The Adler Residence, Jameson City NJ
Although his senses were still as sharp as ever, there was a dulling around the edges, which coupled with the current state of his body made the moments damnable in their length. He could perceive family and friends moving closer, whispering sentiments of love and support as he the sharpness of the pain that was breathing.
He was a detective, and as such, he already had deduced what was going on. He knew that ultimately it was his will which kept him alive, always returning to the indomitable will which motivated his life. He tried to move but found the effort more exertive than he had anticipated. Even when terrible wounded as in the past he could feel the effort merited with some response. Now there was none, and he knew quietly it was time.
In many ways, he had expected death for all of his adult life. The tragedies that molded him and the dedication that drove him had prepared him for every eventuality, except growing old. Getting old no matter brief the respite had been the one thing he couldn't prepare for. He of course find some means to cheat it, but in the end, he realized he didn't really want to. There was some respectability to age, his father wore it like a badge of service, and he had done his duty a thousand times over. He had trained directly and through his actions the next generation of heroes. He had personally seen to the instruction of the generations of detectives, costumed and otherwise, who would follow in his footsteps. He did not see that as a point of arrogance: it was preparation for what he had predicted - a world in need.
Faintly, he thought he could hear the sounds of a violin tuning. Although few in the room could determine it, he knew that it was a prelude to what awaited. He swallowed, his eyes staring into the darkness - a creeping darkness which filled the edges and corners of the room. He focused his will, narrowing his eyes to remain conscious. He would not meet death sleeping...this was the one thing he had decided would not happen.
The gathering of family and friends around him dwindled away in his perception, leaving only a few moments and faces to fill the rapidly darkening room. He could hear voices of comrades and even enemies long-dead echoing as if they had just spoken. He could even see what he thought he could make out as a raven resting upon the bust of Pallas Athena, staring as if had that long night nearly eighty years ago down at him. How the irony of the image made him inwardly smile...literary and overblown until the end. A small sigh escaped him - It wasn't long now...he understood his breathing had become shallow and his body had begun to shut down.
Something moved in the darkness. It wasn't the raven nor was it what he expected - either old friends long dead or older enemies long vanquished. He could make out the image now, a short, squat figure staring at him, imploring him with lion-like eyes holding some sort of box. Although they did not exchange any spoken word, he immediately knew the figure and knew why he had come. Thrusting the box forward, the small figure attempted to do what he could to hand the items over, but the final moments, regardless of who was making the attempt, were simply too great. He communicated what he could to the figure, his mind racing now ahead of the end, trying desperately to resolve a silent mystery before it was too late. Unable to communicate the desperation of the small figure's request, the onlookers simply saw him convulsing, the agony of death-throws without the ability to under the stark meaning of the moment. As the darkness suddenly gave way to light, he could feel himself move for the briefest of moments, seizing his hands upon the proffered box and taking a single object from its contents. It was all he could do in his last action to save the world.
----
The friends and family wept and silently bid farewell. The family doctor made the pronouncement and quietly allowed the morticians their opportunity to collect the body. After decades of fighting the good fight, those present thought they walked away with the knowledge that the Black Raven died as he lived - Fighting.
How wrong they were.
It wasn't the last battle - It was the first.
Only, no one understood it.
-----
Destined
Marscon 2016
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