Sins of the Father - Prologue

Pale silver eyes swept across the horizon, calculating and appraising the situation. His manner was calm and cool as usual. To an ordinary man, the sort of event he was experiencing would cause paralyzing fear, but this man simply waited, his long, silvery-white hair blowing gently behind him, eyes coldly fixed on the horizon. He watched the destruction around him with no more interest than he would give any other subject. It did not surprise him, for he had known it for a long time; this only proved it. It was over. The ground beneath his feet cracked and shook. He levitated to avoid being swallowed up. He knew it was but a matter of time before the darkness consumed him and the remaining few survivors, but instinct had taken over his usually calm manner. He was, admittedly, scared. Not of dying, for that was inevitable for all, but for the gruesome way by which he knew he would soon be taken.

A maelstrom of fire and magma raged around him. A few people fell into the crevice forming suddenly beneath them. The people living there had been aware for years that destruction was imminent. He almost envied the ones who died from the initial disaster, or those who perished from the famine and deadly perpetual winter that followed. They did not have to witness the end of the civilization.

With white and deep purple robes swirling around him, he landed on a remaining rock, resigned to his doom. It was over. Nothing more could be done. He watched the capsule in the sky, praying for its safe arrival, praying for the chance that somewhere, somehow, they would live on.

He closed his eyes as a cloud of ash showered him, followed by a burst of flame. He didn't cry out, only silently waited for his life to drain away. This was the end. Titus was no more.