Chapter 1
Capitol City United States of America; April 21, 2038 11:56 PM
Thunder rolled, lighting struck, and Mother Nature made a great display of her might. But tonight, like any other night the Hawk watched over the city. He was the guardian of Capitol City and its people and had taken down any who dared to threaten the city. His great bronze-colored wings shielded him from the great bucket fulls of rain which drenched everything on Earth. Then, his police radar broke the silence “Attention all officers… riots broken out in the East End…is believed to be related to recent racial violence in the Kyrgyzstani and Scythian neighborhoods. All available officers please respond.” And then the Hawk was off.

Upon his Bronze wings he took to the sky and flew to the source of the disturbance. The Hawk’s dark brown eyes were fixed hard upon the horizon where he could see a bright red light that was obviously related to the riot. As the Hawk drew closer a ball of lead grew in his stomach as he realized that this wasn’t something such as police lights, but a raging, blazing inferno.

He stood atop a building; the cascades of rain ran down his masked face and over his dark skin. “Unfortunately you’re too late,” came a deep voice from the darkness behind him. The Hawk jumped, spun and pulled out an Nth Metal morning star and the chain shot out, the spiked ball of death pointing towards the shape of the speaker. However, his shape flickered and he appeared to move in the blink of an eye as the morning star missed.
Then the Hawk took a closer look at the man. He had a trench coat and fedora with a smoldering cigarillo in his mouth. The stranger had pale skin, a dark red beard, and striking green eyes, and then Hawk realized that the stranger was no stranger.
“Roy?” he said in surprise. Roy uttered a deep sigh and remarked “No Nathan, its Ric Flair. Who the Hell else would be able to track you to this exact location? And call me Darragh; I don’t want anyone knowing my Christian name.” Darragh’s voice made it obvious that he was in a stormy mood. “What are you doing here? You’re an antiquarian” inquired the Hawk. “What’s going on here ain’t just another riot or civil problem like usual with this city. It goes deeper than you could imagine.” Replied Darragh his deadpan tone never taking any emotion, and his face was a mask of apathy.
“Fill me in later. Join me in the Tower. Do you need help getting there…Darragh?” the Hawk turned to see that his companion was nowhere in sight. Hawk hadn’t been turned around long enough for Darragh to have walked away. Nathan had always suspected his friend had some sort greater than human powers, and this only supported his hunch. So, without doubt that his friend would be in the Tower, the Hawk few up into the air.
the Tower, north of Capitol City May 1; 10:30
A tall spire rises up from the dark forests to the north of Capitol City. I
t was made from white stone, a stark contrast to the black night which now enveloped the world. It had been built in the early 20th century by an eccentric millionaire obsessed with what he believed to be the coming apocalypse and planned to whole up in the Tower. However, he disappeared the day it was completed and was thereafter abandoned, while legends of the madman’s ghost seeped into the minds of people of Capitol City. That was why the Hawk chose to base himself there, so that he wouldn’t be bothered.
When Hawk entered the keep he found just what he expected: Darragh standing in front of his super computer. Darragh eyed him with a frown and didn’t say a word. “Well, you said you’ve got some Intel about that riot,” said. “I’ll tell you, but you can’t laugh it off as just another conspiracy theory. Capice?” demanded Darragh. Hawk would have rolled his eyes had he not seen something in the back of Darragh’s eyes, something he hadn’t seen in a long time: Fear, the most primal of emotions. Fear of the knowledge that he was forced to carry. “Okay, I’ll listen,” said the Hawk
“The riot was the mechanization of a cult whom seeks to bring about the Apocalypse.” Darragh stated plainly. Hawk eyed him suspiciously and demanded “What does that have to do with a riot.” While the Hawk was speaking Darragh lit up another cigarillo. “If all the coppers are dealing with the riot, then who’ll be watching the Museum of Ancient Artifacts?” Darragh retorted. Hawk then became angry “You knew they were going to pull this off and you did nothing?!” Darragh said nothing but displayed his left hand, heavily bandaged and the sleeve of his coat was charred black. “Oh. A-sorry,” muttered Nathan.
“Never mind that. Get your super computer to show the newsfeed,” instructed Darragh. Nathan did so, knowing he probably shouldn’t inquire as to how he knew about the computer’s capabilities. “…And they were safely returned to their family. In less happy news, during last night’s riots the Museum of Ancient Artifacts was broken into and the Amenonuhoko. A weapon that, according to Japanese mythology, was used to raise the earth from the sea. It was on loan from…” Nathan stopped the computer and turned to look at Darragh.
“I suppose this has something to do with the coming apocalypse?” he inquired.
“Right,” replied Darragh.
“Can you tell me what the sword with an impossible name has to do with this apocalypse?”
“I can.”
“Will you?” Nathan demanded in growing annoyance.
“Of course. According to the ancient scrolls, it’s the weapon of some ancient eldritch abomination from the earliest days of humanity.”
“That seems a bit far-fetched don’t ya think?”
“Said the man in a winged suit of gravity-defying alien armour.”
“Touché,” replied Nathan. He accepted that this was a feasible possibility, but what truly perturbed him was how nonchalantly Darragh was relaying this information. “So now what, we wait for a giant squid monster to show up with a giant sword trying to eat our brains?” Nathan asked jokingly. But Darragh’s face hardened.
“This ain’t a laughing matter. No matter what you’ve dealt with, this is a different matter entirely. The beast that we now deal with is something that has been the bane of Mankind since the days of the Flood. It’s talked of in the Torah, the Book of Revelations, the Dead Sea Scrolls, the Qur’an, the Hindu Vedas-Hell, even the bloody Necronomicon-the Book of Dead Names!” Fear appeared in the back of Darragh’s eyes. He started hyperventilating and grabbed his chest as he began to fall back
Nathan grabbed hold of his friend and his eyes began to dull. Nathan put his friend in a chair to get into his civilian attire to bring Darragh to the Hospital. Nathan returned two minutes later dressed in a white suit with a black tie. But Darragh was convulsing in the chair and cried out in agony. He managed to wheeze this dark recollection, “Ham the accursed son of Noah went out among the savage desert and there met the witch Theazel. And by her begot Shallot, who begot Goëmaggot, Bane of the Earth and Scourge of Mankind. And the Beast did beget the tribes of Gog and Magog who ravaged the Earth for two score thousand years. But then Dhul-Qarnayn, the Horned Prophet-King banished them to the frozen lands beyond the edge of civilization and the Beast within a coffin of Heavenly metals. But alas, when His Sable Majesty comes once more they shall ravage the Earth and lay waste to Mankind.”
Nathan stopped and stared at Darragh who had become still. Darragh’s eyes moved to Nathan and he muttered, “Hospital.” Nathan carried his friend down the stairs to his car in the garage below the Tower. He put his friend in the back seat and drove like hell to get his friend to the hospital. When he entered the city, a police officer stopped him and Nathan quickly yelled at him and showed that Darragh was in and out in the back seat. With the police car leading the way they were at the hospital in ten minutes flat.
Chapter 2
St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, Capitol City May 1; 7:00 PM
The next several hours were a blur. The point at which things started to slow down was when Nathan’s wife called him. A large nurse came up and told him, “Sir, there’s a call from someone claiming to be your wife in the lobby.” Nathan nodded and reluctantly left his friend’s side. He walked to the lobby through the pristinely clean hallways of the hospital. He had always wondered why a place filled with disease and death was so spotless. Maybe it was a psychological thing, but Nathan just didn’t know.
In the lobby the woman at the desk gave him the phone and he said, “Hello?”
He was relieved to hear his wife’s voice on the phone. “What is it dear?” he inquired.
“Well,” said his wife. “You said you’d be home at the latest a couple hours ago, and now I hear that you’re in the hospital?! What happened?!”

“I met up with an old friend and then, Hell, he had a heart attack or something and now he’s in the operating room and they’re trying to figure out what happened to him.”
“Oh! I’m so sorry…which friend is it?”
“Remember Darragh, the antiquarian? I met up with him on the way back from the Tower at a Diner. We talked for a while; he got into a big argument with some random person, then the poor fool passed out.”

“Okay-but hurry back you hear Hawk!” and then she laughed and hung up. Nathan’s wife knew about his secret identity, but he thought it would be better not telling her about the apocalypse stuff.

Nathan then walked back to the elevator to go upstairs and see how Darragh was doing. He got into the elevator with a short, pudgy little man who looked like a bum. The elevator went up and Nathan stood in an awkward silence with the bum. Then the elevator stopped and Nathan’s heart dropped into his stomach as he’d always been terrified at the thought of being trapped in an elevator.
He looked at the little bum, who, out of the blue said, “Can you do it?” This question took Nathan aback. “D-Do what?” he stuttered. “Can you stop the coming of the Beast? The coming that your friend Roy told you of?” demanded the small bum man. Nathan stared in disbelief at the small man.
Then the bum removed his wool cap, revealing his eyes: Two orbs of darkness with stars scattered throughout, and then Nathan realized that this wasn’t a mere mortal man-but really a being, a being of some great unknown power. His voice then took on the depth of something much greater then Nathan and it seemed to emanate from the world about them. “Will you do it?” Nathan took a deep breath and said “Yes” with confidence he didn’t know he had.
Then everything just went back as it was. The door opened to reveal he was at the floor that Darragh was on and the creature that had been next to him was gone. Uncertainly, he exited the elevator and looked towards Darragh’s hospital room. As he drew near a doctor walked out of the room. He was a moderately sized man with blond hair turning white and appeared to be blind, despite being called the hospital’s best surgeon.
“Hello sir,” said the doctor in a Norwegian accent. “I am Doctor Pieter Anton Cross, and I have just finished operating on your friend. It would appear that he has suffered from a stress-induced heart palpitation. He’s in stable condition and you can go in and visit him, but he’ll be here for a while, and please don’t rile him up. He almost had a relapse after one of the student nurses spilt a jar of cleaning fluid on him.” Dr. Cross then walked off to deal with the next major problem.
Nathan walked into the room and saw Darragh lying down in a hospital bed with various wires poking into him. Darragh wearily pulled himself in an upward position and looked towards Nathan. “How’ve you been?” Darragh inquired. “Well, I was in the waiting room for a couple hours, then my wife called and I was down in the lobby for a while,” explained Nathan. He chose not to tell him about the encounter in the elevator, as this wasn’t something he wanted to burden on Darragh’s already fragile psyche. “What’d she have to say?” inquired Darragh. “Just worrying about me not coming home as planned. If she wasn’t aware of the whole superhero thing she might not be so understanding,” chuckled Nathan.
“Watch your words in here-Big Brother is watching you,” he said ominously. Nathan had known Darragh-or rather Roy as was his “Christian name”-for two decades, but even since they met in the second grade he’d been rather aloof and odd. Nathan however didn’t mind and the two were good friends. Darragh would have been his best man, had he not been incarcerated after a “disagreement” with a Jehovah’s Witness. But Nathan still rolled his eyes whenever Darragh spoke of his conspiracies and plots.

“So I need you to tell me about this problem we’re dealing with,” said Nathan, trying to keep calm despite the distress he was in after his encounter with the creature in the elevator. “Shoot,” replied Darragh, readjusting himself to make it easier to converse with Nathan. “What are we dealing with exactly?” Nathan asked first.

Taking a deep breath Darragh began to explain the story that had been prophesized and whispered of in ancient manuscripts and the tales of long-dead holy men. “We are dealing with Goëmaggot, a dæmon which has for millennia been imprisoned in a tomb of metal from the stars. He is the leader of two tribes of wretched mutant monstrosities, Gog and Magog. According to the Qur’an and other ancient sources, the tribes were locked behind impenetrable walls in the four corners of the Earth by the benevolent Horned King. However, when the stars come right as they did many ages ago His Sable Majesty will call forward Goëmaggot who will in turn set loose the tribes of Gog and Magog upon the Earth. I believe that these cultists have found the Tomb of the Beast at the behest of His Sable Majesty so as to bring about the End of Days.”
Nathan stopped for a moment to take everything he’d been told in. “And when will this supposedly happen?” asked Nathan uneasily.
“According to the ancient lore, it’ll happen on the blackest Sabbath of them all; the night when His Sable Majesty will appear before those with the audacity to summon him on the accursed occasion: Walpurgisnacht. Or in laymen’s terms midnight on May Day. Tonight when the clock strikes midnight.” Darragh announced ominously.
“Wait, what time is it?” asked Nathan, fear beginning to grip his soul. Then a sound like a great bronze bell sounded and everything began to shake. The shaking grew more intense as instruments and tools were thrown from theirs shelves, and Darragh even fell from his hospital bed. Nathan had to lean up against the wall to avoid falling. Screams of terror filled the city but they were silenced by a deep terrible rumble, a horrendous wretched cackle that seemed to emanate from the bloody bowels of Hell. Nathan heard Darragh moan in terror from the floor and for a moment their eyes locked and in a horrible, terror filled whisper Darragh answered Nathan’s terrified question, “Too late.” Darragh then began to stutter and convulse uncontrollably.
May 2, 7:45 AM
Nathan was driving back to the hospital from his house in the Capitol City suburbs. Though it was technically morning storm clouds and darkness covered the sun. He had gone to see that his wife and baby son were still okay. As he had hoped they were untouched by the catastrophe that had occurred in Downtown. The entire area had surrounded by the military and “Strategies were being prepared for the management of this unfortunate happening.” This was of course, bullshit. But the government couldn’t tell the people it was the End of Days.
Worse still it would appear that the Earth’s only hope was Nathan a.k.a. the Hawk’s slightly psychotic friend Darragh, who had suffered two seizures in twenty-four hours. Nathan knew that even his friend’s knowledge may not be able to save the World.
As Nathan drove he saw the area of destruction that contained a beast that could very well be the end of the Earth. He shivered at the glance and returned his focus to the road. He was the only person actually headed into Capitol City, and even he thought it was stupid. If Darragh wasn’t in the hospital then Nathan would be getting out of the city with his family.
As Nathan pulled into the hospital parking lot he took out the Hawk armor cube. As he walked towards the hospital door he placed the cube in his pocket. He entered the lobby and decided to take the stairs rather than the elevator following his disturbing encounter. Upon reaching floor 13 he sought out his friend’s room, Room 666. Taking note of Darragh’s location he thought it best not to tell him, given his superstitious nature and weakened health.
He saw that Darragh was again lying in his bed, but he looked even weaker than he had previously. When Nathan came within Darragh’s sight, he attempted to sit up but had to recline back again. Nathan sat next to his friend and waited for him to speak. Meanwhile the news gave a feed of what was going on from a distance. “The Justice Society has arrived on the scene and is attempting to quell whatever is raging across Downtown. Now it seems…” Darragh turned it off and shook his head. “Those damn fools aren’t doing anything but egging the dæmon on.”
Nathan then asked, “Is there anything you know of that could stop this thing?” Darragh let out a long, deep sigh that ended as a harsh pained cough. “I have the one item that can put this beast back into its previous state of Unlife: The blade Dhu al-Fiqar it can only be wielded by someone who is pure of heart,” he explained reverently. Then Darragh reached over to wear his brown trench coat hung on a rack, and pulled from a pocket…a carved ivory blade hilt with a golden hand guard.
Nathan became incensed by this. “This is your big surprise?! The hilt of a sword?! That’s what going to save the world from this monster?!” Before Nathan could continue Darragh threw the hilt to Nathan who instinctively caught it. Then a blade of blue flames flew from the hilt and Nathan realized that it was a supposedly mythical sword of fire.
“Sorry about saying all that stuff,” apologized Nathan sheepishly. “Never mind that,” replied Darragh with a slight smile on his face. “But why didn’t you light this up?” demanded Nathan. “I ain’t pure of heart.” Darragh then grabbed the hilt and attempted to get up.
“What are you doing?” inquired Nathan. “Well somebody’s gotta fight that monster,” Darragh replied as though it were that simple.
“But you just said that couldn’t use it.”
“I’ll think of something.”
“Why would you do that when we’ve established that I can use it?” Nathan demanded. Sighing Darragh answered, “Here’s the reason-there’s a catch: Any creature from the Outside summoned on Walpurgis Night has much greater power than they ordinarily would. So whomever should slay the Beast…will be killed by the negative dimensional energy backlash his body releases.” Nathan stared at Darragh who, for the first time Nathan could remember, averted his gaze.
“So you were going to go out there and you knew it would kill you?!” Nathan cried angrily. “Look Nathan,” began Darragh. “You have a family-your wife and son- friends, a good job. I on the other hand am a partially psychotic antiquarian who’s bled on every continent and been locked in dozens of prisons and asylums. No one would miss me once I’m gone.” Nathan could easily see how depressed his friend was and wished there was something he could say to prove him wrong.
Instead of speaking he simply stole away the hilt and its flame lit up as he held it. He then pulled out his Hawk armor cube and activated it. For a moment his body was consumed in a bright light. When it had passed the Hawk stood there in his Nth metal armor. The Hawk looked at his friend who still pleaded with him. “Don’t sacrifice yourself. You have so much to live for.” The Hawk replied sadly, “Yeah but right now I’m the only one who can do the job.” Hawk flew out the room’s large window while Darragh waited helplessly.
He lay for a long while. It felt like hours though it could very well have been minutes, but Darragh didn’t know. Finally there was a great roar of pain an again the Earth quaked. A jovial doctor ran in and proclaimed “The beast has been beaten! The city is safe!” But Darragh didn’t rejoice. He lay there numbly, eyes stinging with tear. When he was certain no one was around, he turned to his pillow and sobbed.

Chapter 3: Epilogue
The funeral was a great affair. The mayor, military personnel and even members of the Justice Society attended the “Capitol Hero’s” funeral. While this great public frenzy swirled about the mourning friends and family Darragh watched from atop a hill over the grave. To remember his friend he sang a song he’d learned as a boy that always relieved his sorrow.

Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward! The sailors cry;
Carry the lad that's born to be King
Over the sea to Skye.

Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar,
Thunderclouds rend the air;
Baffled, our foes stand by the shore,
Follow they will not dare.

Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward! The sailors cry;
Carry the lad that's born to be King
Over the sea to Skye.

Many's the lad fought on that day,
Well the Claymore could wield,
When the night came, silently lay
Dead in Culloden's field.

Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward! The sailors cry;
Carry the lad that's born to be King
Over the sea to Skye.

Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep,
Ocean's a royal bed.
Rocked in the deep, Flora will keep
Watch by your weary head.

Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward! The sailors cry;
Carry the lad that's born to be King
Over the sea to Skye.

Burned are their homes, exile and death
Scatter the loyal men;
Yet ere the sword cool in the sheath
Charlie will come again.

Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward! The sailors cry;
Carry the lad that's born to be King
Over the sea to Skye.