Monarchs of Above and Below (On Hiatus)

Epilogue (Part 1)

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[Crimson Captain #17 slain]

[Crimson Captain #18 > #17]

[Crimson Captain #19 > #18]

[Crimson Captain #20 > #19]

[Crimson Captain #21 > #20]

...

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The figure steadily watched as the screen before him shown one of his prized possessions being taken and others shifting in to take its place.

He waved his hand as the screen of blood shrunk down to nothing.

Not a moment later the double doors to the nearly pitch black room opened as two figures in suits walked in. One was a slender, blonde man who walked with a sly smirk on his face. His hands were calmly in his pockets as he stepped into the room, as if not knowing the person he approached.

The second figure was a much taller, muscular man who held himself tall, with his bulky arms crossed over his chest.

Beyond the pair of shades both figures wore, the man who was sitting at his desk could see their piercing yellow eyes on the darkness of the room. And sure enough he knew they could very well see the crimson glow of his own eyes as well.

But nonetheless the two suited figures let the door close, shrouding the room in darkness again.

The man at the desk spoke up in a threatening tone. "Why the hell have you wandered in here? What does the Federal Bureau of Hunters want with me?" He asked, his eyes darting towards the pair of IDs stuck to the suits of the men with the golden eyes.

The blonde man spoke first. "I thought we had this conversation before. Why were your... creatures wandering around in the U.S again? Didn't we have a deal?"

The red-eyed man pursed his lips. "Oh, I know who you are." He sighed. "Your appearances have changed once again, Victory." He glanced to the muscular man who still stood silently by the door. "Mercy, I assume."

Victory chuckled, taking of his shades to allow his eyes to glow even brighter. "Answer the question." He ordered.

The red-eyed man clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to crush the man's skull. "If I recall correctly... the deal was that I 'would not interfere with the goings on of America in terms of whatever-the-fuck it is that you Guardians do.' Did I miss anything? All I did was send a single thrall into a gate in hopes it would evolve, which it did. Unfortunately, it was still slain by the hunters within it. It's a common occurrence here in Britain, I don't see the issue." The man complained, tapping a sharp nail on his desk.

Victory chuckled again as he took a step forward. "I assume you also stage dungeon breaks here too just to kill a pair of hunters, right?"

The man clenched his jaw and shot up, moving the chair he was sitting in backwards with such force it skidded several feet before falling on its side.

The man steadied his rage with a sigh as he met Victory's eyes. "What does that have to do with you?"

"Quite a lot actually. The two hunters you tried to kill have been chosen by our architect." Victory stated.

Beneath his grimace, the man smiled. His hunch had been correct. From the beginning he found it odd that a pair of hunters who hardly stood a chance against one of his thralls could take down a fledgling merely hours later.

The man thrust a hand towards Victory, wrapping his elongating claws around the sides of his face. However the suited man didn't so much as flinch.

"I could effortlessly tear yours and your friend's heads off this instant if I wished. What makes you think I'll follow a simple warning to the likes of you." The red-eyed man snarled.

Victory just smirked before locking eyes with the man. "There isn't a doubt in my mind that you could kill both me and Mercy with little issue. However,"

Suddenly, the man felt a sense of dread down his spine. Not for himself, but for his possessions. His thralls, and fledglings, and knights, and every other creature of the night he had amassed over the years. It felt as if every one of them were in danger. Grave danger.

Victory continued. "What of your puppets. There's more guardians then just me and Mercy. While you could kill us if you wished. You can't afford to lose everything you've built up all this time."

The man retracted his hand as he strained to keep his anger in check.

Victory and Mercy turned and started out the door. "All we ask is that you stay out of our business." Victory stated. "Do so, and you can do whatever the hell you want with Britain."

The red eyed man glanced down at the shadows of the two men as the light from outside the room flooded in. Despite the top half of their shadows flooding into the darkness of the room, he could still notice a blot of light within the room. As if the shadows themselves had a pair of glowing wings.

"Try not to cause any more trouble, Monarch." The Guardian said before the door slammed shut.