.... Where am I? How did I get here? What is happening? These are the only thoughts in the man's head as he peers around. It is dark, almost cavern-like. A candle lights one end of the tunnel, and the man can see a railroad on the bottom. This must be the abandoned subways - no one's been down here in nearly forty years.... "Emperor Boris I." He wips his head around. The voice sounds familiar, but it's impossible. His eyes bulge wide. This isn't possible! he thinks. You're dead! Viktor Holding laughs through his hockey mask, as he moves forward slowly - too slowly. As the ghostly figure comes forward, Boris realizes that he now rests in a wheelchair. "It took ages to recover. I was comatose for a very long time. How many years has it been? Twenty? Thirty? I had to wait until medicine improved. I was able to get around in this chair, and I was soon even able to move my arms - that's all I needed to kill you. Martin here would do the rest...." Boris suddenly notices the other man in the tunnel, that large hulking figure who frequently paired himself with Holding, long long ago, holding up a camera, taping the events. "But it wasn't enough, you see. It's not just about killing you - it's about relishing in your demise! I must be able to speak. Seriously, what took Logi so long to work up that cure, huh?" How.... he finally speaks. How are you still alive? HAHAHAHAHAHA!! "It's actually quite funny! You remember how 'I' kept pleading innocent before they killed me off? That was no lie - you see, the man they executed really was innocent! Martin made the switch, using a car bombing or something like that for his cover. They said it was an assassination attempt. "But no, I've been biding my time, waiting until you thought you were safe.... And now, now that I'm recovered and you're all washed up.... It's time for me to meet my maker, and for you to meet yours." Who are you? "My name is Viktor Holding. I saved the people of Bayside from gangsters, and then kept them from starvation by feeding them the remains of those gangsters. And they called Geraci a cannibal...." He has two knives out now, scraping them against each other, making that horrible noise, the kind you hear just before you die. "You see, the truth is that I was a horrible leader. I killed hundreds of innocents. I fed my people human flesh. I offered no freedoms, except to leave if they wished. After all, my people, my country - it was all just a MEANS, a means to a single end.... "This end." It's hard to tell which is louder - the screams of Boris as the knives delve into his flesh, or the laughs of Holding as he lets loose all the insanity of his aging years. "But I'm NOT the worst of them! That's the juicy part! I'm not the only one whose killed innocents - we've ALL killed innocents! I may have sold human meat, but it was always the meat of those who were already dead! And I may have massacred countless lives, but it was everyone else who led me to do it! "Not even you are the worst of them, Boris! No, you're just a personal annoyance! I don't have any moral transgressions with you that I don't have with everyone else. "I want to kill you for what you did to ME." He keeps lashing out at Boris, letting him bleed, letting him drip, and letting his healing factor kick in so can bleed and drip all over again. Holding never lets up, just keeps stabbing, keeps slashing, keeps beating him over the head. And all the while, one question keeps hitting Boris harder than any of Holding's blows - WHAT DID I DO TO YOU??? "You did THIS!!!!!" Suddenly, Holding tears off his mask as it falls gently aside and sinks into a dark puddle. The face of Viktor Holding.... He has no face. There is a large hole where his nose should be. A deep cut stretches across his face. The skin around is old and rotting, with bugs eating at his flesh. The expired emperor takes one look, and vomits a chunk of blood. "I was once what they call 'a good man.' The army men hailed me as a hero. I had a wife and two kids. They went to NYU when Davis took charge. And me - I was a doctor. A DOCTOR!! "But no, you took it all away. You proved me wrong. You could've had peace, Boris. Thanks to F. B. Douglas, you could have had peace. But you backstabbed Greenwich and invaded just for the heck of it. You killed hundreds. "You killed my family, right before my eyes." Holding stabs him again, right in the heart. "I did what I could to set the record even. I invaded the Empire, just for the heck of it. I killed hundreds. But you never had a family. So I have to settle for the next-best thing, and you kill you instead. "It doesn't do it justice, really. I wish you'd killed me too. But all you gave me was these scars, to remind me of everything the world is. "Martin Bole found me and patched me up, and together we escaped to build Scarnia. It's unfortunate, too - he'd have killed to hear all this, but alas he's deaf and dumb." Please.... he begs. I'm sorry.... I didn't mean for them to.... I didn't know they.... "Hush, elder Emperor. You see, there's one thing you really don't understand. I want to kill you, you see, but that does not mean I hate you. In fact, I quite admire you. You showed me the error of my ways, revealed to me the truth about the world. You taught me that people are selfish, that we will kill to get what we want. "ALL people. I said I was hailed as a good man, Boris, but I never claimed to have been a good man. If I ever were, then nothing could have brought me to do the things I've done. But something did. I'm sure if my wife had been the one to survive, or one of my kids, they'd have all gone down this very same path. That's right, they weren't good people either. "You can't trust anyone, really. I trust Martin, I suppose, but that doesn't mean I should. After all, if it weren't for him, I'd probably be dead and happy by now. But I'm not sure, Boris, if you really understand what I'm telling you right now. And that is why you must die. Because that is how I will return the favor you gave me, when I tear every shred of humanity from your body." But.... But that doesn't make sense! If you aren't angry, then why....? This isn't about revenge? The scars begin to spread, almost as though Viktor Holding is.... smiling.... "No, it's no about revenge. It's about having something to do in a world where nothing means everything." Fade to black.... The puddles on the ground make a noise, a splashing noise. A head has fallen. It is over. Viktor Holding leans back in his wheelchair, relaxed, at ease, and content. And yet, a question passes through his mind: Now what? He wheels over to Martin Bole, with a look of concern. Bole understands - he knew this was coming. He sets down the camera, removing the tape and placing it in a protective plastic bag. He then hands something to Holding. A detonator. Viktor Holding laughs. Very good - let's hope we're under Times Square. We all become grateful when we're dead. Fires rise up. The tunnels fill with flames. The ground above collapses. The tunnels fill with water. The dead remain dead. Ghosts never return.