J. King - INVASION

Blood-mantled horns splashed into glistening-oil. Segmented arms twitched in the gore. Stingers pumped venom from severed ducts. Natural spines were hacked in two. Unnatural spines squirmed from dying bodies.

Sisay repaid her hard knocks by lopping the head off a Phyrexian foot soldier. Orim sliced into monsters as though she were hacking cane. Tahngarth whipped his horns in a killing arc. Gerrard spitted a beast through the crown. Karn was a silver tornado, crushing and hurling Phyrexians. In the battle frenzy, Squee wisely clambered onto the golem's shoulders, lest he be mistaken for a monster.

In brutal moments, every scaly back and hackled head fell. One by one, the last Phyrexians died. One by one, swords ceased in the air. There was no flesh left to cleave.

Could it be the battle of Koilos was done? Could it be the battle was won? Dominarian troops flooded down, seeking a foe to slay.

"We did it," Gerrard whispered breathlessly. "Karn, we did it!"

Karn studied bloody hands. "Yes," he said heavily. "It is done."

Sitting astride the golem's shoulders, Squee let out a celebratory cry.

Sisay embraced Orim. "Sometimes the good guys do win."

Tahngarth only stood, gazing grimly at the wreckage all around.

The Steel Leaf elves lifted Eladamri on their shoulders and marched him across the battlefield.

A cavern that, moments before, had echoed with battle suddenly rang with celebration.

It was short-lived. Someone arrived from the caves above, someone whose aura had the same strange power as Tsabo Tavoc's.

Songs and shouts quieted. Everyone in the cavern looked up to see who had come.

It was the blind seer-but somehow, he was changed. His back was straight. The bandage was gone from his eyes, which beamed like twin jewels. His white linty hair had been replaced by spun gold. All the aged decrepitude was gone. In its place, there was a mantle of ancient power. He descended into the cavern along the same route Tsabo Tavoc had passed.

Corpses lay prostrate before him. Living warriors watched in wonder. Reverently, they went to their knees. As the blind seer made his way toward the mirror pedestal, every last creature dropped in obeisance.

Only Gerrard and Karn remained standing. Goldenhaired and white-robed, the great man approached the mirror pedestal.

Even Karn dropped to his knees.

Gerrard, his blood dripping down the glass and metal book, glanced incredulously at the silver golem.

Sword still out, he whispered, "You know him?"

"I know of him . I know-somehow-I know that he created me."

Gerrard stared open mouthed between Karn and the blind seer. "He created you?"

"Yes, I did," the man said. "I created Karn and the rest of your Legacy. I created even you."

Gerrard's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

"I am Urza Planeswalker."

"You're what?"

"I am Urza Planeswalker."

"You're Urza Planeswalker?" Gerrard echoed incredulously. He glanced down at Karn, whose head remained bowed.

"Yes. I am the one who started all this. I am the beginning. You are the end. I have made you and your Legacy for this very hour."

Gerrard shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

A strange smile lit the man's face. "I have watched you fight, Gerrard. I have seen you command your ship, your crew. You have been everything I imagined and more. The result is this-victory at Koilos."

"You are the beginning, and I am the end…?"

The shimmering man gestured to the bloody book. "I first opened this portal by removing the powerstone that closed it. Even now, the two halves of that stone reside here, in my skull. They have made me what I am-Urza Planeswalker.

"I have made you what you are-my opposite, my complement, my counterpart. Just as the stones that once opened this portal are part of my being, so, your very being has the power to close it."

"You are the planeswalker," Gerrard said in an amazed hush. He sighed wearily. "So, am I to stay here, on this book, for all eternity?"

"No," Urza Planeswalker replied. "I have the power to open this portal, and you to close it. Together, we have the power to destroy it."

Urza reached to the belt of his white robes and drew forth a mighty sword. It shone like lightning in his grasp. He lifted it above his head.

"Shall we?"

Gerrard raised his notched and bloody blade. The two swords hovered in midair. Then both fell in a singing rush. Together, the blades smashed into the book.

It shattered, flinging glass all about Gerrard. He stood, whole and healthy, in the midst of the lacerating storm. Smoke rolled up from the lines of metal that jagged across the book. Then, they too were destroyed. Metal ran like mercury, sliding to the edges of the pedestal and bleeding down the sides. Even the mirror pedestal lost its gleam. The life went out of that ancient and powerful construct. With a final rolling puff of smoke, the book and pedestal grew still.

Urza sheathed his sword. His voice resonated through the room. "Now and forevermore, the portal of Koilos is closed." He reached up for Gerrard's hand. "Come down."

A little unsteadily, Gerrard took the proffered hand and leaped down beside the planeswalker. The cave wall remained dark. The portal to Phyrexia was destroyed.

Gerrard stared amazedly into the gemstone eyes of the planeswalker. "You made me for this? You created my Legacy, plotted my destiny?"

"I did, Gerrard Capashen," Urza replied quietly.

"I hate you," Gerrard blurted.

"Forgive him, Master Urza," Karn rumbled, still bowing. "He was poisoned by the spider woman-"

"No," Gerrard interrupted. "I mean it. I really do hate you. It wasn't the Phyrexians who took everything from me. It was you. From the beginning of my life, you have destined me to lose everything."

"If you fulfill your destiny, in losing all, you will gain all."

"No. You are wrong," Gerrard said. "I will be your champion, your hero, yes. I will fight the fight I am destined to. But all the while, I will hate you."

Urza's eyes seemed to dim a little with that. "I know. I will count it as one of my own great losses." In that moment, he did not seem the great, ancient, mad planeswalker, but rather an old and lonely man.

Drawing a shuddering breath, Urza went on to say, "Thank you for victory over Llanowar, and victory here." Urza lifted Gerrard's arm high into the air.

"Rise, faithful of Dominaria," Urza shouted. "Arise in victory!"

The cheer that answered shook Koilos like the tread of a titan's boot.

A week later, the Caves of Koilos had been truly cleansed. Every last drop of glistening-oil had been scrubbed away, every last Phyrexian corpse burned. Gargantuas and witch engines, trench worms and scuta had formed a pyre that burned to the heavens for six days. Meanwhile, with due and solemn ceremony, the Dominarian dead had been buried in the desert. Steel Leaf warriors had been laid beside Metathran beside Benalish fighters. The Dominarian coalition had gathered to mourn.

Now fighting and mourning were both done. The time of festival had come.

Armor was polished until its gleamed beneath the Glimmer Moon. Swords were sharpened. Blood and oil were bleached from livery.

Even the titan engines were scoured. No Phyrexian scales remained in mammoth feet that had crushed them. No scorch marks dimmed armor plates. Ray cannons shone as though they had never been fired. Empty of their planeswalker pilots, the titans now stood in a broad circle that stretched from the caves to encompass a large patch of desert. These colossi marked the edges of the festival grounds. Within their circle thronged coalition forces in their tens of thousands. Elf, Metathran, Benalish, dragon- those who had won at Koilos ate and drank, cheered and danced before the caves.