It is a cacophony of immeasureable proportions. From cosmos to cosmos, stretching along the crimson bands of the Infinite, billions upon billions of planets collide, forming a Ring of Fire imploding inward onto one point of Cataclysm, set deep within the center of the Universal Miasma.

Inside the innermost frictious cauldron of the Apocalypse, five bodies stand, the foremost taking a few lingering steps forward as he leans his youthful head back. Green eyes set inside almond flicker, taking in the horrendous collapse of Everything that Is—Billions upon billions of planets exploding in a row, forming a chain of hellish destruction that rumbles and vibrates the very energy barrier upon which the five stand.

And it is not just any random assortment of planets either—for they are all identical, or at least nearly identical.

They are all Earth.

The boy looks at all this, his hands gripping to a satchel over his shoulder, his spiked hair twitching in the gale of galactic cyclones of fire. Embracing the Final Stand, the Crisis in Collapse, the Death of all Life—he whistles, spins about from the Spectral Holocaust, and smiles crookedly towards the four.

"Whew! That's gotta leave a mark!" He slaps his hands together and rubs them. "SO! Who's for waffles?"

"Are you crazy?" One of them exclaims, gesturing towards the great imploding sphere of Nothingness. "You see the end of the world—no, excuse me—ALL worlds and you wanna quit taking a diet!"

"HEY! That's not true!" The boy plants his hands onto his hips, chattering above the thunder of galactic annihilation. "I'll have no you know that I've not had to fast anything for ages!"

"Oh come on-"

"I mean it! I've got a booty that'll make Megan Fox transform into a hanging noose!"

"I reckon you mean a billion Megan Foxes?" Another figure gesturestowards the chaos. "In case you haven't noticed—We're about to be whipped by Armageddon on steroids!"

"Eh, I've been through plenty of Ragnoraks in my day! This is no different!" He twirls about to face the Calamity, then gulps. "Well, actually, I take that back, this is pretty nasty actually."

"I swear to Sargeras..." Another figure groans.

"This'll blow the mole straight off Galactus' nose, lemme tell ya-"

"Do we have an escape plan or don't we?" The third voice snarls. "It was YOU who came to us, yanno!"

"I entreat thee, o Lord, in our time of dire need..." The fourth and last voice throats.

"Oh hush!"

"Hush yourself, ya bleach haired witch! Mind your manners in front of a man bowing to the Almighty!"

"I'll show you Almighty-"

"Okay—OKAY!" The boy spins with a cackle. Flames and exploding Earths light up behind him, drawing closer. "I know it's the End of all Space and Time—But don't you people all go 'The View' on my butt! You're right! I brought you here for a reason."

"And what, pray tell, is that?"

"Look..." The boy smiles pleasantly in spite of the horror and paces in a line before them. "I've been doing my job for a long, long, long time. Longer than any of you can think. But my last job is to give you all this final instruction—Well, make that second to last job. I kinda gotta...yanno...stuff some things into my pocket and all once you sexy harpies are gone-"

"Surely there is a message in all of this. By the Grace of God, we haven't much time left."

"HA! Don't you know it, ya silly little frodo!" The boy sticks his tongue out, clears his throat, and smiles proudly at the four of them. "You are four of the five...the last ones...the last Angel Spears."




"...Angel Whats?"

"Don't act surprised!" The boy waves his arms as a planet goes kersplodey behind him. "The end of everything doesn't end with all this astronomical diarrhea bouncing around beyond me!" He winks. "The end ends with you."

"But...then..." One of them scratches a head. "Who is the fifth?"

"The fifth..." The boy takes a deep breath, glanced forlornly at the blackening nightmare behind his shoulder. He fights it, but finds a reason to smile. "I think it's rather obvious by nao. But, that won't make the search any easier." He turns and looks back at the four. "If it's of any consolation, I'll be looking for him too."

"Oh yeah? From where?"

"Where else?" The boy grins. "From my turntable!"

A roar of thunder, and the Earth they are hovering over comes under attack from the debris of Everything Else that has existed, that is being swallowed, that is being engulfed in a great, great Black.

"Reckon it's time we get the Hell outta dodge."

"Spoken like a true desperado." The boy flicks a wrist, innocently—and a beam of green light yawns forth before the four individuals. "Try not to trip on any train wrecks on the way in."

"Heh, you're a real hum dinger."

"Every ding that I've ever humped." The boy nods with a grin. "And proud of it."

As the four saunter their way in, one figure stops to squint his way. "When will we know that we've found the one we're looking for?"

"When does he ever show up?" He waved before the collapsing black. "When everything is full circle, of course."

"Hmph. Figures. Something tells me this is gonna suck."

"And I thought she was the vampire," the boy gestures with his head. "Nao skedaddle!"

The five figures drift in through the vortex—and are swallowed up in a blip of comprehension, snagged from existence.

Alone, the boy twirls about, facing the obsidian immensity descending, collapsing, embracing the last Earth in the grand soup of Chaos. A figure stretches beyond, thinned out like a rubber band scarecrow god, obscured by nebulae of black emptiness.

"Mmmmmnnng...Time it was, and what a, time it was, it was..." His green eyes narrow in a sudden solemnity. He flicks a hand forward, shimmering a horrendous emerald. "Bright eyes, you dun goof'd."

But he cannot resist.

He smiles. Always smiles.

The darkness descends.

The Green answers, pointing towards a brand new heaven, a voice screaming out into the Ever-Firmaments.

"TO ME!"

The Earth is swallowed up in a sphere of green. The effluence of everything that's left billows into one tiny point, one tiny figure, an epicenter of stretched matter and impossibly contracting ectoplasm, until there is nothing—nothing but the last bastion against nothingness, a screaming gasp of infinitesimal green Life, encapsulated in a jump: