Prologue 0: Overture. The coming undone
The angel’s hand rested briefly on the massive body of the immaculate orchid tree. Its fingers seemed to crave for the very heart of the structure, Its fingernails continuously scratching the pure holiness of the surface. Its other hand was sunk deeply in Its white robe, in Its chest, just as willing to imprison the foe that taunted It from within. It could not exchange essence with the orchid. It did not want to either. Its breaths chased one another in endless marathon; Its mind was haunted by memories, by images, by words, all running backwards in a countdown of doom. Its hair glowed dark in the dreamy, white-shaded Garden of Eden, descending in throbbing curls over Its broad shoulders and muscular back, alive with the terror of their bearer, possessed by undying tremor.
Its lungs suddenly refused the nurturing air of the Kingdom. For a single moment in Its mind’s continuous chase, the angel transgressed the barrier of Its own existence. It witnessed the life of Itself, It witnessed the mistakes It had made, It witnessed the explosion that had birthed It, the involution of the celestial object that had been Its womb. It beheld holy hands joined in the agony of the ever-burning passion of the true Artist imprisoned by His own purpose, and eventually, through the eyes of Its Maker, It heard the vibration of the will, the latent craving for fulfillment, the horror of failing Its soul. Its lips were parted with a shiver, forced open by something greater than Itself:
“Fiat Lux!”
The angel gasped and opened Its sapphire-blue eyes, a darkness sharper than that of the cosmos seeming to pulse ceaselessly, having replaced the pupil of Its eye, dominating the angel’s very soul.
Violently throwing Its head backwards, the angel gazed upon the star studded sky of Its homeland, through the marvelously painted flowers. It heard the darkness calling and felt the attraction of the Void. Its hands mechanically pushed apart the heavy, thick hanging branches, every decided step taking It further from the Garden, closer to Its death, passing by every sleeping angel guard, Its paces soundless, Its heartbeats commanded by the unseen adversary, all land of the Lord gradually concealed by thick, heavy fog, drops of impending destruction washing down Its flawless face.
Finally having trespassed the limit of the marble gates, It stood on the other side of the immense doors and took a deep breath in. It looked around to only discover complete and utter blackness. A game of shadows surrounded It. They lingered in deafening silence and danced to the rhythm of the cosmos, they tumbled and crawled on the surface of the particles that the darkness concealed. The angel was not aware of their presence; It did not know how they watched It, how they playfully tried to touch Its feather-tips only to prove themselves worthy of being embodied.
It spread Its wings and felt the vibration of Its doing in the atmosphere, Its long, wavy hair flying sideways and backwards.
"He's coming to get you..." threatened the hidden whispers.
Its weary eyes caused It to lose sense of reality. It could see them through the curtain of shadows, the enemies, the whisperers of threats, disfigured soldiers, grossing, grotesque, heartless in respect to Its imminent doom. But there was no army. There was nobody else, for It had decided to leave in the still of the night, willing to avoid the painful parting with Its beloved.
"He's coming to get you..." the words played on the surface of Its freezing heart yet again.
They did somehow sound familiar to the angel, their echo preserving a touch of ghastly anxiety of a child’s pure heart.
"I am an angel of God's army. I fear nothing!" It reassured Itself.
"He's coming to get you..." the voices repeated, seemingly filling the darkness around the stairs the angel stood upon.
Feeling the vibration caused by the obvious contact with some kind of entity, tremendously afraid of imprisonment and torture, It flapped the white, perfect wings once more, hard, and plunged into the pitch black, right after looking back at the immense gates one last time.
Few memories of the past several earthly years dared show themselves to the mind that strove for oblivion.
It would wake up every heavenly morning with Its pair by Its side, then wander about the endless paths of the Kingdom. The tranquility of the heavenly nature was overwhelming. It had long before taken a break from Its angelic duties, and this renunciation had left It feeling somewhat hollow. Barren of feelings other than awe for Its pair, drunk on the stillness of heavenly life, the angel had struggled to abnegate all It had suffered. It could not feel the burden anymore.
However, a dark pool of feelings had been rotting Its mind for two thousand years, lurking in the depths of Its being. The angel had been feeling this force boiling within, completely depleted of any ideas concerning the latter’s ever-renewing source. The moment this taunting sensation had stopped was the pinnacle of Its silent torment, when the unforgiving voices started to haunt It.
Their whispers resounded hauntingly, most often leaving It in a cold sweat as It ceaselessly tried to fight them. They never came when It was asleep, for when It dreamed, the angel watched lovingly how part of Its soul mate lived a human life. She was so young, the angel thought, and fragile, and yet so brave to stand apart in such a cruel world. The rest of her soul was there, in the Kingdom, and the angel silently consented that, whatever happened, had the whole Heaven fallen, she would have been the most important treasure to rescue.
This particular morning, It had left her covered in sheets of silk just as white as her beautiful face, on a bench closest to the fountain in the Garden of Eden, among the roses glowing with red tints, just like her perfect cheeks when she cried kneeling at Heaven's gates.
"Please, please, don't go!"
"You know I must..."
"But I am afraid..." she had whispered in tears.
"Of what?"
"That you will never come back..."
"You know I would never leave you alone. Why would you doubt me?"
She had jumped in Its arms, like a child scared of losing her most precious dreams.
"I dreamed of..." she had sighed profoundly after choking on a sob."...You... Dead..."
"That is nonsense..." the angel had argued. But even as she had sobbed uncontrollably, betraying a most childly heart, she had - as always - glowed with the Divine touch. The angel had known It stood before a prophet among angels, therefore It had postponed Its departure, paradoxically giving enough time to the evil whispers to bring It closest to madness.
It could remember her tormented sleep through the haze of Its escape. Alone she lay on the bench It had carried her to, alone in desperate attempts at clinging at Its chest. The white covers It had left her wrapped in flowed over the edges of her secluded bed, resting on the dusty ground, trembling in the short breezes of silence and peace that swept the paths of the Kingdom. Her long, golden hair contrasted the purity of the land, and her long eyelashes trembled as if possessed by the hatred of a dreadful nightmare. Her rose-red lips whispered constantly, their words choked by haunting silence.
The angel closed Its eyes suddenly, squeezing Its eyelids together, hopeful that this image would thus be erased. It feared for her.
"She felt it too..." It finally thought as Its wings battered the nothingness. "Something is wrong. Something is happening to me. I cannot bring this curse upon her or anybody else!"
It allowed Itself to be propelled through the Black Gate by the force of the energy that the passage constantly compressed.
Stars shone bright in the distance of the cosmos. The throbs of their cores and motions, barely perceptible, made the angel want to scream out loud with despair.
What was this evil that smashed the angel's heart, trying to murder It from within, not even brave and respectful enough to manifest itself and engage in an honest fight?
The angel found Itself lost for words. It stopped.
Like a gigantic heart pumping blood in the endless body of the cosmos, the surroundings reverberated with the universe's song.
"Shut up!" It roared in the emptiness, covering Its ears. But how can someone so oblivious of himself dare try to command the womb of creation? "Shut up!" It screamed again, feeling Itself coming apart. As It floated aimlessly, the cold sweat took over again, in icy drops that traveled down Its cheeks and neck.
Then, for the length of a moment, It felt at peace with Itself. It smiled and thought nothing would happen, even though Its own thoughts echoed indecipherably for the infernal noise that the living cosmos produced. And when the beating heart of the universe finally aligned itself with the rhythm of the angel's aching heart, the winged white being felt a sudden urge to run.
"What is this?" It wondered with tears of fright flowing down Its face.
The voices were back, echoing like a choir in Its ears.
"Can you go any faster? Can you ? Can you?!"
"I can't!" the angel shouted desperately.
"No, no, you can't! But why?"
"I don't know!" the angel squealed, covering Its ears with Its hands, hoping thus to at least reduce the pain caused in Its eardrums by the whispers. "Leave me alone!"
The lack of self control made It turn and look behind, forgetful of Its trajectory. A small sized meteor threw It into a state of immobility for several seconds. The pain that the impact had produced refused to set Its limbs free. The angel forgot for a second that It was being chased by something - possibly an illusion.
It hadn't been out in the open space for years, and It had always feared the dark, for as long as It could remember.
"I'm okay... It's okay... It was just in my mind..." It proceeded to assure Itself silently while regaining Its breath, Its numb hand holding on tight to the white garment, fingers ready to stick in the flesh and choke Its hysterical heart to complete stillness and quietness.
In the blistering, apparent nothingness, a flicker of light awoke Its sleeping mind. Something was coming Its way, cutting through layers of blinding darkness. It couldn't see what it was, but Its instincts helped catch it a second earlier than Its own death. It was a weapon, seemingly thrown by a skillful opponent.
It analyzed the shiny, pointy end of the spear that had nearly murdered It, then touched it with a finger. Drops of blood came running down the polished metal.
"What is your name?" a hoarse voice asked, its words multiplying in echoing, hissing armies of hidden demons.
It squeezed the spear in Its hand. Its heart raced; Its mind had become silent.
Turning to fly away, the angel sought to leave this perpetual nightmare behind.
Then, Its white clothing started to come apart, claws of unseen monsters attempting to catch It and turn It into nothing. Its legs were gradually forced together, until Its ankles felt numb.
"Stop now or everything shall come apart!"commanded the voice of the unseen enemy.
Its spine stretched close to the point of breakage, as if something pulled It back by the tailbone. It felt entrapped. A burden was keeping It still. It could barely breathe, as Its hands struggled to swim through nothingness. There was nothing to grab on to; It couldn’t even scream. Its long feathers were blown sideways, uncovering the flesh of the wings they clothed. Its wings seemed willing to break, bent viciously by the outstanding pressure. It reached out for salvation, yet salvation had forsaken It. No hand came through to pull It away.
“Father!” It squealed breathlessly. “Holy Being!”
‘Light... Never ever fear the loss of things! I promise you...’
Cold shivers ran down Its spine in waves.
“God? Somebody? Help!”
The throbbing universe refused to allow Its words to travel throughout space.
It surrendered, unable to feel Its feet anymore. Nothing seemed to have strangled Its ankles, yet something was keeping It prisoner.
"What is your name?" asked the hissing choir.
The angel hesitated.
"I can't remember..." It finally spoke, taken over by a tumult of desperate questions regarding Itself.
"Struggling is pointless. As we speak, I am assembling an army to decimate all that is alive with spirit and flesh. You are my army! For... "
But the angel failed to further understand spoken words. Numbly watching Itself being turned upside down and hung by Its legs, It sensed a dark fog settling over Its thoughts, as Its entire body appeared to be freezing gradually.
"What is your name?" It asked Itself. "I can't remember... I don't know, " It answered. "Who am I?"
The chanting of distant spheres increased. A barely visible shadow trembled, standing above It. The angel felt nonexistent, when this mirrored entity beheld It as if It had become the shadow’s shadow.
"Were I you, I would not try to move. What you've been caught in, you can never get out of. Tell me... How much do you love people? Angels? Creation? ‘Cause if you do love them, your eternal pain will be a fair price for letting them live."
"Who are you?" the angel eventually managed to stutter fearfully.
“I am...
