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(I know the preview image is weird, the computer wouldn't let me use the document as a preview image for some reason -______________- , so that's why the whole document is gonna be in the description...)

When the destiny of one becomes undone,
The fate of everyone becomes uncertain
- Humility

~
Prologue
On that Halloween night, the fateful night deemed the apocalypse of joyful existence, there were three important events that happened only minutes apart from each other, all of which I was involved in. And all of which are my fault. Or just partly my fault. Or mostly my fault. It really depends on the event.
I may be stating this calmly, but I am not proud of what I’ve done. Not in the least. But, I’ve heard some dear friends of mine admit, my mistakes make for one hell of a story.
Event A
“Where has all this rain come from?!”
That question, posed by a young, bewildered reporter named Rebecca, was a very important question that no one in New York City could answer.
The streets were flooded. No, beyond flooded. The streets had been flooded for 9 months since, with continuous rain pouring 7 days a week, 24 hours every day.
The New Yorkers had become a nomadic tribe. They had to abandon their homes and move into office buildings on the floors that were still above water. A family was living in every cubicle. Uncomfortably, but dry, at least. They littered the office carpets with their mattress pads and sleeping bags and kept their belongings in the office desks under lock and key. They never could get any peace and quiet, with so many other people living in the same buildings.
As the water grew higher still, the New Yorkers migrated to the office floors still above water. When no empty cubicles could be found, they searched for any other buildings that had space and dryness to offer.
No one traveled by car anymore, and certainly not by subway. After 3 months of straight rain, every family in New York owned a boat that they used to get from one place to another. No one ever left home without their anchor and life preservers. After 6 months, some people bought boats big enough to live on.
The water itself was a sight to behold. After most days, the depth would grow by half a foot, and on some really bad days, the height could increase as much as FIVE feet. Once 5 months had passed, the water was 300 feet deep. After 9 months, the depth was 800 feet.
In most cases, a sustained depth of 800 feet of water in a whole city would break the laws of physics. Well, the good news is global warming hasn’t hit NYC quite so badly yet. The bad news: something else entirely has. Something that doesn’t follow the laws of physics…
Meanwhile, a 13-year-old girl in a polka-dot headscarf was trying to search for that something.
“Hey, look!” Inhab shouted.
No one looked. Everyone in New York City was preoccupied looking for that same something. Inhab was currently not aware of their mission, and just how wrong they were.
“Look!” She repeated, her voice making ripples in the water she was boating on. “A mortal is floating around in the water, out in the open! All alone! Just waiting for disaster!”
Inhab was using a poor means of acting and baiting to lure the diabolical woman who had started it all to her.
“Can’t you see me?” Inhab yelled, becoming more and more exasperated, “I’m right here!”
“I see you,” An unfamiliar male voice said. I said.
A simultaneous flash of thunder and lightning shook her boat and made her slip and fall.
“Umfff!” Inhab landed flat on her back and banged her elbows. She moaned as a searing pain rang through her bones.
“Allow me,” I interjected.
My dark-skinned hand with many scars on it, some of them open and bleeding, reached out to Inhab and waited for her to react.
After living in a big city all her life, Inhab knew not to randomly grab strange mens hands, even as she was injured. But considering the circumstances, all laws were out of question, including simple safety ones like that.
Inhab grabbed the strange hand and let it pull her upright.
By the way, I normally wouldn’t call my own hand strange, but I’ve been starting to lose a sense a self ever since that red-head and his little brother got me into so much trouble.
As soon as Inhab was on her feet, I knew she was judging me. I don’t think she was expecting a chaos angel with miss-matched glasses to be an aid to her. We look very shifty, to tell you the truth. Our wings are black like soot and full of tatters like old sheets. The rest of our clothing, however, tends to be in bright colors and full of patterns and patchwork. We also have a special accessory that Satainia uses to tell us apart, (she isn’t particularly good with names… most names, I should say). My friend Jeremy, another chaos angel, has dyed his blonde hair with blue and green stripes. Another friend of mine, Zoe, wears a court jesters hat on her head with bells on it that jingle with her every move. I happen to have glasses with miss-matched lenses. The right one is a thin-rimmed oval and the left one is a bulky rectangle.
A look of shock came upon Inhabs face, but soon enough, she got her words together and knew what to ask me.
“Where is she?” The mortal girl demanded.
Her voice was full of determination and fire, but I also heard it crack with fatigue.
Nobody could blame her, though. Her best friend had just betrayed her. He had betrayed everyone previously on his side; mortal, changeling, angel, and demon alike.
I stood silently, gazing at this distraught young woman, aspiring actress, believer in Allah, and a really nice person to boot, for a long time.
Finally, I said, “A really nice young mortal like you shouldn’t be searching for such a treacherous fiend.”
“Oh, I’m not just searching for her. I’m going to defeat her!” Inhab exclaimed, her hands clenched into fists, “Me! All by myself! A mortal!” Her wide brown eyes were brimming with tears, “Satainia will pay for all the injustice she’s done, and I don’t care who does it to her! Even if it has to be me. By now, it has to be!”
“I know she’s done horrible things, Inhab. Trust me, I’ve seen every last scheme she put into action,” I tried to sound as calm as a sloth, (pun intended), and as smooth as fresh-cut marble, “But this isn’t your destiny.”
“My destiny… my destiny?” Inhab challenged me. After a moment, however, she ran out of steam and lowered her head, “This has become my destiny. Since MIBS no longer cares about the mortals anymore, someone has to take his place-”
“Don’t you think an immortal should do his work, if MIBS can’t?”
Inhab stopped mid-sentence with her mouth hanging open, but no words would come out that could answer my question.
“The task you’re trying to tackle is simply too hard for a mortal alone,” I continued quietly, “I know this sounds incredibly pessimistic, but it’s true… even I can’t take her on alone.”
Inhab started to shake her head, but was jolted out of the action once fierce chanting began to make the water shiver below us.
“Kill the witch! Kill the witch!
Throw his bones into a ditch!
Show no mercy, strip his soul,
Make him suffer, he’ll pay his toll!”
“Wh-what’s going on?” Inhab asked shakily.
As the chanting got closer and closer, I could hear the undertones of the boats engines revved up to high speed.
“Burn the witch, burn him dry!
Take the water from our sight!
Give the land back to us, now!
To God and Justice, he will bow!”
“Justice?” Inhab asked dubiously, “None of this sounds very just to me. Who the heck are they looking for?”
In the distance, the mob erupted into a cacophony of cheers, obviously seeing their target nearby.
“Well?” Inhab was solemnly expecting me to give her the truth, “Don’t you know who they’re looking for?”
She wanted the truth. So, I gave her the truth.
Sometimes, not just for me, but for everyone… the truth is too much to bear.
Event B
15 minutes earlier…
“CHAD!” The dismayed scream of a young boy shook the (almost) empty cubicles in an office building a few blocks away.
“CHARLIE!” Screamed the parents of the young boy who were not dismayed (on the outside).
“Don’t go!” Charlie burst out of the Laurel cubicle and started dashing through the maze. The tall white walls of the cubicles, like the mountains in Nepal, rushed past him, along with the messy red Xs splattered all over them in blood. Yes, blood. The hospitals had recently been raided by “the Radicals” who were determined to banish the witchcraft they were so certain was surrounding them. They had taken from some of the recent blood donations and spread it all over the city.
They might sound insane, but trust me. If your hometown had been raining for nine months straight and had retained the water all that time, you would be a Radical too.
“Don’t go!” Charlie howled a second time. Even as the chaos of red on white exploded in his peripheral vision, all the child could see was the overarching figure of his older brother climbing out the window. The water level was parallel to the floor that they were on, so all Chad had to do was step out the window and land right onto his boat tied to the building. That was just what he did.
“WAIT!” Charlie slid his heels on the carpeted floor to stop himself from sliding out the window as Chad started the engine of his boat, and sailed off without a glance or word, “NO! CHAD!”
Charlie stood by the window, panting, and stuck out one arm towards his brother.
“You’re not a witch…” Charlie murmured.
“Charlemagne Laurel!” His mother called sharply, “Get away from that window, young man, and don’t you dare bring up that name again.”
Charlie stiffened, and turned around. His mother and father were both staring at him with missiles and in their eyes. The 4-year-old boy wasn’t quite old enough yet to feel meek or afraid or even humble in front of his parents while they were ordering him around. So naturally, he didn’t feel any remorse towards his (secretly) heartbroken parents when he retorted, “What name? Chad Laurel?”
“Your mother gave you an order, and it’s your job to follow her orders, and mine too!” His father exclaimed, “Go back to our cubicle, mister, for time out. And don’t even think about that man again.”
Hearing his own father call his elder son “that man” made Charlie even less willing to follow his orders. It made his whole body ache terribly like he was getting a bruise from the inside out. Charlie didn’t realize it at the time, but later he came to know that at that moment, he was growing older much too fast.
“What did I just tell you?”
“No.”
Charlie’s parents were shell-shocked at this very simple response that they could hardly say above a whisper, “Wha…?”
“I said NO,” Charlie stated, “I’m never forgetting about Chad. EVER. You can’t make me.”
Just as an aforementioned 13-year-old girl in a headscarf would react 15 minutes later, Mr. and Mrs. Laurel were speechless. Their world had been turned upside down, spun around in the opposite direction, and flipped sideways like Uranus all at the same time. Not only had their elder son been accused of being a criminal and a witch, but their younger son of only 4 years was already beginning to disobey them. And not just disobey them by choosing not to eat his vegetables, but by not following their orders that would keep him safe and happy.
This was a universe-shattering event. Even more shattering than the rain and the raids caused by the Radicals and everything else that had happened during those past 9 months.
Mr. and Mrs. Laurel were losing their sons.
“Mommy… Daddy… why don’t you go back to our cubicle and calm down. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I need to be alone right now, okay?” Charlie spoke like an adult would to his own bumbling children.
All his parents could do was nod.
Charlie didn’t wait for them to leave. He turned away from them and looked back out the window. He felt the brisk autumn wind massage his face.
The maturing 4-year-old boy sighed and sat on the edge of the window, his legs dangling off the edge and his bare feet dipping into the dark waters below. The water was cold as ice, and as cold as the attitudes of everyone he knew was looking for his brother.
Charlie was almost tempted to jump into the water and swim after Chad, but he knew not only was the water far too cold to swim in without a wetsuit, but Chad had probably covered much more ground (or water) in the few minutes had passed than Charlie could cover (without a boat, with his stubby arms and legs to power him) in an hour or two.
The distraught boy raised one arm and rested his chin in his hand, and sat like that surrounded only by the eternally familiar sound of rainfall and the slight waves of the water for a few minutes more, until I made my second visit to a mortal that night. Yes, I said second. You’ve already read about the third visit, and the first visit is yet to come.
“He’s been found out, hasn’t he?”
“Yes, Mr. Walter, he has,”
I sat next to the boy, but couldn’t meet his gaze. I stared out at the water and dangled my legs, which were long enough for the water to pass above my knees.
“I knew it would happen, sooner or later…” I said, blinking rapidly.
I felt Charlie’s hand grab me on the thigh, “We did the best we could to protect him, Mr. Walter,” He tried to comfort me, “You and I, Ant and Sophie, we did all that we could, and we aren’t ever going to stop helping him, aren’t we?”
“This is all my fault…” I whispered, “I didn’t help your brother at all, Charlie. I did this to him.”
Charlie’s hand started shaking my leg, as if he didn’t believe what I was saying in the slightest.
“I’m sorry, but… I have to go…”
“Mr. Walter!”
I worked up the courage to look at the boy, to take in his bright red hair, the same hair that still haunts me with guilt to this day.
“I’ll make sure his dreams are sweet… that being the least I can do. Goodbye, Charlie,” I lifted his hand off my thigh and gave him a sad smile. As easily as feet sliding on polished linoleum, I sunk down into the dark waters and tugged on one of Charlie’s feet before swimming away to my encounter with Inhab.
Event C
15 minutes earlier…
“Oh, Vanessa? Vanessa, darling?” A bright male voice called, “Are you here?”
“Vanessa? You’re looking for Vanessa?”
Let me set the scene. The two characters in conversation were in a bustling hair salon (and by ‘bustling”, I mean ‘full of customers’) that was located in one of the bigger live-able boats on the water. It surprised some people that the business of the hair salon had still survived considering how everyone was covering up their heads in order to stay dry. Presumably, the customers weren’t doing anything fancy, and they might’ve just wanted a trim.
“Vanessa just QUIT!” A very hyper female salon artist named Mona exclaimed, the blue beehive (Marg Simpson-style) bouncing on top of her head, “Just walked on outta here, saying ‘she knows who she really is’ and all that.”
“That is quite a shame,” The other character, a neat and lanky changeling past his expiration date (and no, that’s not what you think it means. He’s actually quite young) named Richard said, “I have a bouquet of flowers for her to claim.”
“That’s really really REALLY nice of you!” Mona exclaimed, and started to laugh hysterically, holding her stomach with her hands, “You must have some strong nerves! I don’t know many people who can tolerate that Vanessa! She’s rude! Absolutely vile! Positively insensitive! Incredibly unappreciative! And majorly-”
“Why yes, I believe you have told me all of this before,” Richard blushed, “But why on earth would she just traipse out the door?”
“I dunno what made her ‘traipse’ outta here… but,” Mona furrowed her eyebrows and started stroking an imaginary beard on her chin, “She did look totally different. She looked better. I think that was the first time I’d ever seen her without any makeup on.”
“Oh?” Richard tried to envision his date without any makeup, which was a very challenging task.
“For the first time ever… Vanessa looked like a real person,” Mona continued with a slight smile in her voice, “Looking real is something we take into account here at the salon too. We don’t do any insane hairdos here until we’ve gotten to know the customer who requested it well. If someone just walks in here for the first time and requests a buzz cut, we won’t do it. That haircut might not be… right for who ever wanted it.
“I’m sorry, I’m getting off-topic here!” Mona laughed, “Which is something I do very often! But we’ve seen each other enough times, I think you understand that by now.
“Barglgugluhggublffugbullg!!!”
“Excuse me, Mona?” Richard tapped her shoulder and pointed down, “You should keep an eye on what you’re doing down below!”
“Huh?” Mona asked and looked down, a look of panic invading her face, “Oh gosh! Good golly! Holy moly! Sweet Jupiter!”
As Mona was talking to Richard, she was washing a customer’s hair in one of the special sinks that only salons have; the sinks that the customers sit in front of and lean back into as the hairdressers wash their hair before getting their hair styled. Unfortunately, Mona had let her sink overflow and had been pushing her customer’s head into the water.
Mona hurriedly grabbed her customer by the collar of their shirt and pulled him upright. The customer turned out to be a large man who was quite fed up.
“How careless can a hairdresser be, I used to ask myself,” The customer was muttering as Richard helped Mona towel off the customer’s face, which was as red as a tomato, “Now I don’t have to ask anymore!”
Before Richard and Mona were finished, the furious customer pushed them aside and started to stomp towards the door.
“Oh golly gosh! I’m so so so so so ssssssoooooooooo sorry about that!” Mona ran to the customer and held him by the arm, “That was careless, but I promise it won’t happen again, sir!”
“I hate it when businesses become clingy,” The customer glared at Mona and shook his arm free, “Like this one. But maybe the salon down the road might be more accommodating,”
“Oh no no no! The salon down the road is terrible!” Mona was waving her arms and making all sorts of wild gesticulations to try and be more persuasive, “They don’t have half as many shampoos as here, or even half as many conditioners, or dyes!”
The customer was already opening the door to leave and untying his boat from the buoys.
“No wait, wait! We have coupons! If you get your hair done here once every 2 months for 6 consequetive months, then you get your next hair cut free!”
The customer had started his boat and was already floating away.
“We love your service more than they do!!! You’re making the wrong decision!!!”
Mona sighed and lowered her arms, trudging like a depressed zombie back to Richard.
“Oh my…” Richard started, “Is the salon going out of business?”
“No,” Mona said, “I just hate losing customers! Darnit!” She snapped her fingers in annoyance.
“Well, with that sort of determined attitude, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of future success,” Richard said comfortingly.
A sudden, offsetting sound made Richard contradict his own theory. Well, the sound wasn’t quite sudden… it started quietly, almost inaudibly. It rose up from the floor boards and reverberated off the walls. It steadily crescendoed, bouncing faster and faster off the walls, and made Richard’s head start to spin. The sound curled around Richard like a noose and tightened around his ears, becoming louder and louder, and making his blood slow down its course through his veins.
It was laughter he was hearing, and not just any laughter. I should know. I’ve had that noose on my neck every day for the last few centuries.
“Do you hear that?” Richard asked, and the laughter stopped.
“Hear what?” Mona blinked at him.
“The sound just now… that made me feel like a mouse with a nearby cat?”
“Pssst… Richard…”
Another sudden sound that was muffled slightly, one that was much more comforting to Richard, came from outside of the salon.
“Richard.”
Mona’s face lit up like a flashlight, “Oh, do we have another customer?”
“RICHARD!”
“For goodness sake, I can hear,” Richard rolled his eyes but smiled playfully, “And you wouldn’t have to yell if you could just come over here.”
“I would, but the door’s locked, smart one.”
“Oh, let me unlock the door for you, sir! Your patience is appreciated!” Mona stood up straight again and clapped her hands. Without hesitation, she shuffled over to the make-shift door of the salon, which was basically a big, flat plank with a key hole, a knob, and nothing else. The construction workers who hadn’t fled New York City (or hadn’t locked themselves into their own homes out of anxiety for that matter) had hastily installed the “door” into the wall after taking apart the brick that the old building was made out of to make room for it. Because the door was quite rustic, it was a handful to unlock.
“Just gimme one second,” Mona grunted, struggling to get the key to turn, “There we go!”
In came a man who looked somewhat like Richard, according to figure, while everything else about him was different. While Richard was spick and spam, this guy was a mess. His dark brown hair looked like he’d just gotten out of bed, his face was a little bit dirty, and even the clothes he was wearing were made to look messy; distressed jeans and a black leather jacket. He even had a little beard going on that was just a few short hairs on his chin, because he knew that a long beard would make him look like a homeless person, and he didn’t want to look that messy.
“Richard, for the love of Humility, I have to talk to you,” The visitor rushed to Richard, looking as distressed as the jeans he was wearing.
“Good evening, sir!” Mona jumped in between the two of them, “Would you care to have a trimming of that lovely mane of yours at this fine salon?”
The visitor started to roll his eyes, but when his eyes landed, they widened. A slick smile slid onto his unkempt face, and he cooed, “Well, hello there. You say my hair is lovely? Oh no, it is hardly comparable to your own,” He reached one of his grubby hands to stroke Mona’s hair, “The very height of it and shape and color, such a startling blue, takes my breath away.”
“Really?” Mona blushed, “I’ve never heard such compliments about my hair before. Everyone else had told me that I look like a cartoon character.”
“They should all be damned for saying you look like an immature figment of someone’s imagination,” The visitor continued, “Why, a woman like you with hair that tall would need nerves of steel to carry such an eye-catching-”
“Are you not in a hurry?” Richard tapped his foot impatiently, “Is there some reason why to here you chose to scurry?”
“Oh, right,” The visitor blinked and turned his attention back to Richard, “I have to talk to you! Like, right now! Alone.”
“You need to be in private? I know just the room for that… the break room!” Mona exclaimed. “All of the staff are working their tails off right now, so there shouldn’t be anyone in there. Look for the door with the sign that says ‘Break Room’.”
“Will do, my tall-haired lady,” The visitor winked at Mona, and grabbed Richard’s arm, “C’mon, pretty boy, we have no time to lose.”
Without another word exchanged between the two, they ran to the back of the salon, and ducked through the door Mona had mentioned that had, ‘Break Room’ spray-painted on it in fuzzy-looking black letters. A group of teenagers had been standing in front of the door, crouched down and painting something on it. They gazed up at the two men suspiciously. Upon seeing that the men both had brown hair, they nodded and let the duo through the door. Then, they resumed painting a plethora of red Xs on the door.
“I… need your help…” The visitor murmured once he and Richard were alone in the Break Room, which was a small, but comfy place with a few bean bag chairs, a table, a chess board, some dust pans and brooms, and a lightbulb hanging from the ceiling on a chain. The white paint on the walls was cracking, and more red Xs had been splattered across the walls. Neither of the two had any idea what the Xs meant, but they would know soon enough.
“What was that you said?” Richard asked.
“I know you heard me, Richard,” He growled, “I need your freaking help.”
Before Richard could compose himself, a chuckle bubbled up in his throat, which he had to let loose, “You DID say that! I thought I had lost my head! Because, since when does the great and powerful Lust need the help of a mortal such as myself?”
“You know you’re not completely mortal,” The visitor, who was indeed the immortal deemed Lust said, “You’re a changeling who happened to break all the rules. Anyhow, my point is-“
“Still, my goodness! YOU need MY help! I might as well take out my own heart and put it on a shelf!”
Lust was not a very patient soul; he liked most moments in life to be fast-paced and intense, he and had quite enough of Richard’s antics slowing him down. So, he slapped Richard in the face. It was serious, but with a playful edge to it.
“My point is, sore face,” Richard had begun caressing the mark Lust left on his face, and Lust continued, “I saw, ahem, you know who, carry off some mortal girl wearing a polka-dot headscarf.”
“Satainia, you mean?”
“Okay, the other you know who.”
“Chastity? How obscene!”
“We have to find that jackass, put some reason into his head, and get Satainia out of his head. And by ‘we’, I mean you.”
“I? Why must I be the one to…….???”
I had been listening intensely to this conversation from outside the salon, and meanwhile had conjured three live videos in the air in front of me. The Ring, the center of MIBS’ power which he had given up months ago, was on my hand, and I had been keeping it from entering any wrong hands. As long as you don’t count my hands as the wrong hands as well.
The three videos that I had conjured had taken so much energy from the Ring and from myself that I couldn’t hear anything anymore. Not even the ceaseless pounding of the rain against my skin made any noise in my ears.
That was when a shape started to glow. A purple triangle was seeping into my vision, and connecting the three videos point to point to point. On the lower left point of the triangle was the on-going video showing a woman without makeup and with eyes a similar shade of purple as the triangle. On the lower right point of the triangle was a young man with fiery red hair, with piercing, frightened blue eyes and a few purple bruises on his face. At the top point of the triangle was an adolescent boy with paper white skin, midnight black hair, and sunny yellow eyes, without a hint of purple in him. However, he was in a frantic search for the one purple object he used to possess; the Ring that was projecting him to me.
The triangle grew brighter with every passing heartbeat, and from its center, an upside-down Y and a right-side up Y emerged, and the Ys pulsed together like two interconnected hearts. Then, the triangle started pulsing, and I could hear my own heart pulse with it.
Through Humility’s Triangle, I thought, the three are revealed-
“Humility’s Reincarnate.”
No…
“You found it. You found them…”
Please, no…
“And you meant to keep this from me, didn’t you?”
Wings, please work for me. Get me away from her.
“DIDN’T YOU.”
FLY!
She dug her nails into my shoulders before I could move, “Give me the Ring, Walter.”
I struggled to get her to let go, even though I knew my attempts would be fruitless.
“I guess I’ll have to take it then.”
“NO!” I gasped, “I have to help them! I HAVE to help them!”
“You can’t do a thing for them, Walter. I’ve already won. I’ve taken their hope, joy, power, and anything else that I’ve found useful,” With nimble fingers, she yanked the ring off of my hand and let go of me. I fell backwards, but caught myself before I could crash into the water.
“All I have to do now is kill them one by one by one, and Humility will finally be dead, dead, DEAD!” Satainia howled, “That insufferable woman will be FOUR TIMES DEAD! Then, her throne and all her power will be MINE!” She flew in front of Walter and shook her right hand in front of him, showing the Ring she had taken, “And it’s all thanks to this Ring, and all thanks to YOU.”
I felt the invisible noose tighten around my neck as she started to laugh, her wild red hair, one side of which with strands straight as arrows, and the other side of her hair full of an insane whirl of tangles, shaking and convulsing as she laughed.
“Did I ever tell you why you’ve always been my favorite henchman, Walter?” She asked me once she was done cackling, but gave me no time to answer, “Because you’re just like Pinocchio! A puppet on strings! I can push you anywhere and you never resist! Like THIS!” Satainia pushed me into the water with her savage hands.
- - -
It’s true. I didn’t resist. Not before, and not then. Even as I was sinking into the murky water, watching her wavering piranha’s teeth give me one last beastly smile before she flew away with the Ring, I could hardly conceptualize what it have been like if I had pushed her into the water.
Because I am such a coward, I don’t want to tell you my story. Who wants to read a story about some chaos angel who never says “no” anyway?
Instead, I’m going to tell you the stories of the three individuals pictured in Humility’s Triangle. I promise, their all much braver than me. If I ever start talking about myself, don’t hesitate to skip past it.
I might not even make it all the way through their stories anyhow, because it’ll take a lot of courage just to tell you this…
Just wanted to warn you now…
Well, here goes nothing.

- - - - - - -
THIS is a MOMENTOUS occation! The Prologue (the FINAL prologue) is FINALLY done!!!
(YEAH. After deviantART decided to screw with me and said that the document was not displayable! So that's why the deviation is in the description -______________- )
I also had to submit this as a scrap instead of a literature deviation >_____<

There are a lot of things I really like in this chapter:
1. The beginning, setting the mood :3
2. Charlie and Walter's quick conversation, so much angst
3. Mona in general XDXD she is HILARIOUS
4. When Satainia sneaks up on Walter and steals the Ring... there was so much build up for that moment that it only needed dialogue, it didn't even need any setting there or anything... it was intense!

But there are also things I don't like.
FLOW. I'm talking to you. I know the flow sucks >_______< .
But whatever. I'm not focused on flow right now, I'm focused on the BIG PICTURE! Characters! Plot! Theme! All that good stuff!

OH MY GOD when I looked at how long I had been editing this in Word, it said that that I had been editing it for "1014" minutes. That's like SEVENTEEN HOURS of editing! This chapter was longer than expected XD. It was about 12 and a half pages O__________O . The rest of the chapters (or at least MOST of them) won't have 3 different events happening so they shouldn't be nearly as long XD

OH YEAH, the mood is kinda wonky in here because the Vanity's storyline, (the one with Richard, Mona, and those guys) has more comedy in it than drama most of the time XD. Chads' storyline (the one with the little redhead named Charlie) has more drama in it than comedy, and MIBS' storyline (the one with the girl in the polka-dot headscarf named Inhab) is somewhere in between, but for this chapter it was mostly drama XD

I am so excited for this!!!

Description
(I know the preview image is weird, the computer wouldn't let me use the document as a preview image for some reason -______________- , so that's why the whole document is gonna be in the description...)

When the destiny of one becomes undone,
The fate of everyone becomes uncertain
- Humility

~
Prologue
On that Halloween night, the fateful night deemed the apocalypse of joyful existence, there were three important events that happened only minutes apart from each other, all of which I was involved in. And all of which are my fault. Or just partly my fault. Or mostly my fault. It really depends on the event.
I may be stating this calmly, but I am not proud of what I’ve done. Not in the least. But, I’ve heard some dear friends of mine admit, my mistakes make for one hell of a story.
Event A
“Where has all this rain come from?!”
That question, posed by a young, bewildered reporter named Rebecca, was a very important question that no one in New York City could answer.
The streets were flooded. No, beyond flooded. The streets had been flooded for 9 months since, with continuous rain pouring 7 days a week, 24 hours every day.
The New Yorkers had become a nomadic tribe. They had to abandon their homes and move into office buildings on the floors that were still above water. A family was living in every cubicle. Uncomfortably, but dry, at least. They littered the office carpets with their mattress pads and sleeping bags and kept their belongings in the office desks under lock and key. They never could get any peace and quiet, with so many other people living in the same buildings.
As the water grew higher still, the New Yorkers migrated to the office floors still above water. When no empty cubicles could be found, they searched for any other buildings that had space and dryness to offer.
No one traveled by car anymore, and certainly not by subway. After 3 months of straight rain, every family in New York owned a boat that they used to get from one place to another. No one ever left home without their anchor and life preservers. After 6 months, some people bought boats big enough to live on.
The water itself was a sight to behold. After most days, the depth would grow by half a foot, and on some really bad days, the height could increase as much as FIVE feet. Once 5 months had passed, the water was 300 feet deep. After 9 months, the depth was 800 feet.
In most cases, a sustained depth of 800 feet of water in a whole city would break the laws of physics. Well, the good news is global warming hasn’t hit NYC quite so badly yet. The bad news: something else entirely has. Something that doesn’t follow the laws of physics…
Meanwhile, a 13-year-old girl in a polka-dot headscarf was trying to search for that something.
“Hey, look!” Inhab shouted.
No one looked. Everyone in New York City was preoccupied looking for that same something. Inhab was currently not aware of their mission, and just how wrong they were.
“Look!” She repeated, her voice making ripples in the water she was boating on. “A mortal is floating around in the water, out in the open! All alone! Just waiting for disaster!”
Inhab was using a poor means of acting and baiting to lure the diabolical woman who had started it all to her.
“Can’t you see me?” Inhab yelled, becoming more and more exasperated, “I’m right here!”
“I see you,” An unfamiliar male voice said. I said.
A simultaneous flash of thunder and lightning shook her boat and made her slip and fall.
“Umfff!” Inhab landed flat on her back and banged her elbows. She moaned as a searing pain rang through her bones.
“Allow me,” I interjected.
My dark-skinned hand with many scars on it, some of them open and bleeding, reached out to Inhab and waited for her to react.
After living in a big city all her life, Inhab knew not to randomly grab strange mens hands, even as she was injured. But considering the circumstances, all laws were out of question, including simple safety ones like that.
Inhab grabbed the strange hand and let it pull her upright.
By the way, I normally wouldn’t call my own hand strange, but I’ve been starting to lose a sense a self ever since that red-head and his little brother got me into so much trouble.
As soon as Inhab was on her feet, I knew she was judging me. I don’t think she was expecting a chaos angel with miss-matched glasses to be an aid to her. We look very shifty, to tell you the truth. Our wings are black like soot and full of tatters like old sheets. The rest of our clothing, however, tends to be in bright colors and full of patterns and patchwork. We also have a special accessory that Satainia uses to tell us apart, (she isn’t particularly good with names… most names, I should say). My friend Jeremy, another chaos angel, has dyed his blonde hair with blue and green stripes. Another friend of mine, Zoe, wears a court jesters hat on her head with bells on it that jingle with her every move. I happen to have glasses with miss-matched lenses. The right one is a thin-rimmed oval and the left one is a bulky rectangle.
A look of shock came upon Inhabs face, but soon enough, she got her words together and knew what to ask me.
“Where is she?” The mortal girl demanded.
Her voice was full of determination and fire, but I also heard it crack with fatigue.
Nobody could blame her, though. Her best friend had just betrayed her. He had betrayed everyone previously on his side; mortal, changeling, angel, and demon alike.
I stood silently, gazing at this distraught young woman, aspiring actress, believer in Allah, and a really nice person to boot, for a long time.
Finally, I said, “A really nice young mortal like you shouldn’t be searching for such a treacherous fiend.”
“Oh, I’m not just searching for her. I’m going to defeat her!” Inhab exclaimed, her hands clenched into fists, “Me! All by myself! A mortal!” Her wide brown eyes were brimming with tears, “Satainia will pay for all the injustice she’s done, and I don’t care who does it to her! Even if it has to be me. By now, it has to be!”
“I know she’s done horrible things, Inhab. Trust me, I’ve seen every last scheme she put into action,” I tried to sound as calm as a sloth, (pun intended), and as smooth as fresh-cut marble, “But this isn’t your destiny.”
“My destiny… my destiny?” Inhab challenged me. After a moment, however, she ran out of steam and lowered her head, “This has become my destiny. Since MIBS no longer cares about the mortals anymore, someone has to take his place-”
“Don’t you think an immortal should do his work, if MIBS can’t?”
Inhab stopped mid-sentence with her mouth hanging open, but no words would come out that could answer my question.
“The task you’re trying to tackle is simply too hard for a mortal alone,” I continued quietly, “I know this sounds incredibly pessimistic, but it’s true… even I can’t take her on alone.”
Inhab started to shake her head, but was jolted out of the action once fierce chanting began to make the water shiver below us.
“Kill the witch! Kill the witch!
Throw his bones into a ditch!
Show no mercy, strip his soul,
Make him suffer, he’ll pay his toll!”
“Wh-what’s going on?” Inhab asked shakily.
As the chanting got closer and closer, I could hear the undertones of the boats engines revved up to high speed.
“Burn the witch, burn him dry!
Take the water from our sight!
Give the land back to us, now!
To God and Justice, he will bow!”
“Justice?” Inhab asked dubiously, “None of this sounds very just to me. Who the heck are they looking for?”
In the distance, the mob erupted into a cacophony of cheers, obviously seeing their target nearby.
“Well?” Inhab was solemnly expecting me to give her the truth, “Don’t you know who they’re looking for?”
She wanted the truth. So, I gave her the truth.
Sometimes, not just for me, but for everyone… the truth is too much to bear.
Event B
15 minutes earlier…
“CHAD!” The dismayed scream of a young boy shook the (almost) empty cubicles in an office building a few blocks away.
“CHARLIE!” Screamed the parents of the young boy who were not dismayed (on the outside).
“Don’t go!” Charlie burst out of the Laurel cubicle and started dashing through the maze. The tall white walls of the cubicles, like the mountains in Nepal, rushed past him, along with the messy red Xs splattered all over them in blood. Yes, blood. The hospitals had recently been raided by “the Radicals” who were determined to banish the witchcraft they were so certain was surrounding them. They had taken from some of the recent blood donations and spread it all over the city.
They might sound insane, but trust me. If your hometown had been raining for nine months straight and had retained the water all that time, you would be a Radical too.
“Don’t go!” Charlie howled a second time. Even as the chaos of red on white exploded in his peripheral vision, all the child could see was the overarching figure of his older brother climbing out the window. The water level was parallel to the floor that they were on, so all Chad had to do was step out the window and land right onto his boat tied to the building. That was just what he did.
“WAIT!” Charlie slid his heels on the carpeted floor to stop himself from sliding out the window as Chad started the engine of his boat, and sailed off without a glance or word, “NO! CHAD!”
Charlie stood by the window, panting, and stuck out one arm towards his brother.
“You’re not a witch…” Charlie murmured.
“Charlemagne Laurel!” His mother called sharply, “Get away from that window, young man, and don’t you dare bring up that name again.”
Charlie stiffened, and turned around. His mother and father were both staring at him with missiles and in their eyes. The 4-year-old boy wasn’t quite old enough yet to feel meek or afraid or even humble in front of his parents while they were ordering him around. So naturally, he didn’t feel any remorse towards his (secretly) heartbroken parents when he retorted, “What name? Chad Laurel?”
“Your mother gave you an order, and it’s your job to follow her orders, and mine too!” His father exclaimed, “Go back to our cubicle, mister, for time out. And don’t even think about that man again.”
Hearing his own father call his elder son “that man” made Charlie even less willing to follow his orders. It made his whole body ache terribly like he was getting a bruise from the inside out. Charlie didn’t realize it at the time, but later he came to know that at that moment, he was growing older much too fast.
“What did I just tell you?”
“No.”
Charlie’s parents were shell-shocked at this very simple response that they could hardly say above a whisper, “Wha…?”
“I said NO,” Charlie stated, “I’m never forgetting about Chad. EVER. You can’t make me.”
Just as an aforementioned 13-year-old girl in a headscarf would react 15 minutes later, Mr. and Mrs. Laurel were speechless. Their world had been turned upside down, spun around in the opposite direction, and flipped sideways like Uranus all at the same time. Not only had their elder son been accused of being a criminal and a witch, but their younger son of only 4 years was already beginning to disobey them. And not just disobey them by choosing not to eat his vegetables, but by not following their orders that would keep him safe and happy.
This was a universe-shattering event. Even more shattering than the rain and the raids caused by the Radicals and everything else that had happened during those past 9 months.
Mr. and Mrs. Laurel were losing their sons.
“Mommy… Daddy… why don’t you go back to our cubicle and calm down. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I need to be alone right now, okay?” Charlie spoke like an adult would to his own bumbling children.
All his parents could do was nod.
Charlie didn’t wait for them to leave. He turned away from them and looked back out the window. He felt the brisk autumn wind massage his face.
The maturing 4-year-old boy sighed and sat on the edge of the window, his legs dangling off the edge and his bare feet dipping into the dark waters below. The water was cold as ice, and as cold as the attitudes of everyone he knew was looking for his brother.
Charlie was almost tempted to jump into the water and swim after Chad, but he knew not only was the water far too cold to swim in without a wetsuit, but Chad had probably covered much more ground (or water) in the few minutes had passed than Charlie could cover (without a boat, with his stubby arms and legs to power him) in an hour or two.
The distraught boy raised one arm and rested his chin in his hand, and sat like that surrounded only by the eternally familiar sound of rainfall and the slight waves of the water for a few minutes more, until I made my second visit to a mortal that night. Yes, I said second. You’ve already read about the third visit, and the first visit is yet to come.
“He’s been found out, hasn’t he?”
“Yes, Mr. Walter, he has,”
I sat next to the boy, but couldn’t meet his gaze. I stared out at the water and dangled my legs, which were long enough for the water to pass above my knees.
“I knew it would happen, sooner or later…” I said, blinking rapidly.
I felt Charlie’s hand grab me on the thigh, “We did the best we could to protect him, Mr. Walter,” He tried to comfort me, “You and I, Ant and Sophie, we did all that we could, and we aren’t ever going to stop helping him, aren’t we?”
“This is all my fault…” I whispered, “I didn’t help your brother at all, Charlie. I did this to him.”
Charlie’s hand started shaking my leg, as if he didn’t believe what I was saying in the slightest.
“I’m sorry, but… I have to go…”
“Mr. Walter!”
I worked up the courage to look at the boy, to take in his bright red hair, the same hair that still haunts me with guilt to this day.
“I’ll make sure his dreams are sweet… that being the least I can do. Goodbye, Charlie,” I lifted his hand off my thigh and gave him a sad smile. As easily as feet sliding on polished linoleum, I sunk down into the dark waters and tugged on one of Charlie’s feet before swimming away to my encounter with Inhab.
Event C
15 minutes earlier…
“Oh, Vanessa? Vanessa, darling?” A bright male voice called, “Are you here?”
“Vanessa? You’re looking for Vanessa?”
Let me set the scene. The two characters in conversation were in a bustling hair salon (and by ‘bustling”, I mean ‘full of customers’) that was located in one of the bigger live-able boats on the water. It surprised some people that the business of the hair salon had still survived considering how everyone was covering up their heads in order to stay dry. Presumably, the customers weren’t doing anything fancy, and they might’ve just wanted a trim.
“Vanessa just QUIT!” A very hyper female salon artist named Mona exclaimed, the blue beehive (Marg Simpson-style) bouncing on top of her head, “Just walked on outta here, saying ‘she knows who she really is’ and all that.”
“That is quite a shame,” The other character, a neat and lanky changeling past his expiration date (and no, that’s not what you think it means. He’s actually quite young) named Richard said, “I have a bouquet of flowers for her to claim.”
“That’s really really REALLY nice of you!” Mona exclaimed, and started to laugh hysterically, holding her stomach with her hands, “You must have some strong nerves! I don’t know many people who can tolerate that Vanessa! She’s rude! Absolutely vile! Positively insensitive! Incredibly unappreciative! And majorly-”
“Why yes, I believe you have told me all of this before,” Richard blushed, “But why on earth would she just traipse out the door?”
“I dunno what made her ‘traipse’ outta here… but,” Mona furrowed her eyebrows and started stroking an imaginary beard on her chin, “She did look totally different. She looked better. I think that was the first time I’d ever seen her without any makeup on.”
“Oh?” Richard tried to envision his date without any makeup, which was a very challenging task.
“For the first time ever… Vanessa looked like a real person,” Mona continued with a slight smile in her voice, “Looking real is something we take into account here at the salon too. We don’t do any insane hairdos here until we’ve gotten to know the customer who requested it well. If someone just walks in here for the first time and requests a buzz cut, we won’t do it. That haircut might not be… right for who ever wanted it.
“I’m sorry, I’m getting off-topic here!” Mona laughed, “Which is something I do very often! But we’ve seen each other enough times, I think you understand that by now.
“Barglgugluhggublffugbullg!!!”
“Excuse me, Mona?” Richard tapped her shoulder and pointed down, “You should keep an eye on what you’re doing down below!”
“Huh?” Mona asked and looked down, a look of panic invading her face, “Oh gosh! Good golly! Holy moly! Sweet Jupiter!”
As Mona was talking to Richard, she was washing a customer’s hair in one of the special sinks that only salons have; the sinks that the customers sit in front of and lean back into as the hairdressers wash their hair before getting their hair styled. Unfortunately, Mona had let her sink overflow and had been pushing her customer’s head into the water.
Mona hurriedly grabbed her customer by the collar of their shirt and pulled him upright. The customer turned out to be a large man who was quite fed up.
“How careless can a hairdresser be, I used to ask myself,” The customer was muttering as Richard helped Mona towel off the customer’s face, which was as red as a tomato, “Now I don’t have to ask anymore!”
Before Richard and Mona were finished, the furious customer pushed them aside and started to stomp towards the door.
“Oh golly gosh! I’m so so so so so ssssssoooooooooo sorry about that!” Mona ran to the customer and held him by the arm, “That was careless, but I promise it won’t happen again, sir!”
“I hate it when businesses become clingy,” The customer glared at Mona and shook his arm free, “Like this one. But maybe the salon down the road might be more accommodating,”
“Oh no no no! The salon down the road is terrible!” Mona was waving her arms and making all sorts of wild gesticulations to try and be more persuasive, “They don’t have half as many shampoos as here, or even half as many conditioners, or dyes!”
The customer was already opening the door to leave and untying his boat from the buoys.
“No wait, wait! We have coupons! If you get your hair done here once every 2 months for 6 consequetive months, then you get your next hair cut free!”
The customer had started his boat and was already floating away.
“We love your service more than they do!!! You’re making the wrong decision!!!”
Mona sighed and lowered her arms, trudging like a depressed zombie back to Richard.
“Oh my…” Richard started, “Is the salon going out of business?”
“No,” Mona said, “I just hate losing customers! Darnit!” She snapped her fingers in annoyance.
“Well, with that sort of determined attitude, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of future success,” Richard said comfortingly.
A sudden, offsetting sound made Richard contradict his own theory. Well, the sound wasn’t quite sudden… it started quietly, almost inaudibly. It rose up from the floor boards and reverberated off the walls. It steadily crescendoed, bouncing faster and faster off the walls, and made Richard’s head start to spin. The sound curled around Richard like a noose and tightened around his ears, becoming louder and louder, and making his blood slow down its course through his veins.
It was laughter he was hearing, and not just any laughter. I should know. I’ve had that noose on my neck every day for the last few centuries.
“Do you hear that?” Richard asked, and the laughter stopped.
“Hear what?” Mona blinked at him.
“The sound just now… that made me feel like a mouse with a nearby cat?”
“Pssst… Richard…”
Another sudden sound that was muffled slightly, one that was much more comforting to Richard, came from outside of the salon.
“Richard.”
Mona’s face lit up like a flashlight, “Oh, do we have another customer?”
“RICHARD!”
“For goodness sake, I can hear,” Richard rolled his eyes but smiled playfully, “And you wouldn’t have to yell if you could just come over here.”
“I would, but the door’s locked, smart one.”
“Oh, let me unlock the door for you, sir! Your patience is appreciated!” Mona stood up straight again and clapped her hands. Without hesitation, she shuffled over to the make-shift door of the salon, which was basically a big, flat plank with a key hole, a knob, and nothing else. The construction workers who hadn’t fled New York City (or hadn’t locked themselves into their own homes out of anxiety for that matter) had hastily installed the “door” into the wall after taking apart the brick that the old building was made out of to make room for it. Because the door was quite rustic, it was a handful to unlock.
“Just gimme one second,” Mona grunted, struggling to get the key to turn, “There we go!”
In came a man who looked somewhat like Richard, according to figure, while everything else about him was different. While Richard was spick and spam, this guy was a mess. His dark brown hair looked like he’d just gotten out of bed, his face was a little bit dirty, and even the clothes he was wearing were made to look messy; distressed jeans and a black leather jacket. He even had a little beard going on that was just a few short hairs on his chin, because he knew that a long beard would make him look like a homeless person, and he didn’t want to look that messy.
“Richard, for the love of Humility, I have to talk to you,” The visitor rushed to Richard, looking as distressed as the jeans he was wearing.
“Good evening, sir!” Mona jumped in between the two of them, “Would you care to have a trimming of that lovely mane of yours at this fine salon?”
The visitor started to roll his eyes, but when his eyes landed, they widened. A slick smile slid onto his unkempt face, and he cooed, “Well, hello there. You say my hair is lovely? Oh no, it is hardly comparable to your own,” He reached one of his grubby hands to stroke Mona’s hair, “The very height of it and shape and color, such a startling blue, takes my breath away.”
“Really?” Mona blushed, “I’ve never heard such compliments about my hair before. Everyone else had told me that I look like a cartoon character.”
“They should all be damned for saying you look like an immature figment of someone’s imagination,” The visitor continued, “Why, a woman like you with hair that tall would need nerves of steel to carry such an eye-catching-”
“Are you not in a hurry?” Richard tapped his foot impatiently, “Is there some reason why to here you chose to scurry?”
“Oh, right,” The visitor blinked and turned his attention back to Richard, “I have to talk to you! Like, right now! Alone.”
“You need to be in private? I know just the room for that… the break room!” Mona exclaimed. “All of the staff are working their tails off right now, so there shouldn’t be anyone in there. Look for the door with the sign that says ‘Break Room’.”
“Will do, my tall-haired lady,” The visitor winked at Mona, and grabbed Richard’s arm, “C’mon, pretty boy, we have no time to lose.”
Without another word exchanged between the two, they ran to the back of the salon, and ducked through the door Mona had mentioned that had, ‘Break Room’ spray-painted on it in fuzzy-looking black letters. A group of teenagers had been standing in front of the door, crouched down and painting something on it. They gazed up at the two men suspiciously. Upon seeing that the men both had brown hair, they nodded and let the duo through the door. Then, they resumed painting a plethora of red Xs on the door.
“I… need your help…” The visitor murmured once he and Richard were alone in the Break Room, which was a small, but comfy place with a few bean bag chairs, a table, a chess board, some dust pans and brooms, and a lightbulb hanging from the ceiling on a chain. The white paint on the walls was cracking, and more red Xs had been splattered across the walls. Neither of the two had any idea what the Xs meant, but they would know soon enough.
“What was that you said?” Richard asked.
“I know you heard me, Richard,” He growled, “I need your freaking help.”
Before Richard could compose himself, a chuckle bubbled up in his throat, which he had to let loose, “You DID say that! I thought I had lost my head! Because, since when does the great and powerful Lust need the help of a mortal such as myself?”
“You know you’re not completely mortal,” The visitor, who was indeed the immortal deemed Lust said, “You’re a changeling who happened to break all the rules. Anyhow, my point is-“
“Still, my goodness! YOU need MY help! I might as well take out my own heart and put it on a shelf!”
Lust was not a very patient soul; he liked most moments in life to be fast-paced and intense, he and had quite enough of Richard’s antics slowing him down. So, he slapped Richard in the face. It was serious, but with a playful edge to it.
“My point is, sore face,” Richard had begun caressing the mark Lust left on his face, and Lust continued, “I saw, ahem, you know who, carry off some mortal girl wearing a polka-dot headscarf.”
“Satainia, you mean?”
“Okay, the other you know who.”
“Chastity? How obscene!”
“We have to find that jackass, put some reason into his head, and get Satainia out of his head. And by ‘we’, I mean you.”
“I? Why must I be the one to…….???”
I had been listening intensely to this conversation from outside the salon, and meanwhile had conjured three live videos in the air in front of me. The Ring, the center of MIBS’ power which he had given up months ago, was on my hand, and I had been keeping it from entering any wrong hands. As long as you don’t count my hands as the wrong hands as well.
The three videos that I had conjured had taken so much energy from the Ring and from myself that I couldn’t hear anything anymore. Not even the ceaseless pounding of the rain against my skin made any noise in my ears.
That was when a shape started to glow. A purple triangle was seeping into my vision, and connecting the three videos point to point to point. On the lower left point of the triangle was the on-going video showing a woman without makeup and with eyes a similar shade of purple as the triangle. On the lower right point of the triangle was a young man with fiery red hair, with piercing, frightened blue eyes and a few purple bruises on his face. At the top point of the triangle was an adolescent boy with paper white skin, midnight black hair, and sunny yellow eyes, without a hint of purple in him. However, he was in a frantic search for the one purple object he used to possess; the Ring that was projecting him to me.
The triangle grew brighter with every passing heartbeat, and from its center, an upside-down Y and a right-side up Y emerged, and the Ys pulsed together like two interconnected hearts. Then, the triangle started pulsing, and I could hear my own heart pulse with it.
Through Humility’s Triangle, I thought, the three are revealed-
“Humility’s Reincarnate.”
No…
“You found it. You found them…”
Please, no…
“And you meant to keep this from me, didn’t you?”
Wings, please work for me. Get me away from her.
“DIDN’T YOU.”
FLY!
She dug her nails into my shoulders before I could move, “Give me the Ring, Walter.”
I struggled to get her to let go, even though I knew my attempts would be fruitless.
“I guess I’ll have to take it then.”
“NO!” I gasped, “I have to help them! I HAVE to help them!”
“You can’t do a thing for them, Walter. I’ve already won. I’ve taken their hope, joy, power, and anything else that I’ve found useful,” With nimble fingers, she yanked the ring off of my hand and let go of me. I fell backwards, but caught myself before I could crash into the water.
“All I have to do now is kill them one by one by one, and Humility will finally be dead, dead, DEAD!” Satainia howled, “That insufferable woman will be FOUR TIMES DEAD! Then, her throne and all her power will be MINE!” She flew in front of Walter and shook her right hand in front of him, showing the Ring she had taken, “And it’s all thanks to this Ring, and all thanks to YOU.”
I felt the invisible noose tighten around my neck as she started to laugh, her wild red hair, one side of which with strands straight as arrows, and the other side of her hair full of an insane whirl of tangles, shaking and convulsing as she laughed.
“Did I ever tell you why you’ve always been my favorite henchman, Walter?” She asked me once she was done cackling, but gave me no time to answer, “Because you’re just like Pinocchio! A puppet on strings! I can push you anywhere and you never resist! Like THIS!” Satainia pushed me into the water with her savage hands.
- - -
It’s true. I didn’t resist. Not before, and not then. Even as I was sinking into the murky water, watching her wavering piranha’s teeth give me one last beastly smile before she flew away with the Ring, I could hardly conceptualize what it have been like if I had pushed her into the water.
Because I am such a coward, I don’t want to tell you my story. Who wants to read a story about some chaos angel who never says “no” anyway?
Instead, I’m going to tell you the stories of the three individuals pictured in Humility’s Triangle. I promise, their all much braver than me. If I ever start talking about myself, don’t hesitate to skip past it.
I might not even make it all the way through their stories anyhow, because it’ll take a lot of courage just to tell you this…
Just wanted to warn you now…
Well, here goes nothing.

- - - - - - -
THIS is a MOMENTOUS occation! The Prologue (the FINAL prologue) is FINALLY done!!!
(YEAH. After deviantART decided to screw with me and said that the document was not displayable! So that's why the deviation is in the description -______________- )
I also had to submit this as a scrap instead of a literature deviation >_____<

There are a lot of things I really like in this chapter:
1. The beginning, setting the mood :3
2. Charlie and Walter's quick conversation, so much angst
3. Mona in general XDXD she is HILARIOUS
4. When Satainia sneaks up on Walter and steals the Ring... there was so much build up for that moment that it only needed dialogue, it didn't even need any setting there or anything... it was intense!

But there are also things I don't like.
FLOW. I'm talking to you. I know the flow sucks >_______< .
But whatever. I'm not focused on flow right now, I'm focused on the BIG PICTURE! Characters! Plot! Theme! All that good stuff!

OH MY GOD when I looked at how long I had been editing this in Word, it said that that I had been editing it for "1014" minutes. That's like SEVENTEEN HOURS of editing! This chapter was longer than expected XD. It was about 12 and a half pages O__________O . The rest of the chapters (or at least MOST of them) won't have 3 different events happening so they shouldn't be nearly as long XD

OH YEAH, the mood is kinda wonky in here because the Vanity's storyline, (the one with Richard, Mona, and those guys) has more comedy in it than drama most of the time XD. Chads' storyline (the one with the little redhead named Charlie) has more drama in it than comedy, and MIBS' storyline (the one with the girl in the polka-dot headscarf named Inhab) is somewhere in between, but for this chapter it was mostly drama XD

I am so excited for this!!!