CHAPTER 69

"Death has requested that we follow the laws of your land and allow him to have legal representation." Mehkhkahrel's mouth was stretched wide, his tongue hanging out as the words boomed from him like a loudspeaker. "As a being of justice, I have seen fit to grant this request."

"Thank you." Beth looked over at the three horsemen. "If you are the judge, then who is the jury?"

Mehkhkahrel pointed up at the swirling mass with a crooked finger. "I am merely the subconscious of the entity above, an extension of its will. As such, we are not bound by any ethical obligations, for our judgment is free of bias."

Warning sign number one. Beth thought about what Lily had told her. If angels and demons were cut from the same cloth, did that mean the angel was incapable of lying? Technically speaking, if the divine being believed it was free of bias, it would be speaking the truth. Either way, a situation where the judge and jury were effectively the same being was a bad sign.

The angel was just a demon without daddy issues, after all.

"And them?"

"We are the prosecution." Famine's voice had a southern drawl to it. His skin was dark and shiny, as if he had been dipped in oil. "And it is our firm belief that our day has come that we may walk among mortals and take what is owed to us."

"I see." Beth looked over at Death, then back at the others. "So catch me up to speed. If you all are the prosecution, then what crime has been committed?"

"We demand what is ours!" War was a large man with mottled, sunburnt skin and a greatsword to match. He was bald but had a beard made of fire. "To walk among the world and bring it to its knees!"

"Haven't you done enough walking on our world already? In fact, I would argue that all of you exist as a consistent state of things. So why fight to be allowed to start the Apocalypse."

"Allow me to answer, dear child." Mehkhkahrel now held a gavel in both hands, and black robes had appeared on him. "As I am but an extension of the glorious being up above, so too is the state of the world. People may fight wars, but they are not War himself. What you have experienced in your world is but a pittance compared to the legacy that is rightfully theirs."

"And I see it as a temper tantrum." Beth narrowed her eyes at War. "Nice sword. Isn't that a bit dated?"

War laughed heartily. "Haven't you heard that all is fair in love and war? I care not by what means the battle is won. But since you asked..." He casually picked up the sword, which dislodged a massive chunk of dirt, and rested it on his shoulders. "Though a gun may take a life, I long to feel the hot blood of my enemies rain down upon my skin. I carry this that I may cleave a man in half and watch the light fade from his eyes as my brother collects him."

Beth gasped when she realized that what she had mistaken for his skin tone was actually the stain of fresh blood.

Famine licked his lips hungrily. "And I would see their hope extinguished as the food they feel entitled to cannot reach their bellies. As they mourn the physical things they can no longer afford. To see their bones against their skin as they waste away before my brother collects them."

"Shouldn't you be thinner?" she asked. Famine had a thick gut.

"I bring hunger," he explained. "But that does not mean I should suffer from it."

Behind them, Pestilence raised their hands and waved them about as if speaking. Instead of a voice, it was the sound of thousands of beating wings flapping past, and when Pestilence finished, War let out a bark of laughter.

"Well said!" he exclaimed.

"So it sounds like Death is key to all of this." Beth crossed her arms and looked at Mehkhkahrel. "Though these three could walk the land, as long as Death himself isn't physically present, the Apocalypse cannot take place."

"So it is written," Mehkhkahrel responded. "In the bible, which is the word of the being you know as God."

"Does the Apocalypse actually have to happen, though?" It was time to try a new angle. "It seems like there's a lot in the bible that hasn't or didn't actually happen."

This caused the angel to tilt his head, which made his tongue flop from one side of his mouth to the other. "This world will end one day as all worlds must. And when it comes, there will be war, there will be illness, and there will be starvation and all shall die. It is the natural order of things."

"But technically, these guys don't have to show up, right?" Beth looked at the horsemen. "From what I understand of the bible, it's meant to be interpretive. So though it says that all things will end, it doesn't necessarily mean that it has to end this way. For instance, I remember something about a lake of fire. Couldn't that be interpreted as the sun expanding and gobbling up the Earth?"

Mehkhkahrel paused for a long time, as if considering his answer.

She continued. "I was under the impression that it was impossible to put into mortal words the will of a divine being who exists outside of time or space. Much like describing the color red to a blind person. I suspect that by having a divine being try to convey these thoughts and ideas, we suffer from mistranslation due to qualia. The terms and conditions of the Apocalypse itself may have been ineffable, meaning that the scribe did their best but couldn't convey the full meaning of God's word.

"In fact, the bible I have seen is not written in its original language. So how do I know that the events of the Apocalypse as I understand them don't contain translation errors? Or perhaps the scribe held an implicit bias, and wrote their own take on things." Beth pointed at Pestilence. "I doubt hazmat suits existed when the bible was written. If we were to open one now and read the passages out loud, we would discover that this extraplanar being does not match the description of one of the four horsemen. So either the bible is wrong, in which case you have no precedent, or these aren't the horsemen. Either way, any claim they may have to the Apocalypse is null and void, as their coming has not been properly foretold."