Humanity had doomed itself from the beginning of time. It was a common fact. But the time had come, and the third of the seals had been broken. The planet hardly even noticed once Famine walked among them.

Although times had changed since the plan had first been plotted. A great black horse was no longer considered a worthy steed, so that was swiftly changed with one of the machines mortals used to travel with. The scales were swiftly removed as well, quite tragically. It was never truly the judgement that brought great starvation, and reality never had to match legend.

Humans were worse off than the pantheon had first assumed. This modern technology had all but escalated the horrors they'd brought upon themselves. When the sixth seal broke - if anyone even noticed when the time came - they'd likely only pull out one of those horrid little rectangles they all kept in their pockets.

But the congregation of people made his job much easier. Finding victims, even without his noble horse, was a painless task. News stations across the globe would ramble on for hours in fear of the rising statistics of droughts and death, and reporting horror stories about the great famine and the deaths that followed.

Time was coming to a close. No human was safe. Not even the one who happened to live in the neighboring home upon this earthly plane.