Prologue
Memories raced through his mind. Fighting alongside thousands of other figures clad in gleaming marble-white armour. Leading a charge against green-skinned monstrosities. Defending a world from a race of never-ending hunger. Shouting his pride at his commander's ascension. Screaming his desperation at his commander's betrayal.
The figure shifted in his sleep. A frown creasing his face as his memories continued.
Slowly plotting his escape. Hectic wars fought for his lost commander. Gathering support from those few left untainted. Watching his fellow soldiers deploy to yet another world only to be massacred by their own brothers.
Flight. Stealing a ship and running from he madness. Barely escaping a death so many others had achieved. Crash landing on a desolate asteroid. Climbing into a stasis pod, all hope drained away.
Sleep. The longest sleep known to man. No dreams had fluttered through his mind. No thoughts of glory, no fears of death. Simply blackness, a dark that stretched for ten thousand years.
A presence intruded on the soldier's memories, imposing its own questions on his mind.
Where are you from?
Towering buildings filled his mind. Volcanic ash hung in the air. Millions of people filled the city. Roads and walkways spanned the skies, stretching from building to building. Geysers of flame shot up from the ground. The planet's entire population worked to slowly strip everything of value from the world.
The memory changed. The fires shooting into the sky began to spread. They engulfed the planet, smothering all life. Cracks appeared in the world's surface. Molten rock spewed from the planet's wounds. The stresses increased. The world shattered.
Who is your master?
A face filled his thoughts. Perfection surrounded by a golden aura. Wise and caring. Benevolent and all-knowing. Young, yet ancient. So very ancient…
What is your desire?
An image came into being. Slowly a silver wolf's head formed out of the blackness. A golden light surrounded the symbol. The light took on a more definite shape, becoming wings. The wings stretched out from the wolf's head, embracing the darkness.
What is your name?
The soldier's mind struggled. His subconsciousness slowly dredged up a word from deep within himself. It seemed to fit and he claimed it as his own. Yaroslav.
And what is your title?
Without knowing why, the soldier immediately responded. It was not what he had been before, but even in sleep his mind knew that nothing was what it once was.
Archangel.