From smog and darkness, the green eyes of a cat watched barbaric heathens frolic. Deathstar glanced down from the heavens at the soil he claimed for his kin, a hardy turf caked with blood and rust, proof to the eons of pricked toes and lost teeth from both hooligan Twoleg kits and the felines which now claimed this court as their own. By day, sleek bodies of those felines long since rejected by even those from the bottom slime of society's dredge slithered about, sharing tongues and trying to survive another day. By night, more-or-less the same thing happened, except with a lot more screaming. "Things have long since calmed since I left the colonies." The spectral leader turned to face the rest of the night-stalkers's ancestors, each more ugly, pierced, and rough than the last.
The name of his Clan, much like the dirge he welcomed inward, had become lost to memory of the mountain colonizers. How Clear Sky and the rest faired was anyone's guess. He felt far less need to worry about the other Clans than the animals below.
"You look tired." Deathstar's voice was accompanied by the soothing calm of an old friend, Throatygrowl. "I'm always tired." The ancient leader meowed back. "Moreso tonight. Do you remember what Riverstar said when we split from the forest?" Throatygrowl mused a tilt of her head. "Was it 'get out of here you savages, and if I ever see you again I'm going to hold you under the river until you stop struggling?'" Deathstar shook his own. "No... no... it must not have been him. What about Windstar?" Throatygrowl meowed, "Was it 'you're not even a real Clan. DeathMetalClan is a stupid name?'" The ancient leader's patience was already running thin. "No... no... I don't care what any of those wussbags have to say about me or my kin... the important thing is that ONE of them said something about 'You will seek the forge, and within be soldered to your heritage?'" Throatygrowl was less than impressed. "Something like that. You reckon it's a prophecy?"
A survey of the court was in order. Deathstar pondered, "As close as we've ever gotten to one. How do you suppose I deliver it to them?" Throatygrowl let out a purr. "Don't worry about it. I'll give them some 'pizazz.'" Both cats laughed. "Knock them dead," the older tom meowed, before dissipating back into the sea of darkness above.
Dreadkit was hardly a moon old when he saw it. Abruptly in the evening sky, the image of a screaming cat skull descended onto the camp of DeathMetalClan. Lightning accompanied the hailfire crash. The thunder shattered several windows nearby, and no doubt several eardrums. Before the dust could settle, a writhing mash of bone and hatred rose from the ground in the form of a maw, a maw attached to a beast nearly incomprehensible as anything except a collection of agonized, screaming faces with several spikes protruding from them where any discernable feature should have been. In a voice not unlike an elephant's death rattle, the maw screamed, "I'M ONLY GOING TO SAY THIS ONCE, AND DISMEMBER EACH LITTLE ONE OF YOU WORTHLESS TURDS THAT DOESN'T HEAR ME, SO LISTEN GOOD - THIS IS A PROPHECY FROM STARCLAN! YOU WILL SEEK THE FORGE, AND WITHIN BE SOLDERED TO YOUR HERITAGE-"
As he finished, Bunnychoker, an elder whom Dreadkit knew as a great storyteller, hollered. "What does that even mean?"
Big mistake.
The goliath specter outreached what appeared to be a hoof, and slammed it down into Bunnychoker, smashing the cat into a red and white paste almost instantly. The phantasm bellowed, "DO NOT INTERRUPT ME!" Another cat, a younger tom of golden stripes, meowed an inquiry, "So what's the rest of the message?" The goliath released a howl of frustration and rage, gripping the tom by his tail and, with a hearty swing, slammed him into a Twoleg nest of rectangular, red stones. Dreadkit thought best the tom died from the first impact, as the goliath began whirling the mangled corpse overhead before slamming it into a metal tree rising from the court, splitting the tom's head from his body and sending it into the crowd of onlooking clanmates, before releasing it to be hurled into Twoleg traffic. "I SAID," the goliath bellowed, "DO. NOT. INTERRUPT ME!"
After a beat of pause, it continued, "THAT IS THE END OF MY MESSAGE. HAVE A GOOD DAY." It leapt into the sky, parting the clouds before disappearing into the sun.
Moments later, the scene calmed. The mystical prophet had departed, leaving behind murder and confusion. So much confusion that a Twoleg had wondered into the scene, staring in awe, barely aware of the surrounding cats. The prophet had taken two of his clanmates, but had attracted, for the survivors, a fresh meal. Dreadkit watched the warriors start to surround the onlooker, thinking about how well he and his brother were going to eat tonight.