Stern spooned a lump of sugar into the cup in front of her before giving it a gentle stir and passing it over to the man on the other side of the desk.

"I can't tell you how nice it is not to be making herbal tea again."

"She can be a little grating sometimes, can't she?" Brent Powers picked up his cup of coffee and took a sip. "That's great, thanks."

Stern leaned back in her chair. The skybox was empty of much of its furniture - the TCW carnival was already on the way to Buenos Aeries - but there was still a desk and chairs and the means to make coffee, which was the only thing Stern absolutely insisted on wherever she was.

"So it's my girl against your boy at Endgame," Powers continued, "it has a certain pleasing symmetry."

"She isn't your girl. You fired her."

"True, but by Endgame there's a good chance she'll be wearing my promotion's belt around her waist. Champion versus Champion."

"But that's no thanks to you," Stern pointed out.

"I'm an opportunist, Valerie. If Indigo is representing FWRFed in a TCW ring, then what choice do I have but to throw my hat in and support her?"

"I want her to win too, Brent. I want Darkness out of my fed. Should we both back the same horse?"

"I don't see why not."

Stern tapped her fingers against the desk. Her own coffee was untouched so far. It was late in the evening, after all, and she wanted to get some sleep. She'd heard ugly rumours about a TV special being broadcast about TCW the following day, and she had a bad feeling she might need to be awake to deal with the press.

"The problem is, I don't want Indigo to go back to FWRFed as TCW's World Champion."

"Of course not..."

"I want her to stay, and she can't work in both promotions. The schedule right now is almost killing her. So, after Endgame, assuming we have a new World Champion, I'll be pushing for Indigo to stay in TCW."

Powers's face darkened. "And will that be the case if she's the FWRFed World Champion too?"

"It will."

"So I see Road to Glory was just a warning shot across the bow..."

"You could say that. It was a prelude, to set up my...well...endgame." Stern smiled coldly. "I was never happy with the Board of Directors bailing Jackrabbit's company out, and I was even less happy with you eating up TCW's share of the market."

"You have to admit, we've prospered during your time away from America."

"You can thank Congress for that."

"Oh I do."

"I don't like FWRFed, Powers, and I don't like you. Hiring Indigo was my first step to setting up this whole situation: Champion versus Champion then FWRFed's World Title in TCW."

"You'd screw up everything we've worked for just like that?"

"What do you care? FWRFed has succeeded in spite of, not because of, you. You owe everything you are to your workers - people like Indigo. You fired your best talent, so can you blame me for exploiting that mistake? At Endgame, Indigo is going to become the Triple Crown Champion, Darkness will be gone and I'll offer her a long-term contract that will make her an exclusive performer for TCW. The Triple Crown Championship will become the top belt here, and FWRFed will be forgotten."

"So I guess I don't want to support Indigo after all then," Powers mused, nestling his coffee against his chest.

"It doesn't really matter what you do. Indigo is on course to trounce both Bathory and Darkness at our respective pay-per-views. This is the Endgame, Brent, and you've been outplayed. I win."

"Not yet, Valerie. Not quite yet."

They both fell silent in the darkened room as Powers took a long sip of his coffee.

* * *

"Welcome to 60 Minutes here on CBS. I'm Bob Simon and tonight we're investigating the pop culture phenomenon that is professional wrestling and its largest and best-known conglomerate, the entertainment colossus TCW Incorporated. TCW has been under Congressional investigation for several months now in connection with allegations of irregularities in their hiring procedures and the activities of its employees - investigation that has forced it to operate overseas - and now they're on the eve of their largest event in history, the Endgame pay-per-view, which features as its showcase performer the man who some see as the centrepiece of this whole sordid business: Darkness. We'll return to you after this short commercial break with the full story on TCW, and on its World Champion, the enigmatic Darkness. Don't go away."

The clock ticked, then the commercials ran, and then 60 Minutes returned with Bob Simon smiling at the camera, looking faintly amused by the whole business. This was not the kind of cutting-edge story he was used to covering. This was not news.

"They call him ‘The Man Who Walks Alone': he is an iconic pop culture figure, whose merchandise outsells not only that of his own colleagues, but also that of most other entertainment companies taken in their entirety. His last DVD, entitled ‘Death is Temporary: Darkness is Forever', was the best selling sports DVD in history, with demand swiftly outstripping supply. Kids all over the country - even the world - wear his shirts and mimic his actions. Is he merely a talented entertainer who has managed to tap into something primal missing from modern society, or is he a dangerous and subversive influence on children and adolescents? His act, that of a stoic and determined warrior standing against a tide of existential evil would seem to have much in common with the conservative sensibilities of family groups and the GOP, but Senator MacDonald is not biting. He has spearheaded Congress's investigation of TCW and specifically singled out Darkness as one of the most dangerous men in the world. Some say his almost fanatical pursuit of this goal has damaged his campaign for the Presidency, but it has won him the endorsement of parents' organisations who fear that their children are being exposed to the occult. Is this Harry Potter-esque scare mongering and overreaction or is there something to the bizarre rumours about Darkness? Our special report investigates..."

The view cut to a shot of fans gathering outside an arena in an unnamed city. Thousands lined up and, as the camera roved over them, they played up to it. Most of them wore Darkness or New Hellfire Club t-shirts. There were also Freya and Dante t-shirts in plentiful supply and a loyal minority of Strikmores in the crowd.

"Darkness and his cohorts have no shortage of fans," the voice over announced, "each time a TCW show rolls into town his supporters, or Darklings, appear in force. TCW is touring overseas, but many English-speaking fans have made the trip to foreign arenas to cheer for their hero. Some have left jobs and families behind, hinting at the kind of fanaticism that indicates this is more than mere wrestling fandom."

The footage showed a more sinister group walking the streets. Men in long jackets with bedraggled hair and smeared face paint.

"With images reminiscent of Heath Ledger's Joker, these subset of Darklings are something altogether different from the cheering youngsters who buy Darkness's action figures and DVDs. These men don't buy the merchandise - some of them aren't even interested in his wrestling matches - to them he is something more important: a symbol of a new world order."

The Darklings gathered, lurking in the derelict places of the world, standing like silent statues in parking lots and on rooftops. They watched with sleepless eyes. Not a community, not even a gang: a cult.

"Authorities in the various countries TCW has visited have variously classed these Darklings as a street gang, as a subversive cult or even as a terrorist group. They prosecute where they can, for these men - and a few women - are violent. Dozens of attacks have been reported already, most of them involving knives and even swords. Self-mutilation is common amongst these strange individuals. Often they carve scars on their faces which they then cover up with black grease paint. There are unconfirmed reports of ritual dismemberment, mimicking Darkness, who lost his left hand in an accident last year. But what of the object of their worship? Darkness hasn't released a comment condemning or endorsing their activities, and he remains as mysterious and elusive as ever."

Darkness stormed onto the entrance ramp, emerging through a blinding flash of pyrotechnics. The chants had started well before he actually appeared on the Twistedtron, and now they were thunderous.

"No one knows where he came from or what his real name is. All that he is, all that is known about him, comes from television. Some believe he is wholly a creation of TCW Incorporated, a sort of living corporate mascot, but if that is the case then why do they not exert more control over the actor that portrays Darkness? He has been taken into police custody on several occasions, but is always released without charge on technicalities or thanks to deals with his employers. Media commentators have suggested that TCW purposefully courts controversy by carefully crafting such situations but, if that is the case then why is his interaction with his fans so limited? Perhaps it is part of Darkness's mystique, that he has no past outside the ring, and no personality save the stern-faced warrior. The question remains: he is a man, or the embodiment of TCW's marketing strategy? Certainly, for over three years now, he has been a central part of TCW's broadcast storylines and one of the main components of their brand dominance. For many, Darkness is TCW, and that's why the Congressional investigation is focused on him."

"He's a criminal, it's as simple as that," Senator Stpehen MacDonald told the assembled reporters, "we know he has a criminal record. We know he keeps his identity secret. A man like this cannot, should not, must not, be allowed to operate in America as such a high-profile entertainer. Professional wrestling has hidden for years behind this veil of secrecy and fakery, which allows their performers to keep their lives and their pasts mysterious. But though this may be the land of the free, we have to respect the freedoms of the people, who have a right to know whose face their children wear on their clothing, and whose DVDs pollute their living rooms. We must know the truth about TCW and about Darkness, or everything our founding fathers fought for will be for nothing..."

"MacDonald has strong words to say about Darkness, but he's a man of conviction who claims to stand for the moral majority in America. However, dissenters in MacDonald's own party are warning him that he may be alienating the working class vote by condemning professional wrestling; a vote that the Republicans need if they're to overcome Senator Obama's current lead in the polls by November."

Darkness performed his finishing manoeuvre - the Darkness DDT - on some hapless opponent in front of his thousands of screaming fans.

"When 60 Minutes returns, we'll bring you a report on TCW's forthcoming event, Endgame, which will be headlined by Darkness and another of professional wrestling's biggest stars, the young woman known as Indigo. What role does she and the promotion she was once a member of, FWRFed, play in this bizarre story?"

Ticking clock.

* * *

It was quiet in Avellaneda. The Darklings had moved on already. Darkness, still recovering from what Dante had done to him and the events of the match at Havoc, sat alone in a bar. He wasn't aware of it, but everyone was staring at him in silence.

He drained the last of the bottle he was drinking from. "Can I get another beer?" he asked.

The barman nodded and Darkness reached into his pocket for money.

"Hey, why don't I get that?"

He looked up and frowned. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Brent Powers. I'm the Commissioner of FWRFed. I think you and I should talk."

"And why would that be?"

Powers settled onto the stool next to Darkness. "I think we need to talk about our mutual redheaded problem."

"Stern's not much of a problem."

"No, I meant Indigo."

Darkness sipped at his beer but remained silent. "She's not a problem either," he said eventually.

"See, I don't think you believe that. You know how hard she's had to fight to get back into FWRFed. You may not know her that well, but she's a very determined girl." He shook his head ruefully. "Her only shot at getting her belt...I mean, the belt...back was a pot-luck entry in a thirty-man brawl. I know she came in last, but she risked entering first, or any other number, to win it, and I bet she would have been in it at the end either way."

Darkness snorted.

"Oh, that's right, you've done that. Then you should know how much you have to want to win to be able to pull that off."

"And you'd know, would you, Brent?"

"What?"

"This match has nothing to do with you. It's between me and Indigo - it's my belts and my job on the line."

"It's got everything to do with me, Darkness. It's not just your job and your World Title - it's my job and my World Title. If Indigo becomes Triple Crown Champion, Stern will make her an offer she won't be able to refuse. Without the World Title, FWRFed has no main event, and without a main event there's no show. Everything we've worked for for two years goes to TCW with her. That's why I need you to win."

"I need me to win too."

"And I think I can help you with that."

"I don't need your help." Darkness got up and walked past Powers. The Commissioner of FWRFed grabbed his arm.

"I think you will. Did you see her at Heatwave?" He took a card out of his pocket and gave it to Darkness. "I'm in town for a couple of days. Call me."

Darkness took the card, shrugged Powers off and left.

**

"As the biggest show in TCW looms, we now take a look at the challenger..."

Indigo walked through the curtain out onto the ramp.

"For this young woman, the journey to where she is now has been a long and arduous one. She joined FWRFed, a subsidiary but autonomous part of TCW Entertainment, as their first and only female wrestler. She was phenomenally successful, capturing the highest accolade in the promotion, the World's Heavyweight Championship. But her reign, was brought to an abrupt end."

Indigo was in the ring at Revolution 2008 with Malaki as their Corporation enemies advanced on them. Brent Powers appeared on the stage.

"On this fateful night, this young woman's dreams were dashed, stripped of her belt and fired live on air. She had to leave her colleagues, friends and boyfriend behind as her work visa was revoked. After a brief respite though, she reappeared in TCW. Now labelled as Commissioner Stern's ‘Golden girl', she's being set in opposition to Darkness. Having proven herself as Champion, the upcoming Endgame match is looking to be close, but not everyone is looking forward to the possibility of a female world champion."

"It just ain't right." A man in a white t-shirt, red baseball cap and holding a beer was being interviewed outside an arena. "A woman can't be World Champ, how she gon' beat a man? It don't make no sense. It spits all over the belt's legacy. Might as well throw it in the dang trash."

"But Indigo has been World Champion before." The voice came from off screen.

"Yeah... but that was FWRFed. An' her boyfriend helped. Never woulda' happened without him. Now him.... he could be a good champ. Okay, so he might be a Canuck, but that's gotta be better'n a chick, right?" The guy gave a crooked smile.

"Mohawk didn't win the Road to Glory though..."

"Naw, but Indigo only got lucky comin' in last, and she was almost out, just Darkness is heavier so he fell quicker."

"So you don't think the fans will buy Indigo being World Champion in TCW?"

"Naw. She shoulda' stayed at home when Powers fired her. He was doing her a favour really, stop her makin' a fool outa' herself."

Indigo walked around a wrestling ring, waving at the fans after her TCW victory over William Shamrock.

"When 60 seconds returns, we'll look at the brightly coloured troupe that follow this young woman, the so-called ‘Rainbow Warriors'."

**
Darkness entered his hotel room and found a number of the Children sitting in front of the television. A wrestling ring with the FWRFed logo along the apron was centre stage. EMTs were helping someone from the ring. The word "Heatwave" flashed across the screen and it cut to a clip of a large man sporting a mohawk, Darkness suspected it was the man who'd just been helped from the ring, giving a short ‘don't try this at home' warning. Commercials started.

"Where've you been?" Gwen looked up from her seat on the sofa. Cai made her shift as he got up, grumbling something about replays and commercials.

"Out."

"You've been drinking."

"I know." He took his coat off and hung it over the back of a chair. "I had an interesting conversation with Brent Powers."

"Really?" Cai appeared at his side. "Did you get his..."

"No," Darkness cut him off. "I'm not asking him for you either."

Cai sulked back to his seat.

"So what are we going to do about Jason?" Gwen stood up as Cai fell into the sofa.

"Nothing." Darkness got himself a coke from the minibar.

"Nothing? But what about the Ring?"

"I can't do anything about it. If I do, I'll fall the same way."

"Right. So we're just going to be sitting about until Endgame?"

"You don't have to, and I think I'm going to have something else to be worrying about."

On the TV the Heatwave logo flashed up again, the letters aflame.

Back to the ring, now empty. The lights dipped, the stadium was quiet. The opening chords of entrance music and the crowd exploded.

"I thought Heatwave had been on already?" Darkness frowned.

"It was. This is just the replay," Cai said from his position on the floor. There was a very impressive pyro and Indigo appeared on the stage.

The match unfolded and Darkness watched with interest. He took a seat on the arm of the couch and bent down, placing his chin on his good hand. Bathory and Indigo went back and forth in the ring, until Indigo flipped over into a prawn hold, getting a one-count and monetarily halting the Champion's momentum.

"Nice move," Darkness noted.

They exchanged holds and moves on the mat for a spell, and Indigo hit a Japanese arm drag before floating over and pinning Bathory with a knee across the throat.

Darkness nodded to himself. "See how she used the element of surprise there? When you chain moves together like that it catches the opponent off-guard. They don't have time to react."

Peredur looked across at Darkness. "Are you enjoying the match?"

"I'm interested to see who wins, let's put it like that."

The action in the ring continued, but now Bathory took control with a couple of near falls before managing to land a Kryptonite Krunch.

"He needed that move," Darkness observed, "Indigo has the crowd on her side - every time he hits something big, she loses some of her momentum. He has no choice but to work against the fans, even though it doesn't suit his style."

"You know Bathory's style?" Cai asked. "Did you figure it out when you faced him in the Road to Glory?"

"No, I didn't even recognise him. I can just tell he's used to working face."

The match went back and forth, oscillating wildly, Indigo and Bathory taking control by turns. Bathory whipped Indigo off the ropes, then cut her off with a sleeper hold. The crowd audibly deflated as he dropped down to one knee, trying to knock her out. They were on the mat now, Bathory breathing hard and Indigo trying to fight her way free.

"Ooh, she's in for it now!" Peredur crowed.

"Have you seen it before?"

He shook his head and shot Gwen an accusatory glance. "No, someone wouldn't fork out for the live pay per view..."

"You think I'm going to order a wrestling event in a foreign country? Are we made of money?"

"He is," Ogier said, jerking a thumb at Darkness.

"I'm not, really."

"She's breaking out! Look!" Peredur was pointing at the screen and almost bouncing up and down.

"Of course she is," Darkness said, "a sleeper hold is just an invitation to your opponent to make a comeback. Wrestling is fifty percent theatre - you'd be astonished how much difference exploiting the emotions of the crowd can make. The moment Bathory put that sleeper hold on, he knew he'd have to experience payback a few minutes later."

"So why'd he do it?"

"Wrestling, like all conflict, is about risk assessment. Sometimes you sacrifice sure footing for a kill. Bathory was hoping he'd wear her down enough with the move to be able to weather the storm afterwards."

Indigo fought free and hit Bathory off the ropes before walking right into an open-handed palm strike that sent him crashing to the mat.

Cai nodded knowingly towards the TV. "You know what this is, don't you?"

"It's the shotei," Darkness said automatically, "Jushin Liger's signature move. She uses it well: the crowd expect it to turn the tide. Liger first used it against Shinjiro Ohtani in 1997 when all his other finishers had failed. He instantly established the move as devastating, despite its apparent simplicity."

"Uh...yeah...that's what I was gonna say..."

Indigo continued to press Bathory, scoring near falls with all her signatures, but not keeping him down. The Indigo Splash missed, and Bathory toook control, going for his own finishing manoeuvre.

"Did you know he named a move after you?" Eoin asked. She was sitting quietly next to Darkness.

"I think it's just a coincidence."

"You never know..."

He hit the move, driving Indigo into the mat, but it wasn't enough, scoring only a two-count.

"I knew she'd kick out. Bathory still has all the momentum against him. He can't pull off the heel role effectively enough to exploit the crowd's negative reactions for his own ends. He's trying to end this with his own moves - he should be keeping his head down and wearing her down slowly."

Cai turned around, clearly interested in Darkness's analysis. "You think Indigo will win then?"

"I'm certain of it. Watch."

The Needs-a-Name Brainbuster still wasn't enough, and it took another Shotei and a final, thunderous Indigo Splash to put Bathory away for the three-count.

"Told you." Darkness straightened. "Good match - but she won't have that kind of support in Buenos Aeries."

Cai got up too. "You know a lot about wrestling, Darkness."

"Well, I've had some success of my own."

Peredur laughed. "Is that a joke?"

"What are you implying?"

"No, I just mean... 'some success'? You're...I mean..."

Darkness looked at him blankly.

"You're big, Darkness," Gwen said, looking up from the Spanish-language book she was reading.

"Big?"

"Like Hulk Hogan, or Stone Cold, you know," Cai explained.

"I haven't been in movies or anything."

"That's only because Stern doesn't pass on the offers."

"What?"

Gwen nodded. "I'm serious. I don't think you'd be very good in a movie though. You can't act."

"I can't?"

"You're a terrible liar, and that's all acting is."

"This match," Darkness said, "looking sideways at the TV on which Indigo was now celebrating with her belt, "is there a lot of anticipation for it?"

"Of course," Ogier replied with a gesture at the screen, "look how rabid those Aussies are for her. Now think about what your fans are like. It's going to be a madhouse."

"Oh, I meant to ask," Peredur piped up, "do you think you could get us some tickets?"

"Uh...I'll see. I didn't realise that it would be such a big deal. The match, I mean."

"It's huge!" Cai said, throwing up his arms.

Darkness ran his good hand across his beard. "If even half those fans come to Argentina, winning this might be more difficult than I thought."

"What's the big deal?" Gwen asked, "You always win..."

"And I just told you why, using Indigo as an example. Wrestling is...like a game...you have to tap into the power of the crowd, exploit their emotions and use the momentum their support gives you. When your shoulders are on the mat, half of your will to rise is down to what the fans are chanting. Why do you think matches with unpopular wrestlers at the bottom of the card usually end quicker than the main event? With thousands of people cheering for you, you can kick out of anything. If no one cares, you'll fall victim to the first big move."

Gwen frowned. "So...the bigger the match...the harder the victory?"

"Precisely. With enough fans behind her, Indigo might be strong enough to beat me and, since, according to all of you, this is the biggest match of all time..."

The Children in the room fell silent. After a moment Peredur cleared his throat uncomfortably. "So...guess you'll be hitting the gym then, huh?"

"Not quite," Darkness said quietly.

* * *

"Indigo! Indigo!"

She blinked as camera flashes nearly blinded her. "Hey, I can't see! Stop that!"

The crowd at the doors to the airport backed away as the security team Stern had sent to escort her, led by Russell Simmons, pushed them apart. Paparazzi still shoved cameras in her face, but at least she had a bit a breathing room.

"God, I had no idea it would be like this..."

Midnight grinned over his shoulder at her. "Really? You're a national hero now, miss."

"Yeah, well, apparently. Christ." She shifted her belt on her shoulder a little uncomfortably.

"Kick Darkness's arse, Indigo!" someone shouted.

"I'll try!" she yelled back.

They moved through the Sydney Airport, pushing their way past small groups of people, some of them in red wigs, but more of them in bizarre rainbow afros. There were signs with her name on, some with peace symbols and rainbows too.

"Never thought I'd see a rainbow on a wrestling sign," Midnight snorted.

"Not even for Billy and Chuck?"

He laughed. "C'mon, let's get you on this plane."

"I don't think they're going to hurt me..."

"IN-DI-GO! IN-DI-GO! IN-DI-GO!"

The chant carried across the crowd and met an "Aussie, Aussie, Aussie! Oi, Oi, Oi!" chant coming the other way.

"I can't believe there's so many people here," Indigo smiled.

"They're all getting planes to Argentina," another security man explained.

"What? All of them?"

"They've had to put on extra flights to cope with the demand. That arena in Buenos Aeries holds a lot of fans - you don't want them all to be Darklings, do you?"

"No, I guess I'd like a few...uh..." she caught sight of a sign being waved aloft, "...rainbow warriors? Seriously?"

"So I'm told, miss," Midnight shrugged.

"Well it can't hurt to have a few dozen extra fans supporting me." They passed through the check out and into the departure lounge. Indigo stopped short and stared at the sea of drunken, wigged, flag waving fans that filled up the massive room.

"Dozen?" Midnight asked, "try hundred, miss. And that's just today's flights."

"Oh God..."

Indigo walked through the airport in Buenos Aeries, Russell Simmons right by her shoulder. They walked through the VIP sections which were largely empty. Through tinted glass she occasionally saw the regular travellers. They exited to the arrivals' lounge which was just a vibrant, noisy meeting place. There were plenty of rainbow wigs around and Indigo couldn't keep from smiling.

A commotion caught her attention, and that of airport security, who hurried past. She craned her neck to see what was happening as Midnight moved her towards the exit. She could see security men handling some youths. Rainbow warrior wigs were in disarray and face paint smudged. Even from this distance, Indigo could make out the livid scars under the eyes of the other group.

She paused and one of the Darklings looked in her direction as he was being dragged off, giving her a smile that was somewhere between a smirk and a grimace.

"We should keep moving." Midnight's deep voice brought her back to the real world.

"What's going on?"

"Just a fight between some fans. Nothing much."

"Does it happen a lot?"

He shrugged his big shoulders. "It happens."

They left the airport and got into the back of a waiting car, but Indigo couldn't get the image of the Darkling out of her head.

**

"You came to your senses then." Powers sat down and leant back in his chair. He didn't have an office, being neither a member of TCW staff nor there in any other official capacity. What he did have though was a hotel room with a table. Darkness looked around the room - it wasn't as nice as his own - and eventually sat in the armchair that had been placed opposite Powers for his benefit.

"I saw Heatwave."

"And now you're worried?"

"I'm open to advice."

Powers leant forward, fingers steepled. "Well, the way I see it, Indigo is going to have a lot - and I mean a lot – of support from the fans going into this match. Extra flights have been organised, did you know that? I bet Stern is wishing Congress would get off her back so she could have this show in the good ol' US of A."

"Extra flights?"

"There was so much demand for flights to Argentina from Australia that the companies arranged more. They know an opportunity when they see one."

"All Indigo's fans?"

Powers gave a small smile. "I'm sure you have a few on those planes too. But this is a problem for you – you know how she can use their heat against you. You're no slouch yourself, but is it going to be enough to overcome all those Rainbow Warriors? If it ends with you two trading finishers, you might as well flip a coin, and do you really want to leave this title match up to chance?"

Darkness knew what Powers was waiting for. "So what do you suggest?"

"Well," he lowered his voice, "there's a time and a place for fighting fire with fire. Answer me this, Darkness, can you work heel?"

"Heel?" He said the word like he'd never heard it before. "I don't think I can do that..."

"Sure you can!"

"I really don't think it will work."

"Look, you've seen your fans – they'll cheer no matter what you do. You're Hulk Hogan, you're Stone Cold. You have a momentum all of your own now. But you can play off Indigo's fans' hatred too."

"I suppose..."

"You suppose? You want to win, don't you?"

"No." Darkness stood up. "I have to win."

The scene was a picture of stately elegance and dignity. Mahogany walls, bookcases lining them with volumes bound in dark blue and red. An American flag hung limply in the background near an antique writing desk. The man in the chair opposite was paunchy, with a receding hairline and craggy, heavy features, but there was something about him that radiated a kind of magnetic power. Despite his age, his careworn hands were steady, clasped before him on his lap. He had nothing of the smirking frat boy, the good ol' boy openness that defined the current Chief Executive. This was old school conservatism: the iron will that made America powerful, if not well liked, on the world stage.

David Manning cleared his throat as the red light on the camera flicked on and the director pointed silently in his direction.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to RWN Review, where we have a very special guest with us. In a rare appearance so close to the election, we're joined by Republican candidate Senator Stephen MacDonald who has taken time out of his busy campaign schedule to sit down here in his offices in Washington with us. Sir, thank you for agreeing to talk to RWN."

"It's my pleasure, David."

"As I mentioned, this close to the election, it's rare for a Presidential candidate to sit down with members of the press and field questions. At this stage, everything you say and do has to be carefully measured..."

"Well that's true, David, but I don't want the American people to think that I'm all hyperbole and sound bytes. That's not how I've conducted my campaign and it's not how I conduct my life."

"No, not at all. You've very much campaigned on a stand of blunt honesty and straight talking. You make no secret of your religious affiliations, your corporate sponsors and your opinions on the state of America. Politics in this country has become increasingly polarised over the last eight years – some critics have accused you of fostering and encouraging these divisions. How do you respond to that?"

MacDonald laughed. "Any time someone accuses me of having ulterior motives, I say the same thing – you'll have to take me as you find me, America. I don't have any secrets, no. A lot of politicians have things in their past they want to hide, skeletons in their closets, but Stephen MacDonald is not one of them. If you don't like what I have to say, then don't vote for me."

"So you have no trouble alienating potential voters?"

"I'm no fool, David. Those turned off by my policies, by my rhetoric, they're the same people who'd have never voted for a Republican candidate in the first place. A lot of fuss is made over 'swing votes' and so on, but you're setting yourself up for a fall if you just try to appeal to moderates. Let those without clear convictions choose third-party candidates – Ralph Nader needs all the help he can get – and everyone else go with their hearts. I know that the majority of American people share my views, and I believe that the good will out on November 4th."

"But a lot of people, if you do win, are going to feel like they live in a country that hates them. Isn't this kind of polarising essentially saying that democracy in America is a joke? That if the majority doesn't happen to agree with you then all your free speech is going to fall on deaf ears?"

"Our political system is the greatest in the world, David. The alternative is tyranny, and I'd rather poll based on the majority than try to please everyone. We all have our own ideas about how America should be, and the best that I can do is interpret the will of the working man – the blue collar joes who made America the world's only superpower."

"Picking up on that...America is now in a unique position on the world stage. The War in Iraq continues, as does the conflict in Afghanistan. Senator Obama is clear that the best-case scenario is total American withdrawal from Iraq within sixteen months. You, on the other hand, have a rather different viewpoint..."

"Yes I do, David. I make no bones about my opinions: I'm a Christian man, and I believe that Islamic fundamentalist terrorism is the greatest threat to Western society since Nazi Germany. We're dealing with a civilisation – a word I hesitate to use when discussing the Arab world – that is fundamentally, diametrically opposed to America and its value system. This is a threat to our way of life."

"So with regards to Iraq...?"

"We will continue the Bush Doctrine of unilateral response to overseas threats as we see them. Iraq is not going to fix itself. We have a duty to bring the light of democracy to the Middle East."

"But isn't this a simplification of the issue? Is this a battle – a Christian Crusade or an Islamic Jihad, in fact – between East and West? Isn't that simply reducing a highly complex issue to its most basic facts?"

MacDonald shook his head. "International politics is always a complex issue. Am I saying all Muslims are terrorists and a threat to America? Not at all. But the Middle East is a region that breeds Anti-Americanism. The Arab world is obsessed, collectively, with the death of America. That's not to say that all the individuals within that world are – for example, Americans, as a whole, are freedom-loving people who believe strongly in democracy. But are there malcontents in America that disagree with this? Of course. Just as there are freedom-loving Arabs, so too are there freedom-hating Americans. But their society is geared to hate freedom. Those Muslims who respect the rights of others are the exception, not the rule. Now, you have to ask yourself, how do we deal with this situation? Do we go easy on Iran and Syria and these places that harbour terrorists and their ilk simply because of the few good people who live there too? That's madness. We do not forgive the sins of a murderer because he loves his mother, do we? The Arab world, as a whole, is a threat to America, and we have no hesitation in responding to that threat the only way we can."

"With war?"

"If necessary. Iraq proved that a pre-emptive strike is feasible..."

"But did it?" Manning interrupted, "Iraq hasn't been rebuilt. The proposed 'regime change' hasn't been enacted as was hoped by the Bush administration."

"Well of course not. That's not because the Bush Doctrine doesn't work – it's because it doesn't go far enough. We tiptoed into Iraq, not wanting to offend anyone, constantly checking over our shoulders for the UN's approval, waiting for the British to arrive and help out. What did you expect to happen? We're America: the world's only remaining superpower – we could have crushed Iraq in a matter of hours."

"Are you suggesting that the Iraq War should have been enacted by nuclear means?"

"There's more than one way to skin a cat, David. Whatever means we used, it could have been done quicker and better. But we were scared. We were so terrified of what the world thought of us that we made a mess than we're still trying to clean up today. If I'm elected, David, I'll personally see to it that the situation in Iraq is turned around. Military spending will be increased tenfold and we'll have thousands more troops in the country within months."

"But recruitment rates are down. Are you talking about another draft?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Suffice it to say that we'll take whatever means are necessary to solve the problems in Iraq and fully enact the hopes of the Bush administration. It will take time, but America doesn't quit."

Manning shuffled his notes. "Okay, so, moving on from Iraq and foreign policy, and onto domestic issues. You've received some criticism for concentrating on a religious platform and ignoring the economy."

"I'm not ignoring the economy, David. We've outlined a plan for dealing with this potential recession and we fully intend to make it reality if I am elected."

"But, here's my point, you speak with passion about a war against Islam..."

"You're putting words in my mouth, David," MacDonald smiled.

"What I mean is, you're very firm on how to deal with the Arab world, and about religious issues such as this Congressional investigation of professional wrestling organisation TCW, but when it comes to economy, education, healthcare and so on, you tend to brush questions aside."

"No, I don't brush them aside. I told you that we have a plan. I've talked about it at length."

"Does your plan go far enough though? Economist have said that..."

"Economists can pick my plan apart as much as they want. Do they believe we don't know what we're doing? You think the Republican party doesn't know about business and markets?"

"Well, that does bring me onto another point. One of the highest-profile corporate sponsors of your campaign is NovaCorp."

"Yes, that's right. And, deeply saddened as I was by the death of my close personal friend Tomas Novamori, we fully plan to continue with the support of his nephew and heir Lucien Novamori."

Manning nodded. "Of course, but NovaCorp was DanteCorp, wasn't it?"

"Yes, under its previous ownership. I'm not sure what that has to do with anything."

"DanteCorp was owned and founded by Jason Dante, who is one of the wrestlers for TCW. In fact, he's one of the wrestlers you've identified as a serious threat to American society and values."

"Yes, that's true."

"Isn't that a conflict of interest?"

MacDonald shook his head. "Not at all. It's just a coincidence. The hand over from Mr. Dante to Mr. Novamori was totally amicable. They were friends."

"I believe they were business rivals..."

"Of course, but that doesn't preclude friendship, does it? No, the transition from DanteCorp to NovaCorp was completely smooth. There's no bad feeling, no resentment. Mr. Dante wished to concentrate on his career as an entertainer."

"So your spearheading of this anti-TCW campaign isn't motivated by NovaCorp's funding?"

"I was a proponent of this Congressional investigation long before I began my working relationship with Mr. Novamori. It's just a coincidence, as I said."

"Okay, well let's talk a little more about TCW then."

"I'd be more than happy to do that, David."

"You've identified what you've referred to as 'rogue Satanic elements' in the organisation, yes?"

"That's correct. What you have in TCW is a sort of pseudo-cult. A group of performers who dress and act in a way that is highly contrary to Christian, and by extension, American values."

"But isn't it all an act?"

"Not at all. Oh, I'm not going to sit here and tell you that professional wrestling is a legitimate sport, but what you see on television when it comes to Jason Dante and characters like Darkness and Freya Green, that's real. That's who they really are. Remember that Mr. Novamori was a close personal friend of Jason Dante's. Their group, this 'Hellfire Club' is very real."

"And they're part of a Satanic conspiracy?"

"Of a sort. Christians in America have long understood that there is a dangerous undercurrent at large in the world – a kind of...uh...underbelly...of devil worship and the occult. There is a secret society of people – I'm not suggesting, you understand, that there's any kind of large-scale organisation – but there is an underground of individuals who espouse some very dangerous religious ideas. I'm talking about a cult of murderers, psychopaths and child molesters, who perform dark rites and worship various figures that we're going to call, for the sake of convenience, Satan. That doesn't encapsulate the variety of it, but it gives you a general idea of what we're dealing with."

Manning scratched his head as he shuffled through his notes again. "Well, you'll have to forgive me, Senator, if I say that this is a little hard for me to swallow. The things you're saying sound like...uh...like Jack Chick's famous tracts. Isn't this kind of apocalyptic doom mongering the kind of thing that's been coming out of the mouths of Southern Baptists for a long time now? Are you seriously suggesting that the End Times are upon us?"

MacDonald didn't even crack a smile. "That's exactly what I'm suggesting, David. It's controversial, but as I said at the beginning of the interview, the American people have to take me as they find me. I sincerely believe that Judgement Day is coming and, when it does, I want America to be the world's beacon. The Christian world needs a champion: a hero."

"To stand up to...uh...I guess...the Antichrist?"

"Exactly. I believe that he has already been born – that he walks the earth even now – and is just preparing to bring his plans to fruition."

"I see. And would this Antichrist come from the Muslim world, do you think?"

"I believe he is American, or at least from the West. He'll rise from within, and undermine our great society. That's when the Islamic Jihad will really be felt – when we're at our weakest."

"So, in a way, you're advocating a two-pronged attack to safeguard America's future? First, prevent the Arab world from rising against the West so that, when the Antichrist comes to power, they can't take advantage?"

"Exactly. For me, all these issues are connected."

"Even TCW?"

"Oh, very much so. Did you know that Jason Dante called himself 'Lucifer's Champion' at one point? I strongly suspect that we might find our Antichrist hiding in their locker room."

"Wow. Well, TCW's Commissioner, Valerie Stern, has actually been trying to remove these...uh...these Satanic elements from her company for some time now. If she was to succeed, would the Congressional Investigation break down?"

"Possibly. Although we'd of course want to question these individuals anyway, but TCW would potentially be safe."

"A lot of your campaign is built on this anti-TCW platform though. It's swayed a lot of voters to your side. Without it...that is, if Stern succeeds in firing them...do you worry you'll lose your lead in the polls?"

"I believe my platform is strong either way."

"But, still, you've campaigned based on solving problems in American society like this. If the problems disappear, you have no campaign..."

"We're confident that the American people are not as short-sighted as that."

"Senator MacDonald, thank you for your time."

"My pleasure, David."

* * *

"Just relax. You're going to do fine."

Indigo still looked uncomfortable, despite Stern's reassuring words. She shifted in her seat as the members of the press filtered into the room and took their seats. Her belt was set in front of her, which also embarrassed her, since this wasn't supposed to be about the FWRFed title.

"People need to know how big this event is," Stern had told her when she'd asked about that.

Indigo blew a strand of hair out of her face as she leant back in the chair and fiddled with one of the tassels on her sleeve. "I'm just not very good at public speaking," she said, not for the first time that afternoon.

"You think the other guy is? Believe me, I can't promote this match based on either competitor's charisma." Stern smiled, but it couldn't quite cover up the barbed comment.

"I know...I just think I'm going to look bad coming out of this. I've never done a press conference before."

"Don't worry about a thing. I'm going to do most of the talking anyway."

The press had settled down now and were waiting expectantly. The chair next to Stern was conspicuously empty and the moment stretched as they all waited. There was a cough from the other side of the room, but nothing else interrupted the interminable silence.

Suddenly, there was some kind of commotion from outside. The doors to the conference room opened and he walked in, flanked by more paparazzi and journalists. Evidently they had accosted him at the entrance to the building.

Indigo watched him walk through the scrum of media vultures who had all leapt up from their seats on cue, ignoring them all. She had needed a team of security men to get her through Sydney Airport, but Darkness just swept through the crowd like a hot knife through butter. His black jacket fanned out behind him as he walked, making a beeline for the table she and Stern sat at. He ghosted past them and then sank down into the third chair without saying a word. He dropped his two World Title belts in front of him. They sounded heavy.

"Nice of you to join us," Stern said.

"My schedule had an opening." He hadn't even looked in Indigo's direction yet.

Stern cleared her throat and stood up. She waited for the clamour to die down and for everyone to find their seats before starting to speak.

"Thank you all for coming. This is a very important press conference for us as the Endgame event in Buenos Aeries represents one of the biggest professional wrestling events in history. Just like Endgame 2005, before TCW was formed and I became Commissioner, this Endgame sees the potential unification of two great professional wrestling lineages. It's possible that the challenger, Indigo, will walk out with all three belts that you see here in her possession, and become the first ever Triple Crown Champion."

Indigo sighed inwardly and wished she were in Brisbane with FWRFed. Things seemed simpler there – back in the promotion that she still thought of as home she was the top dog. Here she was just an challenger – not top dog, but underdog – for a belt that wasn't that important to her. She'd gotten what she wanted out of this relationship, so why was Stern insisting on going through this charade?

"If the challenger would like to say a few words?"

Indigo looked up and realised from the emphasis with which Stern spoke that this was the second time she'd asked. She sat up and moved her microphone closer.

"Uh...I'm just happy to be given a chance to wrestle at the biggest show of the year for such a prestigious prize."

Everyone kept looking at her expectantly, and she knew they wanted her to say more.

"And...um...I have a lot of respect for my opponent. He's one of the greatest wrestlers of all time and a real inspiration. I'm hoping we can go out there and give the fans a hell of a show. I know I have some amazing matches to live up to, and I hope to fulfil the expectations of my fans."

She sat back, actually quite pleased. What she'd said was all true – it was an honour, even if she hadn't asked for it. And she was looking forward to it too. After her past experiences with Darkness, it would be good to approach him as a wrestler and not a... whatever he was.

Stern clapped her hands, leading the smattering of applause that followed Indigo's words. "And, Darkness, as the defending Champion, would you care to grace with a few words...for once...?"

Darkness looked up at Stern. He sat forward and then reached out with his prosthetic hand. There was a low whirring noise as it fastened itself around the microphone stand and then he pulled it across the table, rumpling up the white cloth that covered it.

"I do have something to say, actually."

His voice was low and hoarse. Indigo craned her neck to watch him, unsure of what he might have to say.

"Stern, you've made the consequences of failure clear."

The Commissioner looked momentarily embarrassed, as if she wanted to keep things like that on the shows, and not let them bleed over into a carefully orchestrated press junket.

"So I know what I have to do at Endgame."

"Of course," Stern said, recovering smoothly, "and I'm sure you wish your opponent luck at..."

"No. I hope she loses. In fact, I'm going to make it my business to see that she does. You walk into my yard, wanting to take my titles, looking to end my career, I have no choice but to expel you with extreme prejudice."

"But I didn't..." Indigo started.

"You and Stern have made your position clear."

"But I'm not..."

"And that's why I'm going to do whatever is necessary to win. Mercy is for another time and place. I will break you, Indigo, just as I broke Dante last year, just as I broke Infinity, just as I broke Rachel Hunter and just as I broke Shogun. There's no time for games any more, no time for 'good luck' and 'let's give them a show' – I'm going to walk into that ring and unleash everything I have against you. You have no idea what I'm capable of when driven, Indigo. This isn't going to be one for the ages: it's going to be a massacre."

Darkness flung the microphone away and stood up. He grabbed his belts and walked around the table. Flashes went off and the hubbub started again as he passed by but, just as before, he ignored all of it.

Stern looked down at Indigo, who was staring open mouthed after her fellow World Champion. "Well, I didn't expect that, did you?"

* * *

The three men staggered out of the bar and into the night. They leant on one another, managing to be more than the sum of their parts, at least as far as balance and coordination were concerned. Two of them were wearing rainbow afro wigs, and the other one had gone for the more traditional hat-with-corks-hanging-from-it.

"I come from a land down under!" one of them shouted.

"We come from a land down under!" his two friends echoed.

"Where women glow and men plunder!"

"Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder!"

"You better run, you better take cover!" all three sang together.

They collapsed in a paroxysm of giggles until one of them threw up his hands. "Aussie, Aussie, Aussie!"

"Oi! Oi! Oi!"

"Aussie, Aussie, Aussie!"

"Oi! Oi! Oi!"

"Aussie!"

"Oi!"

"Aussie!"

"Oi!"

"Aussie, Aussie, Aussie!"

"Oi! Oi! Oi!" they all chanted.

More laughter and the three of them made their zig-zagging way down the street. "Where's the hotel, mate?" one of them asked.

"S'up here...uh...I think... Mate?"

"Uh...could be, could be..."

"Well, if we don't find it, we'll have to settle for another bar, right?"

There was another Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, Oi, Oi, Oi sequence and they rounded the corner into the next street.

The three Australians drew up and their laughter faded as they saw who was waiting in front of them. Across the street was a line of other men in long coats. Their lank hair was in disarray and their scarred features smeared with black paint. The phosphorescent lights turned everything monochrome and lent them a ghoulish aspect.

"Hey, what's the problem, fellas?" one of the Aussies slurred.

"You are."

The one who had spoken stepped forward. He brushed his hair from his face and grinned grotesquely.

"We don't want any problems, mate..."

"That's a shame. We do." He lifted his hand and a knife flicked open. "Why don't we make you Rainbow Warriors Darklings instead?"

Stern put down a steaming mug in front of Indigo. "Well. That went better than expected."

They were in the skybox of the Buenos Aeries arena, Stern's office recently transported there. They'd retired here after the press conference had broken up.

"Not the way I saw it..." Indigo lifted the mug that had been placed in front of her: another one of Stern's insipid herbal teas.

"And what way did you see it?"

"I was just threatened with a massacre."

Stern waved away Indigo's comment. "No, that's just what we want. He's showing his true colours. By threatening you like that he sees you as a real threat." Stern smiled and drank from her own mug. "We have a real chance of you getting you those belts."

Indigo sipped her tea. She'd noticed the 'we' but also noticed also that Stern wasn't planning to do any of the wrestling.

"I wouldn't worry, he can't do any real damage to you without being disqualified."

"I s'pose." Indigo hunkered down into the chair, knowing there was a lot of very real damage Darkness could do to her before being disqualified.

**

The doctor stepped out of the cubical and pulled the curtain shut.

"Another wrestling fan?" A nurse came up beside him.

"Yes. Same as the others, knife wounds, this time to under the eyes." He handed her the patients clip board.

"This is the sixth one we've had this evening. Will they heal?"

"I've done my best with the stitching, he may still have slight scars after, but they'll be better than if they'd been left."

The nurse shook her head. "Why don't the wrestlers do something about this?"

"They probably don't care. As long as they sell tickets and merchandise, they don't want to know."

A trolley wheeled past them, rainbow afro clearly visible.

"There's number seven..." the doctor said, leaving the nurse and following the patient.

**

Powers stood in the corridor of the hotel. He shuffled his feet slightly on the patterned carpet. The door he was standing in front of slowly opened and a face peered around it.

"Can I help you?" the voice was female but most of the body it belonged to was hidden behind the door. There was something odd about the face though.

"Yeah, I'm here to see Darkness."

"He's not here right now." The door opened more, revealing a woman just as tall as he was.

"Well, I'm sure he won't mind if I come in and wait." He tried to barge past her but a large hand on his chest stopped him.

"You can come back later."

"No, it's very important."

"Anything wrong, Tilpin?" A huge young man appeared behind the large woman.

"No. He's just leaving."

Powers just stared at the mammoth man. "Have you ever considered being a wrestler?"

He rolled his shoulders and smiled lopsidedly. "Yeah, I could do that..."

"Galadd, who's at the door?" The deep, resonant tones of Darkness's voice came from a room further into the suite.

"I dunno, but he thinks I could be a wrestler."

There was movement and suddenly Darkness was standing in the doorway. The woman and 'Galadd' disappeared.

"What do you want, Brent?"

"I though you wanted my help to beat Indigo."

"I've taken your advice. Now why are you here?"

"I thought we were working as a team here..."

"We're not." Darkness tried to shut the door but Powers put his foot in the way.

"Ow, that really hurts," he said, pulling his foot away. "What are you going to do without me?"

"I'm sure I'll think of something."

"No you won't. You couldn't think of the most simple of wrestling ploys. You need me."

"Fine," Darkness conceded. He stepped aside, letting Powers past and shut the door behind him.

He who, by virtue of his strength, his ingenuity, his skill at arms and, most of all, by the will of the Antichrist, was the leader of the black-clad warriors listened carefully to the report of his lieutenant.

"Our soldiers have already converged en masse upon Buenos Aeries, Lord. More make their way there daily. Soon, the great bulk of our force will be ready to enact your will."

"Good. This fight, this...wrestling match...will determine the very fate of the world. In order to ensure it goes the way we want it to, we must leave behind whatever scruples we had in the past. It is time to emerge from the shadows."

"Then we will prey upon them openly?"

"Only on our enemy's followers. They will not raise their voices in support at this...Endgame..."

"Very well, Lord. We will depopulate the city if needs be."

The leader nodded and then began to laugh. His face contorted in psychotic glee, the two scars that rent his pale flesh twisting grotesquely.

* * *

Powers stepped into the gloomy hotel suite, still not quite sure what to expect. Darkness lead the way into the interior, his back to him. He wasn't wearing his jacket, just the iconic sleeveless t-shirt with the faded cross on the front that he'd worn on his meteoric rise to the top of the wrestling world.

"I'm still not sure what it is you think you can offer me, Brent," Darkness said, looking over his shoulder.

"You're not sure what I can offer you? C'mon...I'm Brent Powers, the man who fired Indigo – you want to destroy her? No one knows how to do that better than me."

They had reached the suite's sitting room and Darkness gestured towards an armchair with his good hand. Powers smiled and looked around, noticing for the first time that there was an entire entourage present, lolling around on sofas and playing with various gadgets. A few were gathered around a TV set, it's flickering glow illuminating their strange faces. He frowned at the high cheekbones, the heavy brows and oddly bright eyes.

"These are my...companions," Darkness said as he sat down and Powers did likewise.

"Uh...companions?"

"Yes." He offered no more explanation, but a few of the odd-looking people were now staring in his direction, wordlessly watching him. "Would you like a drink?"

"Uh...yes. Yes, thank you." Powers bobbed his head and then realised the information he had given was insufficient. "Um, what do you have?"

"Whatever's in the minibar. And I expect there's some tequila around too." He shot a glance at one of his friends – a tall man with white hair and a leather jacket – who winked back and then returned his attention to the PSP in his hands.

"Whiskey?"

"Let me check."

Darkness got to his feet and crossed the room, passing out of Powers' field of vision. Idly, he drummed his hands against the arms of the chair, painfully aware that he was now in a room surrounded by strangers, most of whom were looking at him. He tried to smile at a very tall and attractive blonde woman who watched him silently from near the doors to the balcony, but her withering gaze caused the foolish grin to melt from his face.

"Can I have your autograph?"

He whirled around in his chair and recoiled from the hulking figure crouched less than a foot away from him. The man looked young, with a shock of bright raid hair framing his wide, friendly face, but something about him set Powers' teeth on edge. His eyes shone unnaturally bright and reminded him of something completely terrifying that he couldn't put his finger on. After a few seconds, he realised what the young man had said.

"My...my autograph...?"

"Yeah." He held out a small notebook and pen.

"Why do you want my autograph?"

"You're the Commissioner of FWRFed, aren't you?"

"Yes..."

"Well I'm a big fan. C'mon, sign it." He pushed the pen and pad toward him again.

Nervously, Powers took the proffered items and, not taking his eyes of his freakish fan, quickly scribbled his name before handing them back.

"Is he bothering you?"

Powers looked around to see Darkness looming over him, two glasses in his hands. Except one wasn't actually in a hand, but was instead held in the vicelike grip of the World Champion's prosthetic.

"No...no, not at all. He's fine..."

He turned to smile reassuringly at the young man, but found he was gone. Darkness handed one of the glasses to Powers and, to his momentary horror, the Commissioner saw it was the one in the false hand. The whiskey was released with a dull whirring noise as if it were completely natural to pass something to someone using a robot hand.

"Thanks," was all Powers could murmur.

Darkness returned to his chair and sat down. "I'll apologise now for the quality of the liquor. Dante is the whiskey connoisseur, and he used to make sure my rooms were stocked with his personal favourites but...well...I suppose those days are gone now."

"Right. You two aren't getting on."

"He tried to kill me."

Powers nodded. "In the ring. Yes, I saw."

"No, before that. He blasted me out of an apartment block."

"W...what...?"

"I got off lucky this time, I suppose. Last time he did this." He lifted up the prosthetic.

"I thought you lost that in an accident..."

"Not exactly." Darkness took a gulp of his whiskey and cringed slightly at the alcohol burn. Powers took a polite sip of his own, and found that the quality was indeed poor. Still, he didn't want to upset his host.

"So, I saw the press conference yesterday," he said after a few seconds of awkward silence, "and I'm glad you took my advice."

"It's very important that I win this match."

"I know, I know. World Titles and all that."

"Yes..."

"Plus," he laughed a little too loudly, "if you don't win, your Darklings might rip this city apart!"

Darkness didn't laugh. "I've heard about that," he said quietly. "It's a problem."

"Oh, you know how it is. I mean, of course you do – you're British. Soccer hooligans are part of the scenery over there."

"These aren't hooligans."

"No, of course not. I just meant...well...it's just boisterousness from a minority of fans, isn't it? Some people get a little caught up in things. You're the kind of guy that impressionable youths can really get behind."

"So I'm told."

"I mean it – you have a real power over these kids. Indigo's fans are just Australians with a new hero. Your guys are like a...a...cult."

Darkness nodded. "As I said, it's a problem."

"Not a problem," Powers said, leaning forward, "an opportunity!"

"Excuse me?"

"Right now, TCW is the smaller fed, but you're raking in millions more dollars than FWRFed. You're iconic, Darkness. Your fanbase is fanatical in their support for you. I want to ask you something, and feel free to shoot me down..."

Darkness looked wary. "Go on."

"What is Stern really offering you here in TCW? Your job is on the line, your boss hates you and your only opponents are your friends. You want to recapture the magic of your first run? You need to jump ship."

"Jump ship?"

"I could give you a five year contract in FWRFed. You'd change the face of wrestling – run roughshod across the whole roster. They're nothing compared to you, Darkness. You could take them all on at once and win."

"You're flattering me, Brent."

"Okay," he smiled, "maybe I am, but just think about it. Inferno jumped a little while ago, and look at him now. In TCW he was a jobber to the stars, but in FWRFed he's a force. I know how to market guys like you, Darkness. I know what you can..."

"Darkness?"

Powers and Darkness both looked up at the man in the leather jacket who was crouched by a laptop along with some of the others. They had been joined by a young girl, perhaps sixteen or seventeen years old, with hastily tied pigtails and a top that didn't quite cover her skinny midriff. She looked at him with eyes that were entirely white except for a pinprick pupil, which caused him to shudder involuntarily.

"What is it Gawain?"

"You'd better look at this." He picked up the computer and brought it over. Out of politeness, he positioned it so that Powers could see the screen too. It was on the BBC's news page, and a headline read 'Rainbow Warriors strike back in Battle of Buenos Aeries'. Underneath was a grim picture of a Darkling's spread-eagled corpse.

"Oh my God," Powers said, "I didn't realise things were that bad..."

Darkness studied the picture carefully. "Can you make this bigger?"

Gawain clicked on it, bringing up a magnified image, and now blood was visible on the paving slabs, spread everywhere.

"Jesus...why would Indigo's fans do that?"

"They didn't," Darkness answered, looking up at the man he had called Gawain.

Gawain nodded grimly. "I thought the same thing."

"We need to go."

"Shall I get Llenlleawg?" the teenaged girl asked.

"Get him and everyone else." Darkness was standing now and grabbed his jacket from another chair. He swung it on, his disability apparently not causing any difficulties. He then pulled something over his shoulder and Powers cowered in his chair as he saw the pommel of a sword poking over Darkness's back.

"I should go..." he said, jumping up.

"You should go," Darkness agreed.

There was a knock at the door. All eyes focused instantly on the door and the woman who had let Powers in was already making her way there to answer it.

"Tilpin, don't answer that!" Darkness shouted.

It was too late. She opened it and greeted the person standing on the threshold.

"Hello, Tilpin," Indigo smiled as she walked in. She looked up and saw everyone mobilising, which caused her to frown. Then she caught Darkness's eye. "I wanted to talk to you about..."

The words died in her mouth as Powers stepped around the corner and grinned at her.

"Powers?! What are you doing here?"

Darkness lifted a hand. "Indigo, I can explain. I can also explain what I said at that press conference, but not right now."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. Something extremely important has come up and..."

"No, you're not going anywhere until you explain what's going on." Indigo folded her arms and planted her feet firmly on the carpet, blocking the door.

* * *

The Rainbow Warrior ran down the street as fast as his legs could carry him. Stumbling, he darted sideways into an alleyway, hoping to throw off his pursuers. There were spots in front of his eyes as, panting, he lunged down the alley and then came up against a brick wall.

"Fuck!"

Turning, he flattened himself against the brickwork and tried to get his breath back. Flight had failed...now for fight...

The three Darklings advanced on him, walking calmly. All three wore the same kind of tattered leather jacket and they all had mutilated faces smeared in dark paint. The leader pulled out a flick knife and grinned, displaying yellowed teeth.

"Don't tell me," the Australian man panted, "you're gonna make me a Darkling?"

"That's right. It's nothing personal."

"Maybe not to you..."

The Rainbow Warrior balled his fists and stepped forward. There were still spots in front of his eyes and he shook his head in an effort to clear them. Something changed as he blinked. The leader of the Darklings was gone. He frowned as his remaining two pursuers looked around, shocked. They glanced down the alley where the sounds of a scuffle could be heard in the shadows.

"Looks like someone's on my side," the Rainbow Warrior said with confidence he didn't feel.

The Darklings walked towards the sounds of the fight and then recoiled as the bloody remains of their leader were thrown at them. They danced away, teenagers again, and retreated back towards the end of the alley.

"W...what is that?" one of them asked the Rainbow Warrior.

"How the hell should I know, mate?"

A shape emerged from the shadows, stalking towards them silently. Inexplicably, it wore armour, but they barely noticed that as all their attention was focused on the creature's rotting, bestial face. Serrated teeth bared in a rictus of hate as pinprick eyes stared balefully at them.

One Darkling screamed and ran at the thing, probably hoping to scare it, but he was cut down in less than an instant as it decapitated him with one swipe of its claw, tearing his head right off and sending it skittering across the floor of the alley with much of his spinal column still attached. His friend stared down at his face, now looking up at them sightlessly and began to scream in terror. Abruptly, he was cut off as the monster leapt at him, sailing a dozen feet through the air and then crashing into him. He hurled him against the wall, dashing his body apart on the bricks. The last Darkling's skull was shattered by the impact and he collapsed into a bloodied heap.

"Fuck!"

The Rainbow Warrior cowered into the corner, lifting his hands feebly before him. The beast approached him, cocking its monstrous, bald head.

"What are you?!" he screamed.

"We are the Ordo Draco," it rasped in a voice like dead leaves rustling in a pestilent wind.

It cast its pinprick eyes skyward and the Rainbow Warrior followed its gaze, the saliva drying in his throat as he saw dozens more of the creatures crouched against the walls of the buildings that reared above him, in defiance of gravity and rationality. Far above, dark shapes flitted through the sky, silhouetted in the moonlight as they leapt from building to building, hunting, killing and above all converging on Buenos Aeries.

The crows gathered. It would not be long now.

Indigo stood her ground, arms crossed.

"I really should leave." Powers stepped forward but Indigo held up a hand to stop him.

"You're not going anywhere until I know what's going on."

"Indigo, I'll explain later. The press conference... it was nothing personal."

"Nothing personal?! You threatened to massacre me!"

"And I'll explain later. But now..."

"And what about him?" Indigo motioned at the still grinning Powers.

"Brent's here..."

"I'm offering him what Stern offered you." Powers grin grew wider as realisation for what this meant spread across Indigo's face.

"I think you should leave, Brent."

"I can't believe you'd do that," Indigo said to Powers, the pair ignoring Darkness. "You fire me for what happened with the Underground and then welcome him to FWRFed even with the attention TCW is getting from Congress."

"I'm standing right here..." Darkness reminded them.

"And you will be until you explain what the hell is going on. You're going to FWRFed?"

"I didn't accept his offer."

"But you really should. Think of what I could do for you." Powers leant against a wall.

Indigo bristled. "You wouldn't fit there. You don't fit here. You're an anomaly and I'm surprised you've stayed this long."

"We can talk about this later," Darkness said, wondering how much of the woman's words were hers and how much was Stern, "but I have to go. It's important."

"What's so important you can't explain what happened at the press conference?"

Darkness looked Powers and then stepped towards her. "It's something... other... that I need to deal with." He'd kept his voice low so Powers couldn't hear.

"Like what happened with Dante?"

"No. It's vampires. They're killing Darklings."

"Vampires!" Indigo said the word loudly, so Powers could hear.

"Yes."

"You're kidding right?"

"I don't kid. They're real."

Indigo looked at him incredulously. "They're not real."

"A lot of things are real, whether you believe them or not. I need to deal with this."

" 'Deal with this'? What are you going to do?"

"Kill them."

Even Powers looked shocked, which Indigo saw.

"This is what you want in your fed?" She looked at Darkness. "You're crazy. You're going out there with..." she saw all the weapons The Children had gathered, "spears?" you could do some serious damage."

"That's the point..."

Indigo was flustered. "I can't let you do go out there! You'll hurt someone."

"Indigo, please I need to do this."

"You're crazy... if you leave I'm going to have to...to... report you!"

"Report me? To whom?"

"The police? I don't know!"

Darkness looked at her for a long moment. "Fine. But you have to leave."

Indigo looked at Powers for help, but he was very pale. "They're right about you backstage. You need some serious help."

Darkness's lips formed a fine line. "Do whatever you think. But leave."

"Fine." Indigo spun around and hurried from the hotel room, closely followed by Powers.

**

They ran down the street, hair and tattered leather coats streaming out behind them. their face paint stood stark on panic stricken faces. They rounded a corner and came face to face with what they'd been running from; the walking rotten corpses, armour shining under the street lights. Screams could be heard in the distance, cut off with stomach turning abruptness.

The three that had been running skidded to a halt. They tried to run back the way they'd come but their exit had been cut off, either by the creatures that had been pursuing them, or by some of the others that were crawling over the city.

They huddled together with nowhere else to go. They were no longer the Darklings that had terrorised the other TCW fans, but boys – boys caught up in something they didn't understand. One of the vampires walked forward, the others following a step or two behind.

"You poor fools," the creature hissed, "you thought you were helping the Antichrist, but now you're going to help bring him down." The creature reached out a rotten hand to the middle Darkling. He winced, waiting for the cold touch he knew would come. When it didn't, he looked up. He saw the armoured body standing, but there was nothing between the high shoulders. A man with a long braid had suddenly appeared and was fighting the other vampires. The headless body finally fell forward, the weight of the armour bringing it down amongst the Darklings. They stared as the stranger removed heads and limbs of other vampires with a long thin blade. They'd forgotten about the creatures to their backs until one grabbed a Darkling by the back of his hair.

There was a whistling past his ear and a sudden scream from the creature as it let him go. A woman appeared next to the long haired man, crossbow in hand. The rest of the creatures fled, leaving the Darklings with the strange couple. The woman regarded them with a grim look, one of her eyes milky white and unseeing.

"I guess we'd better get you somewhere safe."

"Despite the deadlock in the Presidential Election, another news story is dominating the minds of the American people this week," David Manning said, sitting behind the RWN desk with a image of the Buenos Aeries skyline over one shoulder. "The so-called "'Battle for Buenos Aeries"' rages on as fans of professional wrestling rivals Indigo and Darkness continue to spread violence in the streets. Already the fighting has escalated from muggings and mutilations to full blown murder. President Kirchener, herself a native of Argentina"'s capital, has declared a state of martial law in the city and has placed the armed forces on standby. So far, the violence is limited to the fans themselves, and has apparently not spread to the local populace."

The scene cut to a view of the streets of Buenos Aeries by night. Police sirens could be heard faintly in the background along with the thwup thwup of a chopper passing overhead. Dark shapes moved across the road as a squad of riot cops, their faces rendered invisible by reflective visors, closed on them.

A reporter, wincing against the cold rain that showered the city in fitful bursts, ghosted away by the wind so it landed in irregular sheets, addressed the camera.

"The violence here only happens at night, when nerves become frayed and drink flows. It"'s hard to understand where this tension comes from, but it all surrounds the most inconsequential of events: a clash in the pseudo-sport of professional wrestling, albeit a high profile one. Indigo, the female World Champion of FWRFed takes on the mysterious figure known only as Darkness, who represents rival organisation TCW. The reason for these emotions running high? The blame must lie at the feet of Darkness himself, who over the past few years has whipped fans of professional wrestling into a frenzy with his iconic in-ring antics. Senator MacDonald has characterised the charismatic dark knight as a threat to national security and, if he emerges the winner of the Election, has vowed to clamp down on TCW. Perhaps, standing here in Buenos Aeries, his point of view is easier to understand."

* * *

"Stand and fight!"

Darkness held his arms out, daring the vampires to attack him, but they slunk back into the shadows, pawing at the ground with their ragged claws. He turned to Revenant and gave her a questioning look.

"What?"

"I think they"'re scared," Llenlleawg suggested. He growled low in his throat, making a quick lunge towards the vampires, making no appreciable difference to the speed of their retreat. "See?"

Darkness glanced sideways at the boy – man, now, for he had now grown taller than Darkness and put on pounds of muscle. "Vampires don"'t fear anything except their masters."

He walked down the alley after them and now they did pick up speed, then made wild leaps for the walls and starting scaling them, rapidly disappearing into the night. Darkness kicked at a garbage can, knocking it over and spilling trash across the rain-slicked floor.

"Why come here if they don"'t want to fight?"

Only the two other Shadow Slayers were with him at the moment. He had split The Children off into groups to better hunt down the Ordo Draco that were apparently infesting the city. Revenant looked up at the walls. "I could follow them..."

"I"'m not letting you go on your own."

"So what do we do?"

"I don"'t know. We can"'t kill them if they keep running away."

Llenlleawg shouldered his spear-stave. "They"'re killing your fans, aren"'t they?"

Darkness grunted. "Fans...yes..."

"Then maybe that"'s all they want to do. Not fight you – just the Darklings."

"You could be right. They"'ve had any number of opportunities to kill me in the past, but they won"'t do it while I"'m in the public eye. They only came here hoping I"'d loose."

"Maybe they"'re killing your fans to swing the balance in what"'s-her-name"'s favour?"

"Indigo. And you might be right." He turned around and let out a growl of frustration.

"Hey, Darkness!"

All three of them looked down to the mouth of the alley where Gwen had just jogged into view. Ogier and Eoin trailed behind her as she loped towards them.

"Are they running from you too?"

"It"'s like trying to catch smoke," she lamented.

"We need some way of engaging them..."

"Well we ran into someone who might be able to help with that."

Darkness frowned. "Who?"

"There are other Shadow Slayers here. Your friend with the one eye. What"'s-her-name."

"Marta. And she"'s here? With John and Jack?"

"And some others," Ogier nodded.

"Right, let"'s find them and try to formulate some kind of strategy here."

* * *

Indigo sat back in the tan leather chair on the private jet with which Stern and TCW had so kindly provided her. She was nursing another headache and there was no herbal tea to be found on the intercontinental flight. She had to settle for a glass of water. Opposite her, Midnight idly drummed his hands against his knees.

"You don"'t have to sit here you know," Indigo told him. Her eyes were shut but she could tell he was there. She used to think it was just one of those cute little things she could do, but her experiences with Darkness made her worry it was something more.

"I"'m supposed to be your bodyguard, miss."

"Oh just call me Indigo. We"'ve spent weeks together now."

"I think it"'s best to remain professional..."

She opened her eyes and fixed him with a flat stare. "Professional? In this environment?" She leaned across to the small table on which an Australian paper was perched. She unfolded it and held it open, displaying the front page.

Midnight shifted uncomfortably. "You know how it is..."

"I"'m finding out, yes. But have you read this?"

He looked away. "I don"'t pay much attention to the press. They aren"'t exactly friendly to our industry."

"This isn"'t about our industry. It"'s about Darkness. And me. This industry brought us together, but now people are killing each other because of us. Doesn"'t that bother you?"

"A lot of people are killing each other in the world," Midnight said, affixing her with a steely gaze, "there"'s a genocide going on in North Africa and little Iraqi children getting blown up in Baghdad. You stay up worrying about everybody that dies in the world and you"'re gonna lose a lot of sleep, miss."

She folded the newspaper carefully. "Maybe you"'re right – but this is something I feel responsible for. My fans are dying."

"I"'d take that up with Darkness."

"I will do."

She looked out of the window. They were already over the Pacific Ocean, on the way back from Brisbane. Renewing her FWRFed contract had been therapeutic, but what happened to Bathory at the hands of Inferno had dampened the mood somewhat. The events in Buenos Aeries only made her headache worse.

"You know, Midnight, I never wanted to come to TCW."

"Miss?"

"I competed her once before, in the Road to Glory, and it wasn"'t an experience that made me want to come back. TCW could keep its freaks as far as I was concerned, but then things changed – I lost my job and my belt, and I had to find a way back. Stern gave me that. She said that if I signed a TCW contract, she"'d get me back to FWRFed."

"And that"'s what happened, isn"'t it?"

"After I jumped through all the hoops, yes. She used me as a pawn in her war with Powers. I was only brought in to goad him into agreeing to the Road to Glory, which was all Stern wanted. As far as she was concerned, the result didn"'t matter. She got her buyrate. But when I won, she saw another opportunity. Why let me go back to FWRFed when she could use me to challenge for Darkness"'s belts too? It might finally knock him off his perch and, as a nice little bonus, she gets to promote a potential unification match. You think I wanted that? You think I cared about the 411fed and ECF Unified whatever belts?"

"You don"'t care about them?"

"I didn"'t. Past tense."

"What changed?" He cleared his throat. "I mean...if you don"'t mind me asking."

"We"'ve come this far, why stop now?" She caught him off guard with a flash of a smile. "I didn"'t give a damn about those stupid belts of Darkness"'s, but now I feel different. Because of him, my fans are being murdered. He"'s set his Darklings on them and turned Buenos Aeries into a war zone. I"'m a wrestling fan, Midnight, and what Darkness does is not wrestling."

"You"'re not the first person to say that," Midnight said carefully, shifting in his seat.

"I bet I"'m not. Because it"'s true. He"'s the reason TCW is getting investigated by this moron your country is probably going to make President. He might destroy this business that I love. I know he"'s destroying my fans anyway. The same people who supported me in Sydney, that is. All the Rainbow Warriors who made my story possible are the people the Darklings who made his story possible are killing like animals in the street."

Midnight fell silent as Indigo looked back out of the window.

"So I guess now you want to beat him, huh?" he finally asked.

"No," she replied without turning around, "I have to beat him."

* * *

Darkness looked down on a city tearing itself apart from his vantage point on the edge of a tall building. At his side was the woman who had saved his life more times than he cared to remember, whom he trusted above almost anyone else. But what she was saying made no sense to him.

"They didn"'t come here to fight, they came here to kill."

"But they"'re not Siring?"

Marta shook her head. "No, just ripping those kids with the face paint to shreds and leaving their bodies to be found. I think they"'re trying to pin it on the Australians."

"Makes sense."

"They"'re running from us and from the police," she went on, "avoiding any kind of encounter except ones they can win."

"But they"'re here in such numbers...why even come here if not to fight us? What"'s their aim?"

She looked at him, her good eye roving over his worn, craggy features. "You are, Darkness. They came here to kill you."

He nodded, understanding. "They"'re waiting for me to leave TCW so they"'re not taking out a public figure and creating a martyr."

"Exactly. And that"'s why your fans are being slaughtered too. They"'re trying to kill your cult."

"Cult? I hate that word..."

"But it"'s accurate. You"'re the Antichrist – what did you expect?"

"I don"'t know..."

"You"'re a religious icon, of a sort" she said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "whether you like it or not. And you made yourself into that by being a wrestler. I"'ve seen what you do and how you operate. When you were a Shadow Slayer – I mean, before you left – they used to talk about how you were destined for greatness. Everyone knew it. You were magnetic. There was talk of you forging a new Order, like Iron Jack did. Well, guess what? They were right. You changed everything, and you didn"'t even have to try."

"Everywhere I go, things change."

"Exactly. You"'re a force of nature, Darkness." She waved a hand across the cityscape. "This is just the start. The Darklings are going to keep following you, and the vampires will probably come with them. Cities are going to burn."

"But if I quit...if I end this...then I"'ll be killed, and the world will die with me."

Marta nodded. "You"'re damned if you do and you"'re damned if you don"'t, Dark"'. You hear about what"'s happening in America?"

"No..."

"The election"'s been held up. Too close to call, they say. But it looks like a man who wants to invade the Middle East and convert them to Christianity by the sword is going to win, and half his campaign is based on persecuting you."

"You"'re talking about this Congressional investigation, right? That"'s why Stern wants me gone."

"And you can bet she"'s going to want it even more if the guy leading it is the President."

"So you"'re saying I might be the reason America is about to plunge the world into a new dark age too?" He looked at her incredulously.

"You"'re the Antichrist," she repeated. "I don"'t think you"'ve figured this out yet. Where you go, chaos follows. You"'re remaking the world, Darkness. All you have to do is show up and everything goes up in flames."

"Thanks..."

"But," she put her hand back on his shoulder again, "you came here for a reason. This is destiny at work. The world might burn to the ground, but forest fires bring about new growth. You"'re the good guy, and nothing"'s going to change that. You"'re fighting on the side of justice and freedom, and I"'d rather you had the box of matches than anyone else."

"I don"'t want to break the world. I want to save it."

"Sometimes you save things by breaking them. Either way, I think it"'s going to happen. These are the End Times."

"So I"'m told." He shook his head. "What do I do, Marta? If I win this match, we carry on this course and everywhere I go turns into a war zone. Senator MacDonald becomes President and starts a new Crusade. The chaos continues until, finally, I"'m the only one left standing."

"But if you lose...the Ordo Draco come after you..."

"We can fight them."

"No. They"'re too powerful. There are more than a million of them out there, we"'ve calculated, and those are just the vampires serving Dragon. Who knows what forces Skaar has? Right now...the odds are not in our favour..."

Darkness gazed out across Buenos Aeries. The horizon was starting to turn grey, heralding dawn. The rain had slackened off now, but there was still a cold wind blowing, whipping his long coat around his legs.

"I prefer a fight I can control, not the anarchy I create just by being. What should I do?"

She shrugged. "Flip a coin?"

"I"'ll do the next best thing. I"'ll fight this match and do it fair and square. No tricks, no mind games. Let destiny decide."

"Darkness," Marta said with a small smile, "you are destiny."