text: The 'why' is unclear. To humanity, it was the world's greatest accomplishment; they defeated world hunger. Nowhere on the globe did any child go hunger. Food was plentiful for everyone everywhere. To them it was the beginning of paradise. Things were a little different in the unseen world. Angels, demons, and spirits felt the tangible shift in the world. They knew the truth. Humanity didn't defeat Famine; he was murdered. It was ironic in a way. Death was born when a brother murdered his own brother, so it was only fitting that he would do the same. Perhaps Death thought he could save himself by ending Famine, reducing the mass deaths caused by starvation for the slower pull of old age. Perhaps Death was jealous, and wanted Famine's power to himself. Perhaps Death was just that. Death. Perhaps his relationships mean nothing, and he wants nothing more than to kill every thing alive. The why remains unclear. What is clear is what happened next. The remaining horseman, Plague and War, panicked. In a last ditch effort they split up, hoping to escape their mad brother. But Death found Plague, hiding among the filth of an unwashed cult. A battle naturally ensured, but Plague was never a fighter. He tried to escape, jumping from body to body, and casting vexes as he went. Vexes that didn't even slow the pale rider. By the end of the night, another horseman was dead. Humanity rejoiced. The unseen quivered. They knew what would come next. War wouldn't wait to be hunted and killed; he would challenge Death. And he did. And when Death failed to arrive, War became enraged, and he sent the humans after each other. It was a great war, so terrible and bloody and never ending. War only started the spark, but the humans kept it alive. The war burned for ages, until the prosperity of former generations was forgotten. It was now when Death decided to strike. He found War waiting where he challenged him all those years ago. A small private clearing in the forest with plenty of room to duel. War was in the center of the clearing, sitting on a discarded piece of a turbine. Waiting. It was evident that he had been waiting for a while, as the forestry began to grow on and around him. But when Death came War knew. He called out to his old brother, letting him know he knew he was there. 'You know, I knew it would be one of our own that would kill us all. It takes a horseman to kill a horseman. I just always thought it would be Famine. You know how he gets when he's hungry.' War chuckled at his own joke as Death stepped out from behind the treeline. They were facing each other, Death looking silent as ever and War looking up into Death's eyes. 'You could at least tell me why. I think you owe me that.' 'I think you know.' War's smile dropped. He gazed deep into the abyss of Death's eye sockets and was no longer amused. He stood now, casting off the plants and clenching his fists. 'What of our duty! We have a job to do here. What of that!' To this, Death laughed. It began as a small chuckle, but evolved into full blown laughter. Reflexively, War drew his blade and gun, but Death didn't attack. He instead kept up his unearthly cackle as he slowly circled his prey. The trees above became alive with activity as the animals rushed to escape the Grim Reaper. The grass under him withered and died the moment he touched them, leaving a path of death in his wake. He turned now to address his brother. 'War... Plague... Famine... If you ask me, those are just fancy ways to say death.' Death's laughter sparked again with renewed vigor, but War seethed with rage. He bellowed and rushed Death, firing preemptive shots from his rifle. Death's laughter cut off in an instant as he quickly ducked to dodge the bullets. He tightened his grip on his scythe and rushed his younger brother. Death has always been the faster, but War was the best fighter. He pushed the flat end of his blade toward Death and dodged slightly to the left, deflecting Death to the side. While Death was off balance, War fired again into his back, slaying the pale rider. Death dropped in a heap on the ground, groaning and dissolving before disappearing completely. War was the better fighter, but he didn't fight fair. He groaned and sighed. He didn't want to kill his brother, but he didn't see any options. But that wasn't the only reason he mourned. Now, War was truly alone. There wasn't another soul like him. Not man or devil, angel or other. He always had his brothers. Now he had no one. He cried as he went to grab the weapon of his brother. He picked it up, and struck it into the turbine he was sitting on. He turned around, eager to leave this cursed ground behind. He turned, and stared Death in the face. Death appeared unfazed, as if the battle hadn't begun yet. He gripped his scythe as he had before, and rushed War again. War defeated him again. Until Death rose again, only to fall again. This happened over and over, as War was a tirelessly immortal and Death kept rising again. But just because War didn't physically tire, the hopelessness of killing the unkillable over and over was beginning to wear him down. He stopped after a particular false victory and leaned on his blade, holding his gun at the unwavering Reaper. Death kept walking towards War, until the gun pressed into his abdomen. War looked up at him and Death looked down at him. 'Why keep fighting? I am inevitable!' War knew it. Deep, deep down he knew. Death couldn't defeat him in combat. But Death could keep him here. He could keep him in this hell forever and forever. War didn't want to do it anymore. He didn't want to live like this. He could. But he wouldn't. He dropped his gun, and cast his gaze away. Death made it swift, beheading the horseman. He then walked away, contemplating his next move. And humanity rejoiced.