-Well, here it is! The 2nd chapter. Hope everyone likes (Sorry, it's kinda short), and I'm completely open for suggestions! The main plot, climax, ending, etc. has already been decided, but I'm totally open for side-plots and pairing suggestions. And thanks to everyone for the reviews!

Chapter 1: Oblivion

Charlie's early morning routine was, at best, an ineffective one. Due to extreme reluctance towards his early morning destination (and the fact that the only one on Filbert Street who was ever enthusiastic about his attending Bloor's Academy was a withered old woman in a very gaudy robe) there was no one who dreaded the rising Sun more.

It was consistent, reliable, and fairly monotonous: He'd wake up, catch sight of daylight, and hope to catch something far more viral. As if her daily schedule was planned around Charlie's most difficult time of day, Grizelda Bone would take it upon herself to make everything even more difficult. After all: a puddle of mud isn't all that bad until someone chucks it at you.

But this morning was different. It was the first Monday morning since Charlie's father had finally been rescued from his mental prison, and the first Monday morning since Grandma Bone had completely abandoned her residence for the past eleven years with all of her things, and not so much as a note left behind. It was the unusual afternoon silence that gave her absence away. Charlie figured she was showing cowardice towards the recent blow to "her side" of the battlefield. And understandably so: Her relationship with her son was pretty much beyond repair.

And Charlie figured he couldn't complain. His home life was no longer held together by the lies and interference that came with being dependent on the Yewbeams. There was no longer any stress involved in speaking inside the walls of his own home. Conversations were more sacred than they had ever been, and Charlie was beginning to understand the feeling of security in a real home, with the protection of two loving parents, that most kids his age took for granted.

But thus far, he hadn't had the opportunity to enjoy it. Charlie immediately recognized the signs of calm before a great storm, and knew very well that the scale had been tipped. In the favor of good, but tipped none the less. And he understood better than anyone else did (except for Cook, of course) that any form of disturbance within the sanctity of the balance was a very bad thing. If the good were to negate the bad, it would begin as a peaceful arrangement, but it would not remain that way. If humans could not do it, nature would take it upon itself to set things in order. Death and corruption would result until both sides became equivalent once again. It was a terrible cycle, and it had to be prevented. If not, whom would they lose to the other side? Would Tancred be lost to them again, this time forever? Or perhaps Olivia's powerful gift would finally be revealed to Dr. Bloor? Charlie couldn't think of it without getting an icy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He usually pondered all this in a doze just after waking and a couple minutes before his mother's soft knock on the door. But the previous night's nightmare had him sleeping at this time, and he was unceremoniously awoken by a burst of roundhouse noise that made Grandma Bone's wake-up calls seem reasonably sincere. He fell out of bed, untangled himself from a mass of blankets, then bolted to his window in record time. Although, not without first stumbling over his desk chair, as he usually did every once in a while.

The sight of the neighborhood from his second-floor view left him incredulous, and all his musings of the Endowed and his recent nightmare dissolved. For, just several meters below him, there was a matter of deeply unsettling results that had not before occurred on his street: It was being torn apart by the pets of all who lived there.

Trash bins were overturned, littering the once carefully kept street with newspapers and cans. Dogs gnawed at their leads and chains; some burrowed near their fences, desperate to be free of all physical bindings. Cats were hissing wildly, and arching their backs at inanimate objects such as post boxes. The entire scene was hysterical, and Charlie was extreme confused as to the fact as there was not a single human being anywhere near the street, not even police. No one seemed to be making a single effort to restrain his or her pets. Weren't they worried their animals would be lost or injured in the frenzy? Surely they could hear the tremulous howling, since it was practically piercing the sound barrier.

Charlie threw on his clothes and shoes in a matter of seconds; a talent he had obtained from many overslept mornings. If his mind hadn't been so occupied with the situation at hand, he might have noticed the eerie stillness within the house. Not a movement was to be seen, nor a sound (other than the unrelenting howling outside) to be heard.

Charlie bounded off the landing and towards the front door. For the first time he understood his Uncle Paton's choice saying in life: "Hesitance makes time seem swift, but swift feet makes time appear hesitant." It felt indeed as if the faster he tried to move, the more sluggish his progress became. All his instincts begged him not to open the door and step outside. Why, Charlie didn't know. He wasn't afraid of these pets that he knew and had got on with so well on numerous previous occassions. There was something else out there. Something far more grave than a ravaged street.

Stepping outside, time was still. Charlie felt his gaze slowly uplift to the sky above, as if completely free of his will. And what he saw was like nothing anyone of this Earth had ever seen before.

The sky was completely amassed by a swirling, black abyss.