Gold Standard

He leapt from one building to the next, moving his heavy frame with surprising dexterity. He moved with such speed that the ordinary pedestrians could not perceive him, and those who could wished they hadn't. Those unlucky few shuddered, rubbed their eyes, and turned their heads away. Nobody was exceptionally courageous when Mammon barreled by, exuding a aura of pure demonic rage that was to be expected of a demon prince. What was he searching for? He hadn't yet settled on a target. Avarice, the vice that he exemplified, was also his sole motivator in the hunt.

He stopped for a moment, peering down from atop a stone gargoyle. The brightly-lit windows of the Western National Bank were what caught his eye. Mammon sneered, his foot perched upon the gargoyle's head. Crimson smoke billowed from his mouth as if it were the breath of a man freezing to death. The demon prince of avarice lifted his ugly head higher and let out an infernal bellow. He dove from the ledge, shattering the gargoyle's head in the process. The demon prince came down upon the roof of the bank with incredible force, shattering the ceiling like a graham cracker.

"Payday!" He grunted.

The alarm was sounded from deep inside the Draelin Council's central headquarters. Located in it's own secret niche of reality, the council headquarters was one the most well-guarded buildings in the known existence. The very entrances to the central headquarters were few and backed up by a magical force field. Only members of the council or sufficiently powerful individuals could pass to the inside. In case of unwanted invaders, a platoon of combat-trained supernaturals known as the WatchForce were constantly on-gaurd and more than capable of maintaining the Councils reputation of strict defense. Indeed, the council's security was second only to the gargantuan stronghold of the Elemental Lord of Earth, which had defenses said to be impenetrable.

At the innermost chamber of this grand establishment was an enormous domed room: The Codex Room, as it was known. On a pedestal in the round rooms epicenter was the Verdian Codex itself, looking as untouched as it did the day it was made. This was do to the timeless magic that was placed on it. On most days, the Codex would do nothing but sit idle. This was not most days.

Mammon's attack on the bank had set of the Codex's alarm. The book had begun to release a sound that could be heard in every portion of the headquarters. A sound that would flash an image of the current crisis into the mind of any council member that heard it. Throughout the hallways, council members listened to the codex's sound and became aware of Mammon's rampage.

At the Boston Gate, two members of the WatchForces were observing the Codex's scene in their minds eye and saw as the demon prince of avarice smashed his way through metal doors of the banks safe.

"That Mammon is one hell of a demon." Said one of the WatchForce members. He was a broad, muscular man who stubbly facial hair framed an annoyed expression. "I'd hate to be the fool who has to fight against that."

The WatchForce Member's last sentence was drowned out by a deluge of rapid and thunderous footsteps heading towards the Boston Gate. The being making that was making them, wore heavy golden armor from the neck down. His face was lined with battle scars and his hair was knotted into a warriors ponytail. On his back was an enormous two-handed claymore, roughly the height of an average adolescent. The 7-foot figure stopped running just in time to avoid trampling the pair of WatchForce operatives, who could only cower in shock.

"Open the gate." Said the armored one. "I'll see to it that this demon is put to sleep."

"M-m-Matao!" Gasped one of the operatives. "I was unaware you returned from Asia."

"We can't open the gate!" Gulped the other. "The council still needs to verify the threat and assign who they think is worthy!"

The armored man before them growled. "WORTHY!?" He shouted in a booming voice. "Who do you believe you are talking to? I am Matao, the strongest of the three reapers! As for verification, I have all the proof I need to know that there is a snake-tongued demonic freak trying to get himself on the gold standard in the middle of bean town! You WILL MOVE ASIDE!"

The operative closest to Matao did his best to make himself smaller. The other stepped forward and though trembling with timidity, managed to say four words the armored reaper hated to here.

"Boston is Kole's turf."

Matao glared at the foolish operative. "What did you say, you WatchForce peon?"

"I... said..." The operative shuddered. "That the Grim Reaper is already in Boston and so is Shera the Dragoness. So it seems... if anyone is going to be dispatched... it will probably be..."

Matao seized the operative by the shoulder and threw him aside.

"Screw him." Matao thundered. "And her. Both of them are weak and it sickens me."

Without another word, Matao thrust himself through the Boston Gate and was gone, leaving the traumatized WatchForce agents flopping on the ground like fish.

Moments later, the armored reaper arrived at the Western National Bank and found it in a state of turmoil. Half of the building had been ripped down, likely by the force of Mammon's initial entrance. Any people who hadn't fled were simply unable too, as exemplified by an unfortunate woman trapped beneath a pile of fallen debris.

"Help me! Please! Anyone!" The woman shouted. Before Matao could do anything the upper half of the woman's body was torn away from the rest by Mammon's claw. Her still-screaming torso was then devoured, disappeared down the demon princes gullet.

Matao reached for the hilt of his claymore. Without a moment's pause, the reaper drew his blade and made a dash for his opponent. Mammon, unprepared for this sudden encounter, jumped back but wasn't quick enough to avoid half an arm to Matao's blade. As blood poured from the demon princes wound, Matao roared with pride.

"There! Now you know that I mean business!" Matao said haughtily. "The blade in my hand has shed the blood of many! Humans! Demons! Supernaturals! Even Angels! All of whom were enemies of the Draelin Council and all of whom I have crushed! You may be a big deal to those bookish types who run the council, but to me you are just one more kill in a long string of victories! Brace yourself, demon prince of avarice. I, Matao the strongest reaper, will end you!"

Mammon eyes began to glow a deep shade of emerald. The demon prince began to caress his wounded arm with his long tongue. The demon's arm began to regenerate and all traces of the wound faded away. Mammon's arm was restored.

"No way! That thing regenerates!?" Matao gasped, sweat dripping from his brow. Before anything further could cross the reaper's mind, the demon prince's long tongue launched at a blinding speed and wrapped itself around Matao's throat. Matao had only a moment to choke out, "Damn!" before his vision became nothing more then a pair of green eyes with a gaze that pierced him. The strongest of the three reapers shut his eyes and preyed for a painless death.