Joseph Dudley looked impatiently up towards the large hands of the clock tower.
   It was a cold January night and he was freezing like a bastard. He flicked a match against the ancient
stone work of a church and lit a cigarette to keep him warm.
   Earlier that day, he had received word that Anahita and Jamie Calohan would be returning from Brussels
with a 'friend'. He had waited for an hour and a half solid in the freezing Albion weather and still there had
been no sign of them.
   He shrugged, it was no skin off his nose, after all and he had never felt entirely comfortable around
Calohan - there was something he found inherently off putting about having a conversation with a dead
man.
   Slowly he turned his back on the January twilight and made to head back home when a sudden wind blew
his Albion army issue parka up and nearly forced him to drop his cigarette.
   He turned around, a startled look on his face and his eyes widened. Standing on thin air was a tall man
with hair darker than crow feathers. He was clad in a costume of white and red and bilious cloak flowed out
from behind him.
   "We intercepted a transmission." The tall metahuman announced stoically. "It originated from this
particular landmass."
   Dudley was quiet for a moment, looking into the hero's deep set eyes and trying desperately to think of
something to say. The best he could off was:
   "Who the bloody hell are you?"
   The superhuman's chest swelled with pride.
   "I am Majestros."  He said, the last rays of sunlight refracting off his costume.
   "Oh." Dudley replied, still having no idea as to what the hero's presence signified. "Well, you better
come down from there before someone starts taking pot shots at you."
   Majestros nodded solemnly and placed his feet upon the soft Albion soil.
   "Best come with me. I've got someone who might be interested in meeting you." Dudley advised.
   The metahuman nodded and together, the two of them made their way to the tube station.

*  *  *

   "As you can see, the machine - this 'Goat' - has attacked randomly. We do not believe it has any
artificial intelligence, though that they may be the case. Suffice to say, it must be destroyed before it
becomes too big a threat."
   The Inner Sanctum nodded and some of the crows squawked out in agreement but the majority of the
humans at court remained silent, allowing the two alien species to play out their strange little game.
   "Has there been any confirmed sightings of the Hawksmoor individual?" Basileus called out.
   Hadranel shook her head.
   "And what of our two missing sisters, Kuan Yin and Saranyu?" Yahriel questioned.
   "There has been no word from either." Hadranel continued. "Word has that they engaged a Daemonite
warship at midnight last night and their craft was badly damaged. It detonated over Japan. We are currently
briefing one of the research teams stationed on Island Zero so we can gather a search team to recover the
craft. Conversation with the Japanese government has been difficult to say the least."
   "How did a Daemonite craft make its way into Albion's airspace undetected?" Basileus shouted. "Surely
this kind of attack leaves us compromised."
   "We are uncertain at this time." Hadranel admitted.
   "Is there anything we are certain of?" Basileus continued.
   Hadranel cast her eyes to the ground.
   "That's a good enough answer for me." Basileus snapped and turned to a young Cherub standing at her
right. "Organise a wing of Ark fighters, brief them on the situation and tell them we are going into Japanese
airspace by force."
   "We can't spare the fighters." Azrael snapped, rising up from the crowd and taking the stand. "All Ark
fighters and Angelic warcraft must engage and destroy this Goat machine that currently threatens our
home."
   "Does Albion not have an army?" Basileus countered. "Does this not fall under their jurisdiction?"
   Emilia looked nervously through the faces in the crowd, searching for a glimpse of Dudley but he was not
there. Summoning her courage, she rose from her throne.
   "I can not condone the use of Albion citizens as fodder for a machine that at this time does not threaten
Albion. This is a matter for Elysium to deal with, not Albion." She said regally.
   Basileus scowled in her direction.
   "Is that so, your majesty?" The Angel snarled. "Then perhaps I shall see to it that Elysium turns a blind
eye when Albion is next threatened."
   "That is absurd..." Emilia began.
   "Is it?" Basileus hissed. "Is it absurd to ask for loyalty when we have spent so many centuries protecting
this worthless country of yours? I think not." She turned back to her fellow Angels. "Send the humans,
there can be no argument."
   "I protest!" Emilia shouted over the squawking of the crows.
   "Over ruled." Raguel called out as she entered the room. "The army shall deal with the Goat. Our own
forces would do best to recover our two..." She paused and smiled darkly. "'Fallen' Angels."
   "The matter is agreed?" Hadranel asked.
   "Aye." Muttered the majority of the Inner Sanctum and Queen Emilia sunk back into her throne.
 
*  *  *

   The space station Noir rotated upon its metaphysical axis and turned its sensors to the vast cube of
machinery that currently threatened Elysium.
   A large craft was approaching from the Earth's atmosphere and silently, Noir cross referenced its
databanks in order to get an ident-code for the craft.
   There was no identification of this particular vessel in the station's memory but it had come across what
type of craft it was.
   Alarm bells began to ring as every one of its omniputers displayed an image of the ship and what little
information it had on this type of craft. It was a Daemonite craft, that was for certain.
   The space station revolved once more as its defense systems came online and then abruptly powered
down.
   The Daemonite craft was acting in a strange fashion. In one foul swoop, it unleashed a series of warheads
that burrowed their way into the Goat's side and exploded deep within in the coils of its complex and
undoubtedly superior brain drive and then it moved alongside the vastness of Elysium and seemed to
actually dock within the great heavenly body.
   Noir puzzled on this for a moment until a communique‚ was received from deep within Elysium that
instructed it to ignore the anomaly.
   The small, mile wide space station shook its metaphorical head for a moment, a look of confusion on its
imaginary face, and then promptly returned to recording the progress of the Goat.

*  *  *

   Majestros looked decidedly out of place onboard a London tube train.
   Dudley smiled as they left the Central Line station and made their way into the car park.
   The superhero strode determinedly and looked decidedly uncomfortable in Dudley's parka, which he had
insisted he wore so as to 'disguise' him from the general populace.
   They stopped before a two-wheeled contraption that Majestros looked uncertainly at.
   Dudley ran a hand over the scanner that had been built in just below the handlebars and threw his leg over
the machine as the engine started. He looked up at Majestros expectantly.
   "What is that?" The hero questioned, a severe frown crossing his face.
   "It's a Vespa." Dudley commented off-hand. "You know - like a scooter."
   "I do not know." Majestros commented, shaking his head almost sorrowfully.
   "Look just get on and I'll tell you about it on the way."
   Hesitantly, Majestros put a leg over the machine and reached out with his hands to hold onto anything
that wasn't Dudley.
   As the scooter pulled out of the car park and headed up the road, Dudley was heard to say:
   "Did I ever tell you my thoughts on Star Trek and Doctor Who?"

*  *  *
 
   Manny Weiss looked out of the pale glass window and sipped his coffee. Before rested a plate of fish,
untouched by any but the cook and the young, attractive waitress that had delivered the plate to him.
   He wasn't one for sitting and resting these days, though over the past few centuries he had become weary
of his long, never ending walk through the cosmos.
   He walked wherever his feet took him and today he found himself in Albion.
   With a slow motion of his right hand, he pushed the plate of fish away from him and sipped his black
coffee. The centuries had taken their toll on poor Manny Weiss though he was not one to complain.
   His grandmother had often spoke of him with an almost urgent sense of pride though most of the time
Manny had not been around to witness her great appraisals of him.
   She had, however, bestowed upon him her marvellous recipe for chicken soup, which always made him
smile.
   Of course that didn't help the associations that went with said recipe for now whenever Manny Weiss
remembered his grandmother he imagined he could taste chicken soup.
   And yet it was a small price to pay for such a perfect recipe.
   One of his greatest regrets was not being around when his grandmother had passed on. At the time he had
been walking the rings of Saturn for what he imagined to be the gazillionth time.
   Still, it couldn't be helped.
   Silently, Manny Weiss returned to his coffee.

*  *  *

   Ishmael had been in Brussels for more than three days without a single word from the Parliament or their
unwilling representative.
   He moved his way through the dark underbelly of the city, his long coat turned up around the collar and
his hands pushed firmly within his pockets.
   Something was desperately wrong.
   A shrill scream filled the air and was silenced by the swooping sound of an Angel's staff.
   He shuddered, looking left and right to make sure that he had not been seen and then dived into an alley
as another half-gurgled scream rang through the air.
   At the end of the alleyway there were four people, two of them looked to be children and one was a man.
The other was an Angel - the same Angel he had heard screaming mere moments ago.
   He neck was lowered down to the mouths of the children, who appeared to be inspecting it and, as he
closed in upon the scene, he saw that the Angel had been cut upon from throat to privates and was impaled
upon the wall by her own staff.
   His stomach turned and he felt nausea rise up in the pit of his stomach.
   The Angel stared at him with cold dead eyes, she had been the Guardian of this city, he knew that much.
   Slowly the adult man turned to face and Ishmael gasped, trying to draw breath in an impossible situation.
   He knew the man but he had thought him long since deceased.
   "I thought I'd leave you a souvenir," The man whispered. "But it appears you've already found me."
   Ishmael doubled over and terror consumed him.
   "Still, now is not the time for conversation." The man smiled. He bent over and ran his fingers through
Ishmael's hair. "We shall met again, very soon, my dearest friend." He whispered and then was gone.
   The night air chilled Ishmael's bones as he lay in a foetal position, the distant sound of sirens filling the
city's air and gently he sobbed to himself, rocking slowly back and forth.

*  *  *

   The Albion Armed Forces space vessel Potemkin stood still before the giant planet consuming machine,
several lower classes vessels flanking the larger craft's right and left.
   "What in God's name is that bastard?" Brigadier Henshall whispered in silent awe.
   "We're getting multiple readings." A corporal at the craft's main omniputer noted. "They're off the
scale."
   "Find me a bloody weak spot on that thing. I want thermonuclear warheads primed and ready for launch
and make sure all quantum cannons are ready when we engage."
   "With all due respect, sir, is it wise to release a thermonuclear device this close to the planet's surface."
The corporal questioned.
   "It's not our job to decide whether its wise or not, we have our orders." Henshall stated. "Prepare the fleet
to engage."
   "Aye, sir." The corporal muttered as several more warcraft and other ships broke free of the Earth's orbit.
   Slowly they surrounded the Goat, each one ready for the oncoming attack.
   A sudden warning light flashed across each of the omniputer terminals.
   "Sir, we're getting a reports across the board that all crafts in the fleet have encountered friction. The
machine seems to be employing some sort of force shielding. We are being drawn in, repeat, we are being
drawn in."
   "Damn it, man, get us the hell out of its range!" The Brigadier shouted as the craft lurched forwards
simultaneously with the rest of the fleet.
   "I can't, sir. We're being dragged into it." The corporal shouted back.
   The Brigadier closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.
   "Open channel, corporal." He shouted above the noise of the ship's protesting engines. "This is Brigadier
Henshall to all vessels. All ships prepare to detonate thermonuclear warheads, repeat all ships prepare to
detonate thermonuclear warheads."
   The omniputer screens illuminated with acknowledgements and the Brigadier closed his eyes again.
   "God save the Queen." He whispered. "Detonate."
   Noir watched as the skies filled with explosions, running like liquid over the surface of the Goat and
scorching its outer shells.
   It heard it creators whisper hopefully for a brief moment as the sky was obscured by fire and then all
words were silenced as the Goat arose once more, burnt and baptised by the thermonuclear devices.
   Still, the planet-eating machine advanced...

*  *  *
 
   The Vespa pulled up before the two Beefeaters standing solemnly on guard in front of Buckingham
Palace.
   "It's only me." He called out.
   The two silent robants looked curiously at the alien in the ill fitting parka sitting on the back of Dudley's
scooter.
   "Don't worry about him, he's my cousin..." Dudley lied. "I wouldn't ask him anything though. He's from
Bulgaria. Thick as two short planks as well."
   They looked at each other and then nodded silently, one moving its giant mechanical arm to usher Dudley
along.
   "Cheers, mate." He replied and drove his scooter past them, a large grin plastered across his face.

*  *  *

   William Blake toppled, its head slammed against the omniputer terminal as the room's sole occupant held
his hair.
   "Do you see my meaning, you idiot scholar?" The dark voice snapped. "Albion is a filthy whore's
bladder. I thought the information I gave thee would have been testament to that."
   "Where...is...Kuan...Yin?" Blake stammered, dark oil running down its face from the wounds the stranger
had inflicted upon it.
   "She's dead, you stupid, piss poor excuse for a poet. Her 'sisters' in the Inner Sanctum saw to that. Are
you going to listen to me now or must I strike you so more?"
   Blake closed it eyes and made a decision.
   "I will listen." It replied.
   "Good." The voice answered and let go of its head.
   From the moment Blake had pushed those doors open, its life had changed. After its first tentative steps
into the room it had been attacked whom, between blows would question it as to its purpose. Now, as the
simulacra turned round and got its first glimpse of its assailant, realization dawned.
   Its attacker was another simulacrum.
   "Good evening." The other machine smiled, bowing slightly. "I am Nicholas Hawksmoor."

*  *  *

   Dudley pushed open the doors to Emilia's quarters, Majestros following on behind him.
   "Pet? It's me, listen, I've got someone here that you should talk to." He called out.
   "In here." Emilia called.
   Dudley detected a hint of sadness in her voice and he registered that something had happened inbetween
the time he had left and returned.
   He moved into Emilia's study and found her sitting at her Albion terminal, a young girl with shocking
pink hair standing besides her.
   On the screen were the images of the Goat destroying the entirety of the Albionic Air Force, played over
and over again.
   "Hallo, Mister Dudley," The young girl reached out with her hand. "I'm Anya, I'm a friend."
   He ignored her gesture and bent down, placing his arms around Emilia's shoulders.
   Silent tears were streaming down her face.
   "It killed them all." She whispered. "And I sent them there to die."
   "We can't talk here." Majestros suddenly announced.
   "What?" Dudley looked up suddenly.
   "There are listening devices here. I can hear a group of armed robants making their way here."
   "Shit, they know." Anya cursed.
   "Know what?" Joseph snapped, panic rising in his voice.
   "I'm sorry, Mister Dudley. I shouldn't have come here, I've put you all in danger." Anya sighed.
   "What the fuck do they know?" Joseph shouted.
   Anya sighed.
   "I'm a Planetary operative. Being seen and heard with me is treason. We're all going to die."
   Dudley rolled his eyes.
   "Oh, that's fucking brilliant, that is. Thank you, you could have waited for us to come to you. I mean it's
not like I love the Angels because I fucking hate them all," He looked meaningfully at where he imagined
the recording devices were. "But fuck, dying was not on my list of top ten revolutionary acts to commit
before I'm thirty."
   "I'm sorry." Anya whispered.
   The vast oak doors shattered in splinters of wood as several robants, each carrying quantum rifles
marched in, followed by the Archangel Raguel.
   "Well, well, isn't this merry? The Queen and the Earl of Leicester revealed as traitors."
   "Piss off, you old bag." Dudley snarled.
   "And what do we have here?" Raguel questioned turning to where Majestros had been standing...only he
was no longer there.
   The sudden scream of tearing metal alerted her and she spun round to find the tall stranger in the army
issue parka standing behind her, the robants decimated at his feet.
   "You..." She whispered. "You're the Kherubim representative. These bastard revolutionaries got you
first...I don't believe it..."
   Majestros said nothing as he administered a swift punch that shattered Raguel's nose and knocked her
unconscious.
   "Fucking A." Anya whispered.
   "We have to leave this place." Majestros said emotionlessly. "Do you have a safe house organized?"
   "Yes." Emilia stepped forwards. "I know a place."
   Majestros nodded once.
   "Then I suggest we leave." He muttered and the four of them made their way out into the corridors and
towards the exit, hearts pumping adrenaline and ears filled with the sound of alarm bells.
 
*  *  *

   Noir watched as the Daemonite vessel detached itself from its Elysium moorings and manuevered round
till it was facing the Goat.
   Surely such an attempt was suicide, surely this vessel would be destroyed, just as all the others before it.
   The Goat pulled the Daemonite craft closer and it made no attempt to resist until it was as close as
possible to its terrible jaws and then it suddenly pulled up, scaling the side of the machine. Vast metal limbs
shot out from the craft's underbelly and dug their way into the Goat's skin and Noir realized that the
strange unidentifiable creatures inside the Daemonite ship were going to attempt to breach the Goat
themselves, to actually enter inside of it!
   It felt dizzy with the prospect. Could such an insane plan even possibly work?
   Carefully it examined the craft and watched as a group of five creatures left the craft and entered the belly
of the beast.
   A sudden stray blast struck out from the planet eater and exploded before the space station's sensors, they
shattered in a sudden explosion and Noir was left blinded and hanging in the void.
   And inside the guts of the machine, the creatures moved further inwards...