[center][h1][b]The Immortals[/b][/h1][/center]
	“What the hell happened here.”  Odysseus asked aloud, not intending for his ‘partner’ to answer it.  Only a few days ago, the well-built archer had been hunting down leads on the Shroud Syndicate.  Now, he was following around a bird-headed man, who was decked out in ancient Egyptian attire.  Never had this Greek man seen such carnage like this before, even though he has seen some strange things while going after the various criminal underworlds that reside in the United States alone.

	“Obviously those who have not respect for the dead.  Leaving the bodies out for the carrion and the dogs would be a worse enough offense on its own.  But using the broken and lacerated limbs of the fallen, as if they were Lincoln Logs, in order to taunt every single person of at least some noble mindset reveals how deviant these fiends are.”  Odysseus was still trying to get use to how Jeffery, or the Son of Osiris, as he now referred to himself, would communication with him telepathically.  Hearing your own thoughts is one thing.  Hearing someone else’s voice in your own head is just downright bizarre.

	“There must have been thousands of people packed into this stadium!  What the hell are the two of us supposed to do against four individuals who can do something like this?”  However, Odysseus did not illicit a response from his Egyptian-themed ally.  The Son of Osiris continued to walk towards the side of the stadium that had the press box.  The Greek archer was not quite sure what his partner’s plan was.  In fact, he was not really even sure why they were in this creepy place.  The police had already begun to create a perimeter around the block where the Lost Haven University’s football stadium was located.  Or at least until the Son of Osiris began to speak (in his mind, of course).

	“I sense a living soul up in the press box.”  Odysseus suddenly heard the bird-headed man tell him.  His partner floated up over the boundary that separated the stands from the field, while Odysseus climbed up over the partisan.  Then they ascended the stairs until they reached the press box.  However, the Son of Osiris abruptly before they reached the top.  He turned back towards Odysseus for a moment.

	“It might be better if you talk to whoever is in there.  The sight of a bird-headed man who talks via telepathy might be a little too much for this person, especially considering what he or she has experienced this night.”  Odysseus nodded in agreement.  Heck, he himself was freaked out a little when he first met this ‘Son of Osiris’.  How would someone who was not use to metahumans react to that?

	While Odysseus went into the press box in order to find whoever survived this massacre, the Son of Osiris looked down upon the field.  Most people would have seen the countless corpses disrespectfully arranged into a gruesome message that called out at the heroes of Lost Haven and the world in general.  However, the Son of Osiris saw more.  He could see the uncountable souls that stood horrified as they looked upon how their own dead limbs had been stuck together for some twisted purpose.  These people had their lives stolen from them prematurely.  Many would never learn the full experience of adulthood.

	“That guy was a mess.”  Odysseus creeped up from behind the Son of Osiris.  “He’s too much in shock to give anything coherent.  He kept mumbling about a living shadow, an all-consuming fire, a living skeleton, and a giant monster.  I’ll say he’s in pretty decent shape considering what he had just experienced, being the sole survivor.  I would hate to see what [b]worse[/b] would look like.”

	“There are two reasons why I do not fear this shadow.”  The Son of Osiris told Odysseus inside the Greek’s head.  “First, my ‘father’ [b]is[/b] darkness.”

	“Wait!  You’re seriously thinking about taking on whoever did [b]this[/b]” The archer gestured towards the mangled body parts that were used to write out Nightmare’s message for the heroes of Lost Haven.  “I’m sorry, but I don’t think we alone could do much.  Heck, if we were here when this self-dubbed ‘Nightmare’ had attacked, we probably would be amongst the dead down there!”

	“Have you ever heard of the myth of Osiris?”

	“Not particularly.”

	“Once, long ago, Osiris’ brother, Set, became jealous his sibling and eventually chopped him up into many pieces, which were scattered around the world.  Isis, Osiris’ wife, scoured across the globe for the individual pieces of her husbands until one day she managed to reunite Osiris into a single body.  On that day, Osiris, the Egyptian God of the Dead, was resurrected.”

	“Hold your horses there.  You’re not thinking about putting all of those bodies back together are you?  I know you have a thing about respecting the dead and all, but that would take hours if not days!  Plus, that guy in the press box was mumbling about an all-consuming fire.  Couldn’t some of the bodies been, like, cremated or something?”

	“Although you do bring up good points if I only intended to give these people a proper burial, I am surprised, Odysseus, that you have not bothered to ask what was the second reason why I did not fear this darkness.  For while my ‘father’ is darkness, he is also [b]life[/b].  You might want to divert your eyes.”

	The Son of Osiris held out his staff, raising it out towards the message that was written on the football field.  If someone had been watching the stadium from far away, they would have noticed a giant, blue burse of light.  While it was not quite the intensity of an atomic bomb, the light was still blinding.  Once the light had died down, Odysseus peered back down towards the bloodstained field below.  What was once filled with lifeless corpses and mangled body parts, now the stadium was filled with countless resurrected souls, not yet ready to be taken away by death.  Everyone was overtaken by a state of confusion since no one knew what had happened or could remember what had happened to themselves just hours ago.

	However, something was not quite right.  Although the Son of Osiris was successful at restoring the corporal state of Nightmare and company’s victims, he noticed that some of the bodies were still unanimated.  Something had gone wrong, or rather something had prevented him from giving the entire crowd a second chance.  It was now evident to the Son of Osiris that, whoever had done this atrocity, that group of individuals were motivated more than just the murder.  Something peculiar indeed.  And this anomaly vexed the servant of Osiris.  Until he is able to figure out what had prevented a successful full resurrection attempt, the Son of Osiris would have to be content with those who had been saved and with the solace that would be given to the families of those who were not restored to life because they would have an intact body for burial.

	“Their memories have been erased, as no one should experience death twice.”  Osiris mentioned to Odysseus, who was stunned at what he had seen.  Now, Odysseus wondered what the heck has he gotten himself into.  This is no longer the game of beating up the thugs of corrupt organizations and mobs.  However, before Odysseus could utter a word, his bird-headed ally had already placed his arm on the Greek’s shoulder and teleported them away from the stadium, leaving the crowd that has been given a second chance to deal with themselves.