What color is Chaos? Questions like this are normal as my mind wanders when I am supposed to be focused but can you blame me? Being stuck on 24-hour desk duty in the barracks, 48 hours past when you were supposed to be relieved, is boring. Well, maybe unless some id10t tried to bring a hooker in again. Though I wouldn't say that's any better, to be honest.
Where are my manners? I must apologize. My name is Bianca Custar. . . Or is it Natalie, Lyras's Daughter?... No wait, that's it, in this current incarnation you can call me Irene. . .Sergeant Irene Marsden. So if you haven't guessed, I have lived a few lives now. I will say that while this life is my favorite so far, I tend to forget which name is my current name when I have been up for more than 3 days straight.
Anyways, this is an. . ."Marsden!" I heard over the clamoring of my own thoughts. I turned, and marching towards me very fast was a very pissed-off tall, overweight man, Sargeant First Class Landon Pickers (we call him 'bickers' behind his back.), my former NCO. No idea why he's coming at me but oh well. The only other times I have seen him move this fast is to get in line for the DFAC on 'steak' night, or when backpedaling after an officer blames him for something that was, in all honesty, his fault anyways. But, that's a story for another time. This is an Origin story.
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Light. Silence. Blood. A woman in magenta armor, surrounded by dead bodies and broken skyscrapers stood, holding dual obsidian black one-handed arming swords coated with blood. The sun rose behind her, giving her sapphire blue hair an almost ethereal look through the smog of war. Standing before her, coated in the blood of his comrades, was the last survivor. He had watched her slaughter all of his people for a crime so horrid, so depraved, the gods above had no choice but to send her. He glared and began to speak, his almost whisper of a voice resounding loudly in the silence around them. "DEMON! The Supreme one will judge you for your genocide!"
(ST/N: I will not be describing his species as I was ordered not to by the gods themselves)
Her emerald green eyes narrowed in disgust, then she spoke, voice soft as downy feathers, yet cold as a viper's venom, "I am not a demon, Evil one."
He sneered but said nothing, raised a long, black, sludge-dripping scimitar, and charged. Her swords screamed through the air, almost invisible to the human eye, as she parried, stabbed, and danced out of his reach. Two snow-white, metallic wings moved behind her throwing feathers like darts, that he was forced to dodge, ducking behind rubble scattered around the battlefield.
Decades passed.
Both combatants looked worse for wear, though the woman was worse off as she had lost her wings somewhere around year 56 and as such was having trouble keeping up with her enemy.
"You have lost demon!" said the man, "Give up and let me kill you. The Supreme one will rejoice with your soul to sustain him for many years."
With a haggard breath, the woman said nothing and lunged.
"What a pity." sighed the man, before stabbing the woman in her heart.
She stumbled and fell to one knee, her swords falling to the ground beside her.
"This is for my people, it's too bad though. Your soul will merely fade into nothing," he said before ripping the scimitar out of her body. He watched her fall to the ground, before disappearing.
Blood soaked the ground beneath her as she silently vowed to existence itself she would hunt him down and destroy him if she survived. Her eyes closed as darkness fell.
CRACK! A split in space appeared not ten meters away from the woman. Out of this split, walked a man, 205 centimeters in height with fiery red hair, deep green eyes, and pure golden wings. Behind him, the split closed with a SNAP. He looked around before his eyes lit upon the broken woman laying in a pool of her own blood. Soon, a second split appeared and another man stepped out, almost 244 centimeters tall, with shining silver eyes. This man had no wings, yet exuded an air of almost absolute power behind his kindly eyes, and bright black hair.
"Father," the first man said as he pointed at the woman, "she is there. Are you sure this is wise? She is not ready."
Father looked at the woman, sighed, then said, "Unfortunately, Mark, the eater of worlds does not care who is ready and who is not. She must become strong enough to work as your second, soon, or existence will fall to chaos for much longer than normal."
Mark pondered Father's words before nodding. "It will take several centuries, possibly more, to get her ready."
"That is to be expected. She must learn to value only the Veil."
Mark approached the woman and leaned over her. With his hand on her forehead, he called out to her. "Angel of Ruin, awaken and stand."
Her eyes opened, though they appeared lifeless. Standing, she looked around her at the rubble and dust, reaffirming her vow to existence once more. Mark stared at her for a few moments then spoke.
"Do you wish to protect others?"
"I do," she said, her voice quiet and strained.
"Will you cast aside all connections and swear allegiance to the Veil?"
"I will,"
"Then take a knee"
The angel knelt and lowered her head.
"Give your Oath"
No words were spoken, an Oath was given, and the sun set behind the rubble illuminating her new Raven black metallic wings.
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". . .I will get you reduced down to a fuzzy for this! And another. . ." I tuned out Pickers as he continued to yell at me for. . .something. He has blamed me for everything he can get away with, even if proven wrong, to such a degree that now most of our commanders come to me for any problem they might have.
I turned to him after nearly forty minutes of his rant and finally spoke, "Pickers! Shut up. You no longer have the authority to do anything to me and I am done letting you shout at me when I haven't even slept in three days because my relief decided to disappear for some flipping reason!" I know I shouldn't have shouted but, yeah.
Pickers stood there, mouth agape before a smile crept up his face.
"Do you really think they "decided" to disappear?" he asked his smile getting wider, "No. They didn't arrive simply because I told them not to."
I stared at him, while a devilish smile appeared on my own face. "And do you really think no one but me is around to hear that?"
At that precise moment, an MP stepped out of the bathroom.