A Prelude To Destruction - Chapter 1Chapter 1: Lost in the woods It was a cursed forest where very few dared to enter, but nonetheless, a winged woman was walking in between the great tall trees that thrived, and these kings of the plant world didn't care at all about the place's haunted reputation. But then again, they had grown there long before the forest became blighted. All sorts of creatures avoided these woods, but the winged woman wasn't one of them. She defied the hidden darkness that resided in here just with her presence; this wasn't her first time wandering together with the shades which the thick branches and their foliage casted. However, her defiance came with a price, for her once pure white wings had taken the color of dark blue instead, though there was still some light blue in the tips. Who knew when they would turn dark too, if she continued to visit the forest. The decision wasn't hers to make. Though light wings or dark wings, she still retained an angelic look, for she had a slender body and long white hair with a little bit silver in them. She had golden eyes with a strong look in them. A powerful aura surrounded her and undoubtedly there was a sense of authority in her appearance, especially her beautiful blue clothes that were a telltale sign of someone who wasn't an ordinary person. It wasn't hard to believe for an individual like her to risk their life in a place like this. As she calmly walked further into the woods, a horrifying sound reached the woman's ears. It wasn't anything strange to her, but no matter how many times she would hear it, it never became easier to bear. It was the disturbing and heartbreaking cry of a ghost child, left abandoned in the forest right after their birth. They never had a chance in life, they never grew up or learned about the countless things this world had to offer. All they could do was cry and yearn for a proper burial – which would never come. The woman felt sorry for all the little ones that had been abandoned in the forest, but there was nothing she could do for them. The woman was approaching a part of the woods where the vegetation was more dense. The sunlight was barely able to touch the forest floor, but a few sneaky beams of light managed to slip through the branches and leaves. Carefully she kept her eyes on the undergrowth, for what she was seeking could be found around these parts, based on her experience. Keeping a keen eye on the plants, she eventually spotted some she was looking for: a blue herb with white berries that resembled cloudberry. She picked all of them from the spot, gently putting them inside the bag she was carrying. Once she had harvested them, she continued her travel even deeper into the woods, hoping to find even more of them. The need for these precious herbs was getting increasingly dire. She was familiar with the woods and with its few critters and sensations; she was probably the most knowledgeable person in the world when it came to this forest. And yet, as she proceeded to even deeper parts of the woods, a weird sensation was pestering her mind like an annoying insect. There was a presence somewhere nearby, something she wasn't familiar with. She had to check it out, it was her duty. Guided by this sensation, she ventured towards the part of the woods that was probably the darkest and most dangerous one. For this reason, she had to hurry, because if there somehow was someone who needed aid, the likelihood for them getting devoured by the forest was growing minute by minute. Something was rippling in the air, a powerful impression that felt almost electrifying. The woman was able to recognize it as a form of magic. It was a rather strong one, too. Whoever had ended up in this part of the woods wasn't an ordinary person. While there was a chance that they were capable of doing alright on their own, the woman wanted to check their condition. She had to help them if needed. Thanks to the mysterious ripples that traveled through the air, the woman could easily pinpoint the location of the foreign presence she had been sensing. She came to a small clearing where all these sensations were mixed in together, swirling around like a whirlpool of energy. A shred of a sky could be seen above, something that wasn't possible in most parts of the woods. It was clear to the woman that something had fallen from heaven, crashing into the trees of the forest and hitting the forest floor. On some of the branches and on bushes and other plants were having light purple wisps of magic dancing around, as a remnant that something magical had happened here as the power still lingered. All that now remained were three unconscious creatures whose kind the woman hadn't seen ever before. A white raven, a black cat and a mostly green deer-like creature. The woman could see that they were bipedal since they all possessed fingers. All of them were about the size of a human child, making the raven and the cat larger than the animals they represented, while the third one was smaller than a deer. The cat and the raven had strange markings decorating their bodies, the cat having white marks while the raven had purple ones. The third creature diverged in this trait as well, as their body was partly covered in green scales while the front had a pale color. But all three of them shared one feature: they all had horns. There were two purple horns on the head of the raven, two blue horns on the head of the cat and one horn on the head of the deer-like creature, gradually turning from a shade of green to darker green. The woman had no idea where these beings had come from; she had never heard of such creatures as these three. But she knew she couldn't just leave them here, she could learn their story later. She walked to them, crouched a little bit and placed her hand lightly on the side of the closest critter, the cat. They were breathing normally and the heart was beating. The woman did this brief inspection on all of them, coming to the conclusion that they all were doing alright, they just had been knocked unconscious by something. It was desired that they would stay in a good state, so the woman began to wake them up. Blue little swirls were circling around her hand as she moved it slowly near the heads of each creature. These twirls would gently touch them, beckoning them to awaken. The woman's magic worked and one by one the three creatures opened their eyes and sluggishly raised their bodies from the moss bed to a sitting position. They looked very much confused, clearly not recognizing their surroundings at all. But the woman noticed that there was also something else: they didn't identify who they were. However, this wasn't the right place to resolve these things. “Can you all stand?” the woman asked from the trio as she got on her feet again. The creatures still were puzzled; it was as if they had slumbered for centuries and had no knowledge of the world around them. They glanced around, then looked at each other with great perplexity; it seemed like that they didn't know each other, but at the same time, they did. For a little while they tried to understand what kind of bond they had between each other, but failed. This also confused the winged woman, because it only deepened the mystery how these three had ended up here. But again, this wasn't the right time and space for figuring these things out. “Are you able to stand?” the winged woman asked again. The trio shifted their gaze at her, trying to identify her. But just like with everything else so far, they had no idea who she was. Time for proper introductions would come later, even these three seemed to understand this, and they started to get on their feet. Their movements were wobbly, like with baby animals, and it gave an impression that they hadn't stood for a long time – if ever before. Eventually, however, they managed to find some sort of balance and not for a moment too soon. A terrible howl echoed through the forest; it was hollow, hungry and suffering. It was the most dreaded creature in the whole place, the reason why most people would stay away. While the winged woman was well aware that such abominations were on the prowl continuously in the forest, she really had hoped that they wouldn't encounter one. “Dammit”, she muttered to herself. “We have to go. Follow me.” The three creatures just nodded to her and hurried after her as she began to show the way and guide them out of the forest. Even more of those eerie howls joined in with the first one; whatever being it was, it hunted as a pack. Usually they were after the many souls of children that still lingered in these woods, but whenever possible, they preferred fresh souls. The winged woman was afraid that they had already got the scent of her and her little surprise companions. She wasn't too worried, however, she had dealt with such beasts before; she was a much more powerful entity than them. But never before had she had little beings with her that needed her protection. The woman tried to be as swift as possible while passing through the forest. Unfortunately, she was unlucky today and even though they had managed to move quite a distance without any conflict, suddenly a dark critter appeared from the shadows right in front of them. It resembled a huge and hideous wolf, its fur had a dark purple color. Its tail was thin and had some lavender feathers at the tip. These same feathers were also poking out from various other parts of its body, such as in the neck, elbows and lower thighs. Its bright red eyes were fixed at the small group and a deep growl was coming from its insides; it saw the winged woman and the three creatures as prey. Fearlessly the winged woman stepped forth while the trio remained in the background, not really fazed by the danger in front of them. A magical energy started to surge around the woman's right arm, engulfing it in a white glow. The dark wolf-like being got closer to her, measuring her with its red eyes. Then the woman raised her hand towards the beast and a white blast got shot from her hand, a holy light, hitting the monster in the head. It fell to the ground, but was it dead or just unconscious, it was hard to tell. Nonetheless, there was no need to kill it right now, the winged woman just wanted to get past it. “Come, quickly”, she said to the three creatures and pressed onwards, the trio continuing to follow her. The eerie howls sounded more and more distant; perhaps they had decided to go after the poor souls of the children trapped in the forest. This was a good sign, the winged woman thought, and while they still were in a danger zone, they weren't in immediate peril anymore. Confidently she dared to slow down her pace now and so did the three creatures she had found. The trees around them started to gradually thin out and more daylight managed to get through the branches, blessing the plants on the forest floor. The winged woman was feeling relief, for they would soon get out of the cursed woods. The whole world seemed brighter when the small group reached the tree line. The sunlight was absolutely radiant, something the three pairs of eyes weren't used to and they shielded their eyes with their hands. The beautiful songs of birds could be heard, an indication that things were well. A slight breeze was gently stroking the leaves of the trees, sounding a bit like humming. It was strange how different the world was outside the cursed forest. As the three creatures followed the winged woman out of the shadows of the trees, they couldn't help but notice that there were statues made from pale stone standing by the edge of the forest, having quite a bit of distance between each other. They were rather tall, almost as tall as the trees, and they depicted a feminine humanoid figure with four arms and strange antennas on her head. There was something holy in her appearance. All three of them stopped to stare at the closest one and it invoked strange familiarity within them. It was almost like they knew who this woman was, but had no memory of her. The winged woman noticed that the trio wasn't following her anymore and that their gazes were fixated on the statue. “Who… is she?” the black cat asked, much to the surprise of the winged woman. So, these little creatures could talk. The cat had just spoken with a female voice, but it also sounded like she wasn't used to talking, like she hadn't used her voice ever before. “This is the Mother Goddess”, the winged woman answered as she took a step closer to the trio. “These are the holy statues of her that guard the forest, preventing any evil escaping as long as they are standing here. Haven't you heard of her before?” The trio gave quick glances at each other as if trying to find out who had the answer. But then they just shook their heads. “We don't know…” said the raven and although the voice sounded a bit raspy, perhaps having the same case as the cat, it clearly was a female voice as well. “We don't know anything. Not even who we are… We seem to have a connection with each other, but that's all.” “That's… interesting”, the winged woman muttered thoughtfully. “Well, I'll guide you to the nearest village. We can talk about your situation more there.” She turned around and headed towards a small path that was going through another set of trees. It clearly wasn't used much, but it wasn't overgrown either. Oddly, it seemed like the trees around it were bent a little bit, guarding this little path. The three creatures were all glancing around with a child-like wonder while following the winged woman. The sensation of these woods was so much different than in the cursed forest where they had woken up, of course they would find it fascinating. The winged woman got the feeling that they were like children, not being familiar with the world around them at all. It was strange. And now that they had left the cursed forest, she noticed something else about the three creatures. Now that the tainted energy wasn't suppressing them anymore, they were emitting power that reeked of divinity. But what did that mean, the winged woman wasn't sure and she was lost deep in thought while walking forward, barely paying any attention to the trio. Usually the winged woman would just fly this part when making her trips to the cursed forest, it was much faster. But now, as she had a small group of odd beings following her, she had to walk, since probably only one of them had the ability to fly. But the journey to the nearest village wasn't a long one and soon enough the path guarded by trees started to brighten up and the trees were moving out of the way. Only a little bit away the group could see the village, a tiny settlement in the middle of woodlands. The buildings were cozy ones, although a little bit old, white with dark wood decorating their frames. The folks were walking around and doing their chores, and the three creatures noted that most of them looked like the winged woman, except they didn't have wings. There was a lot of curiosity in their little eyes as they got closer, having lots of questions popping in their minds, but the winged woman wasn't the one who would provide answers. Even now, she had closed herself inside her head and didn't seem responsive to the outside world. When they reached the first buildings, a little strident female voice then made its way to the little group's ears: “Lady Ihtiriekko! Lady Ihtiriekko!” A small creature hurried towards them and she looked much different than the few individuals the trio had seen so far. She resembled a mole, had dark grey skin, pale blond long hair tied to a bun, huge green eyes, a little strange snout with whiskers on it and her hands were broad, possessing big claws. She was wearing a pink dress with a headpiece. She huffed a little after her sprint and bent over a bit. “Lady Ihtiriekko, you're back! Oh, I didn't know you would return so soon, I'm not quite finished with the task and – “ The winged woman pushed her aside coldly and continued moving forward. “No matter. Take care of our guests.” Then she just walked away, leaving a group of confused creatures behind. “Our guests?” the being with the whiskers said quietly and looked at the trio and it seemed that only at that moment she registered their presence. “Oh… Oh! Hello there, haven't seen you before! Who might you be?” The three creatures shared glances with each other once more, as if one of them had somehow acquired the knowledge about their identity during their travel from the woods. But of course, all three of them were just as clueless as before. “We don't know who we are or anything, really…” said the deer-like creature, speaking with a male voice, and he too sounded like he wasn't used to talking. “That winged woman… She found us and brought us here.” “I see, I see…” The trio's new acquaintance appeared consumed by thoughts for a minute and she observed the group with her green eyes. Then she spoke again: “Well, you better follow me, then. You obviously are a little confused so let's shed light on some things, shall we?”My Guardian BeastDreams of his homeland had guided Akruul back to the north. Longing had found its way into his heart, which eventually led to him making the decision to visit his hometown. Years had passed when he walked out of the little settlement, turning his back to the place that held his roots. How long had it been, maybe even ten years? It was about time for Akruul to return and see how the town was doing nowadays. He had left it in hopes of adventure and becoming a heroic warrior. Now he had seen many corners of the world and had grown quite a swordsman, slaying monsters. He had achieved all he had dreamed of, and maybe that was one more reason for him to return to his hometown, just so he could share his success and stories with the people that had belonged to his childhood. Winter had come early in the north, Akruul noticed as he slowly moved through the lands. It almost felt like in one moment there was a green and lush world around him, but suddenly everything got covered in pure white snow. But growing up in these parts, Akruul knew it was nothing unusual for the winter to sneakily arrive ahead of time. As he wandered through the snowy landscape, he felt a strange warmth in his heart. Perhaps it was because he was getting close to his old home and was feeling sentimental already. It was alright, however, and even though he was an experienced warrior honed by many battles, he allowed himself to feel soft emotions. And so Akruul smiled slightly as he walked on the path that had recently formed into the snow; now, there had never been too many foreigners visiting this northern land, but sometimes merchant caravans remembered the existence of the settlement and would come to pay a visit there. It seemed like this was the case right now as there were multiple tracks in snow. Well, at least it would make Akruul's travel a little easier, although the heaviest snow blanket was still yet to come. It took Akruul a couple of days traversing in the snow before he reached his destination. Surrounded by a silent white forest, Akruul climbed on the hill and from there, he could see the little town. He stopped for a moment and observed the settlement that had formed downhill, right by a black tall rock. It was like nothing had changed during these years he had been away; everything looked exactly the same when he had last seen the town. Smoke was coming out from most of the chimneys, rising higher into the air, giving a sign that there was still life bustling under the snow-covered roofs. The exterior of the town seemed the same, but how were the people? To get an answer for this question, Akruul began to walk down the hill, and there wasn't much distance left between him and his old hometown. As Akruul stepped on the grounds of the town, he almost felt like he had walked back to his childhood. His sentimental feelings were growing stronger now as he strolled among the little buildings, the cozy homes of the townsfolk. He hadn't encountered anyone yet, but he wasn't worried; anyone would rather be sheltered in the warmth of their homes rather than being out in the cold. Though he remembered the people being resilient, it was needed in these rather harsh conditions. Snow, ice and cold were something that didn't discourage the townsfolk, they still were able to thrive. So, as Akruul made his way further into the town, he started to get an odd feeling when there was no one around. Until he finally spotted someone. In the fading daylight a hunched figure came to his view, a thick coat covering their body, like one would expect. It was an old woman and Akruul actually recognized her; she was the lady Imasan, one of the village elders and a known storyteller, Akruul and other children had enjoyed her stories back in the day. “Imasan!” Akruul said loudly to get the old woman's attention, rushing towards her. She turned to face him after hearing her name and for a brief moment she was squinting her eyes as she tried to figure out who was talking to her. Eventually she did recognize the man and a joyful expression spread on her old wrinkled face. “Akruul! My goodness, you have grown into such a handsome young man! It's been so long since the last time I saw you, how are you doing?” “I've been doing good, thank you”, Akruul replied as he stepped closer to the old woman. “Where is everyone? It's not that much of a cold day.” A shade appeared on old Imasan's face and she shook her head. “Well, things have changed a little after you left… You see, a beast has been plaguing our lives for about ten years. It's time for our annual winter celebration, but ever since the beast appeared, we haven't really been able to celebrate… It's almost like it loathes the festivities, attacking our village in frenzy if we gather around and rejoice together. So now the folks celebrate indoors and only with their families. It's a sad thing, really… It does come to the village other times too, but especially when we join together to have a good time.” “Oh, I almost forgot the winter celebration”, Akruul said and glimpses of childhood memories quickly flashed in his mind. “Do you know where the beast makes its lair? I can try to slay it.” “Well, you certainly look strong”, Imasan responded and there was a little trace of a smile visiting her otherwise worried face. “We don't know exactly where its nest is, but it always comes from the north. I'm sorry, but that's all I know.” “It's alright, Imasan”, Akruul replied and tried to assure her with a smile. “I can track it down. I'll come back soon.” “Good luck, my dear boy”, the old woman said and for a second she grasped Akruul's hand firmly. The man nodded and he squeezed her hand. They both let go and Akruul walked past her, heading to the north. The old woman watched him go, keeping her eyes on him for as long as she could. At that moment, snow began to gently and softly fall and it didn't take long before Akruul had disappeared behind this white curtain. Imasan tried to send good luck to Akruul through her heart and then she waddled away, heading home, her hope on the young man. Akruul walked across the snowy lands like a lone spirit. The world around him was completely silent and there was nothing but pure whiteness all around him. It was almost like he was wandering through a dream world, completely detached from reality. The snowfall was hindering his movements a little bit and if it was going to last for long, then it would make it really hard to push through all that freshly fallen snow. It would also hide all the possible trails made by the beast. However, there were many other ways to track a monster or an animal, you just had to keep your eyes and ears open on your surroundings. Akruul had learned a few things during his travels and developed keen senses. He let his gaze wander in the surrounding trees, monsters often left claw marks on them or if they had the ability to fly, there would be lots of broken branches on top of the trees. So far he hadn't noticed anything, though. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching him, observing his every move through the snowy woodlands. Perhaps it was the beast he was hunting. The problem was, he didn't see anything abnormal around him, just complete whiteness. He tried to focus on hearing, but there was nothing but silence. The feeling was almost haunting, like he got trapped in a dimension where there were only him and the beast, hunting each other. Akruul didn't like it at all. But he could only move forward. A sudden roar tore apart the silence of the white world, resonating in the winter air. It was a fierce and powerful roar, Akruul hadn't heard anything like it before. He felt a strange familiarity with it, which confused him. He pushed this bewilderment aside, however, and focused on locating the beast. It didn't seem like the roar had come from far away. Before Akruul was even able to begin this part of the hunt, he saw something in the distance, a creature of some kind that was looking at him among the trees. It was weird. This thing wanted to be found. But it didn't appear hostile, not yet at least. Akruul stopped for a moment to stare at the beast. It was quadruped and mostly white, so no wonder it could blend in with the snow. It had cerulean stripes decorating its body, like the ones of a tiger. The strangest part was that it appeared to have three heads: one of a tiger, one of a horse and one of a dragon. The being was a weird mix match of various creatures. But to Akruul, a beast is a beast, no matter what it looks like. The man was ready to draw his sword while still maintaining eye contact with the monster. He slowly got his trusty weapon out, but the beast wasn't really reacting at all. It continued to watch him for a moment, but then it leisurely turned around and started to walk away, but its horse head made a movement that signaled him to follow. Akruul was greatly baffled by this, but also extremely curious. He lowered his weapon, but didn't put it back to sheath, just in case he would need it. He decided to do what the beast wanted and started to follow it. Maybe this was a trap. Maybe he should just turn around. But he wanted to figure out what was going on with this creature. Perhaps he could find out why it has been attacking the village. Akruul maintained a safe distance while tailing the beast, just in case, although it still hadn't shown signs of aggression towards him. It kept going straight forward for a good while before it decided to take a turn to the left, starting to climb uphill. Akruul was sort of grateful for the beast to show him the way, because the trail it left on the snow made it easier for him to move. Occasionally he was left behind a little bit, but he noted that the beast would keep an eye on him and it would stop just so he could catch up. Where was it leading him? Akruul had no idea. It was such a tiring task to walk uphill that Akruul was grateful when they were traveling on an even surface again. They pushed through the snowy woodlands for a while before a tall black rock suddenly came into view; it was almost like it had just emerged from the ground, thrusting towards the sky. The beast started to circle around it, like it was looking for something. Then Akruul noticed a mouth of a cavern in the rock, which was probably what the beast was searching for. His hunch turned out to be right as the monster disappeared inside it. Akruul stopped at the entrance and hesitated. Why had the beast led him here? What could possibly lurk in this cave? He still had the chance to turn around. But he would never get answers to his questions if he didn't enter. His grasp on the hilt of his weapon tightened and he stepped inside the cold and dark cave. He walked through a tunnel for a while, almost in total darkness, but then a blue light appeared in the distance. It was an eerie light, but it also became his guide. He could see the figure of the beast standing in the far end of the tunnel, right by the chamber where the light was coming from. It followed the man with its gaze, all three heads staring at him. It was rather unsettling, but Akruul walked closer until he finally reached the chamber. Akruul wasn't sure what he had expected to find from there. Maybe a treasure of some kind. Maybe a litter of similar beasts or some kind of other creature this monster was taking care of. Maybe even a human. The last part turned out to be right, but in a way that confused Akruul the most. He was staring at himself. Not exactly who he was now, but a child version of him. Akruul didn't know how to respond to this and just stared at the little boy whom he had once been. The same black hair, the same blue eyes. Akruul was so baffled by this that he almost lost the grip of his sword. “What the hell is this…?” Akruul muttered. His younger self didn't say anything. The beast, on the other hand, stepped closer to the man and gently pushed him in the back with its dragon head, guiding him towards the little boy. All of this was so strange and Akruul glanced at the beast that just nodded to him. It wanted him to get closer to the little boy for some reason. He shifted his gaze back at his younger self. How was this possible? Was this some magic trick? The boy didn't move or show any emotion, which made Akruul a little terrified. But he wanted to know whether the boy was a real living thing or just a mirage, so he reached for the child, touching him to the shoulder. A flood of memories and sensations filled Akruul's head, it was like they had been locked away – or maybe even erased – from his mind. But now, he was reliving the most horrible years of his life. How his parents had fallen into ice, swallowed by the dark freezing waters, just because Akruul had forgotten his favorite fishing rod on the ice. How his big brother became resentful toward him because of this, blaming him for the demise of their parents, and hated that he had to take care of him now. How the brother started to spread venomous lies about him so all the other children would exclude him from everything and remind him that it was his fault that his parents had died. How the winter celebration he had loved to spend with his family became just utterly miserable to him, because his brother neglected him. All the hatred and grudge were coming back to him, something that had been sealed away for ten years, because he had split himself into two entities; one was the child filled by hate and the other one was the heroic warrior he had dreamed of becoming. All the horrible memories were carried by the child, while the adult Akruul remained completely oblivious to what he had experienced in his younger years. But now, it was time for them to merge, to become one. Akruul opened up his heart and took in all the horrendous memories, all the hatred and grudge. The child version of him turned into an entity of white blinding light and this light sunk into Akruul's chest, disappearing inside him. He understood it all now. Why the beast was attacking the village, what its role was. It had simply taken care of the part of him no one else wanted. Akruul turned to face the beast. With his hand, he reached for the dragon head and petted it tenderly. “Thank you for showing me the truth”, Akruul said. It was time to raid the village one last time. Akruul hoped that his brother was still alive.Father Of Hundred WretchesAnd all of them had gathered around, all the immature and ugly, all the wicked without identity. They were a sad lot but persistent and they had remained in this polluted land waiting for this day to come. Decades ago they lost their purpose, roaming these forlorn streets like dead spirits that didn't know how to move on. This was their empire, built by their father from steel and cogs and springs. The sky above them had lost its brightness permanently, stained black by coal. The sun and moon and stars had stopped visiting the town a long time ago, repelled by the pollution of the different machines and factories that operated on a daily basis. This was the home of these poor wretches and there was absolutely no one who loved them. “Daddy! Daddy!” Their moans filled the air of the town of misery, sounding so extremely haunting that it would disturb even the bravest. They marched through the streets like veins of filth upon the paved ground. One could easily find their appearances pitiful, for they had been mutilated and molded into something unnatural. But these were the unholy children of the father, such a bond would never break. Some of the wretches had mutated into beings that barely resembled a human anymore, having either too few or too many limbs. Some had even grown spikes on their bodies. But mostly they had crudely become half man, half machine. A black metal now tarnished their grotesque bodies, replacing parts of them with varied severity. Limbs, organs, patches of skin… Some had a clockwork running their rotten brains. They were absolutely hideous, an insult to mother nature. And yet, they existed and had become part of this world. The little wretches had all got drawn to a mansion at the edge of town, summoned by a mysterious force, almost like telepathy that connected their fragmented minds. There hadn't been much going on inside their skulls during their miserable pointless lives, but this was something that had ignited some sort of thoughts and even longing. They were all part of something bigger; they knew this deep down in their rotten souls, but since their creation, since their rebirth, they hadn't been quite complete yet to be useful in the grand scheme of things. They knew nothing but loneliness and violence, but now, they could sense that things were about to change, that they would learn something else – but what, they didn't know yet. It was almost impossible to tell, but as the wretches were joining together, it had become nighttime. The sky was even more black than usual and made it look like their little polluted town was floating in the middle of a void where there was no escape from. The darkness was somewhat cast away by the lamps powered by electricity, but even in their illumination the town was dim. On the courtyard where the wretches were gathering, a cluster of lamp posts that had been carefully crafted into black pieces of art were surrounding the area, offering light for the grandest celebration the most miserable dwellers of the town had ever participated in. While the whole town was vastly in a state of decay and disrepair, the mansion appeared surprisingly well kept. The pavement in front of the building was still in good condition and the flower beds had actually been taken care of. They were blooming, thriving, unlike anything else in the town. But how could they possibly flourish in a place that hadn't been graced by sun in a lifetime? And yet, they did, blossoming in black and purple and white, as if mocking the rest of the plant world for being able to do this while everything else was withering. Perhaps it was one of the father's achievements as well. “Daddy! Daddy!” The creatures of filth and sin were crying out in front of the great building that had once been the home of their father. Still it appeared as a place suitable enough for the country's elite to wine and dine in. The mansion was black, like drenched in ink. But it had a grand design, all the windowsills and the one magnificent balcony on the front were beautifully shaped. Even after the passing of father, it still retained the look of belonging to a wealthy and successful man. It wasn't abandoned at all, no, somebody else had taken it as their home. The door on the balcony slowly opened and forth came a figure. Somebody who appeared as a young man even though they had already lived decades, just another testimony of the father's brilliance. His right eye, part of skull, the whole contents of his chest and right arm and hand had been replaced by the black metal. This was the first son of the father and the only one who was his own flesh and blood. And still he had made him part machine, perhaps to prolong his life, loving him too much to let go. But alas, it was the father himself who had lost his life. All that was left behind was his heart. Right at that moment, the first son was holding this heart in his hands. He stepped forward on the balcony, to be closer to the crowd that had gathered on the courtyard. He raised the heart above his head with both hands, holding it up for all the wretches to see. They cheered loudly after catching a glimpse of this one and only piece that was left of their father. The heart was still beating, although slowly. It almost looked like a normal human heart, but it had turned black. Perhaps by coal, perhaps by his own design. But to the wretches this was the most precious relic, it was the one thing that connected them. They would even be prepared to die for it if they had to. “Brothers!” the first son shouted loudly, his voice carrying into the ears of the wretches, and they suddenly went silent. “We were left with the ultimate sorrow when those beasts that called themselves righteous slayed our dear father. In the end, after all these decades, nothing was left of him except his heart – and his greatest work yet.” The first son paused his speech for a moment and lowered the heart to look at it fondly. He had taken care of it all these years, so this day would finally come. Then he returned his attention to the crowd and they were hungry to hear more, he and the heart were their full focus. It was almost like their brains were working as one, like cogs in a machine. And the first son started to speak again: “I took it as my responsibility to care for our father's heart, to ensure his legacy was safe. Most of you don't know this, but our father was working on something grandeur that was then left unfinished when he passed away. I believed it was my sacred duty to continue our father's work and I studied his notes with utmost care. And I understood them, our father's ingenuity, I could claim his visions as mine. I continued his work where he left it, but it truly was a tough one. It took me decades to finish what he had started, but I did it! And because of this, my dear brothers, we have gathered here tonight. Our father shall live once more!” The group of wretches cheered again, this time even louder, and their bellow was heard by the whole town. The first son disappeared back into the mansion with the heart while the crowd of the mutilated ones were left to wait. Their excitement was immeasurable, but they were patient. After all, they had already waited for years. And then, finally, their wait was over. The wretches were practically screeching from joy, their voices distorted when they saw the main entrance of the mansion creaking open. From the dark bowels of the grand building came forth a figure, one completely made of black metal. The wretches hadn't seen this form before, but they knew who it was. This person marched out of the mansion with heavy steps and walked closer to the crowd, the light of the lamps shining on his black metal body. He was twice as tall as a regular man and all his plates of metal had been carefully crafted to perfection. He had the head of a hawk with shiny blue eyes and there were other bird-like details in his body, such as talons on his feet and hands and wings on his back. And in the exposed metal ribcage, a black heart was beating; the heart of the father. After all these years, they had got their father back, in the form of a metal deity. He had seen the awfulness of the mankind who had forgotten their god. Disgusted, the father had then begun to build a new god for people, something real they could pray to. A machine was perfect for this, for it was something that would not get bewildered by human emotions. And its body would last the tides of time, the fangs that would normally gnaw at the bodies of mortals would be deflected by the perfect metal shell. These were the visions the father had been guided by when he started to work on creating a new deity for this broken world, but he had never thought that he would be the one to give his machinery the consciousness. But so it happened after the first son had inserted his heart into the machine. There was no more flesh on his body, no more blood running through his veins. Physical human weaknesses didn't apply to him anymore, except maybe the heart, the only organ he still had, his very core. He was a perfect organism, god of metal and steam. But a machine can't show fondness, can't bring warmth through a mere touch. As the father stood there by the entrance of his mansion, in this moment of reincarnation, he felt proud for his children, especially for the first son. But alas, he couldn't show this for all these miserable little beings he had disfigured, he couldn't show any emotion at all. He could just look at them all and feel the pride in his core. The first son had appeared by his side, a loving expression on his face as he looked directly at the metal structure that was now hosted by the father's consciousness. “Welcome back, father. We missed you.” Shifting his gaze from the crowd of wretches to the first son, the father replied with a metallic sound: “I didn't expect to become a living being anymore. But your love has brought me back from the dead, in a greater form than when I was killed. My son, I am proud of you; you did a magnificent job at completing my last project.” The first son gave him a respectful bow and said: “I appreciate your words, father, with all my heart. I simply couldn't stand your unjust death. I did what I had to.” “You have my gratitude.” The father then looked at the wretches again. If he could smile, he would be doing it right now while observing the beings he had personally turned into these hideous abominations that were against human nature. So royally he had wrecked their brains that they thought of him as a holy figure, feeling affection rather than resentment. It was just one more thing he had succeeded at. And now, his brilliant mind had returned into this world. Tonight, a new era shall begin, and he, as the deity of the machine, would bring forth a better future and make people believe again.trophyJust A Needle To Your HeadThere was this sickness in Rowan's brain. And it was getting worse. An invisible disease, but far worse than some physical ailments. It made him question the reality itself and turned him weak and was barely even a person anymore. There was suffering Rowan couldn't describe. When walking outside on the streets of this wretched town, he was envious of other people. They knew nothing of the mental anguish. Or maybe some did, but had learned how to live with it, thus making Rowan jealous. To him, even the sun didn't bring warmth and brightness anymore to his miserable soul. But the question was, should he seek help? Could someone like him even be helped? He pondered this many days and nights, but eventually he came to the conclusion that he would at least try. You don't have that option anymore after you die. He visited a doctor, a person who had clearly seen many sad and broken people in his life. What would lead an individual to seek such a profession? Is it merely the noble idea of wanting to help people? Or is there something else? Rowan didn't know and it didn't really even matter. It was hard to be vulnerable in front of a complete stranger. The doctor probably wouldn't call him crazy – or maybe he would – since that would be quite unprofessional. He was a quiet and calm man, asking questions from Rowan, but mostly let Rowan tell his story and listened. Somehow this felt wrong for Rowan. He was a grown independent man, he should be able to handle life better than this, now he was way too fragile. And when life gets too hard, you turn to the bottle. Maybe Rowan should have tried that instead of sitting in the office of a stranger, complaining about his disease-ridden brain. Such a stupid brain he got. And the strange thing was, that's where Rowan's memory blacks out. For a moment he was in the doctor's office talking to him, but then something occurred that just simply erased all his memories after that. Did he ever finish the session with the doctor? Has he ever made it home? Maybe he got into a severe accident while walking back to the place he called home; his safe space, though it was infested with the darkness of his mind and felt like anything else but a sanctuary. And Rowan tried and tried, so hard to grasp the strings of his memories to recall what the hell had happened to him. It seemed they were there barely out of his reach, but anytime he managed to get close to them, they would drift away from him, taunting him in an infuriating way. Perhaps he should just give up on this task and focus on the present. Rowan couldn't help the feeling that he had ended up in a scenario straight from a horror movie. He was a prisoner, lying on a table with numerous straps wrapped around various parts of his body, preventing him from moving. Even his head was confined, so he couldn't really look around. Anxiety was no stranger to him, but the fear that now tiptoed into his heart was on a completely different level. He wiggled like a lowly worm, struggling against his bindings. It was no use. He could only stare at the ceiling and let the terror grow inside. He looked at the tiles above him. They had probably been white at some point in time, but now they were filthy and some even cracked. There was a dome-like lamp on the ceiling, but it wasn't currently lit. Some source of light was clearly giving him illumination, but being tied up like this, he couldn't tell exactly where the glow was coming from. A few times the light flickered ominously. For a moment Rowan was pondering whether the unreliable radiance was a friend to him or an enemy. It didn't take him long to come to the conclusion that it indeed was an ally, because in total absence of light he would be devoured by utter darkness. That didn't sound pleasant at all. He would probably even go insane much faster if there wasn't light; the inner demons love darkness. All Rowan could do was stare at the ceiling and think. He wondered where he was, but maybe he was in a basement of some sort; the air felt a little cold and damp. But where exactly this room was, that was the question. His memory gap didn't really help him at all, it just made it more difficult to figure out what the hell had happened and what kind of situation he was in now. Obviously this wasn't anything good, but he was afraid to let his mind wander together with his inner demons to delve into the worst-case scenarios. It was hard to not do that and Rowan tried his best to think something else, something nicer. Though that was also hard for him since his brain was rotten with disease and thinking about good things wasn't easy. But maybe it was essential now, so the fear wouldn't completely take over his mind. Though, the dread multiplied instantly as he suddenly heard something. So far he had been enclosed in silence, which Rowan had found a little comforting in a strange way, but now his ears were pierced by a sound of a metal door screeching horribly as it was forced to move and grant access to somebody. Then it was closed again. Rowan listened as someone was walking down the stairs and his heart was beating in terror in the rhythm of the descending person's steps. Whoever was coming down didn't sound like a large person, but that was rather meager solace; Rowan was still tied up and utterly vulnerable. He had never been more afraid in his entire life and he dreaded the second when the one descending would come to him – he had a hunch that they would bring nothing but unspeakable nightmares. The steps were getting closer until finally, Rowan could sense that the person had come rather close to the table where he was lying. How such light steps were able to deliver so much fright, Rowan couldn't understand. And then, suddenly a person popped into his limited view. It was a woman; that explained how light her steps had seemed. She had a very young face; in Rowan's eyes she probably wasn't even thirty years old. He noted that she was also very beautiful, but that beauty was ruined by the wickedness that stained her face. It could be seen especially in her eyes; they were abnormally light blue and gleamed with madness. Her long hair, tied to a ponytail, had such a pale hue of blonde that it looked almost white. She was wearing a doctor's white coat and this detail just made her much more terrifying; Rowan's mind was getting flooded with the horrific scenarios that he was being used in some cruel experiments. “Oh, good, you're awake”, the woman said and there was a terrifyingly deranged expression on her face. “Or maybe, not so good for you. We'll see.” Then she moved away from the table, Rowan couldn't see where she had gone or what she was doing. Of course he had to vocalize the mandatory questions one would utter in this kind of situation: “Who are you? And where am I?” “Ah, obviously you're confused by all this, that's normal”, the woman replied and she came back to the table and to Rowan's view. She had an unnerving smile on her face. “You can call me Amelia. And right now you are in my own little clinic of sorts. How did you end up here, hmm? I bet that was the next question in your head. You're not my first patient. Let's just say, there are so many broken people that other doctors can't deal with them all. We live in a defective world. That's where I come into picture; I snatch patients from others, taking a little bit of their burden away.” Rowan wasn't sure what Amelia meant by her last bit of information, but it gave him horrific visuals of corrupted doctors that would just pass their patients to lunatics like Amelia. And who knows what she was planning to do since Rowan's situation definitely didn't look good. Once more he opened his mouth: “What's going to happen to me?” “Oh, don't you worry”, Amelia responded, her smile growing even wider and she tenderly caressed Rowan's cheek, obviously in a mocking way. “I'm not going to torture you. I'm just doing a little operation. It's a swift one, I promise.” Rowan didn't like the sound of this and he started to feel even more terrified, if that was even possible. “But I don't need any operations! I'm okay!” “We both know that's not true”, Amelia almost whispered and she grinned in a way that expressed she knew more than seemed. “Your brain is a nest of disease. But I'll be honest: I haven't performed this procedure to anyone before. You're my first one. Be proud of that little fact.” Then she walked away again and Rowan had this horrifying awareness that second by second he was getting closer to something horrible. “What are you doing to me?” Rowan asked, his voice almost trembling from fear. “Ever heard of lobotomy?” Amelia turned the question. Rowan's blood ran cold and it almost felt like his spirit had just left his body. He knew nothing but horrible stories revolving around this surgery. “No, no, no, no, you can't!” “Of course I can. I've been curious about it for some time, but like I said, I haven't done this before. I'm doing this for science”, Amelia explained. “I need to see the effect myself.” Out of utter desperation, Rowan began to struggle against his bindings again. Panic had taken over his mind, demanding him to fight against the forthcoming horror. He squirmed, trying to bring forth strength fueled by terror. But no matter how much he writhed, the straps kept him in his place. All his attempts to get free were futile. “Have a little patience, please”, Amelia said. “You will get out of here. Eventually.” The doctor appeared on Rowan's view once again, and she was ready for surgery. She had put disposable gloves on her hands and she had a surgical mask covering part of her face; at least Rowan wouldn't see her horrifying smile. In one of her hands she was holding a single tool that resembled an ice pick; it was an orbitoclast. The worst part was that she probably wasn't going to use anesthesia of any kind. “Please don't do this”, Rowan whimpered pathetically, still kept his useless fight going against the straps. But Amelia didn't care about his pleas. All this was because of her morbid curiosity, Rowan was just a subject. “Now, hold still so this will be easier for both of us.” Rowan didn't follow her dark advice. He was in a state of utter panic and fear, primordial instincts had kicked in demanding him to fight and escape. He didn't stop struggling, not even when the doctor's sharp tool infiltrated the insides of his head through his eye socket. The orbitoclast went deeper and deeper and into Rowan's frontal lobe. As Amelia surmised that her tool had gone far enough, she started to wiggle it around Rowan's brain. She was humming to herself while performing the illegal surgery, clearly getting some twisted and sick satisfaction with what she was doing. And just like that, she was done. She pulled the orbitoclast out of Rowan's head and left him on the table. He wasn't moving anymore. Amelia decided to give him a couple of hours before studying the effects of the surgery. Still humming, she left the room and Rowan was all alone again. Rowan simply wasn't the same after this cruel experience. He was an empty shell of a person he used to be, almost seeming like nobody was home. When Amelia returned to him a while later, he didn't really react when the woman had freed him from the straps. The man didn't acknowledge her presence, like he was somewhere else entirely. But Amelia examined him with great curiosity, fascinated by the change. She helped Rowan to shift into a sitting position, but from there, he had no desire to move. This was a man who had desperately tried to fight for their freedom just a while ago, but now, he was quiet and didn't mind being in the room. He wasn't Rowan anymore. But now the delusions and anxieties are gone. Or at least, they didn't bother him anymore. In a sense, Amelia had just cured him. She gently stroked Rowan's cheek. “Can you feel it? The mental anguish?” “No.” His voice was monotonous; there was no will behind the single word he had just uttered. “Interesting.” This gave Amelia the crave to learn more. Human brain, what a mysterious thing it was, it would never stop being fascinating to her. And now, after she had done the little experiment with Rowan using the method of the past, she wanted to do it again, to study and observe how different people would respond to it. Rowan was merely the first subject. There were many things Amelia was interested in doing to people – and had actually done already – in the name of science, but she had just got a new fixation. And out there, the world was filled with wretches no one cared about.