War was more sedentary these days, no more rampaging and pillaging across the whole world. He had schedules and projections to meet. His office was the seat of his power and the center of his empire.

  The Master of War had become a Corporate Powerhouse. He was a Businessman, Executive master, and corporate Raider.

  "Sir, I am sorry to interrupt, but you have a Call," the new office page approached with a flashy cell phone in hand.

  "What did I tell you about calls?" War was More than a little upset at his day's agenda being derailed.

  "I know, sir," he was more submissive than normal "But it is him, sir," then he shifted to a whispered voice "Death."

  War groaned "Fine," he motioned for the phone.

  "I don't have time for your shenanigans, today," he said with no tact. "Get to the point."

  "I have a pitch, one that will be a great benefit to your operation." The master of souls was doing his best to be businesslike, and not at all like his normal mischievousness.

  "Send over a business plan, and prospectus and I will review it." War dismissed Death the way he would the nephew or son of an investment partner.

  "It is not like that," Death sighed, "It will require your direct involvement, and it will be Biblical."

  "Have you met him?" War raised the only question that Death was not expecting; A habit he always had.

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  "The Antichrist?" Death said in a sheepish tone, half asking.

  "Yes, Death, The Antichrist," War sighed "We both know the Apocalypse can't happen without the Antichrist."

  "War," Death Rolled what passed for his eyes. "We don't know that; it has never been proven."

  "We do know, we have the Edict," War was haughty. "It is literally carved into our bodies."

  "Yeah, OK," Death admitted, "The mark sets the Rules, But we have all Bent those rules before."

  "What happened last time you took a soul before it's time?" War raised the pointed question.

  Death growled under his breath, "That isn't the same."

  "Is it different?" War pressed, "All of his deeds are on your head."

  "Oh, come on, they were going to overthrow the Tsars on their own... we just helped them out a little."

  "They may have, but there never would have been the Cult of Rasputin."

  "OK, I get it. You don't have to rub my face in it." This was starting to grind on Death, "It's not like you haven't made mistakes, what about the Jacobites? Or the Scots? Are they grateful for that mess you laid on their doorstep?"

  "Well, so, maybe I bent the rules a little on that one."

  "So, just come join us. It will be fun." Death was recovering his flippant tone.

  "No." War answered flatly.

  "I need you for like 2 days, and we can get this thing kicked off." There was almost a pleading to his voice.

  "I said, no" War was not budging in the least.

  "Oh, come on, it will be just like the old days." Death was appealing to times that War had long since put aside.

  "That is your problem; Death, I have changed since those days, you haven't."

  "Because you can change, I can't; I am the only one of us who is immutable." Death set aside his usual tone and added one of complete sincerity.

  War was at a loss of words, he didn't know how to respond.

  "Just gimme one day," Death finally prompted after too long a silence, "You won't regret it."

  "I have dozens of warzones to tend to, I can't be distracted by your nonsense," and then War unceremoniously ended the call. He handed the cellphone back to the page and gestured to him to leave.

  There was a minor conflict brewing in Asia, Africa, and a dozen other places. War had plenty to keep him busy without Death's schemes.