The slick, black, futuristic car speeds silently through the night, arriving at its destination as dawn breaks. The figure inside the vehicle reaches out and flips a lever, activating a cloaking mechanism that makes the car invisible to the naked eye. As the car approaches a tall security fence, it leaves the ground and soars silently over the guarded barrier, landing on the other side, unseen by the stern, armed guards at the entry gate.

The car pulls to the front of a large cabin nestled away in Catoctin Mountain Park, more widely known as Camp David. Here, in this unassuming mountain resort, leaders of the world gather to discuss and conspire. The world's elite sit inside and play out the fate of billions as though they were playing chess. 

Inside on this early morning, the Prime Minister of Israel is just beginning to stir. In another room, the Russian president is already having coffee. In yet another room, the President of the People's Republic of China smiles his friendly, seemingly innocent smile at the young attendant who had drawn him the bath he had just stepped out of in the adjoining private bathroom of his suite. Down the hall at the very end, the young President of the United States steps out of the huge master suite, dressed in a perfectly fitted suit, his briefcase in hand and his advisor following hurriedly behind with a clipboard. The advisor chatters non-stop in the President's ear as they walk, making their way down to the dining room where the meeting over breakfast is being held.

The figure checks his surroundings. He eyes the security cameras placed strategically around the building. After waiting fifteen minutes and checking the time, he flips up a panel and presses a button. The power to the entire property, including all forms of communication, is shut down instantly.

The figure leaps from the vehicle and makes his way up the side of the building. With a crash, he swings, feet first, through a mid-level window, shattering the glass and landing deftly inside the huge, beautifully furnished dining room. He is met by the shocked and fearful faces of the world's leaders. 

Time stops. Not for him and not for the leaders seated around the dining table, just for everyone else, including the dangerous secret service agents who had already drawn their weapons and fired at him. They are excellent shots and the masked figure casually plucks three bullets from the air that were headed straight for his heart.

He examines them for a moment before dropping them to the floor. He lifts his gaze to the gentlemen sitting before him, stark fear and disbelief etched in their features. He takes three long strides and stops before them, feet planted and arms crossed over his chest.

The U.S. President stands shakily to his feet, his mouth open as he tries to form words. "Wh-who are you?" he finally manages to say.

He looks to either side at his armed bodyguards, frozen in time with weapons still drawn. The huge windows making up one entire wall of the dining room are allowing the early morning light to illuminate the powerless room. It casts an eerie glow over the figure dressed entirely in black, his face a blank mask and his cape rolling and billowing with his every move, seeming as though it was created from darkness itself. The emblem on his chest crackles and sparks with a green electricity that matches the glow over where his eyes should be.

"I am Father Time. You men are responsible for the torture and deaths of many innocent people, including children. I have come here to seek retribution. You must answer for the evil you have brought forth."

"Now wait just a minute!" Israel’s leader scoots his chair back and begins to stand up. "I don't know about my colleagues here, but I have no idea what you are..."

"Sit down!" the masked figure roars, his voice booming and echoing off of the walls around them.

Both the Israeli leader and the President drop back into their seats, jaws hanging open. If any of the others were planning to interrupt, they had changed their minds. All is silent. 

The frightening figure walks around toward the leader of Israel and stops just to his side. He stares down at the trembling man for a moment and then begins to speak.

"With you, I have a separate message. You are not a part of the evil that the others here are responsible for allowing to happen. Your sins are separate and rooted in false beliefs and an ancient war that has been the cause of billions of deaths over centuries that are countless. The war you fight over the land you believe belongs to you, promised to your people by a god created by an ancestor who had taken leave of his sanity early in the beginning of his journeys and his rantings. I have had the honor of meeting a true angel and he is one of my most trusted companions. He originates from the dimension where the true deities reside, sent here by them to aid those of us who have developed super-human abilities to bring the people of this planet back from the brink of destruction. Your god, the God of Abraham, is nothing but a glorified ancestor of his whom he deified and then projected his own insanity upon."

The Israeli leader stares up at the faceless face in horror and shock. "B-blasphemy!" is all he manages to utter.

"No. It is not blasphemy if the god I speak of is make-believe. Your religion is responsible for countless innocent lives for countless reasons over a countless number of years and it will be stopped. The Catholic Church and all of the sub-religious groups beneath it will be stopped as well. The true deities are not even in the same universe, much less in any close likeness to the god you people have constructed. He is only a projection of your collective consciousness, not a true being with one of his own. He is a tool with which your people and the Catholic and Christian people have gained control over those you have managed to ensnare. Wars. Witch hunts. Hell and damnation threatened. Destruction and fear. Insanity. The belief in the God of Abraham has brought upon our species all of these and more. These things are evil. The bloodshed in the name of this god could fill the ocean and you people still lay claim to righteousness?"

He glares down at the trembling man, keeping his grip on the passage of time as he speaks.

"Get up. Go. I have no further business with you. I will give you this warning, however, and I would advise you to heed my words. Start immediately when you leave my presence and make it your life's goal to end the killing and the suffering of the people in your lands. End the war and make peace with those whom you and your ancestors have been trying to force your false beliefs upon. If you do not use your position and every bit of power and leverage to bring permanent peace to your people, I will find you and I will kill you. Go. Now."

The man stands up, his legs nearly giving out and dropping him back to the floor. He scoots out of the room as quickly as he can, casting a frightened last glance over his shoulder as he crosses the threshold and disappears down the hall.

The dark figure walks over to the secret service agents and casually relieves them of their weapons, patting them down. He then pulls out their cuffs and secures them to each other, back to back. 

Time marches on. There is confusion and shouting as everyone is released. The secret service agents struggle frantically against their restraints.

"Be still," he says, quietly. Time stops.

His gaze lands upon the other world leaders still seated at the table before him. He walks around until he is standing at the head of the table where the U.S. President is seated.

"Scoot over," he commands in a low growl and the frightened man scrambles out of his seat and into the one next to it. They are all facing him now, each wondering if they will be alive when this is over. The most powerful men on the planet sit before him, awestruck and frightened out of their minds. They are frightened because they are aware of why he is there and they realize that it is because of the greed and selfishness that resides in their hearts that this dark reaper even exists.

"Are you gentlemen quite satisfied with your creation?" he asks in a low, menacing purr that sends a chill down each of their spines. "Each of you thought that you had the others outwitted and that you would be the one in control when everything fell into place. You all should have considered the possibility that conspiring with others as corrupt as you are would end in betrayal. You each had a plan to double-cross your partners and gain solitary control over the ultimate weapon."

They stare at him in shock as he reads to them their own souls.

"Yes. I know. I am fully aware of all that each of you are planning to do. It is to your misfortune that I have a plan of my own. That I, with the assistance of my sister and the support of a truly priceless team of heroes, have been a step ahead of you, stronger and more powerful than any of you even imagined. Your selfishness and hunger for power brought you to create me. Ironically, the only thing in existence in this dimension capable of overthrowing all of you and purging this planet from the corruption that you people have sprouted up from and are now cultivating."

The leaders of the most powerful countries turn sheet-white as he crosses his arms in front of him and draws his weapons. He arms them both with two subtle clicks and points one at the President of China and the other at the U.S. President. The President of Russia looks at his fellow leaders and begins to beg for all of their lives. Tears are streaming down his cheeks. The Chinese President has quietly wet himself and the U.S. President is shaking uncontrollably as he gazes down the barrel of a gun that his own funding helped to create.

"You are all sentenced to death for your crimes against humanity. Those you have already committed and those you have yet to commit." He slowly moves one of the weapons toward the Russian President who has begun wailing loudly, his hands clasped together pleading for his miserable life. "I am your accuser, your judge, and your executioner in this trial. You are all at my mercy and it is both your own doing and your undoing that I happen to have none."

He pulls the trigger and screams echo off of the walls, bouncing around the room. The Russian President collapses. He is unharmed, the bullet creating a giant hole in the wall just over his shoulder.

The frightening figure disarms and holsters his weapons in one fluid motion.

"You each have one opportunity to change the direction in which you are headed. I have spared your lives, because killing you would be pointless when your replacements will be no better than you are. Instead I have chosen to allow you to live. Not because I am merciful. Be assured that I am not. No, I have allowed you to live because I know that your fear will bring about change. This incident will be locked in each of your memories along with three promises that I will give to you.  If you ever bring about the imprisonment and torture of innocent people for your own greedy and power hungry purposes again... I will kill you. If you act in any way other than the best interest of the people you have been put into position to protect and lead... I will kill you. And if you so much as inquire after my, or my friend's, whereabouts, or take any kind of action against us... I will kill you. These are my promises to you and know that I am already aware of everything you do in the future."

He steps casually back toward the window through which he had entered. He turns to face them one last time and salutes. "Good day, Mr. Presidents. And good luck with your reformed leaderships."

With that, he disappears out the window, framed by the rising sun.

Time marches on.

The End

Author's note: The world leaders in this chapter remain nameless and are completely imagined. They in no way parallel the actual "real-life" men in these positions and absolutely no offense is intended toward any of the countries mentioned or their leaders. This book is a work of fiction and the characters, although very much alive in my heart, do not exist on this plane of reality.

(Okay, having written this final chapter, I now feel whole. It feels much more complete to me and I hope to you guys, too. Let me know what you think. Please vote and promote, too! If you enjoyed it. Thank you for keeping me company on this ride.)

(A/N: 1/24/2014 I have been considering a rewrite for these books. I am thinking about writing a first person version from Jackson's point of view, turning to third person narration when chapters involving Father Time or other characters are necessary. I would combine the two books, cutting out some of my long-windedness and some of the unnecessary details. It would be the same story, but have a different feel. I'd like opinions on this from those of you who have read both books. What do you guys think?)