[Epilougue]
“It’s a simple choice!” the woman shrouded in shadows spoke, her voice booming across the battlefield. There was something eerie—almost ethereal—in her tone, like the pull of a magnet. Her body was an impossibly towering mass of dark allure, her figure oozing both dominance and seduction. She stood over hundreds of thousands—if not millions—of lifeless bodies, her presence as imposing as it was intoxicating.
“Heh… yeah, it is simple,” a man replied, his voice soft, barely more than a whisper, as if the words cost him his very breath. His lips were chapped and cracking, a thin trickle of blood trailing down his chin.
“Then make it!” Boom. Crack. Bam. Dark bolts of lightning tore through the sky, casting violent shadows over the desolate land. The woman’s screech reverberated, shattering the eerie silence. The man stood unwavering, his gaze locked onto hers, a history as deep and ancient as the ocean passing between them.
All around them, two armies faced off—a sea of shadows against a wall of golden light. Her forces stood upright, draped in purple and black, their weapons varied as the stars in the sky, but each bore the same blood-red rose on their chests. Fierce and unyielding, they emanated a dark, murderous aura that clashed against the golden army opposing them.
Across the divide, rows of soldiers donned in shining silver and gold armor formed an unbreakable wall, each emblazoned with an ethereal white crest that blazed against the gloom. They stood tall, their collective aura one of unshakable resolve, creating an almost tangible line of pressure between the two sides—a line separating despair from hope, darkness from light.
Fear. Despair. Chaos.
On one side, the cries of anguish, of submission, of terror rang out like a dirge. On the other, shouts of courage, sacrifice, and defiance roared through the air, echoing like the hymn of a forgotten world. A tidal wave of emotion surged, a cacophony of voices struggling for dominance.
A low, rumbling chuckle cut through the chaos. The man’s calm voice rose above the clamor, laced with a quiet strength. “I already have.”
With that, a brilliant golden light exploded from him, driving back the darkness, splitting the universe itself in two. The woman watched him, her fierce golden eyes narrowing, her gaze piercing his very soul. Yet he held steady, a serene calmness in his expression, though beneath the surface, a thousand thoughts churned.
His mind drifted back, tracing the path that had led him here, to this moment. Could it have been different? Was he still himself? Had he chosen the right path?
[Transition to the Mundane]
Bakersfield, CA - 2022
Ca-caw! Ca-caw! Ca-caw!
The incessant crowing of a digital rooster shattered the lingering remnants of the dream. Kain groaned, blindly reaching for his phone as his fingers fumbled across the nightstand. When he finally managed to silence the alarm, he cracked one bleary eye open, only to be greeted by the too-bright glare of the clock: 4:00 a.m.
“Ugh… just a couple more minutes…” he muttered, letting the phone slip back onto the bed.
CCACAW! CACA-WAKE THE FUCK UP! The snooze alarm screamed, accompanied by a digital rooster so loud it could wake the dead. Kain jolted awake, squinting at the screen: 5:45 a.m.
“Ah, shit!” Panic jolted him fully awake, and he threw off the blanket, the surreal dream vanishing like smoke. Sweat clung to his forehead as he stumbled into the hallway, rubbing at the last remnants of sleep in his eyes. He had less than an hour to make it to work. If he was late again, his boss was going to have his head.
As he rushed into the laundry room, he yanked open the dryer and pulled out his uniform, tossing it over his shoulder. With an unsteady step, he stumbled into the bathroom, throwing his clothes onto the sink. He cranked the shower on, bracing himself for the inevitable pshhhhh of ice-cold water slamming into his skin.
“Sweet mother of turkey!” he yelped, his voice echoing in the empty house. He shivered under the freezing spray, barely resisting the urge to jump back out. After a moment, the water warmed, and he let out a sigh of relief, tilting his head back and letting the water wash away the remnants of his dream.
By the time he finished, he felt more alive. He dried off, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. A thirty-something Latino guy with a dad bod and a scruffy beard stared back, his hair sticking out at odd angles. Around his neck hung a stone necklace, an heirloom passed down from his father and his father before him. The stone was an unusual mix of baby blue and stormy purple, and as he stared at it, he could have sworn it shimmered.
“Still here, huh?” he muttered to himself with a smirk, his fingers brushing over the stone.
He tossed on his boxers, uniform, and steel-toe boots, grabbed his backpack and wallet, and made his way through the quiet house. As he stepped outside, the crisp morning air hit him, a familiar scent of dew and freshly cut grass filling his lungs. He took a moment to appreciate it, then walked over to his van, an old white Ford Ecoline he’d customized into a mini fortress.
Vroom. The van rumbled to life, and Kain pulled out of the driveway, setting out for another long day of deliveries. As he drove, his mind wandered back to the strange dream, the woman with golden eyes, the armies, the apocalyptic battlefield. He couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow, it all meant something. But then, as his old friend Jimbo used to say, “Every journey starts with a first step—usually right into a big ol’ pile of crap.”
Kain chuckled, shaking his head, and pushed the thought away. Whatever lay ahead, today was just another day. Another day in the life of Kain—the man with a knack for trouble, a lucky charm around his neck, and a date with destiny he didn’t yet know was coming.