The sky glowed scarlet and pulsated as the Sun dimmed. The few clouds that hanged in the now-red sky above Dublin shined with an eerie lilac light, as they grew in size and darkness flowed and ebbed, streaming out of the crack that had split the sky in twain, blanketing the green fields of Ireland in the absence of light that was only broken by the glowing wound in the middle of the sky.

General panic soon grew among the crowds in Dublin's city center. People ran away as deep, echoing thrums and thundering earthquakes began to shake the very world around them to its core. Mothers carried their weeping children in their arms as they ran, sons and fathers stared fearfully as Hell itself seemed to spew from the great wound in the sky and the authorities tried and failed to calm the people. In the middle of all this, a single, average young man sat, his breath caught in his throat as a voice cried out to him from his cell phone. The name of the number's owner read 'Mum'.

The man watched as the sky crashed upon the world next. A white-hot flash of light glowed on the horizon and the ground itself started giving way, cracking as the innards of the Earth spewed onto the streets. To the man, the screams of his fellow humans were muffled, deafened by the rippling thunder of the end of the very goddamned world. Mouth agape, the human male stared up at the Great Wound, seeing the ebbing flow of ancient, vile currents that would break a normal human's mind. Past those currents, something stirred and moved, high in orbit above the Cradle of Mankind.

The roar of the planet's crust tearing itself asunder under the great pressures of Gravity and whatever vile power had opened that Great Wound woke the boy from his trance. He looked ahead and gasped as he saw the ground spewing the llifeblood of Earth. A tidal wave of magma washed forth toward the boy. He gasped as his survival instincts kicked in. Despite his desire to run, he had nowhere to go. The flaming blood of Earth came from everywhere.

So, he did the only thing he could do. He braced himself for the burning heat that would surely announce his death.

"I am afraid your time is not yet here..." A disembodied voice whispered in the young man's ear. He staggered, closing his eyes as the ground cracked between his legs and heat soon washed over his skin. Pain, however, never came to him. The sweet release of death had either claimed him early, before his nervous system had time to register the searing heat of magma properly, or...

He tried to shift his weight. There was no ground below him.

With a start, the boy opened his eyes, only to be met by the darkness of an uncaring, cold and empty void. His heart sank, despite he himself feeling weightless, as he looked around the nothingness. He wanted to call out, but his words caught in his throat as he stared at the vast nothing in which he floated. The Afterlife, if this was what it was, was eerily empty. Unsurprisingly silent, too.

He could breathe, at the very least, so there was air in this vast empty void. Taking in a deep breath of whatever air was around him, he looked around, trying to muster the courage to cry out for help, or to call to whoever had whispered to him before his death had come. He had nothing to do here, nobody to talk to. He was never much of a religious fellow, but he'd have, at the very least, expected something to come greet him in the Afterlife.

As his mind began to settle and his breathing subsided and returned to normal alongside his heartrate, which, earlier, was like a German Machine Gun going off on full auto, his mind finally started to process what had happen before him. His chest hurt, as did his mind, while he struggled to comprehend that, indeed, his home planet was gone. Earth had been destroyed in front of his very eyes and for all he knew, he had died with it.

Tears began to stream down his cheeks, warm, salty rivers that came with the memory of his lost home and life. Of his parents, of his work in university and of the fact that he had, for all intents and purposes, just lost everything he ever held dear. He softly whispered to himself, "I'm gone too..." as if that would comfort him in any way shape or form. Indeed, it made it easier to think that he had gone with his entire species... Oh, hell no, it did not.

"Fuck..." He swore to himself, rubbing his eyes as his voice cracked, "Fuck!" He cried again, his voice only slightly louder...

"FUUUUUUUCK!" He then yelled, his voice echoing and rippling through the darkness around, cutting straight into the silence like a dagger. He swore to himself continuously, in both ancient Irish and in English as he flailed around, cursing every creature he could think of, any and every monster that could have done this and even God and the Devil, despite his particularity for atheism.

What he did not seem to notice during his bout of swearing was the void around him filling suddenly. The darkness around him coiled and danced like a nightmare of old, shapes of nothing forming in front of him. His mind finally began to process this sight as he looked forward. He blinked away the tears, rubbing his eyes, then gasped as he saw the darkness well and writhe around him.

The night around him suddenly glowed. Speckled across the veil of dark around him, a million small, white dots flickered into existence everywhere, but in front of him. A black shape stood before him, a cloaked humanoid figure clad in the same darkness that seemed to make up the very fabric of the universe. It turned to face him, revealing a bone mask with two red, diagonal stripes going from underneath the 'eyes' to the side, as well as a deep black gem sat in its forehead. Two wide, black sockets stared at the boy as the shadowy figure loomed.

His heart stopped as he stared at the shadow that seemed to swallow the very lights of creation within its form. It and him stared eye-to-eye for what felt like an eternity, while the boy's brain attempted and failed to process the being itself. He felt a hot liquid pouring out of his eyes and ran his hand over his face, gasping as he saw blood on his now bone-white skin. He winced and wrapped his hands around his head as he felt the most painful head-ache he'd felt in years overtake him.

The figure tilted its head curiously at him, then spoke, its voice eerily genderless, a mix of pitches and sounds, "It seems I was not too late."

"Who..." The boy groaned, closing his eyes as blood seemed to fall into the endles Stars, "What are you?"

"... It is... Unimportant, currently." It offered, "I had forgotten, for how long I had not interacted with mortals, that your... Reactions... to us are not very pleasant."

"Yeah, fuckin'... Tell me about it, pal..." The boy let his Irish accent slip for a bit as he groaned, "Fuck, my brain feels like it's melting..."

"Close your eyes and focus on my voice alone, Jacob McLelan. My form, even this one, is not for humans to see." It stated, "I feel the distress within you... And the many questions you must have."

Whatever it was had oversimplified the boy's current state of mind so quickly. He did as asked, closing his eyes and focusing on the creature's words alone. The darkness once again enveloped his sight, punctuated by the faint flickers of light that managed to slip through the thin skin of his eyelids while blood continued to flow from his eyes and, now, his nose. He stated, a bit of anger in his voice, "You're putting what I'm goin' through a little too lightly..."

"Forgive me." It spoke again.

"It's fine..." He shot back, chuckling darkly, "Not like something like you probably gets human emotion... If you're some spooky fuckin' Lovecraftian horror or other...

"I see what passes for humor still lives within you..." It retorted, "Alas... I am afraid I cannot offer you my name yet, not if your reaction to my simple appearance caused you distress."

He sighed, the thought 'Oh, great, an eldritch being then' flashing into his mind. He spoke, his voice boiling with a rage he barely contained, "Alright. No name needed for now. Answer me this, though. What the hell happened to my planet?" even if he felt like he faced a thing that could easily end his very existence at its very whim. He felt pissed off enough to figure death wasn't such a bad alternative at this point. Nor was unexistence, to be quite fair, since it at least spared him the pain of survivor's guilt.

A sad sigh escaped the nonexistent lips of the creature before him. It spoke, "The Scourge. A plague made by less... honorable peers of mine. One that I had hoped to prevent from striking Earth."

"... oh?" Jacob raised a brow. Strange to think an entity like this would wanna interrupt others for... Well, for what one would assume were bugs against the cosmic windshield.

"Indeed... I had hoped to save Earth and your people from the damages that this sect of my people seems to enjoy causing. There is too much for me to explain at this very moment, young man-" It stated.

"Now, that's bullshit...!" He growled, flailing his limbs around and trying to find purchase, some surface to grab on to... Anything.

"Calm yourself." It ordered, its voice thunderous, harsh. It had sent a chill up the boy's spine, "I saved you, at the very least... Earth was my duty. A duty that my siblings saw fit to relieve me of without my consent, Jacob McLelan. I intend to avenge your people, but I cannot do it without you. It is why I plucked you off of your world before it, too, died. You were the only one I could reach in time. You, a young man. Generally seen as hope for the future in your cultures, if my memory serves me."

"Aye, that... That fits, I think. I wanna ask what the fuck I can do, now that you yoinked me off my dying world, though... But I figure you're gonna tell me either way." He stated simply, trying to let his anger at the monster and its brethren dissipate. It let out a low, guttural sound that sounded like a laugh at first, before it hummed and stared at him. He felt his hairs stand on-end. He was a meager university student, not some super-advanced warrior from the future. Whatever it wanted him to do to prevent the rest of the galaxy from dying, he'd probably die trying to do.

"Indeed. You are sharp... But perhaps you would understand better if I simplfied it. You know the fact that your world is one of untold billions in this galaxy." It started.

"Aye." He nodded, sighing, "Kinda figured. Science'n'all."

"Of course, not all of these worlds would be colonized, colonizable or with an active population on them. Many, are, in fact, dead... Whilst that is the case, there are civilizations beyond the borders of your little system that have developed into full Star Nations. Empires, if you will. Many spread across the stars already." It continued explaining to him like he was a toddler. He nodded again. It smiled, despite its lips being non-existent, "... Earth was not the only world I had under my care, nor was humanity the only Species I partook in the caretaking and guidance of... But it was one of my favored peoples. And, to be as honest as possible with you, you and your classmates were of particular interest to me, due to your studies of both science and the occult."

He raised a brow. It smiled widely.

"Do you wish for me to tell you a name a Mortal would understand? One through which you may refer to me?"

"I'd fuckin' love a name, since you know mine already." He quipped.

It chuckled, once again, a low, guttural growl that sent shivers up the boy's spine.

"It is only fair, then. You may call me The Guardian." It replied proudly, "I am the assigned protector of all sentient beings. The Great Ones have given me, one of their youngest beings, this task to ensure that the universe is kept in balance. I am a being of Order, contrary to what you may think of my similarly... 'Eldritch'..." It had sought that word in his vocabulary. Hell, he felt it prod his mind... "Brethren. And myself."

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"Okay..." Jacob hummed, slowly growing impatient, "And why was I in your focus if you could only pull my ass out of the fire?"

"Straight to the point, I see, young man. Very well." It approached him. He felt its influence looming over him. Seemingly a trillion voices spoke at once when it came closer, all distinct, yet all united, all close, yet all so far, "I cannot keep my eyes on the of this Galaxy at all times. It is why I have Agents, like your old intelligence organizations did. Those who can keep their eyes open for any signs of incursion by my diametrically opposed siblings, the creatures of chaos that tore asunder your home planet. Your youth, combined with your ability to still develop yourself, was the reason I was focused solely on you on this very day."

"... Okay...?" Jacob's heart began to race, "And... You... Plucked me from my dying world to-"

"To be one of my agents, Jacob McLelan. Child of Sarah and Ray McLelan, son of Ireland, borne of Earth." It spoke. He felt it kneel in front of him, its psychic presence horrifically powerful and close to him. He shuddered as he felt few of its thoughts drift around him, by its own will and design. It spoke, "You are the last of your kind. The only one I could save, as saddening as that is for both you and myself. Order itself has picked you as the sole survivor of your planet. An unfair pick, an unfair gamble, perhaps, seeing that you are still very young. I know what I ask of you may seem too much, but believe me, I will offer my full support, as I do with my other agents, even if I have to bend the rules to ensure you accomplish your tasks."

Jacob needed a moment, since he had just learnt so much information at once. That his world had been under the care of an ancient being, probably well beyond his understanding and age. Said being had just offered him a place in its possee as a member of some special Agency it had cooked up to counteract the enemy. It wanted him to help it stop whatever happened to Earth from repeating a billion times over on other civilized worlds and...

He steadied his breath, trying to calm his skyrocketting heartrate, then asked "If I agree... Does that mean I get to go after the fuckers that did this?"

"You will be brought into conflict with my Siblings and their own Forces and Agents, yes... However you would not face them all directly. You would merely prevent their Agents from repeating the destruction wrought upon your world and people. You will be joined by other agents of mine, of course, with whomever else you can recruit. One may even join you once you awake to this new Galaxy." It explained. Jacob sighed, rubbing his eyes and wiping away congealed blood. He breathed in, then out as his heartrate finally slowed back down enough for him to not have it thumping in his ears.

If it meant stopping them from repeating this and somehow screwing with them for what they did...

The boy nodded, "Alright... Fuck it... These bastards took me home from me." He growled, "They killed seven billion people at their whim and in the most horrific way I've ever bloody seen, among them my family. Count me in, Guardian. I've got a score to settle now... And Irish never leave scores unsettled."

"It seems my trust, in both the Forces of Order and yourself, was not misplaced. Even if you do this out of vengeance, I sense a shred of Order, of calmness in you. I hope you can harness it as you move on with the work I'm sending you to do." It stated with the same blunt, stone-cold tone it'd had from the start of this conversation. "Stand and open your eyes, Jacob McLelan. Let your life begin anew."

He felt his feet finally touch whatever amounted to solid ground in this realm, before he opened his eyes. He spoke, "I ain't gonna let these bastards tear another inch of soil from another planet if I can help it. You damn well better be helping me though, even if it's gotta be, as the sayin' goes, 'from the shadows'." And he stared right at it, determined, though his migraine returned in force, eyes bleeding once more. He saw a flash of darkness move.

A gloved hand was extended toward him, the robe of black material hanging off it like a silk shroud. The boy grabbed the ethereal hand with his own and froze, feeling the sub-zero temperature of the skin, even through the stellar cloth in which it was covered. It spoke, its voice resounding across the massive void, "Thus, the Pact has been Sealed..."

And Jacob went blind for a moment.

His entire body suddenly felt incredibly chilly. It genuinely felt like he was laid back in the coldest snow that Ireland had had last year. Shivering and rubbing his own shoulders to stay warm, the young man let his eyes slowly open as the mechanical whirrs and hisses of hydraulics echoed around him. From darkness, emerged light through an oval window in front of him, an oval, opaque window. Steam wafted around the casket the boy had suddenly found himself in. He trembled, hearing the pneumatic seal of the casket break. It popped open, a cloud of steam obscuring his vision, before clearing out.

As he was sat, trembling and rubbing his body for warmth, soaked from head to toe in some sort of liquid, the boy took in his surroundings whilst his heart-rate reached about the same number of BPM as his clacking teeth. A room made of metal, lit by dull white lights hanging from a metallic ceiling and filled to the brim with mountains of cubic metal crates of varrying sizes and colors. He tasted something horrible in his mouth, some form of gel which he had inadvertently swallowed while waking up.

He grabbed the side of the pod, pulling himself out of it and falling onto the hard metal grating floor. He turned himself onto his stomach before regurgitating the sour jelly through the grate. He slammed two fists into his chest, standing straight onto his knee and staring up at the ceiling. The quiet thruum of some sort of propulsion system echoed across the place, similar to what one would think was the sound of a ship.

He breathed heavily, retching again only seconds after he'd emptied his bowels. He stumbled to his feet, wiping his mouth and looking at himself. A mirror, surprisingly enough, sat before him. He was practically naked, clad in a white garb of some kind that was transparent enough to barely see an outline of his spindly little human body. He shook his head, blinking away the new migraine before staggering forward toward a box.

He weakly hefted the square cap of the box and tossed it aside, before leaning against the heavy box, which was at about chest-height. He peeked inside and luckily for him, he saw clothing. His... Clothing... He looked over to the cryopod he'd woken up in, noticing faint writing on the side. Writing in an alphabet that he had never seen before. It was like a combination of cyrillic and Kanji characters, melded into one writing style of angular symbols that meant many things and nothing to him at the same time. Although, to that extent, he also saw a warning sign that was similar to earth ones, a golden triangle with a black outline and a... What he assumed was a variation of the exclamation mark in the alphabet here. It looked like a combination of an up-pointing arrow with a smaller 'tip', as well as three lines emerging from below at varying angles.

He sighed, ignoring the weird caligraphy and pulled his clothing out from the box. Though it smelled like old people, it was still good. He donned the items:A pair white socks, black sneakers with four red side-stripes, a pair tighty-wightys and one of decently comfortable blue jeans and a black shirt bearing a patchwork artpiece showing a soldier with a drawn sword facing off against a foe and the title of some obscure tabletop wargame he enjoyed to play. Last over was his green bomber jacket, which he donned most rapidly to warm himself up.

He shuddered, then murmured to himself "Why the fuck did I agree to this?"

Right, he realized again, revenge. A dumb thought a 22-year-old guy figured he could bring to reality by deciding to face Creatures of Chaos. He was in the Cargo Hold of some kind of ship. He sighed, leaning against the pod behind him and letting his thoughts coalesce into normalcy. Half of him wanted to believe this was just a weird-arse dream at this point, but he somehow knew it wasn't. He decided to examine the pod itself, a marvelous feat of engineering. Walking to its other side, he found the screen displaying his vitals in those same characters... But it was shimmering red and blaring a warning in a red box with yellow-ish lettering.

Malfunction, maybe? Hell, it could've been. It could also be a shitty nightmare, but... Oh, well.

He looked around the rest of the room, to see that similar boxes sat, covered in what he could only assume were cobwebs and caked in layers of dust that should not have, realistically, been anywhere on a Space-Ship if he was on one. He pinched himself hard, but only winced and let out a simple 'ouch', which cued him into the fact that, maybe, maybe, this was not a nasty nightmare that he'd wake up from in his college room...

He'd keep judgements regarding that for later, though. He turned to face a door as it hissed open. A massive bulkhead began to split down the middle, a thick metal door made out of whatever godforsaken alloys made up the dull, grey walls of what he could only assume was a Cargo Hold. He hid behind a mountain of stacked boxes in front of his pod as he heard the screeching thunkthunkthunkthunk of metal stomping against metal.

Staring from behind it at the strangely-wide corridor, which he assumed was a second part of this place's cargo hold, the boy caught sight of a hexapedal machine, trodding fourward on armored legs and bearing what looked to be a weapon of some kind. It had forward, sight-based sensors contained in a pod. They shined an eerie trio of colors, a burning white for the main, big eye, a sharp green for the smallest and a deep red for the middle, the latter two situated diagonally to the left of the red one. Its armor was rusty and discolored, though faint black stripes could still be seen running down two of the six spider-like metal appendages.

Attached to its front was a pair of what the boy assumed to be antenna stalks, what would amount to the robot's ears. The massive weapon on its back, too, seemed to be shimmering, shining with energy and smoke that billowed from around the barrel itself. Steam from heat sinks, the boy soon realized as he saw the trios of slits on each side of the weapon's base.

He ducked as the wardroid's scanner eyes swept over the entie camp, utilizing their advanced sensors to seek targets to kill. He swallowed empty, feeling a cold sweat now dripping down his back, sticking his shirt to his body as his heart raced again. By whatever entity was watching over him right now, he hoped that the bot didn't have any form of heartbeat sensor.

It stood there, scanning its surroundings further, before it let out a low beep. It turned around, its feet slamming into the metal grating and armor plate floor before it scurried off into the darkness of the corridor. The boy let out a breath that he'd been holding ever since the bot itself arrived, listening as the sound of the scuttlebug warbot vanished, to be replaced once more by the hum of the supposed Cargo Ship's engines as it traversed wherever.

He wanted to lay down and figure out a plan. That thing looked like it was seeking out targets to kill. He'd have to find the crew, maybe, warn them, talk to them... If they even understood an iota of English or Irish. He swore to himself, slamming the back of his head onto one of the boxes. It let out a muffled thump, before the boy heard a second one echoing. He jolted, swiveled about and looked to see a figure had emerged from one of the grates above, from a combination of pipes and air ducts that ran between the steel girders on which the lights were attached.

The figure, a slim, seemingly female one, dropped onto the floor. They wore a white uniform of some sort, with a blue stripe around the top, near the collar, as well as some form of padding on their right shoulder with a strange insignia. Four fingers, slightly longer than his own index finger, sat on each appendage, including the alien's variation of a thumb, right one wrapped around the grip of what looked to be a weapon in a holster attached to the beltt. He could hear the heavy breathing of the being.

Going by voice, it was very clearly female. She had said something to herself, going to the side of the bulkhead door and inputting a few commands into what looked to be a holographic display of some kind. Her fingers danced on the holo-display of the device and her actions caused the door to creak, shake and slide to shut itself. It finally closed fully, a deep hiss and three puffs of steam coming off of the centerpoint.

The female alien had, for what it was worth, normal, human-looking legs and wore boots and a white pair of pants that the boy saw were stained with a darker shade of red. She turned around, revealing skin the color of grass in the summer and a pair of small, pearly black eyes. Her head lacked hair, too. Instead, it seemed to be covered by a layer of scales that wrapped around to the chin and neck, outlining a fairly humanoid, female face.

She breathed, plopping herself down and starting to shake. She rubbed her shoulders with her hands, murmuring something to herself in an alien language and a tone of voice that showed distress. Swallowing empty, she picked something off of her belt, popping open a cap and taking a deep, long drink of water. Okay, good news. The alien girl, probably a scientist of some kind, drank water, seemed to have the same color of blood as him and was otherwise fairly humanoid.

... Realizing now that he could properly breathe, that meant she and her crew must've had a similar atmospheric profile to Earth... If not more oxygen rich.

The air did taste of metal, though. Like it was recycled.

He moved back, to give the alien girl some more space and to distance himself in case she was hostile, but found his foot striking another box and moving it off its place. The girl gasped, unclipping the weapon from her belt and aiming, her hands trembling. She shouted something aloud, something he didn't understand, as he ducked back behind the boxes. Again, she shouted, her voice cracking... And once more.

He relented, standing up and raising his hands as he said "Okay, okay, okay! I'm friendly! Look! No guns!" and he wobbled them. She paused, staring at him, her eyes growing wide as saucers, quite literally, as she gave him a once-over. While it was kind of creepy, he was keen to let her stare if it meant he didn't get his noggin shot the hell off... But no, she wouldn't shoot. Her trembling had subsided. She lowered her firearm and seemed positively happy as her gaze turned from his open Cryopod to him.

"... Uuuuh..." He waved, "Hi...? I guess...?"

'Hi, I guess'. Brilliant First Contact game, Jake. Like she even spoke English.

She answered, her voice a bit hoarse, "H-He... Hello..." She raised her hand, making a Vee-shaped greeting with her four and smiling brightly at the boy, like a scientist looking at her newest discovery. Or a kid with a new toy.

Oh. Shit. She spoke English. Or at least knew enough to greet him.

... Wait, where was the Guardian's supposed assistant?