Initium is Latin for, "Beginning, start, commencement".

Chapter Two: Initium

At first glance, it looked like someone had placed a gigantic crystal cake covering over a large portion of the city. It's crystal walls gleaned in the light of the late afternoon sun as they stare as a group. What seemed more accurate was that it looked like a massive quarantine bubble. You could see almost inside of it but, as they have already established, one would have to be a fool to want to pass it's walls to go inside. It was like looking into the world of the dead. The air inside appeared murky and haunting, giving the buildings and streets caught within its barrier a ghostly stillness. Then there were the bodies. You could not see them readily, but he knows that they are there. The bodies of all those unfortunate ones that were just at the wrong place at the wrong time when this monstrosity appeared.

Initially, would be rescuers, had tried to get inside to help, only to never come back out again and very quickly there was mass hysteria. It had quickly become apparent, that it was dangerous for anyone to approach the Dome. The media was all over it and demanded answers from a government that had not one clue as to what this was. More importantly, they had no idea how to get rid of it. They had already been thrown by the crisis that they had been going through prior to any of this ever even occurring. Bad timing was a major understatement. Or perhaps, it was just the right time. Steps had immediately been taken to prevent attempts at entry and road blocks were quickly set up. Which proved to be needless after an overzealous reporter and cameraman had tried getting inside to record what had happened to the citizens caught inside the Dome.

Though the camera did not last long before it inexplicably shut off, from the sounds of the screams that came from both men, it had been clear. Do not go in there. The rising terror that had been evident in the reporter's and cameraman's voices in reaction to what they had seen before they too had been killed was enough to keep anyone from thinking twice about going in. The incident had been an effective warning and saved him the headache of trying to keep people out. After that report, the masses as a whole, stayed as far away as they could get from that thing.

This then led to open and angry protests to push the ruling class to do something. In this, everyone was in agreement. They all wanted it gone. Which was easier said than done, when there was no solution to make this happen. The last two weeks have been a living nightmare for him. The dream that came to him the night it happened has plagued him since this all began and he knows that he must follow where it leads. It did not take a smart man to realize that his dream was a fore glean of what was to come. Everything that had happened since then, has felt like deja vu. He had tried his hardest to warn and prepare those who were chosen for an official expedition into the Dome and felt how powerless he truly was when they met their ill fated ends, regardless of his extra precautions, as he had known they would. He wants to blame it on the injustice of how badly he was demeaned by those in power all through his life for their flippant attitude towards his suggestions, but deep down he knows that there was nothing he could have done to save those people from what happened. It was a lesson to him that he had a title, but that meant nothing if nobody respected him. Which they did not.

The first expedition into the Dome is considered another national catastrophe. One in along line of many that were happening one after the other. So many tragedies in so short a period of time. Especially the one he has tried very hard not to think about too often. The council was doing all that it could to take away his birthright and considering recent events, it seemed likely that they would be successful. He had to prove himself and he had to do it quickly. He had anticipated a war, but never could he have planned for this. Things were happening too fast. People were dying too quickly and they were still dying and they did not understand that either. Many of the Council were dead and the ones that were alive, were desperate for his power. At this point, it would be easy to gain it with the approval of a people desperate for proper leadership.

In the mean time, they had nothing. Nothing to go on to develop a proper defense against this enemy directly in their midst. So they did what they had to do to assure that there would not be outright rebellion amidst the people. So, no matter that it was no safety at all, they still gave the illusion of providing it by the extradited efforts to erect a wall or barrier between the rest of the population of the city and the Dome. It's origins, they would continue to discover but at least the visual effort to protect its citizens appeased the people somewhat. It would not keep them satisfied much longer.

It would be easier if someone would step forward and claim the responsibility of such a travesty, but none were forthcoming. Nobody had been expecting this and nobody knew what to do about it. The Dome merely stood there, for all to see, as a constant reminder that they were powerless. That he was powerless. The council were in discussions on how to destroy it and he agreed that they should, but it was a delicate decision. The location of the Dome made it impossible to try and destroy it with a nuclear device. There was also nothing to indicate that it would even damage it since they had no idea what it was made of in the first place. Even after a week since it's appearance, they were still unprepared and defenseless. It was only natural and inevitable that a caged beast would attempt something desperate and lethal in response to this stress. He feels like he is that caged beast with all the attacks he has been suffering these last two weeks. He does know this for sure though. It is the only thing he does knot for a certainty. He will defend his city. He will protect his Kingdom.

They all look out at the Dome, perched on an abandoned bridge just in view and he can concede that despite it all, it was beautiful in its way. If Death could be beautiful.

"It looks like some demented snow globe," comments Pro, leaning against a pillar.

"It's evil," says Glad. "Pure unadulterated evil."

"I want it gone," he replies. "No matter what the cost."

"I fear the price may be too high for any of us to pay," replies Ignis gravely.

He felt that to be true too. Whatever that thing was. No matter what it's purpose, it would not be gone without grave sacrifice. It had already taken so much from them. It had taken from him and it felt like things were just starting to begin.

"What do you think, Ignis?" asks Glad.

"Something like that takes a massive amount of energy," Ignis starts to explain. "If we could somehow figure out how it was generating so much power, we might be able to severe the connection and make it collapse by itself."

"Do you think the fanatics are right?" he asks. "Do you think this is Etro's gate?"

"I hope not," Ignis replies, taking in a deep breath. "That would mean everyone here is going to die."

"Do you think we are being punished?" asks Pro.

For not sharing the powers of our Crystal, goes unsaid.

"Maybe we need to be," he wonders grimly. "We will most definitely be once this is over."

"So pessimistic..." mutters Pro.

"There has to be something else," insists Ignis, ever the optimist. "For something like this to appear, there has to be something... some demand from somewhere."

He thinks back on his dream and remembers the words the masked man had said. Someone was coming. The stars have fallen. He figures that it is not the presence of the man himself that the man had been referring to. It meant someone else was coming or was already here. Some unknown presence that was yet approaching and not here just yet. His face tilts upwards to the setting sky and shakes his head. The stars had not changed and none had fallen. Did that mean they will? It was said in the past tense. Did that mean others were coming as well?

"Noct? Did you hear me?" asks Ignis.

"What?" he asks, blinking his eyes to focus on his friend. "What did you say?"

"How are you doing?"

"What do you mean by that?" he asks with a frown, at the randomness of the question.

"Not a week after your father is murdered and all this happens," points out Glad. "It's a lot of go through and a lot to process."

"And we still don't have any suspects on who did it," reminds Pro.

He lets out a frustrated breath and resists the urge to rub his forehead.

"I have not forgotten that," he points out. He tries his hardest not to think about it. The way his father had looked when they had found his body. The last look his father's face would ever make. That image was one that he tried to block continually and with effort.

His father had been murdered by an efficient killer. The old man had fought, but not like he should have. Which meant he had hesitated. Which meant that he had known his killer and had cared about them. That did not leave many, as his father ad not been a caring man. So, it was only a matter of time before they figured out who that killer was. For now, there was not enough evidence to point to anyone.

The news of the death of their monarch had hit the people hard. There had been public bouts of mourning in the days following the announcement. People were afraid. Afraid of what it meant to have him reign in place of his father. He who was considered a boy. A boy who had ideas and plans, but was constantly brushed aside by the established government that did not want a boy where a man should be sitting. It was all the stress of inheriting a kingdom and losing a father, whose affection he had never regained that he had been susceptible to morbid dreams. Or so he had rationalized at the time. He had just been reviewing the disturbing results from the autopsy and so it had felt natural to have such a dream about the end of the world. How ironic that he had woken up to find that his world had indeed, ended.

He is just about to say something to this effect to his friends when something from the corner of his sight, catches his eye.

"Noct? Noct what is?" asks Ignis, noticing his look.

"That cannot be," he mutters to himself in disbelief. He clenches his jaw and teleports away without any explanation.

There he was. There, partially hidden within the clusters of buildings, just visible enough to gain his attention. The man in black. The dark man from his dream. Vainly, he tries to reach him in time only to see the dark man turning a corner just as he reaches the spot he had been watching him from. When he reaches that corner, the dark man is walking down a street and making his way down to the trains below. So he races down those steps in pursuit.

Whoever he is, his timing is impeccable. The trains have just unloaded hundreds of passengers, making it easy to blend in and lost in the crowd. The tunnels are packed with commuters coming and going. His eyes scan the many faces in hopes of catching another glimpse of his query but finds no sight of him. Several of the commuters recognize him and begin giving him a wide berth, making it even more impossible to see. He bites back a curse when his phone starts buzzing from within his pocket.

"Yeah," he answers, still glancing to and fro.

" Was it something I said?" Ignis comments dryly.

"Just wanted to stretch my legs for a bit," he shoots back.

"Is that the trains I hear?"

"Yes."

"Felt like discovering what it's like to be packed like a sardine in a moving car?"

"Saw someone?"

"Who?"

He turns around and his eyes focus sharply.

"Noct?"

"I have a stalker," he states, mentally reading the words that have been scratched into the tiling of the wall beside him.

I am watching you.