How much time had passed since Zachariah and Raziel had met each other here on this battlefield and told each other that this would be the day that it all ended? He was beginning to wonder this. Had it been minutes, hours, a day, it seemed to feel like an eternity. Did his followers think that he had died in battle; did they believe that they had lost, because he was not there in the medical base with them right now? He has not heard anything about Azrai or Shizuâ€™s condition for awhile and was beginning to wonder about them as well. Maybe they were dead, maybe they werenâ€™t. Maybe he would not find out because he would soon be dead. He was trying to hold his breath now, trying to keep his fingers in-between Razielâ€™s hands and his throat enough so he could breathe a little but that was not working. The grip was too tight, darkness was starting to cloud his visionâ€¦<br/><br/>If he was going to die here at least he would be taking Raziel with him. That was Godâ€™s will, everything was because of Godâ€™s will. If God still thought him worthy of entering Heaven once all the air was squeezed out of his lungs, which were starting to burn, and he finally passed at the hands of Raziel it would amaze him. When his eyes shut again, he could picture the past, just as he had throughout this entire fight, his mind frantically searching for answers to his own unvoiced questions. As much as he wanted to tell Raziel that he wished he had been competent enough to keep him from going down this path he knew it was useless to bring it up to him. He had tried in his own way to set things right but every attempt had failed.<br/><br/>Five years ago had been enough proof of that. Knowing this, he had eventually set the past aside while he prepared for this day. He had eventually seen Raziel as just another obstacle trying to destroy the Holy Land, a man who was too far gone. He had thought once he faced him that he had pushed the past away enough to just end him without a second though. How wrong he had been, for even now while he prolonged the inevitable he was hesitating. He still wanted to find some way to save him even if he knew it was impossible, Raziel could not be saved. Perhaps, in spite of everything he had seen in that man while they grew up together, he had known it all along and had been selfish. He would not deny that he had a hand in Raziel choosing this path. What he had said had been true, he did have high hopes, his ideals would have helped the Holy Land if he had not become so corrupt. Maybe in his mad attempts to get his followers to accept Raziel, they had seen something he had not.<br/><br/>Suddenly a cry of pain that was not his own had brought him back to the battle and that chemical odor seemed to become much stronger. Raziel was still alive but he was slowly beginning to deteriorate. So it had all come down to this, the acid was finally in full effect and soon Raziel would be no more. He was silent while he took in his old friendâ€™s bitterness, still unable to understand why the other hated him so much. Admittedly there was a small amount of relief that shone in his eyes while he watched the acid work its magic. While the amount of sadness he felt was almost unbearable, unable to stand the thought of failing someone, he dared not show it. He forced himself to seem detached, almost indifferent to the suffering of the other. What good would it do if he voiced everything that he was thinking right now? Would Raziel even listen to him? No, he knew the man would just find some excuse or make some arrogant remark like he always did; his bitterness was just more proof.<br/><br/>Still, he wondered if he had done the right thing. He had tried to get his followers to accept Raziel and view him as one of Godâ€™s children but all they had done was reject him. With that in mind, ending his life was the right thing, was it not? He could see the hatred in Razielâ€™s eyes; it came as no surprise that he would not forgive him. That was all he needed, was it not? Zachariah winced as blood mixed with acid dripped from Razielâ€™s wounds onto his arm. It had burned a hole in his skin. The pain was almost unbearable and he probably would have given into it.<br/><br/>Once he was able to free himself from Razielâ€™s grasp he moved his hand to his gun. He rubbed his neck as he took steady breaths while trying to crawl away and get free for a good shot. When Raziel spoke again he had stopped moving and looked him in the eye again. Upon Zachariahâ€™s face, while his expression remained neutral overall, traces of subtle amusement could be spotted. To see that the man was still so arrogant while close to death was not surprising considering he has always been an arrogant fool. He shook his head and sighed quietly, narrowing his eyes, wondering if he should answer him or not. Part of him did not even want to give him the satisfaction of an answer and just let him find out for himself. But he did not know what he wanted to do either; he was torn between just leaving right here and now and firing off that final round. Raziel was right to assume that he did not like to see others suffer. On the other hand apparently Raziel felt that Zachariah has caused him so much pain and suffering already.<br/><br/>Why should he not leave him here? Why should he end his suffering? He was in just as much pain as Raziel right now but knew that his once close friend would never understand. There was no use explaining anything, just like it was no use to say anything more.<br/><br/>But in the end he did give the man the satisfaction of a response, unable to help himself, perhaps out of his own arrogance, his own confidence now that he was seeing what this acid was truly capable of. He knew that Raziel would no longer be able to harm him. â€œAn arrogant fool until the endâ€¦ you havenâ€™t changed at all. If there had been another way to stop you, I would have done it long ago.â€ He began softly, speaking slowly, â€œI truly had not wanted to resort to the use of the acid. It pains me to see this happening to you... But you had brought this upon yourself, my brother, and I should just leave you here to your misery. Why should I show you any mercy?â€ His voice had cracked a little towards the end but he kept his composure as best as he could. He didn't want his emotions to show through too much, and did his best to try to seem as detached as he could.<br/><br/>Using every bit of strength he had, he grabbed Raziel and rolled over, reversing the roles. Now the one on top he bored into the man with his eyes, a cold gaze, and shook his head. His hand had left his gun.  â€œYou are not worth it. It serves you right to suffer.â€ He snarled, and then he got off of him and stood up, walking away. Unable to bring himself to kill Raziel or watch him suffer, unable to stand the sight of him or hear his voice, he decided to just leave him there. He would be dead in a matter of minutes anyway so there was no reason for him to waste his breath. Taking shaky breaths he looked out to the battlefield which was littered with bodies and stained with gallons of blood. This was going to take a long time to clean up and he knew that the city would never be the same again. He had not wanted this, wished it could have been avoided.<br/><br/>There were still some bio-weapons left; he could feel them staring at him. He could see their eyes move from him to their leader, wondering if he would give them any orders. They had been so brain-washed that they could not function without somebody spoon feeding them orders and telling them what to do. Zachariah knew that he had to get rid of them, doubtful that they would be able to live normal lives or even go back to whatever life they had before they had been dragged off the street and made into a weapon. He pulled out the gun and laid waste to the one that was closest. The acid had worked much faster on the abomination that it had with Raziel, which had been enough to keep the others away from him as he aimed the gun at them.  Without their leader they were reduced to cowards. Briefly he wondered if he could take them into the organization but knew it would just be selfish to keep them around. He couldnâ€™t save everyone. These people were too far gone, just like the man who had made them this way.<br/><br/>Zachariah took a few steps forward and felt his stride falter a little. While he was lost in the moment he had not been aware of just how bad his injuries were. His throat felt dry and his ribs burned, his face felt numb and his legs ached. Would he be able to make it back to the medical base on his own or would he need someone to help him? He didnâ€™t want to bother Ivan. The man already had his hands full with everyone else that had been injured.<br/><br/>In the distance he noticed someone approaching him and wondered if it was just another bio-weapon.<br/><br/>â€œZachariah!â€ A voice had called out, â€œIs it over, are you alright?â€<br/><br/>â€œYouâ€™ll need toâ€¦â€ He began, but then shook his head. â€œThe battle is over, we have won, Sanctus Unum is no more. Spread the word. Send some people to start cleaning up, kill anyone that shows signs of being a bio-weapon, and keep the civilians away from this area until it has been cleared. I will be heading back to the medical base on my own.â€<br/><br/>The woman hesitated for a moment, â€œYes, sir.â€<br/><br/>Zachariah was perfectly capable of heading there himself, he knew, briefly, where it was. Perhaps he was being a little stubborn or maybe he was too proud to let someone else help him. Either way he wanted to be alone right now. While his followers remained on the battlefield and followed their orders he slowly made his way to the medical base as fast as his feet would allow. He could hear several bio-weapons screaming in pain as they were tortured then killed while he walked but ignored everything around him. While he knew God would not want His children to torture these already damaged souls he knew this was the only way he could be sure that Sanctus Unum would never return. He needed to strike the fear of God into them. This day was really starting to take its toll on him and he didnâ€™t want it to get to him any more lest his emotions come pouring out.<br/><br/>He wasnâ€™t sure how long it had taken him to get to the medical base, but he had practically fallen down the stairs he was so weak. Someone from inside had heard him enter. There were several people on guard; a few had aimed their guns at him. When they noticed who had entered they eased, eyes wide, and immediately began to help him. As much as he wanted to push them away he couldnâ€™t, and he simply rested his head upon the one who had took him in his arms. A few people had joined in cheering and praising God that they had gotten through this. Little did they know, their leader, who they looked up to for guidance and placed all of their trust in, was feeling emptiness inside of him reminiscent of how he felt when Raziel had first turned away from the organization, when everyone had first cast Raziel out. He dared not show it upon his face, faking a smile to remain strong in front of his followers as to not have them worry about him.<br/><br/>â€œIvan!â€ A man ran into the room where he was, just as the conversation had ended, â€œIvan! Zachariahâ€¦ Zachariah has returned. Praise be to God! Our glorious leader is alive!â€ The man was filled with elation as he was shooed out of the room by the medics tending to Ivanâ€™s wounds. At those words, however, even some of the medics were curious and people had stepped out into the hallway. Sure enough the man had been right.<br/><br/>Zachariah was alive, perhaps not exactly all in one peace, but alive nonetheless. As he was taken to an empty room and several people started looking him over he was deep in thought. Could he tell his followers that he still did not have it in him to finish off Raziel? The thought lingered for a moment as if haunting him. He knew the answer was an obvious no since he did not want their opinion to change of him. But at the same time, he was human and he knew his followers were aware of that. The sorrow in his eyes was not dismissed by those around him. They were looking at him as if expecting some huge speech or explanation as to why he was so depressed at the moment in spite of their victory. Unaware that he just wanted to be alone. His mouth opened as if to tell them to get lost but he couldnâ€™t bring himself to utter the words, even though they were practically being screamed in his mind.<br/><br/>He didnâ€™t want to sit still for too long.<br/><br/>â€œSir, please rest,â€ a feminine voice, gentle, told him.<br/><br/>â€œI will be perfectly fine. Focus on tending to everyone else, I need to speak with Ivan. I need a detailed report on what has been going on since he last spoke to me.â€ He tried to stand but found that he didnâ€™t have the strength. Exhaustion was starting to wear him down, he needed rest.<br/><br/>â€œIvan and Shizu are fine, as is Lucianâ€¦ but Azraiâ€¦â€<br/><br/>â€œWhat about Azrai?â€<br/><br/>â€œHeâ€¦ he might not make it. The poison was a neurotoxin powerful enough to kill an Oni. Shizu, surprisingly surviving the poison after a cure had been found, had given him a blood transfusion but heâ€™s still very weakâ€¦ he may not pull through.â€<br/><br/>He felt a sudden sense of dread. The news had crushed him more than he ever imagined. Letting out an exhale he laid back on the bed staring at the ceiling. The look on his face was almost unreadable. He really didnâ€™t want to think about what would happen if they were to lose Azrai; it could very well change the organization dramatically since he has always been such a valuable asset to him. He had been one of Godâ€™s chosen soldiersâ€¦ Everybody who had been lost today was one of Godâ€™s chosen soldiers. But Azrai had a special place in Zachariahâ€™s heart, always would. Without thinking he stood up from the bed despite the protests of the medics and started walking down the hall to the room where Ivan and Azrai were. He had to see this for himself, the damage, somehow it would make him feel better if he saw it, he did not want to be left in the dark, he had to see if what was being said was true.<br/><br/>It wasnâ€™t that he did not trust his followers, but this was a little too hard to believe. If Azrai didnâ€™t pull through thisâ€¦ No. He was not going to think about it, knowing that he needed to tend to the others who had still been injured. With or without Azrai he knew they would need to rebuild the organization and he had to let everyone know what he had in mind.<br/><br/>On his way he happened to look into the room where Lucian was, deciding to stop by. â€œLucian?â€<br/><br/>â€œZachariah.â€ Lucian responded, his voice hoarse.<br/><br/>â€œWhat happened to you?â€<br/><br/>Lucian was not really sure where he should begin, and every time he opened his mouth to speak he felt his rage building up again. â€œIâ€™ve had a rough day,â€ he said slowly, almost uncharacteristic, calm from how tired he was. He thought back to the long flight and then being held hostage, the look on his rescuerâ€™s face, and when Maverick had knocked him out cold. He had only come to just a moment ago when everyone was making a commotion now that Zachariah was confirmed to be alive. With a look on his face that confirmed just how tired he was, he added, â€œI just want to go home right now. A friend of mine owes me two beers nowâ€¦â€<br/><br/>â€œElias?â€ Zachariah inquired.<br/><br/>â€œYeah.â€ Lucian confirmed. â€œWas heâ€¦?â€<br/><br/>â€œElias had been the one that informed us you needed rescuing, it was his request. Iâ€™m sure heâ€™ll be glad to hear youâ€™re alive.â€<br/><br/>There was an almost unreadable expression on Lucianâ€™s face and he just gave a nod in response. Somehow he was not surprised that Elias would have him rescued, the others would have rather he dropped in a hole and die, he never understood why they disliked him, rather than save him from some madman. There was something about Zachariah, having only met the man exactly three times now, that seemed to draw out the moreâ€¦ tolerableâ€¦ side of him that other people so rarely saw.