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Chapter 0004 - Prophecy 4

Castle Grave -- Outer Walls -- Main Entrance -- South-West Gates

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The vampire walked past a sign that read, "Bloodsuckers Anonymous", which in hindsight, wasn't a great title for their group. This was supposed to be a covert operation, and if The One were present, all eyes would be hypnotized by him, their minds willing to further obey and complete the assigned tasks, with twice as much intensity as was currently present. The One... an ancient Diety first discovered in the Ordovician ages, when they were first starting to form, around 440 million years prior to this very second in time.

Of course, that doesn't mean that The One is as old as 440 million years ago, just that his kind; the vampires, discovered The One at the time they did. The One, also primarily titled, "Вознесение тьмы", and secondarily titled, "The Darkness Descension (Zejście ciemności)", and then tertiary titled as, "Die Herabkunft der Dunkelheit".

c. 0 seconds (13.799 ± 0.021 Gya; the agreed upon time within which The One founded all matter. The known Omniverse came precisely nine minutes before "c. 0 seconds (13.799 ± 0.021 Gya". This event was also known as "The Cosmic Causality". Despite popular opinions, The One was not malevolent in his nature, rather, frequently disappointed by what should have been ... inexorably loyal minions. They weren't so devoted to the Monthly Movement. The one thing that Harrań had learned from his time being posted here, was that nobody questioned a literal god. Not THE god, no, that title with a capital "G" was reserved for Christians.

The Only Way To All Goals, also called: T.O.W.T.A.G. T.O.W.T.A.G, or just Tow-Tag, was a reflection of The One's followers' collective willpower. Tow-Tag was the Ash-Fade Clan's religion. The Ash-Fade Clan were known specifically for their sharp intellectual prowess, they were admittedly the brightest in terms of mental acuity. Found within the lower ranks of the Order of Eagle, they were specialised in the skill sectors of combat manoeuvres. Their battlefield strategies were unrivalled and frequently pondered by lesser men; dimwits whom could simply not fathom the worst of their abilities, not for the life of them would they ever get close to the Clan's secrets. A warrior's code is not to be uttered by civilian scum.

In Harrań's eyes, the commoners should be thrown out with the rest of the trash, considering that they were just as worthless, and they stunk more or less the same, if not twice as much. Human embodiments of rat-shit they were ... good riddance to the wankers. A whole group of Peasant piss-pots had been spotted last week, Friday, in fact, and they had the NERVES to be standing underneath Craven's Bridge. Let alone to be smoking there, for Plainbloods to be stinking up the area with incessant chatter, it was bad enough.

He wondered how Uncle Mark would feel, with regards to the Clan's troubles this past month, he needed to outsource advice, instead of letting biased lips speak to even further biased ears. The only words worth hearing right now would be those of family members. Mark Hastyr, Harrań's uncle, and strangely enough they shared a surname as well as two middle names.

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He wondered which side he fell upon, the Bloodsuckers... Or... The Moonbearers?

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Charley Dunne was currently flying through the ceiling with intense momentum, suspended in a two second freefall before gravity released her potent grip on his slender, sullen body. He was feeling bitter about the present circumstances of the fight, because he was losing. And Charley knew that he was a winner. He'd come out victorious this day. As he landed, the young adult male pulled his elbows into his six-pack stomach. Then, he waited. As soon as he saw the superior Moonbearer crash through the wall, he thrust both palms toward the hole that remained in the bricks. He hit his target and soon saw his brother, Manuel Fell, flying through the air from the force of the unexpected Telekinesis.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Charley pounced from the end of the Fell Mansion to the edges of the forest of Castle Grave, passing the middle point connecting the two locations; Flintfell Fountain. A quick static-sounding flood of water passed his eardrums as he aimed a perfectly delivered Aú Aberto kick in mid-jump, somersaulting thrice, before landing into a Queda de Quatro, further pushing his own blood brother into the dirt and grass. He flipped over a misplaced kick, grabbing Manny's left leg and pulling his whole lower body into an Escorpião kick. He shifted his body weight, slamming both of his shoulders onto his older brother's right ribcage.

"GAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH' Charley slammed Manuel's windpipe into his kneecap, and he placed both hands on his head, one on the back of his neck, and the other hand cupping his jaw with a warm palm. He pushed his right knee while simultaneously snapping Manny's head off of his body. He placed his tongue to the stump and sucked the blood dry, before chucking the head of his deceased relative into the ditch, which was dug out of the ground nine meters diagonally behind him. The head landed and rolled, and then Charley grabbed the broken shovel pieces on the floor, quickly meshing them together and re-fitting them, the shovel being repaired. He turned, expecting to find nothing but clear patches of soil, mud, and scarce patches of crops on the earth beneath his feet. Instead, he immediately received a face full of gray ash clouds and black smoke. He supressed a single splutter, salt-flavoured saliva threatening to give away his presence as he rushed to a hiding spot behind a Black Root Oak Tree. All efforts would slowly end up being rendered almost futile, though, as the young adult male found himself being ambushed from the side of the tree that he had his pack towards.

Fitch the Spellcaster launched Zooper at Charley, who furiously swatted the rabbit away with a mighty kick of his boots. As he drew his legs back from the tightly compacted blow, the once much younger boy tucked his knees underneath his pecs, lining up the crouch. As soon as the older man even so much as twitched a finger muscle, Charley launched with his full Mach 1 speed into the Mage, completely stripping his flesh from his bones, as the shockwaves from the force and utter impacts pushed back treetops and brown stumps, getting dangerously close to snapping off from the soils they were so densely rooted beneath and inside of.

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THE PROPHECY

A man dressed from head to toe with all white clothing gripping his legs and arms. A man dressed from head to toe with all black clothing gripping his legs and arms. The two antithesis beings shuffled to face each others' torsos, their eyelines matching up and becoming levelled, silver glitter balls staring straight through golden glitter balls. The Acidisium Ore, forged and shaped into eyeballs, functioned just as intended. As both deities faced their respective podiums, they howled with guttural-sounding wrath.

"Garanmou"

"Bishyxna"

Two more gods spoke their names, and white archways boom'ed and fwoosh'ed, lights that are instantly blinding to humans appeared from the empty spaces. The beings blinked, and they saw a pair within the respective lights then; in that very attosecond, two new universes had been manifested from godlike powers, the existences of both universes stemming from their eyes closing and opening.

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END OF:

THE PROPHECY

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