to their prisoner, he said "Dude, quit playing 'twenty questions' before you piss her off."

For the present moment, the Hell-spawn complied as well. Lazarus' posture was relaxed, and Mercy wasn't even aimed at the demon, not anymore. Apparently, the human didn't even feel threatened by even a Phantom Guard. Perhaps there was no need to feel threatened; if he attacked, the human could easily end him – and rather effortlessly. He had seen the human slay dozens – maybe even hundreds – of his comrades. Killing a lone and wounded Phantom Guard, who was at range no less, would be child's play for him.

'Oh how low I have fallen,' the demon lamented to itself. 'However . . . '

In terms of treatment, the human male was a step up from the woman. Perhaps, if he played his cards right, he might be able to swing the situation around in his favor. "Human, from what I have gathered from your cohort, you intend to hold me as a prisoner of war. Is that correct?"

"Yep, seems that way."

"And what purpose would this serve?"

"I already told you: I've got questions, you've got answers."

"But you assume too much, human. I am nothing but a Phantom Guard – a simple soldier. I know nothing of importance to you."

'Man, I can see why Dinah's losing her temper with this guy,' Lazarus thought with a sigh. 'He doesn't know when to shut up.'

Just as the Guard was about to say something else, the man interrupted. "Jesus Christ, don't you know when to keep your mouth shut?" Lazarus closed his eyes and sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Man, you're tenacious."

Then, suddenly, his eyes flew open in a "Eureka!" moment. Dinah picked that moment to come up beside him – complete with restraining rope for the Guard.

Suddenly, Lazarus doubled over in maniacal laughter. "Yes, that's it! That's perfect!"

"Lazarus, what are you talking about?" Dinah asked, confused. Her comrade didn't seem to hear her.

"From now on," he said, pointing at the Phantom Guard. "You're nickname will be 'Tenacious D!'"

The demon blinked.

War blinked.

Ruin blinked.

Dinah blinked . . .

. . . then promptly detached the magazine from her rifle and threw it at her comrade's forehead, contacting with a loud thwack!

"Fucking idiot, where the Hell did that come from?"

Down on the ground, lying on his back and sporting a brand new wound on his brow that, oddly enough, didn't seem to affect him at all, Lazarus said, "Just now, from my comedic ingenuity."

"Comedic ingenuity my ass! What was even the point of saying that?" she asked as she retrieved her ammo magazine and put back in its rightful place.

"Just for something funny and clever to say," He said, shrugging.

Squatting down next to Lazarus she held up a fist. "Okay, first of all, and I give you props for this, yes that was clever of you, but most certainly not funny." She raised a finger.

"Second of all, you are, by no means whatsoever, a comedic genius, although from time to time you do have your moments." Another finger was raised.

"And lastly, don't you ever . . ." She raised her sidearm and jabbed him in the chest – she completely removed her finger away from the trigger, so as not to accidentally fire the weapon.

"ever . . ." Another poke.

"ever name a demon after one of the best rock bands that had ever existed again! That's just downright insulting." Done with her rant, she offered her free hand to help him up.

Lazarus rolled his eyes. As he was helped to his feet, he said "Oh please, I don't think Jack Black would mind if the name sticks. He's dead, after all." He brought a hand to his chin in a contemplative manner. "Come to think of it, I don't think any rock junkie would mind."

"Don't be too sure of that, Lazarus. I think Jack Black would very much indeed mind. And besides," she said, changing the subject. "You don't look to smart when you're making terrible jokes. Please, stop – I would very much appreciate it if you would. Not only would I appreciate it, but so would the audience."

Lazarus made a confused expression and looked around in all directions, scanning the environment for something. "What audience?" he asked slowly.

Dinah made an audible sigh, shaking her head as she walked back towards the demon to secure him. Scratching his head, Lazarus was just about to ask his comrade what she meant, but stopped when he noticed War mounting his steed – the man began walking towards the two. Noticing his arrival, War turned his head to address the human.

"Lazarus. It was a pleasure to fight alongside you. But now I must be going." The Horseman still looked somewhat weak, but the color was beginning to return to his face.

"Go?" Lazarus asked. "Go where?"

The Horseman paused for a moment. Then, "I am looking for my siblings, the –"

"Wait, you, War, the First Horseman of the Apocalypse, has siblings?" the human asked incredulously.

"Yes. Two brothers and one sister – does this seem odd to you?"

"Yeah, that kinda does, in fact. Who are they?" 'Not like I'll know them or anything,' he thought doubtfully. With an amused smile, War answered with pride in his voice.

"Fury, my sister, and Rider of the Black Horse; Strife, one of my brothers, and Rider of the White Horse; and lastly, our leader, Death, my other brother, and Rider of the Pale Horse. Together, the four of us make up the Horsemen of the Apocalypse."

For several seconds, neither Horseman nor human said anything. Then, with an embarrassed smile and lightly smacking his forehead, Lazarus said "I should've known. Man, why do I feel like an idiot for asking that question?"

"That's because you are," Dinah called out, still securing their captive.

"Bite me, jackass!" he called back.

"Do you know where they are?" the man asked War.

"No."

Lazarus blinked several times. "Well I'll give you points for being honest, but doesn't that seem a bit stupid to you?"

"So says the idiot," Dinah called out again.

"SHUT UP, DAMMIT!"

"You're right," admitted War.

Dinah came walking up to them, holding the Guard's tied up hands behind his back. "He's actually right?"

"Dinah, I swear to God, if you don't shut up I'm gonna kick your ass," threatened a growling Lazarus. Knowing that she got under his skin, Dinah formed a victorious smile and stayed quiet.

"Continue War," Lazarus said with a sigh.

"You are correct with your assessment. It is foolish of me to venture out and search for my siblings with no knowledge pertaining to their whereabouts. However . . ." War paused, tightening his grasp on Ruin's reins.

"I cannot simply stand by and wait for them to come to me. We have many enemies, which are indiscernible in number – perhaps innumerable. If the locations of my siblings and I are learned by the enemy, they will not hesitate to hunt us down." Again, War paused. He looked up into the sky, which was just beginning to darken as the sun began its descent below the horizon. Night was falling. "What you saw me accomplish today is something that every one of my siblings can do as well. Alone, we are very powerful, but not invincible. With an organized and concentrated effort, our enemies can kill any one of us just as easily as any normal warrior. However, when even just two of us are together, our chances of survival increase exponentially. When all four of us are together, we are an army unto ourselves."

"So, in other words, there's strength in numbers," summarized Lazarus.

"Correct." Lazarus mulled all of this over, apparently thinking of something big. Again, War glanced up to view the coming night, the light from faraway stars slowly, one by one, winking into existence, as if someone was turning on light switches. The Moon began its ascent above the horizon, the satellite at its most visible and brightest form of the lunar phase.

"I should be going," War said. "Farewell." But, just as he signaled for Ruin to begin moving, Lazarus called out to him.

"Wait."

And without his say-so, Ruin abruptly stopped – the flaming stallion turned his body so that he and his master could look the human in the eye. And they did make eye contact – and as they looked into Lazarus' emerald green eyes, they saw several emotions vie for dominance. One was respect – the respect that War has earned from fighting with this human. Another was determination, but of what was the man determined of? Yet another was doubt or, perhaps, fear. Then, determination, in tandem with respect, won out.

Finally, "Come with us."

"What?" War tilted his head in curiosity in confusion.

"Come with us," Lazarus said, repeating his offer. "There's a ruined city not too far from here – probably about five miles or so. Dinah and I have a nice little setup going for us; there's food, water, shelter, and most importantly, security. You can get your strength back up without some jackass interrupting you. Then, once you're feeling up for it, we can help you look for your family."

War was surprised by this offer. "You would willingly risk yourselves to help me?"

Lazarus shrugged nonchalantly. "Why not help you? We've got nothing better to do."

He turned to his female cohort and asked "Isn't that right, Dinah?"

For a moment, she didn't respond, but she was fully aware of his question. She glanced at War, then at their demonic prisoner, then finally at Lazarus. The look he was giving her was of a silent command. She hesitated, and then nodded in acknowledgment, not in response to the question, but to the order. 'Ok, Lazarus, if that's what you want.'

"Pretty much," she affirmed, making eye contact with War. "We just do what we can to survive. Other than that, we don't do much."

"Yep. And it's as you said; there's strength in numbers. And besides, you saved our asses today – big time. If you hadn't showed up as conveniently as you had, the two of us would have been overwhelmed against an army of that size. We owe you one.

"So? What'll it be?"