prologue

Silvery and liquid, beautiful as the slow lapse of a human in their prime. The land was flat and almost molten to the touch, shifting ever so slightly, just out of range of sight, to the corner of the eye, yet stable. The trees moved between the greys of night and the greens of day and the concrete and buildings would illuminate and fall dark within moments, like a car had passed revealing their secret places in its blaring, rude headlights. Trash would adhere to the wind, move, then realise there wasn't any and stay stuck in space. No air, no time, no space; but then thus is the way of dreams.

You walked down the road, your high heels clipping on the pavement, shifting between red and blue and green, your three favourite. To the left of you, two shambling figures seemed to slowly tear at another, less mobile form sprawled over a bush in a park. A large hulking form lumbered past you in the middle of the road, its drooling jaws splashing acid that ate into the tar, and paid you no attention whatsoever. Screams came from an alleyway behind you, but they and the red splashes on the road didn't disturb you any more, they were everywhere. And just like them, you in your stately suit, briefcase and high heels, were all part of the way things went around here.

You walked on, and as the dreams always are, you were at your destination when you wanted to be, no need for ambling for you. The foyer, once pristine and elegant, now bloodspattered and decorated with crucified forms, led to the elevators, surprisingly still in working order. But then, He would never let things come to that much of a ruin.

The lift moves slowly up, without the standard grind and clunk of machinery; no, He preffered it if the essentials weren't run by electricity, rather letting more arcane forces keep the industry running. The standard ping as the doors slides open on your floor is the same, but with a more eerie, murdering edge to it. Beyond the portal stands two of His guardians, and further into the room are four taller figures, undoubtedly the others who stand as his command. The two large armoured figures slowly lay their eyes to rest on you, the black holes sunken into pale, peeling flesh regarding you with disdain. You always stop to wonder why He would need them; He had more than enough power to protect Himself, and you doubt He could be harmed by conventional means.

The other four turn in greeting and their horrible visages tug at your sanity, screaming that beings such as these should not be, they should not exist, you should not have to be in their presence. But then again, sanity was not something that appeared often in these times; the black stain that crawled up your neck onto your face being proof of this. You can feel the mind of the one with to the far right probing into your own, but you rebuff it, ignoring the malice that comes from it and smile inwardly when you see the tentacles that sprout from his mouth twitch in anger. There is a confirming chuckle coming from one of the other forms, one in a large trench coat, barely able to conceal the slow flickering blue flames that lap at the edges of the suede. The other two remain silent as always, only making acknowledgments when spoken to. Their elegant faces had once been beautiful, but now all the mirth had been sapped from their minds, and the darkness that they had joined had taken them over.

You feel a small sadness inside, remembering how they had been before and all the experiences you had shared with these two brothers. Now all that matters is His will and you can feel it slowly take you over as the master enters the room.

You turn to face Him, forcing your eyes to rest upon his form. And as all the dreams before you feel His presence overwhelm you and you fall away from this dream, knowing only His commands, His will, and His beautiful, agless and dead face...