Prelude

The figure hung motionless, watching the blue globe rotate slowly below.  Wings stretched out behind him, feathers silent and still without the atmosphere of the world below to move them, as he shifted in his vigil. Thoughts of the billions below flowed through him, each filtered and discarded while he search for what he needed.

The creation of life was easy, but even for him, it was impossible to know if his creation would grow into the kind of person he needed for his plans. He could try a billion times and still fail to create what he needed. The smart thing to do was to search for the right raw materials and mold them to suit his needs. So he waited and watched. Years sometimes past before he felt the right kind of mind; the diamond shining through the mud below. 

Even after millennia, he only had a precious few specimens to start from. None of which, after their conversion, had reached the level of development he needed. So he watched and waited as the world turned below.

"I'm going to die." The thought caught his attention.  It had the right level of determination, tinged with the concern for another, but devoid of fear. An willingness to accept the consequences in order to save another.

Curiosity aroused, the being plummeted towards the source of those thoughts. The crust of ice vaporizing as he entered the atmosphere, a falling star blazing across the sky, his form may be invisible to the mortals below but the flames of his passage were all to visible. Slowing until the harmless flames extinguished, he came low over the ocean to approach a rugged coastline with a large metropolis ahead. Skyscrapers blurred by until he hovered above an empty street, darkened and silent with broken street lamps testament to it's blight. Below, three mortals were doing a dance of death.  A man and woman were being held at gun point by another man.  The gunman's mind was overflowing with the filth he meant to do to the woman while he made the man, her husband, watch.

"Run, Sam! Go get help." The husband said, stepping in front of her, blocking the shot of the gunman.

The winged being, invisible, floated down to watch the outcome of this little drama. At the sound of her husband's voice, he felt the woman's paralyzing fear turn into a blinding need to escape. Turning, she fled into the night.

The winged being alighted beside the two men, the gunman raised his weapon and shifted to target the fleeing woman.

The husband leaped at the gunman, hands stretched out like claws aimed for the gunman's face and throat. The gunman shifted his aim back to the husband, the gun pressing into the husband's chest as they both tumbled over.  The gunman screamed and pulled the trigger over and over until the gun made an empty click.

"My eyes," the gunman moaned, blindly pushing off the husband's limp body, rolling onto his hands and knees, before rising to a kneeling position, reaching up to cup his bloody and rent face.  The result of the husband's last act, knowing that he couldn't save his wife before they both were killed, he chose to trade his life to gouge out the gunman's eyes.

"Perfect," the winged being thought, bending down and pulling the man's essence to him.  The husband's body gave a last sigh before going still. Standing back up, the winged being rose back into the night.