[P] Ch 1 - The Four Horsemen

KAIZEN

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Before Jules, there was Kaizen.

Before Kaizen, there were many,

but none so strong as Wrath.

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The Beast of the Apocalypse clawed the ground and heaved for air. Blood filled its lungs, and dry gasps turned to desperate gurgles. Kaizen knelt down beside it. Sisyphus would be proud.

Tears welled up in the Beast's eyes. Kaizen's stomach dropped, though he couldn't explain why. He thought a trace of guilt, or perhaps even remorse, passed across its wretched face.

The Beast mouthed something to him that Kaizen couldn’t decipher through the mucus and blood. He drew his blade. Sorrow filled him as he went to work, but he realized the sadness belonged to someone else. Rukia?

Kaizen rose from his prey and brandished the trophy by a tuft of its fur to his allies. What used to be the Beast’s neck dripped steaming blood and drenched Kaizen’s clothes and sandals. Veiny eyes rolled to the back of its lifeless head.

Two beautiful women with emerald eyes limped over to Kaizen. They each wrapped an arm around the other’s shoulder for bracing. Another man, covered in jewelry, rushed to support them before they collapsed.

“Kaizen. It’s time to summon Wrath.” Greed’s golden necklaces, rings, and bracelets shimmered in the eerie light.

“No. We do this without him.” Kaizen pointed the decapitated head over to the raging battle beside them. “The Virtues will contain the other Sins.”

“How’d an idiot like you manage that?” Envy asked. Her injured right eye reflected Kaizen’s image like a mirror, but not her left.

Never the left eye. That one always cuts right through me.

“Everyone hates Pride, the fucking prick,” Lust said through gritted teeth.

“Kaizen, Lust and Envy are weak,” Greed said.

Envy pressed her remaining hand against the nub of her severed elbow. The mirror of her right eye faded and transitioned to the stump. It reflected the white world around them. “I’m fine.”

No. Best to remove you three from the playing field. “Then heal them with your fancy jewelry—”

“You’re gambling our lives,” Greed snapped. Lust suppressed a bloody cough.

“Heal them. That’s an order, Greed. Then come join me.” Greed scowled but obeyed.

The Seven Deadly Sins had clashed amongst themselves many times over the past few decades, but they always ended in a stalemate. This battle would finish the war, but Kaizen wouldn’t accept any liabilities during the final fight, family or not.

He turned his back on his friends while they healed, and he left them behind.

The endless sunlight of Purgatory beamed onto Kaizen’s broad shoulders. He approached the Throne Room gates, which stood alone with no structure to support them on any side. The twin golden doors stood fifteen feet tall and appeared to lead nowhere.

He studied them. Kaizen was the latest incarnation of the Seventh Deadly Sin, Wrath. And I will be the last. After envisioning these doors in decades of nightmares, Kaizen pushed them open without hesitation for the first time. They screeched against the white marble floor and traced a small black scuff arc in their path. Interesting.

Perched high above him, four thrones overlooked Kaizen inside the white, marble temple. Rather than a ceiling or dome, the columns supported an ethereal disk of the night sky filled with stars, the three moons, and a floating globe tilted on its axis. If what the Magi say is true, Rukia, that actually is the Earth.

The Fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse had already abandoned his throne. He floated above the ground and beneath the Earth. Kaizen studied him for any sign of vulnerability. The other three Horsemen, still perched on their monolithic thrones, shifted their attention to the intruder.

But not Death, the heartless bastard. Earth had captured his sole attention.

Famine slouched to one side of her throne and rested her head upon a bony hand. She would have pressed the skin of her cheek against her clenched fist, were her flesh not so taut and rotted away. Her time of plague long since passed, she sat, bored, awaiting the next Rebirth. As always, she wore sparse clothing to showcase her hollowed ribs while her hip bones jutted past her exposed and protruding vertebrae.

Looks like Pride didn’t get her pregnant after all , Rukia thought. Her words echoed in Kaizen’s mind, but he ignored her poor timing for humor.

Conquest gazed down upon Kaizen with mild inconvenience. As far as he was concerned, the war was over, his enemies vanquished.

He looks like the type of general who inherited his position, Rukia thought again. B-because he is. Get it?

I didn’t laugh at your first joke. I won’t laugh at this one. Be serious, Kaizen replied. His eyes rested on Conquest’s missing arm, and he grinned, reminiscing.

Then why’re you smiling, Little One? the fox asked.

Not because of you , Kaizen thought. Something I did while you were…gone.

Kaizen sensed her scoff at both him and Conquest. Always adorned in the finest imperial armor and regalia. Impractical fool.

He’s the least dangerous, yes, but why do he and Famine seem so…bored? He looked down at his own robes. Wait, that insult wasn't meant for me, was it? Rukia's cackling filled his mind.

Kaizen shifted his attention to The Third Horsemen, the only one he still respected. With a grin and a gleam in his eye, War stared past Kaizen with intense focus. Curious, Kaizen turned around. The twin doors he’d entered the temple through were gone. Instead, he could see the infinite marbled expanse of Purgatory and the battle between the Holy Virtues and the Deadly Sins behind him. Greed, Lust, and Envy had been dragged back into it and teamed up against Pride while the Virtues battled Sloth and Gluttony.

War was built like a smithy; thick arms, thick wrists, and a thick chest. Scars engulfed his body, with many covered up by his unkempt, auburn hair and massive, braided beard which crept past his navel.

This guy never wears a shirt, Rukia thought.

At least he’s distracted . Kaizen ripped his katana from its sheath and stepped further into the temple. He glared at Death again. His blood boiled. Kaizen snorted two deep breaths to calm his rage.

Getting too angry this close to Death—

I know, Rukia, quiet. I’ll keep him at bay.

Death ignored Kaizen. Kaizen and Death had met before, but not in The Horseman’s ascended form, so he studied Death’s newest features. Now eight feet tall, Death appeared more inhuman than Famine. The flesh on his face flayed backwards to his scalp and ears to reveal teeth, nasal cavities, and eye sockets; all smooth, white bone. His ghostly hood shifted and breathed like smoke or mist and shrouded most of his hideous face, thank Kami.

Death reached up one bony finger towards Earth*.* A soft white stream of energy swirled out of the Earth and into his finger.

“It’s over, Death.” Kaizen approached the center of the temple. “We’ve usurped your Harlot, slayed the Beast, and—”

“And we’ve opened your Sealsss,” Famine hissed. Kaizen’s arm hair shot up. Her voice was shrill and dripped with acid, as if her spit itself were toxic.

“Setbacks were…inevitable.” Kaizen gestured back towards the civil war. “Your army lies fractured, though.”

Death granted Kaizen a most uninterested glance before turning back to his task at hand.

Arrogant prick, always looking at us like ants. Kaizen polished his blade with his bare hand to remove the last drops of the Beast’s blood from it.

“For how many more ages will you serve as his lapdog, Conquest?”

“I serve no one but the laws of Fate,” Conquest snapped. “A commoner piece of trash like yourself can’t comprehend a life without servitude to others, to other people , whereas we answer to higher powers. You exist solely to serve us, of—”

“You know,” Kaizen waved a hand through the air to swat away yet another rambling tirade. “I heard you’d’ve paid an arm and a leg to win your last campaign. Guess you got a deal.” Kaizen waited.

Well, that certainly shut him up, Rukia thought.

“And Famine,” he continued. “How long will you let yourself be starved and plagued by Death? Unless of course, you’re into that whole maso—”

Famine shot out of her throne and unfurled massive black wings, each ten feet in span. One was covered in mottled, rotting feathers. The other was mostly just bone, with some scorched leather clinging on for dear life. Kaizen squeezed his sword grip.

“Know your place, Sin,” Famine said. Beneath her, Death continued to drain the world. “You were given free will to a point. You are free to suffer the consssequences of your actions, but no one has the power to defy Fate.”

As she spoke, a lone black feather floated down. It boiled with rot and plague and drifted carelessly toward Kaizen.

“Oh, but there is a way to change every event.” The feather floated within feet of Kaizen. “To prevent it from happening, to change its outcome. You’d be surprised at what I’ve learned this Cycle.”

He lobbed the Beast’s head at the feather. They ignited into flames on contact. The resulting inferno splattered onto the bottom step of a staircase that led up to the thrones. It burned away at the white marble like acid and hissed like Famine’s speech.

“See? Nothing can last forever. Not even this temple.” Kaizen reveled in every opportunity to talk down to this old bag.

“And, War, how many more Cycles will you let Death prematurely end your global conflicts? Surely you feel how we feel.” Kaizen gestured towards the rebellion behind him. War smirked. Kaizen ascended the staircase, careful to avoid the smoldering remains. Conquest rose to his feet and drew his silver-and-gold warhammer.

Clumsy with just one arm, aren’t you?

“You dare lay foot on the Altar of the Gods!?” Conquest shouted.

“Your kind is forbidden from this holy space!” Famine wrenched out twin short swords from the bones of her wings. “Your very presence, it desssecrates me. I will plague you and your entire family in the next incarnation for this blasphemy and—”

“You will both permit The Seventh’s approach.”

Famine and Conquest both balked at War. Famine’s contorted face betrayed her bloodlust. Conquest’s betrayed his noble bloodline until he remembered to shut his gaping mouth. War slouched back into his throne and stretched out his legs before him with a smug grin. With his hand on the pommel, War wobbled around his battle ax. The edges of its two heads chiseled the white marble with each rotation.

It appears he agrees with our sentiments, Rukia. She growled back.

“If you two are of such faith,” War continued, “then you shouldn’t fear a Sin squaring off against the most powerful Horseman. Or would you? For Kami’s sake, shut yer fuckin’ gaper, Conquest.” Conquest shut his fucking mouth. “Call me sentimental, but I’d really like to see more carnage before I hibernate for millennia…”

“...And if either one of you interfere,” War stroked one long tug on his braided beard with his free hand and smiled warmly, “I’ll collect yer fuckin’ head.” Conquest sat down. Famine lingered for a moment, then snapped her wings shut so fast a gust of wind blew Kaizen’s long crimson hair in his eyes. He swept it back behind him and regained his vision, and she now sat on her throne, too.

That went surprisingly well, Little One.

All the pieces are out of play and now it’s just us on the board. Kaizen gave War a subtle, customary bow of respect, then ascended the final steps to the Altar with his katana, the Sound of Fury, still drawn. He halted ten paces from Death and the Earth.

“Death, I know you’re listening, you bastard. I challenge you to a duel of honor.”

He received no response. Fine. To Hell with honor.

Kaizen’s eyes lit with scarlet fire, and he slashed the Sound at Death. As he swung, the metal blade stretched and contorted until it became a flaming whip that wrapped around Death’s finger and snapped the entire hand from its body. Death’s sapping life-stream of Earth fizzled out with it.

The Horseman glanced at Kaizen, still uninterested and clearly unthreatened. He lifted his other hand toward the globe, and the stream resumed. Kaizen lashed his whip again and dismembered Death’s other arm.

Death tilted his head toward the globe, unfurled a massive tongue, and literally sucked out the Earth’s soul.

Conquest and Famine remain seated , Rukia thought. I’m ready to hunt .

Kaizen studied Death as his limbs reformed from his cloak’s black mist. His Regeneration still takes a few precious seconds.

Kaizen sprinted at Death—in another flash of fiery fury, the Sound transformed back into a katana, still ablaze. He hacked and slashed Death to pieces. He’s not even bothering to dodge, just pulling his limbs back into the mist as they fall. Speeding up his Regeneration won’t help, though.

Rukia remained silent.

The onslaught continued until Death retreated from the globe and became as ethereal as the night sky above them.

“You’ve nothing to say to me!?” Kaizen raised the Sound of Fury into a defensive position and circled his prey. “You killed my master, you killed my best friend. Now you want to kill everyone who’s left? Fight me. Fight!”

Still, Death stared silently. He healed himself while ethereal—*a new skill—*but Kaizen suspected that Death hesitated to fight for some other reason. Though enraged to be ignored, Kaizen knew his makeshift plan was working. Death returned to flesh and blood, and Kaizen delivered him a flurry of attacks to push The Horseman away from the globe. Death dodged each attack now, but after a dozen, Kaizen had gained enough distance.

“Rukia!”

Kaizen’s Familiar, a hefty red and white fox the size and build of a tiger, emerged from the shadows of the Altar. She leapt up towards the globe and bit it like a chew toy with her sharp fangs. Rukia thrashed the globe about, as if to break her prey’s neck, then she skulked off toward the battle behind them. Kaizen stepped between the fleeing fox and Death.

Famine again shot to her feet. Conquest hesitated but grabbed his warhammer. War yawned and, as he stretched his arms out, lifted his colossal battle ax in the air with a single hand. He cracked his neck, and Famine returned to her seat.

Death retreated from Kaizen and reached an arm behind his shoulder to draw his blade. Time slowed down for Kaizen. This is it, Rukia. Good work.

Death slashed the weapon's barren shaft down to his side. His black, misty cloak ripped away with the shaft and reassembled itself into the ghastly blade of his scythe, the Grim Reaper. The blade materialized in the shape of a massive, black wing.

The wing of a fallen angel. How appropriate.

Before the scythe’s construction was finished, Kaizen shifted his katana into a massive greatsword and crashed it down over Death’s head. The Horseman blocked the attack with just the flat of his scythe’s blade, mere inches from his exposed nasal cavities.

At last, Kaizen found himself in the endgame of a decades-long chess match. Nothing would be left behind. Rukia had escaped with the globe, and War, too invested in watching this fight, had detained Famine and Conquest. Kaizen could stop thinking about strategy, about what was lurking in the shadows, and focus solely on what stood before him. In the way of everything he’d ever wanted, and everyone he’d ever loved.

Kaizen slashed and sliced at Death in an all-out assault. Death barely blocked and parried each strike, but The Horseman gained his footing with each deflection. With each blow, Kaizen fed into his anger at being born a Sin, into his hatred for The Horseman he fought, and into his inner wrath. The flames around his eyes transitioned from scarlet into a fierce, glowing white.

“Let’s see if you can withstand this—”

«« Flames of Hell »»

Kaizen’s entire body erupted into white flames, and every strike carried the rending power of eternal fire, struggle, and damnation.

And still, Death gained ground.

Master, and Ren… This one is for both of you.

Kaizen slashed up to make Death parry, then he chopped down to make Death halt the strike, which left Kaizen’s sword in position to thrust its point into Death’s exposed brain. But with just two bony fingers, Death pinched the tip of the greatsword’s blade and restrained its movement. Despite Kaizen’s resolve and power, he couldn’t move his sword forward to strike or backward to retreat.

Kaizen’s blood filled with Wrath, his innermost demon, his innate cardinal sin, and the flames around his eyes turned pitch black.

KAIZEN—NOW IS THE TIME TO MERGE.

“No!” Kaizen fought off an entirely different opponent, who both wasn’t there at the Altar but always present. I will finish this without you, demon.

Kaizen stared into the voids of Death’s eyes to focus on something other than his rage. The black flames surrounding his eyes dissipated. He took the only available opening, released his sword, and lunged under it toward Death. Kaizen trapped Death’s scythe arm and gripped him in a body lock. He harnessed all of his energy, every last drop of chi, and invoked his ultimate spell.

«« Gates of Hell »»

Corroded, black metal gates materialized from the void. Kaizen's spell bent and warped them into a makeshift force field around both himself and Death, trapping them inside. He squeezed Death for dear life and even cut his cheek on his own sword stuck between them. Kaizen erupted in flames, and the inferno engulfed them both.

“I’ll drag you down to Hell with me!" The way we were always destined to go.

The flames scalded Kaizen’s skin and seared down to his muscles. It incinerated his organs until he could no longer see through his melted eyes. Still, he unleashed every ounce of energy available until the last possible moment, when his body could no longer sustain the self-inflicted punishment.

And then he died.

Kaizen awoke to the sounds of smoldering embers and War’s deep, roaring laughter. His body had Regenerated enough to revive himself, and his eyes shifted back in their proper place and working condition, though not much else had. The charred temple around them burned and sizzled, and even the hallowed Altar of the Gods was scorched.

Did the force field hold long enough?

He rolled over and saw a cracked shield. His eyes trailed up, and his stomach dropped. Death towered above him and held onto the broken shield. The Horseman Regenerated his wounds. Kaizen wished his eyes hadn’t healed.

My shield, the Sound of Fury. But only I can use it. Me, Wrath, and—

“Oh,” Kaizen whispered. His heart skipped a beat. He felt so much ignorance, so much stupidity in that single moment. Kaizen coughed up more blood. “I see now.”

Cruel Fate. He dropped his head down to the ground with a thud. Horror overrode the dull yet constant pain. Kaizen laid there in disbelief.

“Ever the fool.”

The muffled voice came from the surrounding void. Death had finally spoken.

“Of course I can harness the power of the Sound.”

Rukia… Run…

Death tossed the shield aside like trash. It clattered on the stone floor, but Kaizen didn’t hear it. Death grabbed Kaizen’s hair and lifted him to his knees.

A tear streamed down Kaizen’s cheek. He felt guilt; he felt remorse. I've been here, in this moment before… But when was it? And why do I feel like the roles have reversed?

Kaizen couldn’t look Death in the eyes anymore. He averted his gaze to the other combatants on the battlefield, well beyond the Altar of the Gods. My enemies, my allies…my friends. All of them had stopped fighting each other to witness this deciding bout.

“This time, you will watch.”

The Horseman pulled back the Grim Reaper. Time slowed down. Wrath’s Rebellion, as they were called, all looked on in horror and defeat. Sloth, Gluttony, and Pride all boasted their wicked grins. Envy and Lust both looked upon Kaizen with pity and longing desire, of love that would never be.

Greed glared at Kaizen.

He was right before, about summoning Wrath. And I—

Death slashed his winged blade through the air. A wave of black energy surged from its edge and rushed the battlefield. Its arc grew wider as it swept across the expanse.

Kaizen watched as the single attack wiped out all fourteen combatants at once—six Sins, seven Virtues, and one fox Familiar. Rukia—I…

Kaizen waited for what felt like hours for them to Regenerate. Cold sweat dripped down his temple. His heartbeat quickened, and bile crept up his throat. No one moved, and none of the severed body parts connected themselves back together.

The constant weight of the Horseman’s fistful of hair pressed Kaizen down firmly into the ground.

“I am Death, you fool. When I kill something, it remains such.”

It.

It. We’re all just pawns in this stupid game of—

Pain ruptured Kaizen’s flesh and soul. It fused physical pain with the emotional torture of loss. His own Regeneration had finally repaired his nerves from their third-degree burns, and his pain receptors radiated violently. Agony mixed with the shock of his defeat, the shame of his arrogance, the finality of the coming Apocalypse, and the regret of it all.

It wasn’t enough. I wasn't enough. I should have listened to Greed and Wrath, and Integrated with him back then…

Death released his ironclad grip. Kaizen’s hair tumbled down in his face, and he gazed up at both the sun outside and the ethereal night sky inside the Altar.

“You bastard. You fucking traitor. I will kill you. I'll find you in the next Cycle, and I'll kill you myself. This whole time—”

“It was me. It’s always been me.”

Death’s voice echoed in the chambers. His message repeated over and over again, as if to taunt and torment.

“Better luck next time, Wrath.”

Wrath. How could you have been right? Why didn’t I listen and merge with you? I have always hated this world, always hated this, this shared destiny of ours.

Does that make us alike, after all? Am I truly Wrath?

Kaizen stared into Rukia’s lifeless eyes. Even in her final moments, his most loyal friend had turned to him, to look up at him one final time for help that never came.

No.

I am not you. I am…

“Kaizen.” Even through the pain and defeat, Kaizen regained his sense of honor and corrected his posture. He knelt before Death in a position of ceremonial execution customary to his homeland. “My name is Kaizen. Say it.

Death stood still. Their eyes locked. The Horseman dropped his scythe to the ground. He drifted over to the cracked shield and picked it up. The Sound of Fury transformed back into its base form katana in his bony, lifeless hands.

“Farewell, then…Kaizen.”

Death lifted the sword— I will kill you —and cut Kaizen in two. His torso plopped down next to kneeling legs. Hot blood pooled around him.

Death hurtled the sword like a spear and pierced the globe by Rukia’s corpse, and then it flew back through the air into his skeletal hand.

Looks like you have a new Master, my old friend.

Famine cackled at Kaizen. An irritated Conquest shifted in his seat. War still twirled the pommel of his battle ax against the marble. His smile had faded long ago.

Kaizen saw the damage his own final attack had done to the temple, when his force field failed and the flames torched it. Some of the columns were destroyed. Pieces of marble continued to crumble all around. His vision faded to black around the edges, but he could still make out two images.

Death resumed the Rebirth Cycle, sucking out Earth’s soul, and a rounded slab of marble fell from a column by the night sky’s edge and onto the stairway to the Altar.

It rolled slowly down the steps and stopped near Kaizen's kneeling lower half.

Many emotions flooded Kaizen as he lay there dying—truly dying, for the first time—but none so strong as Wrath.

Author Note

Our story may have just begun, but Kaizen's is ending!

The first 2 chapters follow along the ending of Kaizen's Cycle as the previous incarnation of Wrath.

He passes on the torch to our MC (Baby) Jules in Chapter 3, and Chapter 4 starts Jules' story as a young adult.