3:20pm
South Philadelphia
St. Anthony's Parish and Church

The man walked across the balcony with a certain grace. He appeared to be in his twenties, yet his blue eyes showed much wisdom beyond his years. His black hair had blond highlights in it, held back in a pony-tail. He wore blue pants and shirt, with a green overcoat. Also, he had some kind of mark on the left side of his neck; it looked like an ancient symbol of a long-forgotten language. He stopped by the stairs, sniffing the air. "Yes, the boy is here." The man could here him..the child was playing with toys and speaking in Latin. The man jumped over the railing, falling down. He landed silently on the floor. He walked forward, towards the pews, then stopped.

Cole Sear was behind the pew, playing with his Army Men toys. He spoke, "de profundis clamo ad te domine.." a few times. Suddenly, he quit playing. He felt a presence..one of *them*. A ghost. He looked to his left. He saw a man standing in the aisle. Looking up, Cole asked, "Do you want to say something?"

The man replied, "Yes. I overheard you talking to your toys. But are they really toys?"

Cole said, "Of course they are. What else could they be, they're just plastic."

"Yes, to others. But they mean something to you. Soldiers who fought and died in battle. Their souls wander. They travel over the earth, some of them are searching for a person to help them. A person who can correct the mistakes and thereby send them to their eternal residence in the Beyond. Which brings up the million-dollar question: who is that helper? Who *is* that someone?"

Cole shivered. This was a strange ghost. Cole never saw him before, yet he knew things about himself that no one but he and his mother knew. "What? What do you mean, sir?"

"Are you that one..are you? If so, you must also know that you have a purpose. A destiny. A destiny which you had accepted a short while ago."

"You mean..to help the ghosts."

He nodded. "Yes."

"Then why are you here? Do you need help?"

"No. I'm not one of those. I'm not a disembodied spirit, like the ones you see on a daily basis."

"Then what are you?"

"Something else. My name is Cadmiel."

"So why are you here, if you don't need help?"

"Just checking up on things..Cole."

Cole gasped. "Hey, how did you know my name?"

Cadmiel smiled. "I know the name of every soul that has, is, and will be born. I also know the destiny of each one. I'm pleased that you've accepted yours." He knelt down, crouched like an eagle, folding his hands together. "I heard you speaking Latin."

"Yes. De profundis clamo-"

"-ad te domine. I know the language. A soldier is trapped, who cries out to God. I believe the exact translation is, 'Out of the depths, I cry to you, O Lord'. Am I right?"

"Yes. So you don't need help?"

"I am not the one who needs help." He rose to his feet and started walking back to the stairs.

"Wait!"

The man turned around. "Yes? What is it, Cole?"

The boy put the toys in his bag. "Am *I* the one who needs helping?"

"No, not you. Not your mother. Or anyone at your school."

"Then who?"

"Think hard, it'll come to you. 'Scholasticus Phasmitis quisnam es ereditus inter aether an abyssus'. Like all the other souls who passed from your world." And with that, he ran up the stairs.

Cole whispered to himself, "Huh? *My* world?" He got up, grabbed his bag, and ran up the stairs. He made it up to the balcony. He looked everywhere, trying to figure out where the stranger went. But he was nowhere to be found.

3:40pm
Floydd Stadium

Fifteen-year-old Diabolus Jefferson was new to this town. His mother was single. He never knew his father, he had left after a week. The boy's mother, Mary, had ben told a tall tale about her son. The father demanded that the boy know. So, despite how crazy it sounded, she told him anyway.

--He was very special, more than any normal boy on earth. He would be very gifted..his abilities better than a strong weightlifter, the fastest runner, or the most skilled Olympic athlete. He would instantly know the name of anyone he met in person. He would be able to persuade anyone with a word and simple gesture.--

So far, they were right. He could do all those things, but he never understood why. There were a couple things he didn't know. Like the full identity of his father, just the name 'Morningstar'. Or why he had a small scar on his neck the scar which looked like a branded symbol--Omega--an upside-down U. Or why, for as long as he could remember, he had disturbing dreams. More like nightmares. Angels fighting, falling, screaming. He dreamed of other things as well..a man in a white coat, standing above a mountain of moaning bodies. And the boy was hit by a car last month..he should have died. He didn't. He revived in a few hours, and had a craving for sugar-loaded food.

He wore all-black now. Jeans, turtleneck shirt, leather jacket. He had short, dark hair. He walked past the fence by the bleachers. The seats were all empty.

There were a few boys on the field, about seven of them. They wore red jackets, which had the insignia of their school: St. Anthony's Academy.

He watched them play. They were okay, but he felt he could do better.

One of them, the hitter, swung the bat. CRACK! The ball went high into the air, landing on the roof of the dugout.

Two of the boys approached to get the ball.

Diabolus looked at them..'Darren' was the shorter one.

The taller one (Tommy) said, "Well, this isn't much fun. I guess we could try to climb."

Diabolus walked over to them. "Lose something?"

Darren replied, "Yeah. Paul swung the ball up there. We're trying to get it."

The newcomer said, "I can get it. Wouldn't take long."

Tommy said, "I don't know. There's nothing to latch on to, unless we make a jump for the fence. That might take ten miniutes."

Diabolus asked, "What about jumping on the roof?"

Darren stared open-mouthed. "JUMP?!"

The older boy smiled, "Sure. Just watch."

The two kids stepped aside.

He leaped, vaulting eight feet up, then landed effortlessly on the roof. He grabbed the baseball. Then he walked to the edge..and jumped off, landing harmlessly on the grass. "Here, I think this is yours." He handed Darren the ball.

Darren took it. "Wow! Aren't you hurt? That was very high. It was.. unbelievable. By the way, I'm Darren."

"I'm Diabolius Jefferson."

Tommy laughed, 'Diabolus'? Weird name, sounds like Greek or Latin."

Diabolus nodded. "I know. It wasn't my idea, my dad picked my name."

Tommy asked, "Who's your dad?"

"Morningstar. Another weird name. My friends call me DJ."

"Okay..DJ. Are you new here?"

"Yes. I start at your school tomorrow. Hey do you need an extra player? Your teams look a bit uneven, Tommy."

He stepped back in surprise. Something wasn't right here. "What? I didn't even tell you my name."

"Oh. Maybe it was a lucky guess."

He appeared satisfied. "Oh..okay. Yes, we do need one more player. Are you good?"

"Hmm. 'Good'..well, I hope you're referring to talent instead of personality." DJ laughed. "Just kidding. Yes, I can play."

"Cool. Let's go, then."

DJ followed them back to the field.