To serve.

He stared up at the sun defiantly as the moon began to move in front of it. Standing here atop Fort Knox his view of the eclipse was perfect. More importantly, his celestial alignment was at it's maximum potency for the ritual.

"Steve, your glasses."

He turned and blinked at his assistant, Reece. The poor boy was doomed. He was fine at assisting but that seemed to be the extent of his talents. He was holding everything Steve needed but in a way that infuriated him. His camera was pinched to his body with the right elbow, the strap hanging down near the ground dangerously. His coffee cup was in his right hand held from underneath precariously. He offered the eclipse glasses, held between two outstretched fingers, with his left.

"Fuck it." Steve sneered, turning his attention back to the spectacle above. "Did you do the thing?"

"Yes..." Reece replied. "Why did you make me d-"

"I didn't make you do anything." Steve snapped.

"Ok." Reece said quickly. "But it was weird. At first, the doll wouldn't burn and then it suddenly caught fire. It burned so quickly and brightly. But only... After I..."

"After you said the words."

"Yes."

"Good." As the eclipse reached it's climax above them he held out his hand to Reece, who then handed him the coffee cup. Removing the lid, Steve threw the contents, ashes created by Reese's ritual, off of the roof and into the wind. "Seder pe’ulat ha-yetsirah." He said.

"Seder pe’ulat ha-yetsirah." Reece muttered, automatically.

Steve's eyes stung as he watched the sun reappear from the moon's shadow. Probably destroyed my eyesight, he thought absently. Good thing Moshiach was near. None of it mattered anymore. He looked out across the water and sighed.

"Reece, what is your purpose?" He asked him.

"To serve you, sir." He replied immediately and with absolute conviction.

"Good." Steve said, nodding. He stepped towards Reece swiftly, grabbed him by his belt and his collar, and tossed him from the roof. To his credit, Reece fell silently to his death. As he smashed fatally against the ground below Steve admired him for that. So many die screaming and without dignity.

"You're welcome." He said down to his lifeless body. Doomed, he thought, but at least he had a purpose.  So many more would die clawing for that and never achieving it. Reece had been lucky. Suddenly, his pocket was full of Wagner. He reached into it and retrieved his ringing cellphone.

"What?"

"Did you see the news?" It was Miller, his man in the White House, and he never called with good news.

"What did our naked emperor do?"

"He stared directly up at the eclipse like a dumbass. Three times. The press is having a field day with his senile ass."

"Is that all?" Steve laughed.

"This stuff is adding up. It matters, Steve." Miller insisted.

"Oh, I don't know." Steve said. He looked down over the edge of the building and saw Reece staring back up at him. He was standing in the pool of blood he'd created after he'd been thrown completely motionless save for the movement of the wind in his long black hair. "Maybe he's like me. Maybe he's just saying 'Fuck it.'."

Miller began to speak again but Steve hung up and returned the phone to his pocket. He spoke down to Reece in barely more than a whisper.

"What is your purpose?" He asked him, again.

"TO SERVE YOU!" It roared back up to him in one voice that sounded like one hundred.

"That's right." He told it with a grin. "Now, go get the car."

He gave the sun a final glance. It was finished. The sun was whole again and blinding as always. For now, at least. Crescent shaped artifacts danced across his vision after he tore himself away from it.

"Fuck it." he said, and headed for the stairs.