Paratus.

Essum, Pessum Ire, and I drift through the Void as I outline the invasion of "Legion's" realm. The plan is quite simple, really. We must gain access, and defeat whatever Objects "Legion" may have.

"What of Legion?" inquires Pessum Ira.

"'Legion' is mine," I reply. "Leave that one to me. Like it was so many centuries ago, 'Legion' and I shall face each other alone. But this time, it is he who will fall."

"Please excuse my impudence, my Master, but can you really face Legion alone? Aside from being the most powerful entity on the mortal plane, Legion has the power of the Objects on his side, all 2538 of which wish to see you dead. And even if you could best him, you could not kill him. He is immortal."

I hold out my hand. I gesture into the Void, and my Secret floats toward me. It is over a meter long, and wrapped in a white cloth, tied near the top with a thick gold tassel. I grasp my Secret as it drifts into my hand and hold It in front of me, between myself and Pessum Ire.

"'Legion' is indeed more powerful than I am, especially now that he has the power of the Objects on his side, all of which despise me. However, Essum's presence should weaken the Objects. It was born from Them, and should be able to drain Their power at a relatively close proximity. Also," **I hold my Secret up demonstratively, "there are some things that 'Legion' cannot begin to fathom. Things to which the Objects simply cannot compare."

"And what of Legion's immortality?"

A cold, dry excuse for a chuckle escapes me.

"Our good friend Balance has seen to that for us."

Essum pays no attention to us, lost in Its equivalent of thought. I observe It, briefly, before calling out, "Are You prepared?" Essum's hood inclines in what I can only assume to be a nod.

The three of us arrive at an old subway station. Standing in front of the gate are several homeless men, all huddled in front of a warm fire. They regard us three not with terror and despair, but simple animosity. I walk up to the nearest man.

"I have come for 'Legion'."

The men produce weapons, and attempt to attack me. But, before they get the chance, they begin to vomit blood. They soon fall to the ground, dead from suffocation or internal exsanguinations or both. They stand back up again, making ready for another attack.

"Aren't you supposed to bow and open the gate?"

"Not for you, Infectus Essum."

"Unfortunate." I turn around and walk away from the men. I glance at Pessum Ire. "Deal with them."

Pessum Ire steps forward, takes the man's head in his hand, and crushes his skull into a bleeding red pulp. Another man lands a blow on Pessum Ire with his crowbar, only to find that it has not made the slightest dent in Pessum Ire's carapace. Pessum Ire shoves his hand into the man's chest, pulling out a bloody red lump that I would guess was once the man's heart. He crumples to the ground with his companion as Pessum Ire continues to dispatch all of the guardians in a similar fashion.

"There is not much time," I say as I hear the distant sound of running feet.

Pessum Ire nods and turns his attention to the gate. He grasps it with all four of his arms and pulls, slowly prying it loose.

More men arrive. Before I can move, Essum turns toward them. Before I can realize what happened, the men are screaming as they disintegrate into bones and dust. Pessum Ire, loosing an earth-shaking roar of exertion, manages to rip the gate from its hinges and toss it aside. We enter Legion's domain.

Inside is an ornate hall, with only one set of monstrous double doors at the end of it. The hallway itself is clad in unthinkable opulence. There are no guardians in our path, but a mixture of demons and men pour through the now wide-open gate. As Pessum Ire and Edo Edi Essum engage them, I run toward the end of the hall, clasping my Secret tight in my hand. For the first time in centuries, a feeling of anxiety builds deep inside me. I know that no matter what happens, the fate of myself, the usurper, and the Objects will be decided beyond those double doors. I will either exit them vindicated, or not at all. This is the culmination of all my work, all my planning, all of my waiting. I push them open.

I am greeted by a massive chamber, made of a pure crystal. There are no walls, save for the one that the door I just entered through is attached to. Instead, this platform appears to be suspended above a gigantic, black abyss. At the center of the crystal floor, a figure sits with its back turned. It stands up and faces me for a few long seconds. Memories flood me as I see the face again. The white-blond hair. The straight features. The look of utter, dark hatred.

"Legion."