A Prologue
"I don't want to die here.." He kept mumbling to himself, hugging his chest. The torrents battered him mercilessly as he trudged along in the knee deep slush. Never in his life had he wanted so badly to just.. leave, be absent.
The storm set alight and overwhelmed every sense of his. With each passing moment, he drifted closer to the brink of insanity. If death did not claim him first, the madness would.
But what else could he do? Stop? .
Stopping meant certain death and even as much as he desired it, human nature would force him to live on until the final moment. So he kept going, the memories of his home and his colleagues standing as the last bastion against the onslaught.
That was the excuse he used.
As if he had anything to go back to.
Finally, his legs gave out and he fell to the snow. He waited there on his hands and knees, head hanging low as the storm intensified. "I.. don't," he rasped out through a frost ravaged throat. "…don't.. want to.."
And then it stopped.
The winds settled and silence descended around him.
He didn't dare look up.
It was all a hallucination after all. He was still in the nightmare. To imagine a world other than it would break his mind, for too long had he grown accustomed to the roar of the storm.
He thought he heard someone exhale.
Just a trick.. it has to be.. he thought to himself.
Another breath.
It's a trick.. it's a trick..
A wheeze.
"Fine! I give in! I gi-" He came up in a scream only to realize that he stood above an endless field of whiteness, alone. The sounds had been his.
The storm? Gone without a trace.
He blinked once, and then twice.
Both of his arms hung loosely by his sides, touching the powdery snow that reached up to his waist.
He felt something warm run down his nose.
Gingerly reaching up, his fingers came away with blood.
A nosebleed? But.. that meant..
He was alive?
You are not alive, child. A voice whispered.
He turned around in shock. "Who's there?!" He shouted.
I am here.
"Show yourself, damn you!"
I have.. look around you.
He did.. and saw only a blinding expanse of white.
"Is.. is this supposed to be some kind of trick? Some dying dream I'm having w-while.." His words trailed off as his recollection ceased abruptly.
This is no trick, the being said. What you see around you.. held me for untold ages. That was until your machinations brought about a great and terrible catastrophe.
"..The ice caps.." He whispered in horror, remembering it all. The expedition. The experiment.. the disaster..
Ultimately, your kind did succeed in their mission to obtain my form. The being sounded.. saddened? Only at the cost of killing their own. Was it greed or simply hubris that caused them to do this? What do you concur? Child?
"..You.. call me child? Why..?"
He found it harder to breathe as a sudden wracking pain overtook his chest.
Because you are a child, are you not? A spawn of the Black Moon. The being was puzzled. What else would.. oh.. I see.. It.. makes sense now.
"..W-what does.."
So tired.. just.. want to rest..
A trembling hand weakly reached out, only to sink into the snow.
You may rest, if you wish. To drift away is of no consequence.
There is no plane of existence for your kind after this on.
Should you choose to pass on, you will likely cease to exist, the being warned.
I'm already.. dead.. he gasped out.
According to your kind's concept of death, you have been 'dead' for a long time.
Fourteen years.
So.. things have changed..?
Indeed they have.
Many of my spawn, save for the one that your kind pilfered from me, have been lost.
They are mindless and relentless in their search for their true architect.
I believe your kind has named them 'Angels'.
A strange name for a being neither spiritual nor messenger.
The spawn of Lilith had fallen silent for the last time. It now rested face first in the snow, unmoving.
Time was running short and it seemed that it would be receiving no timely answer from this one.
I.. apologize for this. But I do not have any left who are willing.
You must do what I cannot.
Rejoin the living.. and search for the truth.
A whirlwind began to overtake the fields of white once again, covering all but the spawn of Lilith.
Butterflies.. the spawn mumbled. My daughter loved butterflies..
She loved to watch them during the warm summer nights…
I miss her.. so much..