(Darkness. It's both comfortable and disconcerting. It's been a part of me since I was born into it. Thrust into a world of viscous, inky blackness. Escaping that dimension did little to separate me from its grasp. Now the abyss resides within. I've struggled to fill this void within my chest. With every violent act, each drop of blood, I thought I was re-claiming the pieces of my tattered soul. Instead I found that I was slowly shedding the remnants of my humanity. I've truly fallen. I've become my parents. A monster. The more sinister part of my psyche celebrates this most vigorously. The lighter aspect of my heart weeps over the loss as if it were a dying child. And maybe it is.

Will this internal conflict ever reach its conclusion? Do I want it to? I remain stoic on the surface as my insides rage to release the monster within. My need for a clear head outweighs my desire to vent my frustration through acts of violence. The ominous lack of moonlight tells me the violence I so crave will come all too soon. I stand in the shadow of a deteriorating apartment building in Moscow. I hate this city, yet I find myself feeling so at home in it. There's a coldness to its buildings and roads. It's not an effect brought on by the architecture, but rather the rampant apathy displayed by the inhabitants. I've been waiting in this same spot for over an hour now. He'll be here soon. Then I'll have my answers.)

(An older gentleman wearing a white suit with a black tie enters his apartment building. His long, gray hair is tied back neatly. His beard is well groomed. A cane, that looks as if it were carved out of marble, helps steady his slow moving form. Reaching his door on the fourth floor he quickly unlocks it. Pausing for a moment, he looks around. After several seconds he's able to shake off the paranoid notion that he isn't alone. Making his way inside he shuts the door behind him. Suddenly he's spun around and slammed against the door with force. The slender fingers that clutch his throat reveal a remarkable strength as they lift him off his feet and firmly press him against the wooden door. He gasps as a face emerges from the darkness in front of him. Harsh, blue eyes glar at him from the face of an attractive young woman. Her brown hair is hastily tied back while her smooth, light features seem to blend in with the lack of light rather than contrasting. His eyes flicker with recognition of the woman who holds him firmly in her clutches. So Eclipse showed up after all. Her voice carries a hardened, authorative tone as she speaks to him quietly.)

Eclipse: Noah Prophet...Who are you, and what do you want with me?

(He struggles to force a smile to his face in reaction to her words.)

Prophet: I was hoping you would come.

(She slams him against the door again. Her body slowly begins to tremble. Noah can feel her instability as the room fills with malevolent, palpable tension.)

Answer me!

(A chuckle escapes his lips before she cuts off his air in anger. After a moment she allows him to breathe again. At first he chokes, but soon the coughing becomes an amused chuckle again.)

Stop it!

(It's now that he realizes how much she'd been restraining. The feeble control she has of herself is quickly dissolving. Her blue eyes becomes crazed before visibly darkening in shade. The tension in the room becomes suffocating as her rage becomes a tangible force. A snarling growl escapes her lips before transforming into a throaty scream of passionate frustration. Still, she barely holds her restraint. Even one misinterpreted action and she'll snap. Her grip tightens. The pressure against the vertibrae in his neck is excrutiating. Slowly he lifts his arms up and motions his surrender. Without warning she tosses him like a rag doll. Colliding with a set of shelves he lands in a heap among a pile of debris that was once the shelves and their contents. Rolling to his hands and knees he coughs violently as air fills his lungs once more. She steps towards him, awaiting the answers she seeks. Just as he's about to speak the door opens behind her. The room is flooding with the dim light from the hallway. Eclipse turns in reaction, prepared to fight if the opportunity arises. A red-haired woman in a long, gray coat steps in. An odd smile plays across her lips as she looks at the two of them.)

Woman: Guess I'm late. So, someone wanna tell me what the fuck this is all about?

(The woman looks over and flips a light switch before shutting the door. Noah grabs his cane and slowly rises to his feet with a smile.)

So you both made it. Eclipse, meet Summer Ashton.

(So I walk in on this crazy old man getting his ass handed to him by this psycho bitch I've seen on TV. OWF and History Channel are about the only things I bother to watch. Both are full of combat and blood. My kinda scene. So he introduces Eclipse to me and plops his fossilized ass into the oldest recliner I've ever seen. The geezer's name is supposedly Noah Prophet. His parents must have hated him. Not that I can fault 'em for it. I hate him already too. He left me some cryptic message to meet him here. I only figured out the damn riddle yesterday. Now here I am in Mother Russia. The home of my favorite booze, vodka. Speaking of which, I pull a fifth out of my coat and gulp down a good portion. Tastes like paint thinner. God that's good. Up till now it's been a real peaceful vacation. No Vivian getting on me about drinking all day. Or bugging me to feel something for people. Or telling me not to answer the door naked, holding a knife, when the mormons come knocking. Okay things are too quiet. Where's my answers old man?)

Summer: So are you going to talk or do I get to hit you too?

(Truthfully I'm hoping I get to hit him. Come on, a gal's gotta get some kicks in life. Unfortunately he starts talking instead. I knew I shouldn't have given him a choice. So he goes on. Blah, blah, blah. Purpose. Life. People. I tune him out for a moment and light a generic menthol. I can't help it. This guy really likes to hear his own voice. I take another deep swig and end up spitting it all over him when his last sentence ends with:)

You two are going to be heroes.

(That Eclipse chick looks both angry and puzzles. Me, well I can't stop laughing. I manage to catch my breath and reply. It's not easy though.)

That's it. Grandpa's gone senile. Time to put you in a home Pops.

(He, of course, starts to protest. I don't really listen. It's not my fault. He's like old and stuff. I don't wait for him to finish. He's wasting precious seconds of my life. I could be using that time to drink and pick on Viv.)

You have the wrong woman. I'm no hero. Never will be.

(Eclipse doesn't bother to speak. I can feel her anger pressing against me like a warm blanket. Part of my slightly cringes in reaction, but it fades almost before I know it's there. I don't fear people. I loathe that they exist. Even so, she's one freaky bitch. He tries to reassure us he's serious.)

Look, I don't give a fuck if this whole world burns along with everyone in it. Hell, I hope it does.

(He chuckles. Damn he's annoying. Remind me to take him off my christmas card list this year. Eclipse steps forward, but his next words stop us both.)

Maybe these names will help you understand: Ruen. Exa Cution. Ring any bells?

(I don't know who the fuck Ruen is, but it's obvious Eclipse does. Exa, on the other hand, should have been in a fucking bag years ago. I own that whiny slut more pain. She hasn't finished paying for cutting off Viv's ear. This time when I face her I'll finish the job. Looks like the old man said the magic words. Guess I don't get to hit him after all. Damn.)

I'm in.