They are The Four

Prologue: August 15, 1983 London

A huddled figure walked along a deserted London street. Nobody - if ever there's any - dared block the entity's way as a strange energy is enough to keep any living being steer clear of his path.

"I have to do it. It's time to wake them up," the entity muttered under its breath for the nth time. "Surely, they would understand. HE would understand."

Earlier, ten distinguished elders secretly met in the library of a polished English manor deciding the destiny of the world. All alike in appearance except for the contemporary clothes each wore as disguise to their heavenly angelic countenance.

"It's time to wake them up. This world is getting worse. It does not deserve His mercy at all," Alaris said.

"And who are you to say that? Are you privy to the Lord's thoughts? Patris asked.

"We know what's going to happen. The humans will consume this planet's resources, destroy it in the process, turn against each other for survival, then eventually destroy themselves. If we 'cleanse' them now, a better race will come from their ashes, one that is so much like what the Lord has always wanted," Alaris said.

"More like what you've always wanted, Alaris. If I remember correctly, you blamed yourself for the fall of man. If it..." Croe let the sentence go unfinished as all the angels suddenly defended what each stood for.

"Quiet! We wait for the Lord's voice. Until it happens, we watch and wait. This is final." With one swift movement, the great Saliel ended the conversation and with it the dismissal of each angel according to each one's assigned Sacros (area).

The huddled Alaris kept glancing at its back while clutching fiercely the four vials of the horsemen's souls.

"I have to put this in four bodies before it's too late." Alaris thought. The entity ran and with one swift movement, took out its angelic wings and flew past the great London bridge.