Post by Trace on Jun 19, 2009 15:50:32 GMT -5
“In order to return everybody to the present, I had to sacrifice the only thing I had left in the world. I didn’t want my memories. The pain, the suffering, every soul that I have slain in my eternity on earth. It’s all back in my head.”
“And why did you do this Trace? Why did you help them when the majority of them will be killed in the upcoming purge?”
Trace turned his attention to the figure. The Black Goat. The two of them were standing in the ruins of the Church. A cold wind permeated the night air, a wind that felt bizarrely similar to Trace. As if some disaster was just over the horizon.
“My reasons for helping them don’t matter anymore. I’m not that person anymore, not now that I remember who I truly am.”
“And who are you Trace, truly?”
Decades earlier
They stood in an abyss of white, surrounding their entire existence. There was just two of them in this solitary room, cutting glorious divine figures. But of course, that’s what Angels do.
The first is a familiar sight. An angel who has not yet fallen, currently at the top of the Angelic Hierarchy. Six wings adjourn his back, two crimson swords at his side. He is an Angel who has seen far too much in his time, and whose beliefs have been shattered long before this moment.
The other is different to your usual angel. Long strands of red hair hang too his shoulders. A chiselled face that could make a woman’s knees go weak. His figure is covered in divine armour stronger than anything that will ever be forged on earth. A single long sword hands from his waist. An angelic warrior who wages a secret war against his brothers. This Angel is named Abriel, and when he speaks he speaks with great urgency.
“I cannot stay long, before long they will discover my treachery and the window will be closed. There is not a lot of time left for you either, either you flee now or you face excommunication.”
“I am aware Abriel, a war wages above us between the Angels and Demons, a war that the Demons will inevitably lose.”
“Well of course the Demons will fail. We couldn’t open a window between Heaven and Hell strong enough to allow the greater Demons through.”
“Well that is what happens when the mage opening the window is an incompetent Virtue.”
The red headed figure walked away from the Seraphim standing in front of him. With a hand placed on the wall of the white room a dark portal opened, a window between Heaven and Hell. He turned back to the other Angel.
“Are you coming with me or not Traciel?”
The Seraphim took a stride forward, and with crimson eyes spoke with authority.
“I will not run to the realm of Demons Abriel. You were foolish enough to ally yourself with him, but I will not. I agreed to assist you with opening the window, but that is as far as I will go. I have my own intentions.”
“And where do you intend to run to Traciel?”
“I never run Abriel. I will take time to plan, and then I will do what I set out to.”
“And where will you do this planning Traciel?”
And with a grin Traciel answered him.
“I know of this nice little city. Animus.”
The present
“And who are you Trace, truly?”
“Something different Goat. I’m something new entirely.”
“And you remember everything do you?” The Goat spoke with trepidation, an emotion that Trace did not miss in his voice.
Turning back to the Goat, Trace grinned.
“Everything Goat. I know exactly what you did.”
“And what was that?” The Goat said, attempting to sound powerful once again.
“You made a deal with that Devine bastard. You obtained the assistance of an army of Angels to help you take back you city, then you wiped my memories of the final battle. It is because of you that I was banished to hell, that I lost my wings. But I don’t blame you Goat, for I have come back stronger, and I have never been more intent in my resolve.”
“And what would that resolve be?”
Trace moved quickly, and within milliseconds with inches away from the Black Goat, a blade held to his throat.
“First I’ll kill you. Then I’ll do the one thing that I know will destroy this creator of yours.”
Trace took a step away, lowering the blade. This wasn’t the time to kill the Goat. He wouldn’t make it quick, he wanted it to hurt. The Goat brushed himself off, and returned to his nonchalant state.
“And what is that?”
Trace turned to the Goat, and with a grin spoke.
“I’m going to kill the entire human race.”
Then the Goat was gone, and Trace was left with nothing but his memories. And his intentions.
“And I’m going to do it in style.”
“And why did you do this Trace? Why did you help them when the majority of them will be killed in the upcoming purge?”
Trace turned his attention to the figure. The Black Goat. The two of them were standing in the ruins of the Church. A cold wind permeated the night air, a wind that felt bizarrely similar to Trace. As if some disaster was just over the horizon.
“My reasons for helping them don’t matter anymore. I’m not that person anymore, not now that I remember who I truly am.”
“And who are you Trace, truly?”
Decades earlier
They stood in an abyss of white, surrounding their entire existence. There was just two of them in this solitary room, cutting glorious divine figures. But of course, that’s what Angels do.
The first is a familiar sight. An angel who has not yet fallen, currently at the top of the Angelic Hierarchy. Six wings adjourn his back, two crimson swords at his side. He is an Angel who has seen far too much in his time, and whose beliefs have been shattered long before this moment.
The other is different to your usual angel. Long strands of red hair hang too his shoulders. A chiselled face that could make a woman’s knees go weak. His figure is covered in divine armour stronger than anything that will ever be forged on earth. A single long sword hands from his waist. An angelic warrior who wages a secret war against his brothers. This Angel is named Abriel, and when he speaks he speaks with great urgency.
“I cannot stay long, before long they will discover my treachery and the window will be closed. There is not a lot of time left for you either, either you flee now or you face excommunication.”
“I am aware Abriel, a war wages above us between the Angels and Demons, a war that the Demons will inevitably lose.”
“Well of course the Demons will fail. We couldn’t open a window between Heaven and Hell strong enough to allow the greater Demons through.”
“Well that is what happens when the mage opening the window is an incompetent Virtue.”
The red headed figure walked away from the Seraphim standing in front of him. With a hand placed on the wall of the white room a dark portal opened, a window between Heaven and Hell. He turned back to the other Angel.
“Are you coming with me or not Traciel?”
The Seraphim took a stride forward, and with crimson eyes spoke with authority.
“I will not run to the realm of Demons Abriel. You were foolish enough to ally yourself with him, but I will not. I agreed to assist you with opening the window, but that is as far as I will go. I have my own intentions.”
“And where do you intend to run to Traciel?”
“I never run Abriel. I will take time to plan, and then I will do what I set out to.”
“And where will you do this planning Traciel?”
And with a grin Traciel answered him.
“I know of this nice little city. Animus.”
The present
“And who are you Trace, truly?”
“Something different Goat. I’m something new entirely.”
“And you remember everything do you?” The Goat spoke with trepidation, an emotion that Trace did not miss in his voice.
Turning back to the Goat, Trace grinned.
“Everything Goat. I know exactly what you did.”
“And what was that?” The Goat said, attempting to sound powerful once again.
“You made a deal with that Devine bastard. You obtained the assistance of an army of Angels to help you take back you city, then you wiped my memories of the final battle. It is because of you that I was banished to hell, that I lost my wings. But I don’t blame you Goat, for I have come back stronger, and I have never been more intent in my resolve.”
“And what would that resolve be?”
Trace moved quickly, and within milliseconds with inches away from the Black Goat, a blade held to his throat.
“First I’ll kill you. Then I’ll do the one thing that I know will destroy this creator of yours.”
Trace took a step away, lowering the blade. This wasn’t the time to kill the Goat. He wouldn’t make it quick, he wanted it to hurt. The Goat brushed himself off, and returned to his nonchalant state.
“And what is that?”
Trace turned to the Goat, and with a grin spoke.
“I’m going to kill the entire human race.”
Then the Goat was gone, and Trace was left with nothing but his memories. And his intentions.
“And I’m going to do it in style.”