FLASH!

As it stepped out of the lone televator, it found itself in a city not unlike the one it had just left behind. Red Converse padded gently against the war-torn concrete, over burnt bodies and around ashen plains scorched from the years of abuse dealt to them at the hands of the Garde, the Terrans [humans] and the Mogadorians. Walking through the streets of New York City was no different than walking through that of downtown Dallas; in fact, no other town in the world had been left unaffected by this war. A war that still raged, just not on these plains anymore. A war that should never have come here until they brought it, a war that had found itself on Terra [Earth]'s doorstep almost sixty years too early, when its citizens were unprepared and subsequently slaughtered.

That's not to say that the people of the previous timeline had been prepared for alien invasion, far from it, in fact. But the people of this time were still naive and trusting younglings [children], barely out of the Cradle of Life and who had found themselves at the wrong end of the stick. All because they had decided to take out a few key players, hoping to circumvent another planet's destruction. Oh how cruel the universe really was, to replace Lorien's destruction with that of its sister planet, Terra. The universe was fickle that way, always craving balance. You could pull and stretch the rubber band that was the universe all you pleased, but eventually everything would snap back into place; returning to the norm once more.

Each of its footsteps imprinted themselves into the ground with each loralite-coated step. As the deity with the face of a youngling, made its way down the warped street towards the only still-standing building in the whole city—the Hotel Obsidian—the world seemed to slow to a crawl. The flickering fires danced in slow-motion, towers of smoke wafted lazily towards the heavens and the abundant swarms of roaches that populated the city—the only thing that still thrived there—twirled around its feet as they scattered in every direction.

The thing—the Entity—that had taken the shape of Theodore-Ent—for it was most certainly neither a human being nor a Loric in its entirety—mused over the boy's fondness for these people who had long since vanished. These people that its host had claimed as his own were problematic, at best, and yet the youngling still loved them for all that that was worth. It had always found it strange to carry around these memories—memories imprinted on it, by the youngling, however unintentional—of a family that it had never truly known but still knew anyway. It was like…like remembering a movie of someone else's life; a memory of a memory or a dream of a dream.

There was the schoolboy Heren whom he had just left behind in Dallas with his associate. That Augment was the human embodiment of skepticism & sarcasm, much like how that Povan woman was full of her neverending lies. There was the bedraggled Wenon & his conspiracy theories about this planet's current leader that never made any sense and the ghostly Pellaren with his weakness for any number of intoxications. There was the well-built Seakon who had both given up hope and tried to end the Entity upon its discovery, but only when it wore the face of this youngling.

There were the younglings who had been chosen as the next generation of the Council Ennead and their respective Cêpans who both protected & taught them. There were the fellow Garde whom this youngling had grown up with, learning the ways of the Loric before the universe had turned to shit. Not to mention, there was this chunky chimaera whom had found a home amongst these strange terrans. Even now when the squat canine had followed the Entity through the televator and was currently chasing the roaches around the ruined city as if nothing was wrong.

What a strange people this boy had chosen; it was too bad about the Lien du Lorne [The Bond of the Forsaken], it really was.

The sun had begun to make its ascent into the sky, replacing the moon that had once hung there by the time the Entity had made its way though this skeleton of a city and arrived at the only building still standing in its whole & entirety. This close to the Cradle of Life and its vera's bosom, it didn't bother to hold onto that hair-trigger grip on its ineffable Legacies (as it had become accustomed to do over the years). And with every step that it took—bringing it closer & closer to its place of birth—the heartbeat song in its ears sang true, blocking out all other sounds and sent fondness coursing through its core.

It had been a long time since it had returned to this place; far longer than it cared to remember. In the life of a youngling it was almost impossible but in the life of one such as itself, it was but a mere blip on the scale of things. Still, it was nice to return to the Cradle even if everything around it had fallen to ruin. A fond smile crept over its lips as it thought of returning to its vera's embrace, how her hands would cradle it close and her tears would cease, if only for a moment. She would tell tales of its siblings; of the gods & goddesses who tore the world apart to see the light and of the doro, up in the heavens, who watched over them all.

Loralite sang within its veins as it made its way through the twisting halls of the old hotel, limbs setting themselves alight in blinding lumen as a childish sort of glee filled it. After all of these years, it was finally going home! Finding that Orlin youngling on that fine day had been a complete stroke of luck, just some happy accident wherein the boy had managed to find one of the few naturally-spawned portals hidden around the world. It had completely forgotten it was there, to be honest. And later, after the ordeal with the Garde and the hotel, it had closed all remaining portals so that no more wayward children would find themselves falling into the Cradle of Life, only to find themselves as younglings out of time.

Younglings were precious; any culture—terran, loric, chimaeran or otherwise—could tell you that. They were precious and, as such, had to be protected; hence why it had closed those remaining portals after that gaggle of Garde had wandered into the Cradle of Life and subsequently succumbed to the dangers that lurked there. It was the Cradle of Life, afterall, the place where all things—good and bad—were born. It was such a pity that they had to go like that, but at the very least they could be satisfied in the knowledge that those younglings would remain forever in the Cradle as guardians of this place.

Personally, it thought that it pulled off Garde rather well, okay yes, there were some discrepancies that it thought were absolutely pointless to have and had, as such, just left them off. Because why did such creatures need an indent in their stomachs? Why did they have hair on their faces? Why did they not regrow missing limbs? Or let their wounds remain, leaving imprints upon their skin? Surely, if they had the option to fix such things, then they surely would. They were such strange creatures, but it loved them all the same; even if its siblings had often teased it for such a thing. But what did they know? Yugid [The Guiding Eyes] never left Doro Lluma's side and Nakhon [The Goddess of Spring] had a fondness for animalistic younglings that was just as embarrassing.

But those days were long past now; now the world had to restart. No holdbacks; all of the cards were on the table now as it ran freely, without restraint, towards the White Buffalo Room where the doorway to the Cradle of Life lay waiting. Absently, as it rounded the corner to the room and yanked open the door with far more force than was necessary, it sent a prayer to the terran & the Heren left behind in Dallas. If all went well and all went to plan, then those two would travel back in time once more and right the universe as promised. They had agreed that they needed to hit the reset button on this whole shebang, because there was only so much that the Entity could do without its siblings or the Garde; without the proper tools at its disposal. To do that, it needed its Pillars to be prepared and ready, ripened for the Festival of Conception. But the Pillars had not been ripe enough by the time the festival had rolled around in this timeline and they had missed their chance to change the damage wrought.

The Entity would admit, that a good portion of this planet's troubles were caused by its own reckless abandon upon first leaving the Cradle of Life. But it had been soooooo long since it had seen another face and it had heard enough stories from Vera Lore [Mother Lore] to catch the travel bug that had also enraptured its siblings. Really, it was only a matter of time before it too, decided to leave the nest. The fact that the Orlin youngling managed to find it before that happened, well the universe works in mysterious and ineffable ways. The youngling came in and the Entity went out; swapping places without much care. And it was good fun in the beginning, but then the consequences of that fun quickly came up and bit them in the ass. This Lore-forsaken war had riddled it with guilt that had at first, felt unjustified and then later, all encompassing.

Flexing its hands with minimal thought, the Entity slid out of the loralite tunnel and sucked in a deep breath, filling its lungs with that sweet, sweet scent of Vera Lore. Even in the entrance of this place, it could feel the vibrations of her heartbeat rippling across the floors and echoing about the walls. Like a drum of war, the thunderous soundwaves danced about the enchanted halls, tearing down anything that dared stand in its path. On a whim, the sound jumped up into the air where it danced amongst the falling projectiles and ripped through the stars like it was made of so much more than just a sad woman's beating heart.

Lumen pulsated from every direction as the bones of her skeleton loomed over it, embracing its delicate body. Glancing upwards, towards the heavens, the Entity found its vera staring down at it with eyes like the sun; eyes filled with loralite that danced in those huge orbs and crackled there, beneath her skin like lightning in a bottle. And high above her, dancing amongst the blood-stained stars, Doro Lluma's scourge of lightning echoed her cry and crackled in kind, lighting up the constellation that was Yugid. It was almost beautiful, in a way, that welcome home. What was it that Hilde always said? Oh, that's right! "…The question is not IF, but HOW. For you see, the game's afoot; follow your spirit…and upon this charge cry Lore for Ennead, Terra & Lorien!"

Slipping into the cavity that the Entity called home, it decided that whether this world finally came to an end or if those two terrans were actually able to pull it off, it would do as its creators had done and sink back into the cosmos; returning to the Cradle of life, pressed there against its vera's bosom until the next time it was awakened. When the world had terraformed again, bringing back new life and maybe even its people. Maybe new people would arrive and colonise this place. Maybe it would wake to see them get their second chance. Life would spring from death, just as it always had and it would be there to watch over it all.

Such was the life of the Entity.

What the hell happened? Five puzzled to himself as they stood there, watching Theodore-Ent slip off into the horizon with the dog on his heels, disappearing though a free-standing elevator door in the middle of the street. It was so strange, he was there one minute and gone the next; just poof in a flash of light! It had to be one of his father's inventions, he was sure of it. Not that it mattered because as soon as those doors slid shut behind his nephew, Five felt this deep sense of loss cut him deep. It seemed like the world should've shattered at his departure, but it remained standing even as it burned and its people fled.

"You can't save 'em if you're dead" Hazel softly reminded him. It wouldn't be long now, in fact, they could already see the hull of the Arks disappearing from the atmosphere as the ships prepared to flee to a safer galaxy. Now, there truly was, no one left.

Five quietly grumbled to himself like the old man that he truly was. "…This better work" And as the world was left to burn once more, the time traveller took up Hazel's outstretched hand. The two disappeared in a flash of familiar blue, leaving behind only a broken world and a desolate street. Again.

WHOOSH!