AN: Greetings, whichever mortal has deemed my humble story to be worthy of their gaze. I must request that you do not get angered because of my foolish rambling that I would wish to one day be a miraculous piece of literature that would entertain someone, no matter for how long a time. This will hopefully be my first story to stay for more than a day.
Prologue: Storm or Fire
"I was once told, by someone far wiser and older than time, that if you stood still, a current would sweep you off your feet. If you moved with the stream, you would be swept powerless down a waterfall. And if you moved against the flow, you fight a losing battle, only to be defeated in the end. So, what is the right choice?"
───ＯPrologueＯ────
This world, by now, should know what insanity brings. It brings out the darkest within us. All rational thought is forgotten, along with whatever kindness or any emotion at all that previously existed. And if one were to stare into the demons' eyes, they could be perfectly described as utterly insane. For if one speaks of the devil, the devil will come.
Everything began, as it always should, on a normal day, that was just part of the monotonous routine in the life of any human. Throw out a 'good morning' or a 'how are the kids?' every so often, sit yourself down on a cushioned chair, and let another day full of absolutely nothing roll by. Time, as the ever-dull man-made concept it was, would simply pass you by, watching you be introduced into the world, forgotten, and then make your exit. Nothing changed. None of them were special in any way. Sure, every so often some mortal could make slightly larger of an impact on the minuscule race of humanity, but in the end they always faded away and were lost in the never ending cycle. Days, months, centuries passed by as if nothing were there to stop it, and uncountable deaths have happened, lives that lost their luster becoming part of the flow of time and being ended adrubtly by the unforgivingly cold jaws of the beast preying upon the innocent. Some could try to imitate the hands of death, and stain their own spirit with the blood and lives of others. They never truly succeded, and died along with the rest.
As long as it was human nature to act so, the world they lived in would never change. Never.
However, if one would take into account that humans were not the only dominant life forms, the possibilities, the speculation that would come would be far different. Just as humans yearned to seek beyond that which they knew of, other species also wished to do so. And what better than for a few demons from the dark, fiery pits of the Underworld to disguise themselves as mortals and walk the land of humans?
Swirling flames danced across the barren plains, hungrily stretching upwards towards the vast emptiness. Every so often, a blurry shape wreathed in shadows would appear, then dissolve into the darkness, leaving no trace of its existence. Echoing cries pierced through the haze, before being swallowed by the flames. No life existed here, no human dared walk these grounds, no soul was brave enough to venture this far down in the already deep pits of Hell. All negativity, the hatred, the darkness, would eventually find its way down into these plains of existence. And that was how everything should be.
If everything was proceeding according to the natural order of the universe, and there was nothing that could prove worrisome, then why was a figure perched upon a large outcropping, staring out at the drab landscape around itself? The reason was a problem many had grown accustomed to: mere boredom. Above, the earth was teeming with life, albeit some were far shorter than others. A light growl escaped through the being's crimson, blood-colored lips, drawn back to reveal shining, deadly sharp teeth, stark white against the red of her lips. Why bother herself with the matters of the overworld? There was nothing of significance, nothing major that could ever possibly attract her enough for her to stay, or even visit. Or perhaps there was...
The puny mortals, with their finite lifespans. Yes, they did impact their world, but it was hardly anything. However, humanity as a race... That was something just a bit less dull than existence down here. Black wings slowly unfurled from their place on the figure's back, the shadows seemed to rise up and twist themselves around her body, and she let out a last, screeching laugh. The laugh echoed a few times in the barren landscape, and then it was gone.
And in the mortal world, a new life sprouted from after a downpour, the relieved parents naming their newly-born daughter Kyouki- hoping that their daughter would take the darkness away from others, and act as a blessing, a protection from the storms to come. How wrong they were.