《BattleField - A Never-Ending Nightmare》Prologue | When the Gate of Heaven are Shut Tight.

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A murder of crows circled far above in the sky. Black streaks swiftly revolving around in large groups. Their dark feathers gleamed and beaks shook with anticipation. They cawed in victory, in utter dominance. They were supreme and the dead nights--dark as midnight black--only made them more arrogant.

They were the victors, those who lasted amongst them all. The only survivors in leagues upon leagues of lands and stretches of lakes and flowing waters. Divine in make they were, in mind, body, and spirit.

Caw!

With that single booming sound, they dove towards the grounds below their majestic wings, as a single body. They screeched and cried in joy and ecstasy. The battlefield in its entirety was theirs to indulge in, to feed upon and grow apart from whence they languished for centuries.

And as a mass of locusts, they feasted upon the strewn bodies of man and Aemoh. The hundreds of thousands upon thousands of more laid dry of lifeblood, soulless, and dead. They were all dead. Not a single one stood in its conclusion.

But the ground had soaked to its fill. The air painted until its wide canvas could take no more red. Though the deathly dismal nights were filled with the cries of ravens, even they felt the earth below them shudder and shake. Groaning and screaming, as the souls of an endless number were rising from their resting place.

Lightning, silent and bright, bloomed in the horizon, it's unnatural scarlet color an omen to those far off, kingdoms away. What followed it was even more frightening. It was quiet. No thunder pealed, no roaring from the heavens, banishing the demons from their posts before its golden gates.

Even then, there were none present to chase away. They hid in every crack and cover they could find, as far from the battlefield as possible. They cried and shrieked in pain as a silent sound, beyond the capabilities of mere mortals to hear, shook the world in its entirety. Originating from the epicenter of death and destruction.

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And with their escape, the skies opened up to the Eternal Dark. It sent down, grasping pale hands, innumerable, to hold at the souls floating aimlessly in a constant state of suffering. Their claws dug deep and clutch impossible to escape. For twelve days and twelve nights, they scoured the plains of battle. Searching for every wayward soul, then pulling them deep into the endless abyss they called home.

Plentiful the souls were millions upon millions, all sent to their demise. Not a single one could escape this dark destiny.

It was only when there were no more did the tear in reality finally close with a satisfied hum. Their task had been completed and with its end came their time of feasting. And fill that void of hunger they did with the souls that were not needed, as few as they were.

But as they disappeared, another had opened for but a moment. A flash of light washed the lands in pulses as it let out its convoy. The single soul it had kept within its confines for eons untold. A blank slate, well almost as it were. Even they were not capable of touching the domain of the One, creator of it all.

His was the domain of the strongest memories.

But, nevertheless, did they clean and swipe as much as they could within their realm and under His jurisdiction.

The solitary soul was brought down in a shower of emerald energy. Cascading upon the field in its entirety, leaving not even a single body untouched by it. And worst among it all, the soul landed upon a random body, melding them together to become one inseparable, indistinguishable.

With a clap of power, their task was done. The pulsing light flickered in jubilation. The emerald motes of energy danced in the winds as they gathered slowly to the single point they had landed around. Orbiting it with other colors forcefully taken from the death and blood around them. A yellowish-green for humanity, and a purplish-blue for the Aemoh.

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Together they circled closer and closer until the last of their numbers had joined its brethren within the vessel before them. With the same entrance it had come, the second tear, in reality, had vanished without a trace to its existence. Only the swirling clouds and small twisters at the edges of the battlefield were its only indication of ever opening to the mortal realm.

They had dropped their load upon the world, and it was up to the single soul to decide its fate from now on. Old debts have been paid, and ageless grudges completely turned into dust as the identity of the previous soul had changed to become part of this world it was on now.

The world of short-lived creatures may not understand the consequences of this event, but those of aged wisdom knew to shiver in fear and hide lest they be seen and deemed a nuisance to whatever could orchestrate this. The dragons were not arrogant anymore, nor were the demons peeping into the lands of angels with envy today.

They would have to act so on another night.

It was to be noted that the ravens cawed no more, their wings fluttered no more. Their beaks tore into flesh no more. There was no majestic countenance to fill the void. Just scattered feathers floating in the air, reminiscing the once cries of victory they had claimed.

Today was a dark day, and there would be no victors.

Just the single soul brought down to pay a debt.

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