Laz stood there with Two watching his trash legion practice. They had seen an influx of new recruits from survivors who had arrived at the fortress with nothing to do. Men and women who had lost their homes, their families, their everything. They had seen the remnants of Laz’s legion and asked if they too could pick up a sword.

No one was denied.

"They will be going to their deaths," Laz said as he stood out over the courtyard, watching them train. The remaining members were walking through the ranks of the thousand that had gathered, correcting their stances, fixing their strikes. They didn’t let a single mistake go unchecked.

"As far as most of them are concerned, they died back when they left their homes, when their loved ones were killed, either by beasts or on the trail. What they are doing now is making sure their deaths mean something, anything. They are desperate, lost and hopeless. Only by swinging a sword do they feel like they had any meaning left," Two replied, his voice almost a whisper.

Six and Seventeen stood behind them, their normal banter missing as they looked out upon the death squad they were now in charge of.

"Will it make a difference?" Six finally asked.

"If they can stick a blade into the flesh of a beast, yeah, it will. At least to them."

"So we really going out of this place to fight them?" Seventeen asked.

"Yes. We need to draw their attention somehow and giving them something to focus on will do that. The more they are attacking us, the less they are attack the gates. The Southern gate is secure and the path leading to it is smaller so there will be less of a presence there. We will be marching from the North gate to meet them head on. The more we kill, the more that will come and if we can keep them off the gate, that energy can go to reinforcing the southern gate, making it unbreachable. If they are able to attack both gates at once, only then will it fall, driving us back to the secondary gates further up. Luckily those are smaller as well, allowing for a bottleneck situation to occur. Hopefully though it doesn’t get to that point."

"Got it. When do we head out?"

"In a few hours. Everyone will have a chance to prepare while some equipment will be brought to us as well. Let them know to gather in four hours. We will begin the march then," Laz said, turning his back on the platform and walking away.

Two stood there with Six and Seventeen for a few moments after he left before turning to one another.

"Did you feel that as well?" Two asked the other two.

"I felt like my soul was shaking. I can’t even begin to imagine how powerful the first has gotten, but it’s better for us that he is," Six said while Seventeen shook his head in agreement.

"I wonder just what is he thinking about right now?" Two asked, looking at where Laz had retreated to.

"Who are we to know that?"

...

Laz sat down in a chair, looking out the window just over the North end of the fortress. He didn’t really know his way around and didn’t feel like using his spiritual sense to figure anything out. Instead, he found his way to this empty room, sat down and looked out the window, thinking about everything that had led him to this point.

After a few hours, a knock came on the door, one Laz wasn’t expecting.

"Come in," Laz said still looking out the window.

A guard came in and walked up to Laz, standing a respectful distance away.

"Sir. Her majesty wanted me to deliver this to you. It was found among some of the supplies that had been packed and brought from the capital before it’s fall and she said it seemed like it belonged to you," the guard said before handing over an old, civil war style supply pouch.

Laz’s somewhat shaky hand reached forward to grab it, unable to believe his eyes.

"Thank you and the Empress for me. You may go," Laz said before losing his composure.

Once the man walked out the door, Laz couldn’t stop himself from hugging the old pouch slightly and letting a few tears fall, for only in quiet solitude could Laz ever let himself feel weak.

Opening it up, he noticed that nothing had been disturbed, almost like it had been tossed aside and ignored after they had acquired it. Reaching in, he pulled out Sever and swung it a few times. Even here, in this dimension, it seemed like he was cutting the air in half every time he swung. It was even able to hand a good amount of his current power, although he didn’t try it with too much energy since he didn’t want to make too big of a mess. Along with Sever were also many of the clothes and gifts his wives had prepared for him after his last meeting with them. While the clothes he had been given were surely more expensive, the ones that had been packed contained an esthetic from his home world and he quickly changed into a rather nice black suit with gold accents that had been custom made for him. While he didn’t mind the clothes of this dimension, feeling the familiar types of fabric on his skin seemed to bring him peace. Along with that, there was also the demon mask he had worn all those years ago, except it seemed now to be made of metal, likely a gift from Kennedy herself.

Laz brought it out and put it on.

"Now if only Kat could respond..." Laz said out loud before he felt a rush of power around him. It started and vanished quickly, only lasting but a moment. But when Laz looked down at himself, he noticed that his clothing was now glimmering slightly, as though there was something metallic about it.

"Kat? KAT?" Laz tried calling, but got no response.

"She must still be too weak. Still though," Laz said, before slamming the butt of Sever into his chest, only to feel it repeal off the suit jacket he was wearing.

"Seems she is still with me," Laz said.

With that, he felt a call from around him, and heard it’s whispers.

"You must remain hidden for now. If something happens.... then yes, you can feed on this sword. But until then, it’s been with me for many years and I’d like to give it once last battle before I retire it away for good," Laz said opening the door and stepping outside.

A cool breeze rushed through the hall as Laz began his march, heading for the courtyard where everyone would be gathered. Despite the hall being clear, Laz could feel many gazes on him. Tamesis, Hera, Pooja, Persephone, Aphrodiate, Artemis, Athena, and all the others were all looking at him within their own minds, following the falls of his feet, looking at his clothing, something none of them recognized. Even then, they couldn’t help but feel their breath being taken away.

Arriving at the courtyard, Laz could see Two, Six and Seventeen all lined up front next to Blake and the other members of the trash legion as they looked out upon the thousands who had gathered. When Laz had been here earlier, it was only a small amount who had come to train at that time. During the day, they would only come when they weren’t performing other duties or doing other jobs. But after the call to gather went out, they knew to be ready to go, gathering their full numbers for the first time ever.

Looking out at the faces, some old, some young, many wounded or scared, some with only one arm upon which a shield rested, Laz saw the same thing he had seen the last time their group had moved out beyond the walls of a fortress; They knew they were walking to their own deaths, but they didn’t care.

"Dad!" Nagi said softly as she approached.

"You should wait inside for now. You will be needed later," Laz responded to her, reaching out to rub her midnight dark hair.

"I know. But I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye," Nagi responded, leaping forward to hug him around his neck. Laz was shocked at first, but then reached his free hand up to wrap around her back and hold her close to himself.

"I will be back. I promise you that," Laz said, both to her and himself.

"I know. I’ll wait for you." Nagi then jumped down before Laz could respond and took off disappearing down the hallway he had just come from.

Laz took a deep breath then jumped the railing, landing in front of the original trash legion and facing his new recruits.

His voice boomed out among the snow and stones.

"When this legion was first formed, we were nothing but a throw away group, sent out to die. But we didn’t. We lived. We fought. And we kept on living. Before, we would refer to ourselves as the trash legion because that’s what we were, junk to be discarded and forgotten. But no more. You, who have joined here for today for whatever reason you hold deep within your hearts... Your one duty is to live. Live until the last of our enemies fall. Live until you are the last person standing on the battlefield. Live until the blood of our enemies runs in rivers and the sun of a new day rises. From now on, you walk with death as your companion and war as your blanket. You are not allowed to die until I give you that order. From this day forward," Laz raised his hand in the air and scribbled out a symbol using his black flames, just a simple marking rune that would never be removed unless done so by one stronger than himself.

"You are my Death Walkers!"