Francis knew something was fucky as soon as the Evandrel's bird landed on top of the pub. It was huge, more than capable of carrying him and the eggs. But there was one gigantic, glaring problem.

  “Is that a fucking osprey?” the Marine asked Evandrel.

  “Might be,” replied the opossum as he hopped down from the saddle strapped across the bird's neck, “Why?”

  Francis shook his head. It wasn't worth explaining, and they were running out of time. The horde could disperse at any minute. “Don't worry about it, I'll make do. You handle the bombs and I'll keep any unwanted guests off our backs.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Evandrel tipped his hat and went to work loading up the eggs. He had enough netting in his bag of hoarding to let each one hang safely from the osprey’s talons.

  The opossum sniffed the air and felt his hackles raise up. Something bad was coming. He could feel it in his gut.

  Evandrel looked back toward Francis and cast a ward on the Marine. It wasn't much, but hopefully it would be enough to tip the scales if something bad happened.

  “Alright,” the opossum said as he got back into his saddle, “Let's get this shit done.”

  ***

  Hades watched as Francis took off. He had a pretty good idea where the Marine was planning on dropping the thunderbird eggs. After all, it was hard to miss a giant undead horde.

  “He's right there! Take the shot!” hissed Eris.

  “No, we need to get closer.” The god of death stowed his bow. He could have just shot the eggs and blown up Francis, but then Eris would have been free to stab him in the back. It was much safer to deal with both threats simultaneously.

  “Come on,” Hades said, “We can cut him off by the main gate, if we hurry.”

  As they made their way through the city, Hades felt a slight twinge of concern. Technically gods weren't supposed to kill each other's champions. There were very strict rules about it. But then again, they had duked it out before, and nothing bad had happened.

  Plus, Francis was technically a god. And Hades could make an argument that he was attacking a fellow deity, not a rival’s champion. Either way, he was fairly sure that his plan fell squarely on the side of unethical, but technically within the rules. After all, it wasn't like he was going to deal the killing blow.

  Hades got into position on a rooftop by the main gates and prepared to start casting. They were right next to the horde, but high up enough to avoid being noticed. Now came the second part of his plan.

  He turned to face Eris. “Francis has a ton of resistance to magical attacks. If we're going to get this done in one shot, we need to crit. That means I need you to boost my spell with everything you have.”

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  Eris frowned. “Sure. I could do that. But why aren't you using your bow?”

  “If Francis has some kind of mounted combatant ability, we're screwed,” the god of death lied. “He could sacrifice the bird to save himself. Paladins do it all the time.”

  “Oh,” Eris said as she realized that Hades had spotted a potential problem that she never would have thought of. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

  “Oh, and one last thing. If you're going to stick a knife in my back, make sure you do it after Francis is dead.” Hades locked eyes with the goddess. “Celebrating too soon is a good way to get us both killed.”

  “Fine,” Eris rolled her eyes, “I swear I won't betray you until after our business is done.”

  The god of death responded with an eye roll of his own. If everything went according to plan, he wouldn't have to worry about Eris' inevitable betrayal. And if things went awry, he could always Teleport home.

  Hades limbered up his wrists, selected his targets, and started casting the spell. It was an old one, from before the last age of calamity. But it was still incredibly effective, even against gods.

  Goodbye, Francis, the god of death thought to himself, I promised that I was going to kill you. And I always keep my promises.

  ***

  Francis was almost to the main gates when he felt his head start to fill with static. He could hear Evandrel counting down the seconds until the osprey would drop its payload. But the opossum’s voice sounded like it was coming from far, far away, like a radio at the end of a long dark tunnel.

  The Marine felt his grip slipping. Something was wrong. But he did his best to keep holding on. He had to keep holding on, no matter what. He had to finish the mission.

  People were counting on him. They needed him to keep them safe. That was his job. That was all that mattered.

  “Bombs away,” said Evandrel as the osprey released its payload.

  “Bombs… away…” whispered Francis as he felt his grip finally fail. Then he was falling, down, down, down.

  ***

  Eris fell to her knees as the spell took hold, draining away her strength and magic. She wasn't able to stand, much less launch a counter-attack. But it wouldn't have mattered anyway.

  As soon as his spell was cast, Hades had teleported away to safety. Sticking around and gloating was something only idiots would do. He had, however, left a note.

  “Fucking… asshole…” cursed Eris as her whole body started going numb. Soon, she wouldn't be able to move at all.

  The goddess used the last of her strength to look up toward the falling Marine. Both of them would be within the blast radius when the bombs went off. The god of death had killed two birds with one stone.

  Oh well, Eris thought as certain death fell toward her, It all had to end sometime.

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