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Prologue & Chapter 1

Prologue

There is a time when all things must end.

Despite this inevitable truth, mortals have sought ways to circumvent the end throughout eternity. Some find solace in religions that promised life after death as a reward for faith; others chase tales of eternal life. Just the same, the end comes for them all. Only mortals that leave their marks on their world ever truly transcend death as they live on in mortal memory for ages after their passing.

Yet mortals are not alone in this fate. Even the worlds themselves fall to ruin with time, only to be reborn anew. However, not all worlds can complete the cycle of rebirth. Some suffer such devastation that their very cores collapse leaving them beyond repair by natural means. These worlds are sent to a special place called Fracture where broken things go to be made whole.

In this purgatory of worlds, the Celestials reign supreme as immortal beings charged with overseeing the repair of broken worlds and guiding the lost souls that survive the death of their world. Sadly, few Celestials care to honor their charge. Greed, power struggles, and vice have overtaken their ranks while the worlds rot and the mortals suffer at the hands of the very beings meant to protect them.

In time, Fracture became a playground for all manner of creatures and beings. Under the rule of the Celestials, only the strong and cunning enjoy any measure of comfort. The rest are consigned to slavery, poverty, or worse. Some of these unfortunate souls attempt to rise up against their unfair fates but their rebellion is short-lived under the iron-clad power of the Celestials.

This is the tale of one such man — broken by failure and haunted by loss. He trudges through life trying to forget his past, unaware that his story is one even the Celestials will remember.

Chapter 1: Welcome

He fell for an eternity through an abyss of shifting fog and dancing shadows. For a time, he drifted in and out of consciousness. It felt like a dream; a phantom of reality that he struggled to grasp. Each time he woke, a question formed in his mind.

Where am I?

Who am I?

Is any of this real or not?

Eventually, he stopped losing consciousness and the space around him became more defined— the shadows gained clarity and the fog became less ephemeral. Then, he saw something new.

Scores of shooting lights plummeted past him during his descent. There was almost no pattern to them, neither in number nor frequency, but they always fell in clusters. Some shone like stars while others barely shed enough light to pierce the gloom of the abyss. He spent most of his time after their appearance wondering what the lights were.

Maybe they’re like me? Can they see me? Am I just another falling light? These thoughts and others filled his mind until a whisper echoed from below. It carried a single word that stopped time and changed his surroundings.

“Jack.”

The lights froze in their downward paths becoming fixtures that dotted the darkness. His descent slowed to a crawl and his perception changed so that he could see into the darkness below him. Before his eyes, a circle of glass shattered into existence. Each piece reflected the illumination of the frozen lights as they pieced themselves together in a solid surface. Colors washed into the glass painting it with lines and shapes that became faces and places— all unfamiliar to him. The platform of stained glass grew closer and closer until, finally, he stopped falling.

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He landed like a feather making barely a sound. He stood there stunned for a long moment. He wasn’t sure what to do. He’d been falling for so long that the sudden change made him question his reality once more. In a haze, he walked the perimeter of the platform and glanced at the mosaics in the glass. He made two trips around the circle before his heart tightened in his chest as a sudden feeling of loss filled him. The people and places teetered on the edge of the familiar and unfamiliar like a scattered dream or a far-off memory.

A voice penetrated the gloom and tore his concentration away from the colored surface.

“It took you long enough.”

A figure walked onto the platform from the fog and shadow. Its features were indistinct and the light failed to illuminate making it like a silhouette given life. For some reason, the figure seemed familiar to him, even more so than the images in the glass. They approached each other meeting in the middle of the platform where the mosaic depicted a throne enclosed within a golden sphere.

“Who are you?” he asked the figure. It watched him for a moment. Though he couldn’t see its eyes clearly, he could tell it was searching for something. It frowned.

“You don’t remember then?” it asked, somehow making the words sound like both a question and a declaration.

“Remember what?” he asked. His thoughts turned to the word that had brought him here. “Does it have to do with Jack?”

A chuckle like a wave of shadows and fog emerged from the figure. It was frightening from what he could tell but he felt nothing except confusion. The living silhouette brought a hand to its forehead in exasperation.

“It certainly does,” it said. Pointing at him, it continued with a tone of fondness and amusement, “You are Jack, my forgetful friend.”

It was Jack’s turn to frown. He suddenly became aware of something very important. He was missing something. It was like waking up to realize he was missing a limb. Another sudden feeling welled up inside him— desperation. He needed to find that missing piece.

“If I’m Jack, then who are you?” Jack asked again, not forgetting the figure hadn’t answered the first time.

It waved a hand dismissively at his question. “If you do not remember, then I cannot tell you. For now, you may call me The World Keeper or W, for short.” W’s voice was tinged with a mix of the faint echoes of sadness masked by levity which only increased Jack’s confusion.

“I don’t understand. You must care about my memory because I hear the sadness in your voice. You called me friend. Why not help me remember?!” The more he spoke, the more charged with emotion his words became until he sounded as distressed as he felt.

“As I said, I cannot,” W said, frowning.

“But why?!” he asked. His frustration caused him to raise his voice as the hole left by his missing piece ached once more.

“Because I promised you I wouldn’t.” W’s soft voice caught on the fog and shadows around them like a whisper in the wind echoing far beyond the platform.

Jack froze, mind and body, for a moment. Something deep inside him pulsed and he knew W was telling the truth. Why would I say that? Doubt filled his heart once more, yet this time, he doubted himself. Who am I? The thought turned and twisted in his mind again and again.

W watched him in silence. Then, a chime echoed from above. In all his time falling, Jack had never heard the sound. His looked up in surprise and peered into the gloom. He saw nothing, but the gloom seemed somehow heavier than it’d been a moment earlier.

The World Keeper shook its head and said, “So it’s started then. I suppose it is time we parted ways.”

“What's started?” Jack asked; however, W turned and began walking away. Jack took a step forward reaching out a hand to stop the figure. “Wait! I still have questions!” His hand almost touched W’s shoulder before the glass beneath his feet shattered sending him plummeting downward once more. He screamed at the figure though his words were swallowed by the gloom. The broken pieces of the platform splintered into luminous motes that shot down to encompass him in a sphere of light. He lost sight of W just as a whisper carried through the shadow and fog.

“Enjoy yourself, Jack. Once you remember my name, we will speak again. I hope that time comes before it’s all over.”

The words settled over Jack like the lullaby and his consciousness began to slip. On the edge of oblivion, he heard another voice, cold and mechanical.

[Welcome to Fracture]

Before he could question what that meant, he slipped into darkness carried by a falling star.

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