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Chapter One Oh Two (an opening)
7:26 p.m. 2005-08-11

A sleek rain of destruction covering muddied ground and above it all the sound of men dying. Severed flesh and the spilling of life in the gloom of twilight. THese are the battles fought, grand representations of the struggles in the heart of men. Explosives and hails of lead to dream by as the night falls and another day passes with no victory. This is nothing, this is a mere glimpse of a future drenched in blood. And yet men die for it, all the same, with no reason and only convictions, they fall one by one. This is unimportant and yet the mumbled prophecy spilt from the lips of the dying makes this war historic.
He was a killer, gun in hand. A mere seventeen years old the youth bled him dry and his eyes are no longer warm. Among the living he marches, hollowed out and cold. Look at him, seventeen, a boy nothing more, but the eternity of tomorrow resides nestled in his breast. Sitting amongst the bodies of fallen friends, his back to the wall and waiting for sleep. And lying beside him is the revenant, an old man staggering towards hell with nothing but the words to keep him breathing. and he whispered softly, every inflection a fleck of blood on the uniform of a young boy.
"They are coming and blue eyes will be the doom of this travesty of humanity. With death and steel he will purge the earth of flesh and blood. Born on the same night to differing fates your destiny is tangled in his and one will suffocate beneath the vanity and ambition of the other. This is your prophecy delivered by a blind man and yet you have nothing else to live for. I have seen the depths of your eyes extinguish the faintest hope for a future and I remain a moment to give you tomorrow and the day after. He will seek to take it from you and beyond these words the choices are all yours. March against this tide and become what you were meant to be and those amber eyes that lay dead inside of you will live once more. Without hope there is nothing but the existence that is the thousand knives wounding."
a shudder of breathing and there is nothing more. An old man dies to set the scene and its a progressive story of destruction.

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words @ jake, layout @ kelly