Quandary and Apocalypse stood at the pinnacle of the ziggurat, energies pouring forth from the various offerings the Horsemen had delivered.
Death looked upon the whirlwind of mystical and reality shaping miasma swirling into an apex from the battlefront that had been pushed to the base of the ziggurat. The crescendo of energies meant that the ritual would soon be complete.
Turning back to the battlefield, he could see his siblings unleashed; the flames of War fueled the north, the crashing waves of Famine stripped the fields to the east leaving them barren. In the west, arrows littered the sky encroaching upon their enemies as a virulence, deploying Pestilence’s disease of decay across those who would dare defy their father’s will.
As he turned back to face his own slice of the battle, a red flash of force hit Death directly on the chest, knocking him back. Now was clearly not the time to be distracted…
“Focus!” Quandary commanded. The cultists reeling from Iron Man’s repulsor cannon atop the ziggurat once again took their positions.
“Do not allow them to breach us Apocalypse, the ritual is all but done.” Quandary’s ethereal voice once again began reciting the words that would realise her scheme. At long last, she would craft a world that would catalyse her finding those worthy.
The Ziggurat shook once more, aerial heroes had circumvented their defenses. Apocalypse enhanced the forcefield and began weaving stone and earth, firing at Iron Man and the others.
An orange glow appeared in front of the Eternal One as crimson spewed forth from the newly opened portal. As the Bands of Cytorrak engulfed Apocalypse, the weight of the magic brought him to his knees, the Eternal Pharaoh roared at the smug face of Doctor Strange emerging from the portal,
“I WILL NOT BE DENIED WHAT IS MINE!“
In a feat of strength, Apocalypse burst from his chains and rose defiantly.
Standing, Death unsheathed his scythe and took measure of the enemy that stood before him - Cyclops, hand at the ready on his visor.
As Death moved towards his newfound prey, Cyclops quickly recognised that he would not be as lucky with his ensuing attacks as his first strike had been. Concentrated blast after blast, the Final Horseman ducked and weaved, closing the distance in what seemed like a moment.
The scythe found purchase, Scott Summers did all he could to create distance, alas to no avail. As Death struck the mutant to the floor and stood over him, the allied supporting heroes and villains had reached the front. Without remorse, Death knew it was time to end the battle and began removing his helmet.
Recognising what was to come, Cyclops released a wide optic blast in desperation, displacing Death from his position. As with many other times of impending doom, the leader of the X-Men stood, pressed onto his communicator and called,
“To me, my - “
“ - Horsemen!”, bellowed Apocalypse. The defenses had been breached, all available heroes and villains had descended upon the ritual. The cultists had been neutralised, Apocalypse cornered to Quandary’s position.
“It’s over big guy”, Iron Man declared, as he raised his palm. “You can’t complete the ritual and you’re surrounded. You might as well reach for the sky.”
“Oh but how wrong you are, Anthony Stark.” Quandary’s voice rang out. “The ritual was never needed. Bait to draw as many heroes and villains to a singular locale. It is your consciousness which I require.”
Quandary’s eyes glowed bright as a wave of energy expanded from her, engulfing hero and villain alike, with few escaping the breadth of the newly formed dome. Tesseracts of energy, as if drawn from the fabric of reality, surrounded those caught in the trap. In the next moment, reality was undone and a dawn had come to a new world. One reshaped as…
Battle World.
