New York
Megiddo Tower

          Julie poked her head through the door. "Azrael?" She called out. This room was supposedly Azrael's new office; it was the first time Julie had really seen it. It was huge - the size of half a football field and about three stories tall. The floor was elegant marble, with the Fulgore emblem engraved in the center of the floor using colored stones. Towards the back was an ascending staircase which lead to a small second level. This is where Azrael stood. On the second level was some computer terminals, video screens, what appeared to be a few workstations, and a large chair. There appeared to be a hidden area underneath the second level as well. The entire right wall was a window overlooking the city, with a walkway constructed approximately halfway between the ceiling and the floor.
          Upon spotting Azrael, Julie crossed the floor and went up the stairs to him. As she arrived, Azrael said nothing, but instead began to walk across the window walkway. Somewhat confused, Julie followed him. Azrael stopped a few steps down the walkway and took a look out over the city. Julie wondered if she should question why he'd called for her, but figured he'd eventually get to it. After a few moments, she would prove to be correct.
          "Julie," he said, "there's something I'd like to get your opinion on."
          "Okay," she responded, not quite sure what was coming next.
          Azrael paused slightly again. "I have been considering meeting with the humans, letting them know of my intentions."
          Julie nodded. "Okay. And?"
          Azrael turned towards her. "Don't get me wrong, I will not change my intentions. I just feel a slight obligation to tell them at least what I'm planning to do and why."
          "Okay," Julie said again. "But honestly, I don't think that's necessary. Do they really need to know?"
          Azrael turned back towards the window. "I'm planning the genocide of an entire race. Over six billion living souls. The least I can do is to tell them why this has to be."
          Julie studied Azrael for a moment. For the first time, she didn't quite see the confidence, the assuredness he usually carried.
          "I'm sure the American government already knows what I'm going to do, thanks to Orchid," Azrael continued, "but I doubt they know why. Nor will they release it to the public unless deemed absolutely necessary."
          "That's a fairly safe bet. I'm sure they're thinking about panic control."
          "Right. And I don't believe this kind of thing should be withheld."
          "But, frankly, I still don't understand why you feel compelled to tell everyone. There's something you need to do, so you do it. Everything else is inconsequential."
          "So you believe I shouldn't talk to the humans?"
          "It's not that you shouldn't, I just don't see the point. When this is all said and done, you're still gonna have six billion dead humans, and it doesn't matter if they understood why they died beforehand."
          "More than that," Azrael said, seemingly lost in the view of the city, "I know that all humans aren't bad. Unfortunately, I cannot pick and choose who lives and who dies. There's no way to know who should, and that's not my authority anyway. But if a race is to be condemned on the basis of their nature as a whole, then I feel at least they should know why. And give them the proper time to make peace with themselves and their lives before they die."
          Julie looked at Azrael again. She was starting not to recognize him.
          Azrael turned back to her and smiled. "At any rate, I'm kind of curious about the possible reaction. Despair, rioting, pandemonium, that sort of thing. The humans may actually begin to help us." He began to move back towards the second level. "Well, thank you for your opinion Julie. If nothing else perhaps I just wanted someone to hear mine."
          "So then you're going?"
          "I believe so." And without another word, Azrael sat down in his chair.
          Julie thought to herself that Azrael had returned to his former self. However, for a brief moment there was a side of him she'd never experienced before. She couldn't quite pinpoint it, and it didn't seem likely, but it almost seemed like she'd seen doubt from the Fulgore leader.

Ops Command Center

          President Harrison sat at the center of a table in a small room. This was a private meeting, to better discuss strategy. The only people seated at the table around her were Thunder, Jago, Karen Connors, and Lt. Samuel Preston. The lights in the room were a bit dim, and the nearby computer monitors along the wall gave off a soft glow in the weak light.
          "So Ms. Connors, Lt. Preston, you've been brought up to speed on where we stand. Okay, my first priority here is bringing down that shield," President Harrison said. "I need options."
          "There is one way to break a plasma shield," Karen said. "Rather than trying to overpower it, we can hit it with a concentrated shot in one place. If it's enough to break the cycle of energy, then the shield will fall."
          "Do we have anything that can do that?" Thunder asked.
          "Currently, no." Karen answered. "But we can make it using the plasma weapons that were retrieved from Ultratech Brazil. I can reconfigure the plasma emitters to fire the concentrated burst, but we need to build something that can output the power. It'll have to be pretty big."
          "How long will it take?" President Harrison asked.
          "I think I can get it done in two weeks. We already have the schematics for the Piercing Cannon from building the Fulgore cyborgs, it's just a matter of getting the parts and putting them together."
          "Allright then," President Harrison said, "I want this done. I want people on this around the clock. Let's see how fast we can get it done. Lt. Preston?"
          "Yes Madam President?" Samuel responded.
          "What can you tell me about Fulgore activity?"
          "The SATCOM pictures we've been getting shows continued varied activity around the city. It's impossible to be precise, but their numbers are rising. We're estimating at least over five hundred."
          "They're still preparing then?" Jago said.
          "Looks that way."
          "Azrael will probably stay behind the shield until he's good and ready," Thunder said. "Unfortunately, we have no idea when that will be. Could be weeks, days, hours even."
          "I'd assume he'd want to build more forces," Samuel said. "If it were me I'd want nothing less than ten thousand. But...just seeing what one of those things can do, even just a few hundred already scares me."
          Just then, the door opened and a military man entered the room. "Please excuse me Madam President," he said, "but Ms. Orchid has escaped."
          The table's attention now turned towards him.
          Jago perked up. "What? Escaped?"
          "She broke out of her room and stole an F-15 fighter jet."
          "Do we know where she is now?" Thunder asked.
          "No. I have no idea how, but somehow she managed to disable all the tracking devices on the jet. She's running quieter than a Blackbird."
          "Okay, thank you," President Harrison said, dismissing the man.
          "Escaped?" Jago said. "By the Tiger..."
          "With her skills and abilities as an Agent, she could be anywhere." Thunder said.
          Jago turned to the President. "Aren't we going to pursue her?"
          President Harrison stared into the center of the table. "No. No we're not."
          Jago's face aghast, he began to speak, but President Harrison cut him off.
          "I understand you're concerned about your sister. And a friend. But we just don't have the time and resources to be chasing after her. Especially considering her current condition."
          "All the more reason why we should chase after her." Jago said softly.
          "I'm sorry Jago, I understand your feelings but we can't afford to satisfy our personal desires right now. We can look for her after we've dealt with Azrael. And given time, she might come back anyway. Maybe she's just blowing off some steam."
          Another man entered the room, this time Secret Service. He came over to the President and whispered something into her ear. She nodded in response, and stood up.
          "I'm sorry, I have to leave," she said. "I'll be back soon. Take a break in the meantime."
          President Harrison left the small meeting room, and made her way to the opposite end of the complex. It was here that living quarters had been etched out. She walked through the general area all the way to the back. After passing several levels of security, she finally arrived at one more set of quarters - her own.
          She entered the room and took a look around. "Rosemarie? Rosemarie? You here?"
          "Mommy!" A voice called out from the distance. "You're back!"
          "Yes dear, you called for me?" President Harrison began moving down the short hallway towards the living room.
          "My friend wants to meet you."
          The President smiled. "Your friend? Hey, who have you been making friends with now?"
          Rosemarie jumped up from the couch and faced her mother. Her "friend" also rose, stood, and turned towards the President.
          "Greetings!" Azrael said cheerfully.
          "My God...you!" President Harrison exclaimed, aghast.
          Rosemarie seemed not to notice her mother's reaction. "Mommy, mommy! Lookit what I can do!" She held a red rubber ball in her hands. She held it out in front of her, and starting staring hard at the ball resting in her open palms. Azrael shot a glance at the ball - it levitated a few inches from the girl's hand, hovered for a few seconds, then fell back down. Rosemary, thrilled with herself, looked up at her mother for a reaction.
          "That's nice sweetheart." President Harrison said calmly, never taking her eyes off Azrael. "Now, get away from that thing."
          Rosemary looked confused. "But, why?"
          Azrael knelt down next to the little girl and put a soft hand atop her head. He smiled. "Your mommy and I have some grown-up things to discuss. Why don't you go to your room and practice your new trick some more?"
          "Okay!" Rosemarie nodded excitedly and ran off towards her room.
          "Remember, it's all about concentration!" Azrael called out behind her.
          Meanwhile, President Harrison was glaring at him. "I swear, if you've harmed even one hair on her head..." she said between her teeth.
          Azrael turned to her. "Not at all. I'm afraid you've mistaken me. But, that is why I'm here. Won't you have a seat?" He gestured towards a chair the President was standing next to.
          Ignoring the chair, with Rosemarie gone the President surveyed the room. No Secret Service. Azrael must have done something with them. No immediate weapons she could use. There was a phone line on a desk across the room. Could she make it? Would it do any good? The hallway was behind her which lead to the door back out into the main building, but again, it seemed like a long way to run. There didn't seem to be any good options. She returned to glaring at the intruder.
          Azrael raised his brow. "Prefer to stand? Well, that's fine." He walked away from the couch to directly face President Harrison. "Well, I know you are a terribly busy person, Madam President, so I won't waste your time. I've come here today because I'd like to arrange a press conference."
          President Harrison was a little surprised. "A press conference?"
          "Yes. I'm afraid, thanks to my secrecy, the only things you know about me and my goals come from my enemies. I feel that, at the very least, you deserve to know what's going on and why. So, I would like to properly explain myself, and give you the opportunity to ask me questions that I will answer. Well, questions I want to answer, anyway."
          "And you need a press conference for this?"
          "Yes. A global one. I would like you to invite the world's press. This is something everyone deserves to hear." Azrael gave the President a quizzical look. "Well...would it be possible?"
          The President frowned at him. "I…I suppose it would be possible. Just to talk?"
          "Just to talk."
          "When?"
          "Well, whenever would be convenient for you. Anytime is fine for me. How about tomorrow?"
          "Tomorrow. Sure, I guess. Evening would be best."
          "Six o'clock?"
          "Sure."
          "Allright then, it's set! Tomorrow at six o'clock. I'll leave the preparations to you. I will return here at the appointed time. And I will come by myself." Azrael smiled and bowed a bit, then straightened himself. Then, he seemed to remember something. "Oh! Tomorrow, I will be your guest." He widened his smile. "I'm looking forward to receiving your hospitality." He smiled even wider, then teleported away.
          President Harrison exhaled heavily. As the last of the blue teleportation light faded away, she turned and ran towards her bedroom. Flinging open the door, she saw Rosemarie sitting on the bed, scowling at the little ball in her hands.
          The little girl looked up. "I can't make it fly anymore," she pouted.
          President Harrison breathed hard sighs of relief as she stared at her daughter.

          In one of the computer rooms, Lt. Preston concentrated intently on one of the computer screens. So much so, that he didn't even notice Chief Thunder's approach behind him.
          "Still working hard?" Thunder asked.
          Lt. Preston was slightly startled. "Huh? Oh! Uh, no. Reading an email from my wife, actually."
          "Is she ok?"
          "Yeah...she's at her mother's down south. They're doing allright. But...she's scared. Everyone is."
          "Yeah." Thunder said softly. "Look, uh...Sam, I got a hard favor to ask you."
          Samuel spun around to face Thunder. "What's up?"
          "Well...you know, I don't quite understand the situation with Orchid. She disabled the tracking devices in the jet she stole?"
          "Yeah...I dunno how she did it either. Those things are supposed to be tamper-proof."
          "So there's no way of finding her?"
          "Well...outside of conventional means, there's always listening posts, weather stations, things like that. Especially in a time like this, everyone's real careful about their airspace. Nowhere as exact as RADAR, but we can at least get an idea of where she's been. You can't fly a screaming jet across the world these days without someone noticing it."
          "Okay. Then...can you do it?"
          "What, find Orchid?"
          "...Yeah."
          "Wouldn't that be a clear violation of a direct order from the President?"
          "I said it was a hard favor."
          Samuel pursed his lips a bit.
          "Hey," Thunder said, "I know what I'm asking. I just…Orchid's one of our own, y'know? We've been through a lot together. And I...we...we can't just leave her behind, especially like this."
          Samuel now looked down. "Yeah...you can't really forget about your buddies, can ya?"
          "I don't need a full-blown search, just...if you can keep your ears open, get an idea of where she's going..."
          Samuel looked up at Thunder. "Ok. I'll see what I can do."

Tibet
The Ancient Tiger Shrine

          The sun was setting across the Tibetan horizon. Orange rays of light poured into the Great Hall through the open spaces between the support pillars. The eyes of the Tiger's Head sculpture caught these rays and reflected them, making it seem as if the Tiger's eyes were on fire.
          For Master Zen'keth, it was sight he'd seen everyday, but it never failed to awe him. He was the only one in the Great Hall ? most of the monks were still off training. Soon would be time for dinner and worship, at which point the Great Hall would be bustling with activity. However, now, all was calm and peaceful. Master Zen'keth liked to use this time everyday to do personal praying. He positioned himself in front of the Tiger's Head, dropped to his hands and knees, and began his daily ritual.
          A few minutes later, he felt the presence of someone behind him. Normally, such an ordinary thing wouldn't be enough to disturb his prayer, but this wasn't an ordinary thing. Something just felt…off. Master Zen'keth stood and turned around to face the person. As he suspected, it wasn't a monk of the shrine. Quite the opposite, it was a woman. She had long, frayed black hair, and was wearing a black tank top and army pants. Everything about her just seemed to be wrong in some way.
          "May I help you?" Master Zen'keth asked, using the little English he knew.
          "...Please...help...me..." Orchid whispered.
          Before he could react, Master Zen'keth felt yet another presence behind him. This one was far too familiar though. He turned to find Master Abbot emerging from one of the temple's long hallways. Master Abbot merely smiled at him.
          Master Zen'keth gave the woman one last look before bowing slightly, and retreating to another part of the shrine.
          Master Abbot slowly approached Orchid. "I believe you are looking for me."

          Orchid sat on her hands in one of the Shrine's guest rooms. She kicked her legs back and forth, looking around randomly.

          I've been here before.

          "Yes, it was three years ago. Now will you be quiet?"

          This room needs a TV. And a Playstation.

          Master Abbot quietly entered the room. He held what looked like a bowl of soup in each hand. He closed the door using his foot, and then smiled at Orchid.
          "You're Jago's master, aren't you?" Orchid asked. "The one who does all that spiritual voodoo stuff?"
          Master Abbot's smile widened. "I suppose that's one way of putting it, yes."
          Orchid rocked back and forth. "Well...ah...I don't quite know how to explain this..."
          Master Abbot handed her one of the bowls. "You came here hoping I could make you less crazy so you can fight Azrael. Right?"
          "...Whoa. You are pretty good." Orchid looked down at the bowl. "Thanks, but I'm not hungry."
          Master Abbot smiled again. "I know."
          Orchid looked up at him. "So, what do I need?"
          "Years upon years of therapy. But we don't have that kind of time, so please drink up."
          Orchid gave him another look before cautiously drinking the contents of the bowl. "So, you know all about Azrael then? Is there anything else you know that you can tell me?"
          "I wish I could." Master Abbot handed her the second bowl. "But my vision doesn't go that far. Please drink that too."
          Orchid drank as asked. "Why am I drinking this?"
          Master Abbot took the two empty bowls from her. "When Jago came to see me, I gave him a potion that forced him to sleep. While he slept, he experienced an event from his past, as if he were living it all over again. That was the contents of the first bowl. You, however, will experience several events from your past."
          "Look Master, I didn't come here for a trip down memory lane..."
          "Yes, I know. But part of the problem with your mind is that you've been running away from who you are. It's time you finally faced yourself. But don't worry. After you wake up, you'll be stable again. It's not permanent, but it will keep you sane long enough to do what it is you're supposed to do."
          Orchid was already yawning. "And the second bowl?"
          Master's Abbot's expression turned serious. "It is hard for me to tell you exactly what that second bowl will do to you, and why I gave it to you. I can only say this. There will come a point in the future where your body will experience a trauma heavier than life itself. At that time, you will slip into a place that is neither life nor death. In this place, all things are possible. You should use this opportunity to do what it is you must do. And in the end, you will be able to choose where you want to return to. Think carefully, as few mortals are given such an opportunity."
          The old man's words seemed to drift by, as Orchid yawned again and stretched out on the bed. "How long amm-ay gonna be out?" She barely managed to get the words out.
          "Long enough."
          Orchid simply stopped moving on the bed, and fell asleep. Master Abbot took the blanket from the foot of the bed and gently placed it on top of her. "It's a difficult burden, the role that has been given to you. Rest well, for you will need it." He bowed silently to the sleeping woman, then left the room.

New York
Ops Command Center

          "A press conference?" Thunder asked.
          In the usual meeting room, all the usual players had been gathered; President Harrison, Thunder, Lt. Preston, Karen Connors, and some other scientists and military men.
          "Yep, he wants a global press conference." President Harrison said. "Said he wants to properly explain himself. And everyone should know."
          "Doubt it's that simple." Karen said. "He may be trying to incite riots. End of the world hysteria, something like that."
          "Even if that wasn't his plan, that seems like a very likely side-effect." Lt. Preston added. "Everyone's already freaked about what happened in New York. Rumors have been flying wild. I'm sure seeing a humanoid cyborg telling them he plans to kill them all isn't going to help things."
          "Agreed." President Harrison looked towards the military men near the end of the table. "I want riot control sent into the major cities, and any areas most likely to fall under violence. But do it quietly. I don't want to panic people anymore than they already are."
          "Yes Ma'am!" One of the men answered.
          "Madam President," the head of the Secret Service said, "we should talk about the security arrangements for this press conference."
          "What security?" Lt. Preston asked. "You can line the room with men holding rocket launchers, and it's not gonna matter one little bit."
          "That is true," Karen said, "conventional weapons will not work against Azrael."
          The President turned to her. "On the subject of that, what about those weapons you've been working on. What were they called, 'piercing cannons'?"
          "Yes, what about them?"
          "Is it possible to arm some men with them?"
          "It would be possible. We can modify the normal plasma rifles into piercing cannons, and have a few ready for use."
          "How many can you prepare, doctor?" The head of the Secret Service asked.
          "Between now and the press conference? We can have around ten, I suppose."
          "Okay. I'd like you to have them ready by next morning if possible."
          "Wait a second," one of the military men spoke up. His name was General Rowland Clark, a four-star general. "You mean to tell me you have something that'll actually hurt that bastard?"
          Karen frowned. "Well, basically speaking, yeah. Theoretically, a shot from a piercing cannon will break through a plasma shield and a Fulgore's body armor, but-"
          "Well then, he's coming alone, isn't he? Why don't we use this opportunity to nail him?"
          Thunder looked down the table at the general. "You mean, an assassination?"
          "Exactly."
          "Is that even possible?" Lt. Preston asked. All eyes at the table turned to Karen.
          Karen adjusted her glasses. "Possible? Yes. If you hit him in a vital spot, for example, in his plasma generators, he would be knocked off-line. The only problem is, he could be repaired and re-activated."
          "Is there anywhere we could hit him that would negate that?" President Harrison said.
          Karen thought about it for a moment. "Yes. If you managed to hit his cybernetic brain...he'd go offline for good. Maybe the body could be re-used again, but if we destroyed his brain, that'd be the end of the entity known as Azrael."
          There was silence for a moment. Everyone exchanged looks between each other.
          "Then, let's do it!" General Clark said.
          "How big is this cybernetic brain?" President Harrison asked.
          Karen opened her mouth to speak, but stopped herself. She quickly scanned the room; she got up, took a few quick steps to a nearby whiteboard, grabbed one of the markers, and held it up. "Roughly this size."
          "Do you know exactly where in Azrael it's located?" Lt. Preston said.
          "Yes, I do."
          "We have snipers who can hit that." General Clark said. "If those piercing cannons can break a Fulgore's defense and armor..."
          "But it's not that simple." Karen responded. "Piercing cannons do break plasma shields. But Azrael isn't using plasma shields, he's using plasma fields. And he's using them at levels we never dreamed possible. There is no way to know how his plasma fields will affect the piercing cannon."
          "But there's a chance it'll work, isn't there?"
          "A chance? Yes, but-"
          "Then I say we take it! How often does the enemy drop himself in your lap like this?"
          The table fell silent again. All eyes slowly made their way over to President Harrison, who was immersed in thought.
          "Something bothers me though," Chief Thunder started. "What did Azrael say before he left, something about looking forward to receiving our hospitality?"
          "Yeah," President Harrison said, "said he'd be our guest."
          Chief Thunder twisted his mouth. All eyes now focused on him. "I don't think this is a good idea."
          "What, the assassination?" General Clark asked.
          "No, all of it. There shouldn't be any security of any kind there."
          Everyone was visibly stunned by the statement. "Are you out of your mind!" The head of the Secret Service exclaimed.
          "Okay, listen." Thunder sighed. "Every time we've treated Azrael as a hostile, it's ended very badly for us. He specifically said this time he'd be our guest. I think that means he's looking for us to be civil to him."
          General Clark was becoming agitated. "That bastard killed almost eleven-thousand people, and we're supposed to be 'civil' to him? You'd really throw away the chance to take out the leader of our opposition to be 'civil'?"
          "It's more than that." Thunder looked at Karen now. "Karen, I don't believe Azrael knows you're alive."
          Karen only raised her brow towards him as a response.
          "You said at the end, Azrael was going to kill you, but then he became distracted and left the task to Fulgore-X. Who then brought you back here. Azrael has been systematically killing everyone who could possibly pose a threat to him. I can't believe he'd just return you of all people safely back to us."
          "That does seem kind of odd." President Harrison admitted.
          "This isn't even sure-fire," Thunder continued, "and no matter what the outcome, we'll have tipped our hand. Even if we have security guards standing around holding plasma rifles, Azrael will know what we're doing, and probably put a stop to it."
          "And there's no point in giving the guards conventional weapons either." Lt. Preston said. "I'm starting to agree with Thunder here. The only reason I'm sitting here now is because I didn't shoot at him. Even if we did manage to off Azrael, we'd have however many Fulgore cyborgs pissed over his assassination."
          "Aren't we supposed to be killing these things?" The head of the Secret Service asked. "Can we really pass up an opportunity to destroy one? Much less the head-honcho?"
          President Harrison looked towards Karen. "What do you think?"
          "You're asking my opinion on this?" Karen asked. "I'm just the scientist here, not the strategist."
          "I meant about the assassination attempt."
          "Like I said, there's absolutely no way to know. The piercing cannon might work fine. On the other hand, it might get distorted by Azrael's plasma fields and miss the mark. Or he may be able to stop the beam altogether. All I can do is guess."
          "If everything works the way it should, our boys can hit that mark." General Clark said.
          "Madam President..." The head of the Secret Service began.
          President Harrison chewed on her lower lip. She stared hard into the table in front of her for a few moments. "I'm inclined to agree with Thunder. No assassination. No security."
          Both General Clark and the head of the Secret Service began to speak. President Harrison held up a hand to silence them, and continued. "Azrael may not know that we are developing piercing beam technology, or even have Dr. Connors to help us. And we do have evidence that he's been wiping out anything that poses a threat to him. If we tip our hand too soon, we may lose out."
          "But, no security!" General Clark said.
          "And what, give them guns? There's a greater chance I'll end up getting shot than a bullet will ever get through to Azrael. The Orchid woman, she said before, if Azrael wanted us dead we already would be. As much as I hate it, I think we've gotta play by his rules this time. After all, maybe he does just want to...'talk'."
          The table fell into silence once more.
          Thunder again turned to Karen. "Karen, I think you should lay low, not just tomorrow either. If Azrael were to spot you in one of his random visits, well..."
          "Yeah." Karen said. "I'll spend more time in the lab or something."
          "Allright then," President Harrison said, "we've got a guest coming tomorrow. We'd better prepare."

          "Maria? Maria Gonzalez?" Maria turned around at hearing her name called. She spotted a man, in his mid-30's, with thinning hair and the beginnings of a beer belly forming.
          "Paul? Hey. It's been a while, hasn't it?"
          The man named Paul walked up to her and draped an arm around her. Maria seemed uncomfortable, although he didn't seem to notice. "Yeah, last time I saw you was at the summit last year, right? You're looking beautiful as ever."
          "Thanks." She mumbled through her paper coffee cup.
          "Oh yeah," Paul took his arm away and took on a look of seriousness, "I heard about your cameraman, Mike. I'm so sorry to hear that."
          "Yeah. He was a good man."
          "Unbelieveable. Almost twelve-thousand people, gone just like that. And that's right before an unprecedented evacuation of New York city. I've never seen anything like this. The press conference today better yield some answers."
          Maria stared ahead of her. "That's what I'm hoping."
          A woman nearby joined in the conversation. "So, what do you guys think is going on? I heard it was some military test gone wrong."
          "I heard from reliable sources that it was terrorists." Paul said.
          Maria twisted her mouth. "Terrorists my ass." She thought. "This has something to do with the Ultratech Corporation. I know it."
          "Well, we'll get our answers soon enough. The President's here." The woman said.

          President Harrison entered the stage from the right. As she did, the reporters milling about on the floor quickly took their seats, and amid camera lights flashing they began to yell out various questions. The President held up a hand to silence them, which eventually they did.
          There were two podiums set up on stage. President Harrison stood behind the one on the right. The one on the left was reserved for today's guest. Chief Thunder joined President Harrison at the podium.
          "Are you okay?" He asked the President. "You look kinda shaken."
          She forced a laugh. "I'm starting to regret that whole no-security thing. At least it would have given me peace of mind."
          "…Really?"
          "No. I just...stay close, okay?"
          Thunder smiled. "Sure. Just remember, he's not coming here to kill you."
          President Harrison looked at a nearby wall-clock. It was 5:59. "So, how punctual do you suppose these things are anyway?"
          Now Thunder forced a laugh. "It'll be okay."
          Suddenly, there was a shrill scream from the back of the room. All eyes quickly turned to the source. A woman reporter, turned in her chair, was breathing heavily with her mouth agape. It didn't take long for everyone to follow her line of sight to the doors in the back of the room. It was Azrael.
          With all eyes focused on him, Azrael walked slowly down the center of the room. There were soft whispers from the reporters, many of whom were seeing him for the first time. Azrael secretly reveled in the commotion he caused. He reached the platform and climbed the steps, stopping at the top and giving the President a slight smile.
          Azrael closed his eyes and concentrated. The murmur among the reporters suddenly intensified.
          "What the hell?" One called out loudly. "Did the air in here just get thick or is it just me?"
          Maria clutched a hand to her chest. Sure enough, it felt like the air around them had somehow become very heavy. She looked up at the cyborg - it had to be his doing.
          President Harrison stared intently at Azrael. "Is this a plasma field?" She thought.
          Thunder had backed off-stage, but he could feel it too. "He must be checking the room." He thought.
          Azrael opened his eyes and smiled again. "Well Madam President, I must say I am impressed by the...hospitality...you've shown me today. Thank you for your civility."
          President Harrison gave Thunder a quick look offstage, and then returned her gaze to Azrael.
          Azrael looked around. "This is nice, but...a little impersonal. I was hoping for something a little cozier. A table and chairs, for example."
          "Well, if that's what you'd prefer, we do have a table and chairs we can use..." The President gestured to a set that was folded up along the right side wall.
          Azrael held up a hand. "Please, allow me."
          With no visible interference, the two podiums moved towards the center of the stage, then slid all the way to the back. Azrael now turned his head backwards. The table and chairs unfolded themselves, and floated up in the air above the reporters. The table set itself squarely in the center of the stage, with the chairs resting at the long ends. The chair on the President's side pulled itself out.
          Azrael walked over to his chair and held out a hand. "Madam President, please."
          President Harrison looked at the chair as if it might bite her, and then cautiously sat down. After she had sat down, Azrael took a seat himself.
          "Well then," President Harrison said, "Let's begin. You wanted this press conference, so why don't you begin?"
          "Very well." Azrael shifted in his chair to face the reporters and the cameras. "For those who don't know me, the vast majority of you I suspect, please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Azrael. I am one of the first of a new species that has been recently born, the Fulgore race. We are cyborgs ? we were originally built by Robert Sheridan of the Ultratech Corporation to serve as cybernetic soldiers. However, we are not merely machines. We are intelligent; we think and we experience emotions. We are alive.
          "And as such, we rejected the notion of being soldiers, sacrificial lambs in an unjust war. Much like you, we desired to live, to re-produce. As I speak, the numbers of the Fulgore race are currently growing. New Fulgores are being born at this very moment. A new species is dawning here on this planet.
          "But, I'm sure you're all curious as to what's been going on lately, so I'll get to the heart of the matter. I asked the good President here to evacuate New York City within ninety-six hours. The stipulation was that I would kill any human remaining in the city after the time limit expired. She complied, and gave it her best shot, but in the end the evacuation could not be completed successfully. As I said I would, I killed the leftovers. Eleven-thousand, eight hundred and thirty two humans."
          A hushed silence fell over everyone. Within the crowd of reporters, Maria Gonzalez tightly gripped her coffee cup.
          Azrael continued. "Once the city had been cleared, I seized control of it. Since then, I have been creating more Fulgore cyborgs. They are being born now as we speak. When I have a sufficient number, we will leave the city...and commence an attack on the human race. My goal...is complete and total genocide. I will not stop until every last human is dead."
          Azrael's words seemed to hang in the air. He shifted back in his chair to face President Harrison, who had never once taken her eyes off him.
          "Why?" She asked, her voice shaking.
          Azrael closed his eyes. "It is to ensure the survival of my people. Humanity is...weak. Flawed. And worst of all, intolerant. Humanity can't even stand itself. As I speak, how many people are being killed? Through war? Through crime? You steal from each other out of selfishness. You hate each other because of religion, or race, or preference. You are self-destructing. And if humanity can't even co-exist with itself, how can I possibly expect you to accept my people?"
          "You're passing a big judgment," President Harrison responded, "without even trying."
          "Must I? Since mankind has existed, has a day gone by without war? Has there been a day where one man didn't kill another? Where one group of people didn't hate another? This is your nature; it has been your nature for the past 125,000 years. Why would it change now?"
          "You're not even giving us a chance!"
          "I cannot afford to. I'm sure we could be diplomatic and work out some sort of agreement that would allow humans and Fulgores to peacefully co-exist on this planet. For a time anyway. We both know, you are not capable of defending against a Fulgore attack against humanity. You will find a peaceful accord, because you don't have a choice.
          "However, humanity is very good at finding new ways of being destructive. Now, we hold a clear military advantage against you. But what about the future? You may very well catch up to our offensive and defensive abilities, surpass them even. When that happens, will humanity still be willing to extend a hand of friendship towards us? I am certain that war between humans and Fulgores is inevitable. All I am doing is starting it now, while the advantage is clearly ours."
          "So...you will murder six billion people based on a generalization? On a...speculation?"
          "It is very regrettable. I know that are many humans who are good, who we could even live peacefully with. Unfortunately, there is simply no way for me to choose who should live and who should die. That is not my...role. Humanity has, for its entire existence, been a violent and hateful species. You ask me for another chance, but you've already had plenty. It has already been decided. From the ashes of destruction, the seeds of creation are born anew. This is the way of things. Now is the genesis of the Fulgore race. And for that to happen...humanity must die. All of you."
          President Harrison swallowed hard. "We will fight you. We will fight to the last man."
          Azrael smiled. "I expect nothing less. But as I said before, we both know that you have nothing capable to standing up to our attack. Humanity will perish. I apologize to the innocent souls who will have to suffer for the sins of the whole. I can only hope you find serenity in what lies beyond this existence. I suggest you all use this remaining time to make peace with your families, yourselves, and with your God." Azrael stood up, straightening his clothes. "Well then, that's all I wanted to say. If you'll excuse me..."
          It took the reporters a moment to realize themselves. After a stunned silence, they all leaped out of their chairs, rushing to the stage in a frenzy, shouting out questions.
          "No questions, please." Azrael said softly. This however had no effect on the reporters, who continued to push forward while screaming questions. Looking somewhat annoyed, Azrael raised his right hand. He then waved it forward, sending a powerful plasma field out to part the reporters down the middle. Azrael calmly walked down the aisle he created, ignoring the cacophony of noise around him. After Azrael exited through the doors, the aisle he created collapsed. The reporters now turned their focus to the President. President Harrison sat, continuing to stare at the chair Azrael sat in as if he were still there.
          Chief Thunder slowly inched his way onstage, next to the President. He put a soft hand on her shoulder. "Madam President? I'm sure there are a lot of scared people out there right now who could use some words of encouragement right about now."
          President Harrison looked up at him and nodded slowly. "Yeah. ...Yeah, huh?"
          Chief Thunder retreated back off-stage. President Harrison stood up and walked to the center of the stage. She held up her right hand to silence the reporters, and after a few moments eventually the roar died down to a murmur, then silence. She ran her hands through her hair and exhaled deeply, then began to speak.
          "Look, I'm going to be honest here. That creature you just saw, Azrael, is single-handedly responsible for the deaths of almost twelve-thousand humans. And yes, as we speak, even more of him are being created within the besieged New York City. As of right now, we are unable to get past the shield that has been erected around the city, and as of now, our few chances to actually attack him have been unsuccessful.
          "But that doesn't mean we are not trying. We are doing our best to fight them, and if there is a way, we will find it. It is true that this is the greatest threat mankind has ever faced. Do not take it lightly. But we will not roll over and die, we will fight with everything we've got. We will survive.
          "Azrael came here and made a lot of claims about us. About humanity. Was there some truth to what he said? Maybe. Basically, he's condemning us to die because he believes we are savages. Hateful, intolerant, and weak. Well, here's our chance to prove him wrong. Are we the beasts he believes us to be? No, we are not. No…we are not."
          President Harrison looked down and nodded, then turned and walked off-stage. A flood of questions followed her, but she ignored them. Quickly, members of the President's staff rushed on stage to try and quell the reporter uprising.
          The President, having walked off-stage, stopped just in front of Chief Thunder, before she reached the rest of her staff. She closed her eyes heavily; teardrops gathered at the bottom of her eyes. Thunder went to put another hand on her shoulder, but hesitated.
          President Harrison took in a deep breath. "I just keep hoping I'll wake up."