Prelude

-Avarice system, --- Solar Rotation-

 

A ship once proud and noble now drifts; ripped and torn, burnt and broken. Disemboweled from the inside, all that remains is a lifeless shell.

It is a gleaming gray voyager of space, drifting soundlessly through the infinite expanses of the void, a dull thrum resonating throughout the hull as a invisible force pushes it along on its tireless journey.

It’s angled wings and tapered nose are marred with dents, barley visible on it’s wing it’s title is displayed ‘Gray Lark’ the once refined vessel, the bird, the catalyst, it only knew itself as a fragment of times gone by.

Its cargo has become its captain, while its captain has become even less then what it once was, now only a slave to her intentions, a soulless husk of a faded name.

At the helm of the craft, a queen sleeps on her throne, cocooned in resin like swaths of an unknown origin, encapsulated within, royalty slept undisturbed.

Within the void, sound did resonate as unknown hands gripped the metal bird and pulled it closer, a craggy surface dotted with hubs of human life; the parasites of worlds.

It was if this planet had called out to the dying ship, in need of its vital substance, the cure for its diseased surface, an antidote for the humanoid poisons it played host to.

Silently, but with renewed purpose the unknown ship drifted closer to the ravished world. It fell out of the void, fire licking at its sides, systems long since decayed flickered back to life- the shuttle spread its great gray wings once more, and took flight across a black-night sky, the starless night its only companion.

Lower, and lower it drifted, gliding down through clouds of soot, ash, and smog, poisoned rain beat down onto its back, and pounded against its shell.

Silence still ruled within the great ships’ confines, an egg like casing gently pulsed within. But a formless intruder interlude upon its ageless rest, voice took place of its form, brash, and loud, it forced itself on sleeping ears.

Demands went unmet, and outside the gray lark, fire erupted, the once great bird now fell prey to the will of others once more, its wings clipped, its soul crippled, its last flight ended in despair.

Two greater birds of prey swooped down upon it, fire erupting forth from great beaks they sunder its flight only stopping when is nothing more then formless metal hurtling towards the ground.

It spiraled downwards, lower, and lower it tumbled, bits and pieces breaking off as the body fell apart.

But the gray lark had served its purpose for the Will of the World. It no longer was needed, having played its small, yet important part in the vast cosmic play.

Now it was time for a new actor to emerge as the burning wreckage crashed down into sickly swamps neighboring a vast sprawling city littered with factories.

The muddy earth erupted in a shower of gunk, smoke, and derbies as the sundered vessel slammed home. The crippled hull slid forward, burrowing a trench for a yard or two before coming to a full halt. The silt-laden water washed over its hull.

The two fighters responsible for clipping this birds great wings flew past silently overhead, circling twice before breaking off and returning to home

From the ashes arose a phoenix; but this was no majestic bird of fire -no myth of the old world- this was a carrion crow of hell, and this wretch was far too terrifyingly real.

It emerged- like that of a stillborn child from the womb of it’s mother, silent, cold, and airless.

It was not human.

It was something else entirely.

Two terrible eyes caught the light of the fire, but even its heat could not warm them.