Stryker knelt at the feet of the Creator. The master of all existence was towering over his head, his holy words penetrating the depths of Stryker's soul. The Creator knew all, and was passing his eternal judgment. All Stryker could do was accept the judgment, and spend eternity atoning for his sins.
My child, my creation, thou hast done wrong, the
Creator spoke. I have seen thy
wrongs, and judged them evil. Thou hath
taken the life of thine own kind, and hath tried to ursurp my own right. Only I shall judge the worth of a life. For this, thou are damned.
Stryker bowed his head in shame. The Creator had spoken, and Stryker's existence was forfeit. Be it hell or oblivion, Stryker would accept his punishment. He had forsaken honor, yet he still clutched the tattered remains about him. He would accept the payment for evil. His honor could accept no less.
Yet, even thusly, thou art still a pure soul, the
Creator went on. Thy actions were
evil, but thy intent was good. Thou
hast killed for the justice of thy love. Thou were wrong in thy choice, yet only I hath the right to
perfection. And thusly, thou shalt have
atonement, my child.
"My master, I killed for jealousy! The rape of my love was only an excuse!" protested Stryker.
Doest thou think that I know not all things in my
creation? Asked the creator. Thou
hast lied even to thyself! I knew thy
thoughts, on the hour you saw the pain of thy love. Thou hast acted in the name of Love, even if thine own heart
knowest his not. Look thusly, my child.
Stryker looked up. A mirror was before him, and the image was of himself sitting on the bench at the hospital. Stryker heard his own thoughts, saw his own emotion. And the Creator was right. Hate and jealousy was but a thin shell over love. What Stryker had done was wrong, yet maybe even he deserved a chance to pay for his debts.
I shall give thee a choice, spoke the Creator. Thou shalt have oblivion, if thy desire,
but thou shalt also have Atonement. I
have tired of creation, and I must go soon to rest. I must leave behind a Guardian, to watch over the worlds, and to
guide them to Ascension. For the Angel
of the Abyss shall bring each world Crisis, and Heroes are required. This shalt be thy job, to protect each soul,
ant to bring the Heroes to each world. What sayest thou, my child.
There was only one choice to be made.
"My master, I accept."
Prepare thyself, then, for the greatest test of your existence.
**
The entire universe was spread out before him. Stryker saw all, life and death, love and hate, anguish and joy. The complexity, the variety of the universe overwhelmed his senses. He saw all things, knew all things, was all things. The great weight of the universe pressed in on his soul, crushing it into near oblivion. It was too much, and Stryker was shattered.
A plane of glass appeared under the shattered remains. Entombed under the glass, a dark angel slept, his black wings folded over his chest, his dark hair still. Stryker's remains shifted as a black substance flowed out of the pieces, and through the glass. As the darkness flowed around the angel, it began to stir. Soon it would be awake, and it would spread crisis amongst the universe.
Stryker's remains stirred. Each shard of soul was aware, knowing that it was incomplete. They cried out for completeness, begging to be made whole again. The Creator stood by, watching. He knew that he could do nothing, for the Guardian must not be only his creature, but it's own creature as well.
The shattered pieces of soul soon quieted. No help would be forthcoming. They would have to act on their own.
One piece reached out to another. They fused, and reached for a third. Soon, the entire mass came together, and a man arose from the ashes. Stryker Roland was no more. All that remained was the Guardian.
A creature arose beside the Guardian. The Angel of the Abyss stood, turning to glare at the Guardian. The two looked at each other, and knew each other. "Guardian," spoke the Angel. "Abaddon," spoke the Guardian. Then the Angel of the Abyss vanished, drawn towards it's own master.
The Guardian knelt at the Creator's feet. Drawing his sword, the Creator placed it in the Guardian's hand. Placing the golden blade in his other hand, the Guardian began to speak.
"Thus do I stand before my master, and offer my atonement."
"I shall watch over the universe, and protect it from all evil, inside and out."
"I shall guide the souls of the universe, and give them peace."
"I shall provide Heroes, to face the Crisis of each world, and shall guide them to victory."
"I shall await until the end of time, until the day the Creator returns, and shall never have rest."
"I shall do all of this, at the cost of forfeiture of my soul."
The Guardian drew the gleaming golden blade through the palm of his hand, and spilled his lifeblood at the Creator's feet. The Guardian then sheathed the sword at his own side, and spoke.
"My master, I shall await your return."
Suddenly the Creator was gone, and the Guardian was alone. As the Creator rested, the Guardian would watch.
The Guardian settled back, and began his watch. He had all of eternity to wait.