Chapter 1: 0. Prologue

High above in a blood red sky with not a cloud to be seen for miles, the sun shined. Its light fell upon a procession of soldiers standing in two separate lines with a 10 meter gap between them. All the while, the ruins of a small town lie all around them. What once stood as homes, businesses, and a great chapel dedicated to a now-forgotten god now lie as dried wood and crumbling stone. No tree, flower, or weed could be found anywhere as the land was as desolate as a desert. A dry wind blew carrying sand, dust and tiny fragments of sun bleached bone. And on the horizon came a man in red robes and a crimson hood cover his head. Heavy iron shackles bound his hands, legs, and neck as the chains keeping him imprisoned were dragged through the ashy and cracked dirt.

Two men rode on horseback beside him, both wearing armor that had long since lost its luster and badly in need of repairs. All the while the robed man was forced to walk forward. His feet left bloody footprints as they marched forward, and yet the prisoner smiled under his hood. Minutes passed as all that kept the soldiers company was the occasional breeze reeking of dried blood and rust. For them, it had been two-hundred years. Two hundred years of pain and suffering. Two hundred years that a ruby red plague corrupted the hearts, minds, and flesh of their fellow man. Two hundred years of men in red preaching a philosophy of freedom through blood while the innocent were slaughtered without hesitation. And now, all of if was finally coming to an end.

Once the three men came to the lines of soldiers, the two on horseback dismounted and continued on foot. Not a word was said as they took a position in front and behind their prisoner. Thus began the long walk to a stage where a guillotine stood. Its blade still as sharp as the day it was first made. Moving past the men, many of them wanted to kill the prisoner there and then. Put an end to their nightmare, but then only one man would feel satisfied. White-knuckling their spears as they stood at attention, they watched as the smile under the hood only grew wider. And with every step, every jingling of the chains, it felt like seconds turned to hours.

And as the sun slowly lowered itself to rest upon the collapsed steeple of the church just behind the stage, the red robed man took his place. One of his escorts took out a sheet of paper and began to read him his sentencing.

“For the slaughtering of millions, the practice of dark magic, and fall of kingdoms, you, Halak Zuhl, are sentenced to death by beheading. How do you plead?”

The man in red said nothing.

Biting back his hatred for the to-be-executed, the soldier crumpled the paper in his hand and let it fall to the ground.

“Your allies are dead! Your demons vanquished! Nothing remains of your rebellion against humanity, and yet you smile?! Have you any final words you demon, devil, spawn of hell?! Have you nothing to say at the end of your plague of blood and flesh?!”

The commanding officer stomped his foot in protest to Zuhl’s silence. And then there was a moment of silence. In a haunting and dry voice, Zuhl spoke.

“After You have begun to grow again, He shall be watching and waiting in anticipation of your next blooming. And for a time, He shall smile and treasure the beauty of Your progress. But once Your petals begin to wilt from apathy, and Your leaves shrivel from stagnancy, He shall begin the pruning once again. And the cycle shall begin anew. Today I die, but He shall bring me back. We will return to end the world again in a wake of blood and darkness. All so that He may smile again.”

With that, the man in red willingly walked to the guillotine and placed his head in the rest. Fed up with everything, the sentencer gave the signal to let it happen. And thus, the other soldier locked the red man’s head in place with the wooden restraints before stepping back and drawing his sword. All at once, the soldiers turned to face the stage and watch the execution. All of their faces had become sullen, exhausted, and pained. And for the first time in decades, they all eagerly watched the execution with a burning hatred for the red robed man.

And yet. As the blade fell and cut cleanly through Zuhl’s body, his smile never left. Rather, as it fell to the ground, everyone watched as Zuhl stared at everyone in the crowd at the same time. Five separate eyes, all of different colors and pupils, stared back in anticipation of what would come next.

But at least, for now, humanity’s nightmare was over.