PROLOGUE
A well dressed man entered the inner sanctum of his employer, a dome-shaped room deep underwater—on a private island. A large, picturesque window looked out into open, crystal water, as an abundance of sea life swam by of every sort with streams of sunlight cascading down from the rippling surface.
At the centre of the room sat a white grand piano, with Chopin - Nocturne Op.9 No.2 being performed masterfully by the individual at the keys, with a talent only instinct and genetics could accumulate.
The well dressed man stood and waited at a distance, his back stiff, his hands at his side, and in silence, and listened for the music serenade to complete, as the atmosphere outside the reinforced structure acquiesced to the beautification of the sound as it echoed the large, dome room.
The individual sat quietly for a moment, one with his thoughts. He had played the entire piece with his eyes closed, his hands moving fluently over the keys as if he could see them in his mind.
"Excellently played, young sir," said Gravitti, standing erect, in servitude.
The individual behind the grand piano looked at the keys for a moment, then brought his gaze up to look at Gravitti. His eyes were cold and hard, his pupils sterile of any emotion. He actually frowned, as if the complement had been an insult. But Gravitti knew that was how the Evangelist was.
The Evangelist took a finger and brushed a strain of white hair from his forehead, the tuff of white dissecting the black. Someone within his circle of associates once joked he looked like skunk. That man was now at the bottom the deepest ocean.
So young, yet so accomplished—the individual here, known as the Evangelist was a prodigy with many talents. He was also a religious cultist leader and an inspiration to millions of his followers. Weekly, his broadcasts would play over the internet and on televisions around the world. A Christian preacher, he was even invited for an audience with the Pope. Still, the young man was far from what he seemed.
Without a spoken word, the Evangelist then entered into a sonata that Gravitti knew to be from Mozart: Fantasia in C minor, K.475 - Adagio - Allegro - Andantino - Più allegro -Tempo I. The brilliance of the music was like Mozart himself was giving a private performance, playing through the hand of this intellectual mastermind.
Gravitti had been summoned by the Evangelist, but as the master played he dared not interrupt him.
Notwithstanding, the Evangelist spoke as he played. "Speak, Gravitti," he demanded.
Gravitti swallowed softly. "The game has ended, Alexandre Monet has perished. And to the victor goes the spoils. Light Yagami survived. And our spy observed Beyond Birthday escape the helicopter seconds before it exploded with Monet, then fled with his friends. Your message was delivered to each."
The Evangelist's fingers danced across the ivory keys. He smiled, pleased. The music twinkled like starlight into a playful stance, as if two small, fat angelic cherubs were dancing with joyful pride on a cloud of white without a care in the world. It was beautiful in its infinity.
"Excellent, leave them alone for the moment and allow my message to sink in," he said. "With my message delivered, them will no doubt come to me before long. The testament of justice waits for no man and the truly wicked will be branded with the mark of the beast. Both are guilty as sin."
And for a split second, the Evangelist's eyes glowered like sparkling diamonds, hit by a multiple kaleidoscope of colours within the light spectrum as he gleamed a bright, white toothy smile.
And Gravitti knew a great war had been declared and was about to fought.
The Evangelist continued to play. "I was unable to see Yagami due to a prior engagement," he said, his hands coursing over the keys, the music coming naturally, "but I will make time for him now. My sister played with Yagami in my absence, and I know he caused you come grief, but all that foolishness has been laid to rest. The League has agreed that Yagami must be taken to task for his actions and I have accepted the responsibility. I hoped my warning would have dissuaded him to cease his actions, but he failed to heed it. I don't allot second chances. Hence, my next course of action is clear."
Gravitti bowed, he needed no instruction on this. He made his way to a wall that lead inside another room, removed a black glove, and pressed his palm against a reader. It flashed read, then green, and released a sliding wall. On a platform, sliding out from a secret room, came a large cylinder glass container with an unconscious individual, dressed ostentatiously. His arms were chained above his head and his feet were likewise, suspended in animation.
The prisoner was one of the three supernatural beings known to exist in the Astral Plain, this one was called Epiphany—the owner of "The Book of the Third Eye". The Evangelist had captured him while inside his own realm, but with the Evangelist's godly powers, not even an astral deity was safe from his grasp. The Evangelist now possessed the astral god's sacred book, owning it like a Shinigami's Death Note.
The young man stood up and walked out from behind the grand piano. He wore all black clothes.
His power stemmed from a multitude of facets, which was why he was a high ranking member of The League of Darkness—an organization that thrived on its use of Shinigami to dominate their world. He had built a grandiose organization under the guise of pseudo. And people loved him.
Years ago, he was handed a Death Note, which gave him the ability to see and interact with the Shinigami Realm and alike. He used the gift wisely.
He looked at the imprisoned and unconscious astral god. He looked more like something from a bizarre halloween bizarre than a god of inter-dimensional, galactic plains.
The being wore a full black body suit with white skeletal-like armour. He also wore white knee-high boots and gloves. His face was covered with a ghastly white makeup. His lips were black with dark circles around his eyes like a pantomime clown. He also covenanted a short cape. He was youthful in appearance and had thick black hair.
The Evangelist placed a hand on the glass. "You are mine, astral god," he said pridefully. "And once I learn everything you know and possess your powers, I will be a true god—and in fact, Kira personified! My persona in his plain of existence is limited, but when I learn all your secrets I will be—"
The astral god suddenly snapped his eyes open. The astral god didn't speak to him, but the Evangelist felt a coldness from the others eyes. Without his book, and within the chamber, the astral god was powerless. But the stare was contemptuous.
But the Evangelist was not fearful. And this was all a part of his agenda.
"You are a fool," he heard Epiphany speak telepathically. "And you will suffer beyond the heaven's wrath!"
The Evangelist smiled broadly, but he didn't respond.
With a nod, Gravitti pressed the panel on the wall, and the cylinder with Epiphany pulled back into the wall, with it closing. The astral god was not a threat, his words meaning nothing.
Gravitti turned, and in a locked box on a pedestal next to the wall, he removed a black book, covered with a red cloth. He handed it to the Evangelist.
The Evangelist opened the black book—The Book of the Third Eye—and placed his hand over a page. Instantly, he was granted its knowledge, as if its symbols were genetically transposed into his mind in a language he couldn't understand visually, but translated through his mind's eye—a language not known to the Human World. But the transfer drained him each time and he could only take in a page per day. The knowledge was just so extensive, universal in origin, and cosmic in nature.
"Sir," Gravitti said, noticing the fatigue.
The Evangelist waved him off, as his senses and facilities were quickly restored through the power of his faith. He handed the book back to Gravitti, who returned it back to the lock box, wrapped in red cloth.
"I'll retire to my chambers now, Gravitti," the Evangelist said.
"Yes, sir," the man bowed.
But just as he was exiting, Sappho, his twin sister strolled in. She was a tall and beautiful woman. Compared to her, he looked like a younger brother. But while he looked young, he was wise beyond his years and had the intelligence of a sage.
He glared at her, disappointed with her after e learned what she and Light Yagami had done within the confines of his super-built underwater structure.* How she had behaved towards him like a suitor.
(See: "The Power of a God")
"I just heard," she said. She looked at him harshly. "That was foolish, brother. Our prior encounter with Yagami was just an introduction and the League wasn't happy he escaped or had been brought here."
"Silence!" he ordered. "Light Yagami is my plaything and I'll deal with him in good order. And that insufferable annoyance—Beyond Birthday! He and I have a score to settle ourselves. While sheer witted and intelligent, he almost destroyed my entire organization."
The Evangelist smirked, as he recalled their previous encounter—one that almost ended with Beyond Birthday devoured by a school of hungry tiger sharks, as he attempted to escape his stronghold.
He sighed. Dealing with his sister always caused him indignation.
"We shall talk later, sister." The Evangelist walked away.
But as he left, he vowed both his enemies will be subjected to higher godly sense of justice—the Evangelist's kind.
To be continued...