Calder stood before the corpse of the witch he'd killed out amongst the field of rubble. He didn’t acknowledge her body or the blood pooling at his feet as he stared off into the distance.

There, on the far side of the field stood a single building and he watched it ever so closely as a small girl opened its door. She was dressed the same as the other two witches and Calder could tell at a glance that she had their same monstrous qualities.

In an instant she appeared before him, but he wasn't surprised by her sudden approach.

She looked towards the mangled corpse of the witch beneath his feet and asked a single question, “Why?"

Calder raised an eyebrow at the question, before answering with an uncaring tone, “She was a monster in the truest sense of the word. No remorse for her actions, no sympathy for what she’d done, and she was a tormentor of those weaker than her.”

Calder grinned, “So I did the only right thing and killed her.”

The small girl stared towards the dead witch a moment longer before turning her attention back to Calder.

“Not dead.”

...

Calder glanced towards the corpse, and after a moment of thought nudged the corpse with the tip of his boot. There was no reaction.

“No, I’m rather sure she’s dead.”

The small girl shook her head and pointed into the distance behind Calder where Michael was walking up.

She pointed towards his crown, “In there.”

A second later Michael appeared beside Calder accompanied by a loud crack and held his mace and warhammer in either hand.

He addressed the witch, “I heard that. Yeah, they’re probably in there. Assuming they have a soul or something similar.”

A slight frown appeared on her ever-present blank expression of the witch, “Disgusting.”

Michael grinned, “I disagree, I think it’s a suitable punishment. Maybe if they ever get out they’ll have a little more empathy for other people.”

She looked up towards Michael a moment longer before backpedaling several meters away from the two men.

Calder instinctively chased after the witch, but halted only a moment later as hundreds of small cuts appeared all over his body.

Michael had it worse, with his entire right arm being diced to ribbons and reforming in a cloud of spores.

The inexpressive witch watched on with cold satisfaction, “I’m a witch of strings, wire, fate. And I’ll get my sisters back if it’s the last thing I do.”

Michael focused his gaze for a moment and finally noticed the thousands of wires surrounding them. They were incredibly thin, impossible to see for a normal human and only possible for him to see thanks to his body's enhancements.

“You’re a crafty bitch, but…”

Michael took a step forward fully expecting to be able to pass through the wires unarmed thanks to his body's resistance to blades, when he heard the screeching of his crown scraping against the wires.

He immediately paused, a cold sweat going down his back. The noise of the thing holding his soul getting scratched wasn’t a comforting sound. He quickly pivoted plans and tried to teleport over towards the witch, but nothing happened at all.

She just chuckled softly in the distance as she took hold of two lengthy strings. She had a look of satisfaction on her face as she held them, like they were the key to solving all her troubles.

She looked towards Michael and Calder as she pulled out a pair of scissors from seemingly nowhere. She opened its blades and placed both strings against the sharp edge, and she finally spoke.

“Fate… is peculiar.”

She slowly began to close the scissors, “It loves at random, it takes at random, but it truly is anything but.”

Both edges of the scissors met the string and held fast. She witched eyes widened ever so slightly as she looked back towards Calder and Michael.”

After a moment she pointed towards Calder, “Unchangeable fate.”

Then she moved her finger towards Michael, “And a fate already sealed.”

She released the stings and they faded away almost instantly, “Disgusting indeed.”

Michael watched on with a feeling of discomfort welling in his chest. This girl, this monster, had just tried to warp his fate? Obviously not towards something good. If it had worked, he may have actually died.”

He began to chuckle softly, and then slowly broke out into a great laugh before ceasing entirely, “Do you think I'm just going to sit here and take this?”

“Wasn’t that what you were just doing?” Keith remarked.

Michael lifted his arm up and pointed towards the witch, tearing it to ribbons in the process as it turned into a mass of spores that rebuilt itself near instantly. Wires crisscrossed all throughout the limb, but Michael didn’t acknowledge them.

“Do you think you’re safe over there? Cause you aren’t. I’m coming for you.”

The witch cocked her head to the side, “Try.”

Michael grinned at the witch's declaration and began to take his clothes off.

…

…

Keith frowned from where Michael had set him on the ground, “Dude, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Keeping my stuff from getting damaged.”

Calder rolled his eyes at Michael’s antics, but watched on nonetheless. There were actions he could take, several that may be better than what Michael was planning to do, but why would he ever give up the chance to see him do something stupid?

Calder grinned, “Let’s see what you’re made of Michael; the monster who claims to be a human.”

Michael removed the broken sword necklace and tied it around one of the tips of his crown. He then took up a running stance, wires shearing through his flesh all the while.

“Yeah, let’s see.”

Slowly Michael’s body began to fall apart as spores flowed off him like water and floated into the air.

Then, with a final glare towards the witch Michael’s moved forward in a great mass of spores.

The plan was simple, break the wires. They were durable, that was evident simply by them being able to actually get through his and Calder’s skin.

But they were also dangerously thin, and even more importantly, he didn’t need to break all that many to actually get through. Just enough for the crown to fit would be enough.

Michael breathed outward, and the rest of his body dissolved into a cloud of spores with the breath. They moved towards the closest wire, testing its durability and finding it lacking. His blood solidified momentarily to cut into the wire, and despite the crimson liquid not having much actual weight behind it, it still left a mark.

It was the work of the broken sword necklace. Every hit would be one that stuck. So, with that Michael moved forwards.

The spores shot forwards and wire after wire snapped at Michael's approach as hundreds of blades made from blood slammed against the obstacles.

The witch grew visibly uncomfortable at Michael’s approach, and she quickly moved to do something he couldn’t perceive.

Then he heard Calder mutter under his breath, “No”, and her eyes shot towards him.

Nothing happened, so Michael moved onwards. Until he’d finally broken through the last wire barring his path and his spores coalesced back into his body.

Armor of blood covered Michael’s body, and in the next instant his fist reached the witch alongside Calder once more whispering the word, “No."

The witches body began to morph into a mass of wire and string as Michael formed a sword of blood in his hands and brought it down.

----------------------------------------------------------------

The president sat in the same small room he’d been sitting in hours before when somebody once again entered. He was a small man with dirty blond hair and pitch black body armor.

The small man smiled, “Hello Mr. President, I was hoping I could speak to Michael.”

President Smith eyed the man for a moment before interlocking his fingers and leaning back in his chair.

“I believe Mr. Stevens has already talked to your lot.”

The small man shook his head, “No he hasn’t. My name’s Neal and I’m with the Global Occult Coalition. My superiors believe that our goals and Mr. Stevens align and they’d like to propose an alliance.”

“Does every shadow organization in America have a key to this room?"

The president sighed, "And your goal is?”

Neal grinned, “The extermination of all the anomalies on earth.”

President Smith stared towards Neal for several long moments before his eyes glossed over and refocused, “You lucked out. I just finished up my work, but I need to make on thing clear. You do realize that I’m a walking mass of anomalies, don’t you. Exterminating all of them isn’t my goal. I just want the bad ones gone. That's it.”

Neal smiled in understanding, “Well hello Mr. Stevens, pleasure to meet you. Can I ask you a question?”

Michael waved his hand dismissively, “Yeah, but make it quick. I’m busy.”

“What dictates a bad anomaly in your eyes?”

Michael’s eyes narrowed, “Well I don't exactly have a method for it. Just whatever I deem to be bad, evil, a general threat. You get it?”

“So you’re the sole judge? What if you’re wrong? What if something you deem to be good turns out to be evil. What if you mess up and people die, what then?”

Michael leaned forward in the chair, “Then I’d simply intervene.”

A sly grin spread across Neils face, “Then how about we make a deal. We aren’t the foundation, but we’re well aware that you may hold some resentment towards organizations like ours. So we’ll make our relationship strictly business.”

“How so?”

“We’ll direct you towards anomalies that we’re confident you’ll agree need to be exterminated, and you can simply do what you want to them. Matter of fact, I already have a job lined up for you.”

After a moment Michael motioned for him to continue, “Well don’t leave me in suspense”.

“Do you believe in Aliens? Not some random space faring anomaly or bacteria, but an actual civilization that's sprung up on another plant.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed, “You assholes hid aliens too? You people give conspiracy theorists a good name, you know that?”

Neal chuckled, “That we do, that we do.”