This is a prologue only, not Chapter 1, which follows immediately after. It is not required to understand the rest of the book. This prologue only sets the stage by showing the reader a scene near the end of the story, with the main story itself showing what has led up to this moment.  

--.--.329

exact date unknown

This close to the heart of the Netherworld, nothing was visible. The ever-raging dust storms grew more powerful the deeper you went, and the roaming predators only got larger and larger. If your eyes could somehow pierce the heavy dust clouds and look up to the sky above, all you would see was pitch-black darkness. No sun, no moon, no stars.

For Scott, however, the lack of light wasn't the problem-it was the dust. He wore custom goggles and a protective mask that helped shield his face from the storm, but even they didn't allow him to see much further than a few feet at a time. The wind threw itself against him, whipping his clothes as if trying to push him away, and the dust that came with it was getting into his clothes and shoes. A rope, wrapped around his waist, connected him to his fellow team members and an artificial dragon, trailing behind him in single file. In the distance, a massive shadow seemed to shift through the dust, shaking the ground with rumbling steps, but it turned around at the last second, discouraged by Scott's Fragment.

"We're close."

Scott looked up, focusing his goggles.

"I can't see anything," he said, his voice muffled by his mask. "How can you be sure?"

Nyra didn't answer him, but the Fragment began to glow brighter in Scott's hand. Halting in his tracks, he held up one arm to shield himself against the winds and held up the device in his other hand. Waving the Fragment back and forth, he noted the pulses in its light.

"Nyra is right," he called. "The power core says we're almost there. Everyone gather around. I'm going to cut us a path straight through."

His group gathered around him slowly, stumbling and feeling their way blindly toward him until they had their hands on his shoulders. When he was sure everyone was close, he raised the Fragment and concentrated on the power inside, focusing all his efforts into bending the device to his will.

Around his team, the dust storm suddenly receded, drawing back bit by bit as the Fragment forced the powerful winds around them in a wedge. As the winds parted, Scott thought he could see something just beyond the dust, a strange city of sorts. The darkness retreated with the dust, glimmers of dim light creeping through for the first time in hours. Hours? Or had it been days? He couldn't tell; time passed differently in the Netherworld.

His group staggered forward, guided by the Fragment as they stumbled out of the storms and into a clear and quiet night. Behind them was a wall of dust, thick and constantly moving, but contained as if something was holding the storm away from this place. The constant roaring of the dust storm had vanished as soon as they'd left it, leaving them standing in eerie silence.

"Woah," Tyrus gasped, lifting his visor. "What the hell is that?"

Scott dropped the power core back onto his belt and raised his head wearily, following Tyrus's gaze.

The city he thought he'd seen back in the dust storm was now standing before him, fully visible in the dim night light. Strange glowing multicolored stones were everywhere, making up the sidewalks and the roads. Their combined light shrouded the city in an aurora of colors, shimmering and dancing softly. Scott glanced around, eyeing the parts of the city closest to him.

"We're here," he said, noting a nearby house.

Despite the lively design of the city, the house stood dark and empty, the door slightly ajar.

"It's abandoned," he growled. "We came all this way, and just look around. This city is abandoned. We've wasted our time."

"No."

Scott turned to look at his third and final teammate, Delilah. She hardly ever spoke, but when she did, everyone listened. She took a step forward, resting one gloved hand on his shoulder.

"Montu pointed us here," she said. "We should check the city out before we decide this isn't worth it."

"Del is right," Nyra said, stepping into his peripheral vision. Her dragon, a Saturnian breed, prowled around her legs, rubbing its neck against her calf. "This city may seem abandoned, but that doesn't mean there's nothing to find. Let's at least have a look around."

Nyra took a step forward and glanced back at him, the strange lights playing across her face. The time spent in the Netherworld had changed her. Scott could see more reptilian features in her face: the yellow eyes, sharpened front teeth, and the horns sprouting from her cheekbones. That hadn't been there before.

"Nyra," Scott gasped. "You...you're changing."

The woman shrugged.

"My bond is stronger, here in the Netherworld," she said, rubbing a finger under her dragon's chin. "All Psychic abilities are. I'll be fine."

Scott looked down at the Fragment on his belt, now glowing as bright as a small star. It seemed so harmless, almost like a child's toy.

He glanced at his party, which was gathered around him expectantly. Delilah, decked in scarred gunmetal gray Esclavian ballistic armor, nodded at him encouragingly.

"Alright," he said. "Tyrus, take point. Nyra, Delilah, flank him. I'll cover our rear."

"What for?" Tyrus asked. "City's abandoned, like you said."

"Can't be too careful," Scott muttered.

Tyrus shrugged and turned around, drawing his oscillating mace. The rest fell in behind him as they slowly began to make their way into the city. The moment they set foot onto the stones, they brightened beneath their feet, casting a halo of light around them. As they traveled deeper into the heart of the Netherworld, the group held a tight formation, warily eyeing the abandoned houses and buildings around them. There was no dust or decay, but somehow, the perfectly preserved civilization and dead quiet made it that much more surreal.

Artfully curated shrubs and trees surrounded each empty home, foreign plants that belonged to another world. Their leaves glowed with the same unearthly light as the stones of the street, and their branches waved in slow motion, bending to a breeze that couldn't be felt. An occasional discarded rifle lay on the floor, and some stones bore strange darkened streaks, like scorch marks. Even through the dim light of the stones, the shapes of the buildings were clearly visible, like rolling hills or cascading waves. As the group made their way deeper into the city, the homes lining the street started to take on a pattern, each house eerily identical to its neighbors down to the last brick.

"Guys," Tyrus said uneasily. "Does anyone else feel like we're being watched?"

Nyra shook her head.

"I'm not picking up anyone," she said. "At least, I can't smell or hear anyone."

"I'm serious," Tyrus insisted. "I can feel eyes watching us. I think...I think something still lives here. Maybe this thing is what drove this city to abandon itself."

"Then tighten up," Scott commanded. "If Tyrus is right, we don't want to be caught off guard."

As he walked, he exhaled deeply, beginning the familiar exercise of emptying his mind, releasing all emotion and thought until his mind was a blank slate, an empty void. Almost immediately, he felt the power within spring to life and blue flame engulfed his body, swirling like real flames did but never giving heat. Psychic fire.

"Huh," Scott noted. The blue fire was new; usually his aura was red. Nyra was right. Psychic powers were stronger here. And different.

Suddenly, he could feel it-a powerful presence pressing against his Psychic barrier, nearly crushing it and overwhelming him. The sheer density and dexterity of the attack was unlike anything he'd ever seen, almost as if...

"Entity!" Scott shouted. "It's been reading our minds; prepare for an ambush!"

Before he could finish his sentence, the ground before him exploded, splitting as if hell itself was tearing the street apart. A shockwave rippled out from the crack, slamming into Scott and his teammates. His Psychic barrier took the brunt of the blast but he was still thrown backwards into Nyra, both of them hitting the ground hard. Rolling with the impact, he made it back onto his feet, coming back up without his aura. His concentration had cracked and his protective aura had failed.

Immediately, the Psychic presence flooded his mind, filling his vision with stars and blotting out his thoughts. He froze in place, not daring to move a muscle as he threw all his energy into fighting back, but whatever the entity was, it was too powerful. Every time he attempted to summon the void, it cut down his attempts and drove itself deeper into his head. He was fighting a losing battle.

Sounds from outside came to him, sounding muted as if he were underwater. Fire swept through the street, and Scott was vaguely aware of Nyra taking flight. The crackle of ion discharges came from somewhere to the side as Delilah engaged a foe in combat, but Scott was powerless to help. As the entity forced itself deeper into his mind, he shut his eyes, trying again and again to bring back the void. He thought he could hear the clank of armored boots filing in around him and his team, but he couldn't focus enough to move, let alone fight back. Hands closed around his arms, holding him in place with iron grips. More hands came in and disarmed him, removing his weaponry and equipment. When the last of his weapons were confiscated, Scott gasped, feeling the entity ease up in his mind. His vision cleared, revealing a tall, armored form reaching down to remove something from Scott's belt. The Fragment.

"No..." Scott murmured, struggling to bring his Psychic fire to bear.

His flame sparked in his hand once, then flickered out. Frowning, he tried calling on his powers again, but the powerful presence quickly returned, this time overwhelming him. He sagged in his captors' arms as the sheer magnitude of the Psychic attack forced him to his knees.

"S-S-Scott," Nyra's voice gasped.

Fighting the presence, Scott twisted his head slowly to look at his team. Each of them was held up like him, propped up between two similar red and black armored soldiers. Even Nyra's dragon seemed immobile, pinned down to the earth as if held under a massive weight. There were almost a dozen guards surrounding them in a tight formation, assembled behind one taller soldier holding Scott's Fragment.

"Give...that...back," Scott spat, struggling to form the words.

The large soldier stepped forward and tipped Scott's chin up, surveying him quickly. Then he turned around and slashed his hand through the air, leaving a blazing white tear in the fabric of the Netherworld. A portal. The soldiers holding up his teammates stepped back, restraining them as Scott was dragged forward, following the large soldier through the portal while his team was left behind.

"N-no...wait," Scott protested weakly, but the soldiers didn't react. They dragged him roughly through the portal, and for a moment, he hung suspended. A dull roar filled his ears and he was blinded by a bright flash of white light, and then he was through.

When Scott emerged, blinking spots out of his eyes, he found himself in a dark corridor littered with cluttered tables, some of them covered with stark white cloths. Somewhere down the corridor, the sounds of a book being perused could be heard clearly amidst the silence.

The soldiers dragged him down the hall toward the sound, passing the cluttered tables. From his awkward slump, Scott could see that most of the tables held pieces of technology, some of it familiar. Swords, generators, engine parts, armor-they all carried a familiar symbol. He squinted at the collection feebly, but his mind was too clouded for him to recognize the insignia.

As the soldiers rounded the corner, they released him, letting Scott crumple to the ground. He groaned as the impact knocked the breath out of him and he lay there for a moment, gathering his strength. Somewhere in front of him, Scott could hear the larger soldier step forward, as if presenting something to his superior. No words were exchanged, but Scott could feel as though a transaction of some sort had passed.

Suddenly, the overwhelming presence was gone, leaving as quickly as it came. Scott pushed himself to his feet immediately, his Psychic fire roaring to life around his body protectively as he sought the void in his mind. He spun around to face the soldiers who had brought him, but they were already retreating, their backs to him. He stared after them, confused, as the larger soldier passed him, lumbering slowly over to a niche in the wall. As he watched, the soldier climbed onto a pedestal, turned around, and froze.

"Astral projection, level five," an unfamiliar voice spoke from behind him.

Scott whirled around again, his Psychic fire flaring in preparation for an attack. Sitting before him was a tall hairless man holding a pair of spectacles in his left hand. He was dressed in a pristine white lab coat that looked like it had never been used, and underneath the laboratory attire, he seemed well-built. Behind his chair was a large tome on a stone desk, the pages held down with glowing paperweights that seemed to be made of the same stone that the city was constructed out of.

"Uh, what?" Scott asked.

"You were marveling at my supposed subordinates," the man said. "Psychic astral projection, level five. You know, the seven power classes: Passive, Elemental, Life, Psychic, Force, Energy, and that new fad, Transference."

"I know the classifications," Scott said quickly. "But those-"

The bald man sighed.

"They're not alive," he said. "I was animating them. Astral projection, level five."

"Oh," Scott muttered.

Since it seemed like he was in no immediate danger, Scott stole a few glances around the room, examining his surroundings. The room was shaped like a dome, with no visible exit from the room. Spheres of soft glowing light drifted aimlessly around, and the cluttered tables of junk Scott had seen earlier were nowhere to be found. With a start, Scott realized that the exit the animated soldiers took was no longer there.

"By the way, your friends are fine," the stranger said. He stood up from his chair and donned his spectacles, walking toward Scott. "Time, from their perspective, has been suspended. You will be returned before they feel a second pass. I simply wanted to talk to you first."

"Don't come any closer," Scott warned, his hands bursting in flame.

"Don't be foolish," the man retorted, waving his hand. Scott's flames died out immediately, sucked away by some invisible force.

"What the-," Scott gasped. "What are you?"

"I am a purple elephant," the bald man said. "What, I don't look like a person to you?"

"I, uh," Scott muttered, unsure of what to say. The man did resemble a human, but somehow, Scott was sure that he was a bit more than just that. A Titan.

"Yes. I am now."

Scott blinked. Had he said that out loud?

"No, you didn't. You didn't need to."

He held up a cup.

"Tea?" the man asked.

Scott blinked, confused. Where had he gotten that from?

"Uh, yes please," he muttered. Taking the cup from the bald man, he sniffed the cup cautiously. It had a strange woody smell, combined with a hint of sweetness.

"Rosewood tea," the bald man said. "I don't know how popular the drink is now, but when I was a boy, my parents drank this stuff all the time."

Scott eyed the man and sipped his drink carefully. Surprisingly, the flavor was rather strong, unlike the powdered variety he normally saw in markets.

"It's good," he commented.

"Of course it is," the man said. "It's an original brew. Do you have a name?"

"Uh, Scott."

"Now, Scott, how did you get here? It's been a while since I've had a conversation with someone other than myself so please, humor me. And be truthful; I will know when you lie."

"I, uh," Scott said, hesitant to answer the strange man. Still, he had a feeling that refusing to answer might not go so well. He tried putting the cup down, only to find that he was no longer holding one to begin with.

"Well, I'm actually more interested in how you reached the center of the Netherworld," the man said. "You carried a Fragment, but not one of our creation. I'm curious to know how you came by it."

The man held up a hand and the Fragment the soldiers had confiscated from Scott materialized there, floating in the space above his palm. Scott resisted the urge to make a dive for it. He was pretty sure that would not be a good idea.

"We made it ourselves," Scott answered, surprising himself with the levelness in his voice. It must have been something in the tea.

The man raised an eyebrow.

"But we had help," Scott added hurriedly. "Someone called Montu. Do you know him?"

The bald man stiffened, a look of shock spreading across his face.

"Montu...?" he asked quietly. "I thought he was dead."

"He helped us make the Fragment," Scott said. "He told me how to use it to reach the center and that I would find what I was looking for when I got here."

"Homemade. That explains the shoddy workmanship," the bald man muttered. "And why did he help you? Out of all the people searching for our secrets, why you?"

"Because he thought I could finish his mission," Scott answered. "This age of Titans is nearly over, and if we don't act now, we're all going to go down with them."

"My, I'm lucky," the man mused. "This conversation is more eloquent than I'd imagined it'd be."

Then, he focused a hawkish gaze on Scott, and as their eyes met, Scott thought he could sense something powerful rippling beneath the surface.

"So tell me," the bald man said. "What reasons do you have for coming to the heart of the Netherworld?"

"The entire world as we know it is about to end; what other reason would I come here for?" Scott demanded.

"I don't know," the man said, holding back a smile. "Why don't you tell me?"

Scott hesitated, wondering what kind of answer the stranger was looking for. The man made a peculiar expression, almost as if he were raising an eyebrow, except he had no eyebrows.

"I'm not sure what you're asking," Scott confessed. "Montu told me that in order to succeed, I needed information. I think...I think he was referring to what the history books left out."

The man nodded, leaning forward.

"Go on," he prompted. "What are you looking for?"

"I-I need more information," Scott said. "I want to know what the Scions really did. I want to know how it all started. I want to know what Trial 017 was all about."

The man chuckled softly.

"But that's not how it all started. History repeats itself, boy. How familiar are you with our ancient history?"

"What?"

"The Great War. Aurora's experiment on Terra. The endgame. Every Titan with enough power to live forever began searching for some means of gathering more power for the final confrontation: a celestial cage match to determine who was worthy to survive the next age."

"What does this have to do with the Scions?" Scott asked.

"I am-or was-the official scribe to the Scions," the man said. "Recorded in my books are accounts of our history from multiple perspectives, all telling the same story. You said you came here seeking knowledge, and the truth about Trial 017."

"Yes, but how did it all start?" Scott demanded. "What happened on Trial 017?"

"We accomplished many great things," the man continued, speaking over Scott. "But sadly, most people remember us as the breakers of your world. From most perspectives that I have recorded, such a belief would be true. But to fully understand what happened, you need to understand why we did what we did. In my mind, the most accomplished account I have belongs to one of our more obscure members, but arguably, the most important."

"Who?" Scott asked.

The man didn't answer. He waved his hand through the air and a globe of light appeared, floating above his hand and casting a strange blue light.

"What is that?" Scott demanded.

"Memories," the man answered. The sphere began to glow brighter, until its light was blinding to look at.

"The answers you seek are in here."

The glow overwhelmed everything, and then, there was darkness.

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