Yahweh paused for a rest in the streets of Tokyo. Having worked nonstop New York, he had just killed his ninety-eighth or ninety-ninth monster. It was getting hard to keep count, especially since this tiny island nation had such an abundance of giant monsters. He took a deep breath and stretched his tired muscles. That was as much of a rest as he dared take. He wasn’t even half done, and he had much more traveling ahead of him than he’d ever thought possible.

“Who knew the world was so big,” Yahweh said as he rose into the air upon a storm cloud and then darted across the sky.

- - - - -

“Kid.”

Roger Culver watched Augur with concern. The young man had been standing in place for hours, never moving much, but obviously consumed with effort. It was a big day in the war against the Grays and Augur was monitoring everything that was going on.

“Kid?”

Augur began to sway. Drool ran from his mouth. That was as much as Roger could stand to watch. He grabbed Augur by the shoulders and shook him.

“Kid! Snap out of it. You’re going to blow a fuse.”

Augur opened his eyes and slumped to the floor. Roger maneuvered him into a sitting position with his back against a console.

“Have to… Have to keep track…” the young hero said.

“You’ve done plenty. It’s time to pass the baton. You have to rest.”

Augur nodded. After a few minutes rest he was looking better.

“Things are going well,” Augur said. “The European and Asian superhumans have been freed. Now they’re all attacking Gray ships. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Music to my ears, kid. Now we just have to figure out what to do with this son of a bitch.” Roger Culver jerked his thumb in the direction of the First Primary, or rather in the direction of the two guards who were supposed to be watching the First Primary.

“Where the hell is he?” Roger yelled.

“He was here a second ago, I swear,” one of the clown faced guards said.

“It was his turn to watch him,” the second guard said as he pointed at the first.

“Well, this is just great,” Roger said. “Of course, I’m not really sure how much damage he can do to us now.”

“I shudder to think,” Augur said.

- - - - -

The First Primary awoke to find himself surrounded, not by the hated humans, but by his fellow Grays. Given his poor service to his people on this day he was not sure if his situation had improved.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“You are on my ship,” the Third Primary said as he emerged from shadows.

“Am I your prisoner?”

“Not yet. Of course a committee will be formed to assess your failure and set an appropriate punishment, but this is not the time for that. We must now plan to recover from this disaster.”

“What has been considered so far?”

“A popular option is a full retreat which would involve regrouping and planning a future attack. A few, including the Second Primary, have shown favor for continuing the hot war that has erupted. I do not support either plan.”

“Neither do I,” the First Primary said. “I propose that we shake the planet apart and mine the useful bits from orbit.”

“What of our Army of superhumans?”

“We have enough samples to grow our own superhumans. It will take considerably longer, but the product should be more manageable.”

“Agreed,” the Third Primary said. “I think this plan could win support from the others.”

“We haven’t the time for bureaucracy. I say we do it now.”

The Third Primary nearly smiled. “As you command it, First Primary.”

- - - - -

Star Sentinel took a deep breath of fresh air. He had no need to breathe. Such mortal things were a part of his past, but it had been weeks since he had enjoyed the pleasures of Earth.

It was not quite what he remembered. There was smoke, probably from nearby Kansas City. There was also the smell of death, most likely from the corpse of the giant monster that laid waste to that city.

“Welcome back,” Tempus Fugitive said as he removed his space helmet.

“Yes, and thank you for that. I must be honest. I'm surprised that you're the one who came to my rescue. No offense intended.”

“None taken, I'm as surprised as you are, but never mind that. What's the plan, big guy?”

“I need to be brought up to speed first. I could see from space that a highly coordinated counter assault is being waged. How did that come about?”

“You mean you didn't get Augur's telepathic thingamagookie?”

Star Sentinel didn't know about any Augur, but that was not important. “No, the force field must have blocked that along with many other forms of communication. Why?”

“Then you're probably the only human being on the planet who doesn't know every damned secret about them damned bobble-headed aliens.”

Star Sentinel was stunned. He wasn't used to being at a disadvantage. After all, he was Star Sentinel for crying out loud.

“Well,” he said before the violent shaking of the Earth changed his train of thought.

“What the hell was that?” Tempus Fugitive screeched, “an earthquake? I'm from Jersey. We don't do earthquakes.”

The quake continued.

“Damn it to hell! They're doing it. They're tearing the planet apart!”

“What?”

“The Gray's force field generator is being used to create earthquakes that will turn the planet to rubble.”

“That ain't good,” Tempus Fugitive said.

“No, that ain't good.”

Tempus Fugitive ran up to Star Sentinel in a blind panic. “Do something! Do something now! You're Star Sentinel. Do something!”

“Yes, I am Star Sentinel.” The space faring hero turned to his slightly built companion and smiled. “and you're Tempus Fugitive.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means you get the privilege of saving the world.”

Tempus Fugitive stomped like a petulant child. “Again?”

- - - - -

From his office in the Kremlin, Leonid Brezhnev watched as a crack in the pavement snaked its way across Red Square. It was happening just as the captive said. The aliens were destroying the planet. This was ahead of schedule. The Grays had planned to occupy Earth for years before entering this final stage. Brezhnev blamed the Americans. It was their clumsy heroics that forced the Grays’ hand.

All of human history was coming to an end this day. All of the glory, discoveries and triumphs of the past lead only here, to ruin. Only the Grays would be left to take note of human existence, and that made Brezhnev furious. The Grays would not live to brag of their victory. Brezhnev possessed the engine of their destruction and it was time to use it.

He opened the box that set on his desk. Inside was a single button, red, of course. He took a breath and pressed the button. Somewhere in the Siberian wastes the Tokamak would emerge from the ground. It was the most destructive thing ever devised by man, part Martian technology, part Gray technology and a sizeable portion of mysticism. If the Grays were not already destroying the world, the Tokamak would have done the job. Perhaps its deadly radiation would bring a quicker, more merciful death to humanity, as it destroyed the Grays.

One of the phones on his desk rang. It was habit that made him pick it up. “This is Brezhnev.”

His massive eyebrows raised in surprise. “What do you mean, the Tokamak is missing?”

- - - - -

Somewhere in Antartica, as far from any human being as he could manage, Justice looked up at the Soviet’s supreme weapon, and the death dealing robot looked back.

“Okay,” Justice said, “now what exactly am I going to do with you?”