Stage 00

[  n u l l  S T A G E  ]

THE PRELUDE

"You know too much."

The cold, heartless words echoed across the massive palace halls. There was no attachment in its tone, there was no emotion. There was no trace whatsoever that would say it was human, however, at the same time it could be none other than just that. Only humans were capable of delivering such empty words so cruelly. Only humans were capable of making such cruel words sound so empty. And only humans, in the end, were capable of living by such blatant contradictions so freely.

But then again, one can't exactly call them human either.

Standing over the disgraceful form of a weeping child, not a spec of pity in those colorless eyes as he stared the broken girl in front of him down, was nothing more than a young man. Dressed with the garments of a dignified class and with eyes distinct of a man of unmistakable command, his name was true and unspoken. With no hesitation in his fluid movements, he reached into a compartment of his coat and from it drew a formidable machine that could be none other than a gun. With the sound of metal clicking into place, he snapped the weapon in the weeping girl's direction, who at that moment remained oblivious to her delicate situation.

"You know what happens now, don't you?" came yet again that ruthless, unfeeling voice. "Raise your head."

The halls were dark. There was no light in the endless corridors of this castle made of pure, untainted glass. No light but for the single crimson ray that connected the gun that carried death with the forehead of that broken little girl. As she was ordered, she raised her head and met the eyes of the man before her. Those colorless, uncaring eyes met by the pain and regret weighted by the sins committed by those chocolate brown orbs. Though she no longer wept, tears streaked down her cheeks. But she spoke not a word as she looked up at the man, just waiting for what she was aware was to come

"You, who have time and time again stepped beyond the boundaries of man, seeking knowledge forbidden to you and your kind, staining not your hands alone with the blood of the living..." The sound of the metal lever resonated across the glimmering glass walls, and the whole enclosure was bathed in a dark crimson glow. "You are stripped of your name and removed of your rights. The Council has sentenced you to death. And I, Galenos Ruille Maximilian, have been charged with your execution."

It was then that the girl finally closed her eyes, a sensation of melancholic peace washing over her features. A ghost of a smile pulled at the corners of her lips, and she nodded. It was true. She had committed all those crimes, and she admitted to her sins. There was no forgiving all the things she had done. And when it came down to it, there was truly only one way to end this. With that, she opened her eyes, and gazed back up at her executioner. Her desire plain in her tired eyes and with no more need for words.

I want it to end.

"I understand," she said then, her voice soft and weak as she spoke. His finger wrapped around the trigger, the man aimed for the center of the girl's head, staring her down still with no hesitation in his soul. He saw the sadness, the loneliness in the girl's eyes. But there was nothing he could do about it now. There was nothing he could do but this. To end it once and for all. With just one, clean shot... he could end it all.

As if she could feel the cold touch of death brushing her shoulders, beckoning for her arrival, the girl nodded silently. She closed her eyes again, forcing a smile on her features as she just laid there, kneeling helplessly on the ground. Tears flowed anew down her already stained cheeks, and she turned up almost happily to the young man before her. "Bye bye, Gaile."

Gunshot, its sound and presence, consumed the glass halls of this lightless castle. The crimson glow faded into the dark, and the soft thump of a fallen soul went with it. There was no longer the sound of the little girl's weeping, nor her breath, nor her heartbeat in these halls. There was no more but the untamed presence of the man with the gun, with the life of that child, broken in his hand.

There was no more but the vermilion stain that pooled upon the once pure, untainted glass floors of this holy palace as the executioner swiftly turned on his heel and descended these empty halls, fading away as the glass --as everything--shattered in his wake, to disappear and never again return to this desolate sanctuary that had once been a place they could have all called home.