A Fall From Grace

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. As he hurled through the stars, damned to the distant planet, his cry of anger shook the galaxy itself.

Some Time Ago

Long before any other civilization, the All-Father established a flourishing utopia. The citizens reveled in its eternal bliss. Technology advanced far beyond the mind's understanding, a level that others' would never reach. The City of Gold was the definition of peace and perfection; that was until he grew envious of the All-Father's power and royalty. The Prideful One, as he would come to be known, was the right hand of the ruler himself. He was the administrator of the city and tasked with the duty to maintain the state of bliss.

As always, life was prosperous in the city; hover cars traversed the skies, new inventions were thought up on the daily, and automatons roamed the city streets, ordered to clean every speck of dust. Medicine had progressed to the point of maintaining immortality. High-rise lofts overlooked the lively utopia, commanding sight of the city's bustling life. On the outskirts of the metropolitan lay a more peaceful environment: the techno-arboreal gardens. Natural vines and stalks, infused with cybernetics to maximize production, ran through the landscape. The wildlife pranced through the fields in the span between the city and the gardens. Light drafts blew the biotech foliage.

The Prideful One frequented these gardens regularly, oftentimes finding himself sitting on his secluded bench, admiring the city from afar. His face shined with exuberance every time he gazed upon the utopia. It reminded him of how much he loved his job. The greatest feeling was the one he got from bettering the lives of his fellow citizens, whether that was overseeing the installment of new housing or the planting of this very garden. As per his routine, he sat on his park bench. It wasn't uncommon to see other people at the park; it was by far the most beautiful space, even compared to the City of Gold, in his opinion. The best feature wasn't one in sight, however. When building the gardens, he purposefully created a small alcove all for himself to bask in the scenery. On occasion, passersby stumbled upon his private paradise, though he was happy to share his space.

During his latest venture to his spot, such an occasion occurred where he overheard two people admiring the park's elegance, which immediately ignited a smile on the Prideful One's face, for he was the one responsible for its creation. After continued speech, he realized that the two weren't having a conversation with each other: they were praying to the All-Father, thanking him for the beauty that lay before them. His smile shifted to a look of unease and confusion. Then it struck him all at once: the All-Father always received praise for his work. The All-Father was the one that the people adored. The All-Father was revered as the wise leader. Meanwhile, the Prideful One stood off to the side while the king willfully stole the adoration that was rightfully his. Time after time, day after day, the permanent smile that once resided on the Prideful One's face slowly fell as the seed of covetousness would eventually blossom into a full-fledged despise for his king.

After the strange encounter, the Prideful One kept the foreign emotions at bay. The City of Gold was one of complete purity: the people were quite literally incapable of anything less. But, somehow, the whispers of conceit and jealousy droned on in the back of his mind. Thankfully, intrigue quickly overcame the thoughts when the All-Father called for an assembly; a gathering such as this had never happened before.

As he stood in the corner of the terrace that overlooked the crowd of thousands, the Prideful One couldn't help but wonder what news could cause such a momentous occasion. Finally, the All-Father stepped to the edge of the balcony that towered over his people, and a cheer that shook the foundation of the city itself erupted. After prolonged applause, he silenced the crowd. The All-Father explained that, being content with his burgeoning paradise, he set his eyes on a new project. He was working on creating a new species in his private lab, one that he would send far away to observe. He planned to create a slice of paradise of their own to live in so that they too could dwell in serenity. As the citizens celebrated with excitement, the Prideful One felt a wave of rage wash over him. Why wasn't he involved? Was he really that worthless in the mind of his king? He was the mastermind behind the City of Gold. It wasn't fair. He was going to ensure he got the recognition and respect he deserved.

A long stretch of time passed since the All-Father announced his plans for his new experiment. The project launched mere days ago, the window for which the Prideful One had waited so long. Over the period of time, he had been consumed with vainglory, greed, and wrath. There were no remains of the man he used to be. The deadly feelings poisoned his reverence for his home. No longer would the wildlife bring serenity, the lively atmosphere invoke a sense of community, or his king trigger a feeling of respect. Ever since the assembly, he realized how he was the rightful leader. He built the city. He helped the citizens with their problems. He was the one that created the gardens. Not the All-Father. His time was coming. Soon.

The Prideful One conducted private meetings in his garden alcove, the same one he used to frequent to admire the beauty of life. Over time, he built up a legion of his own, made up of those to whom he manipulated and spread lies. He sparked and stoked a wildfire of negativity that engulfed his newly-dedicated followers. Some were told that the All-Father would replace the community with these new creatures. Others were told that the All-Father would abandon the city, leaving them to fend for themselves. The time for action was now; their king was distracted by his repugnant creatures that were now living in the faraway paradise. So, with one fell swoop, the rebellion was now in full force.

Chaos erupted in the once serene streets. The Prideful One's legion stormed the city. Statues erected in honor of the king were knocked over. Murals painted in the image of their ruler were defaced. With no formal need of an army, the city stood vulnerable to the unimaginable coup, or so they thought. The people still dedicated to their king picked up everyday items and charged toward the defectors.

The king overlooked the massacre with a stern face. He couldn't help but be a little surprised by the uprising. His mind raced, calculating the best course of action. At the same time, the Prideful One came rushing into his majesty's presence. Playing the part of the administrator, he asked the king what they should do to mitigate the war. While the All-Father gazed down at the masses, revealing his thoughts to his right hand, the Prideful One slowly slipped out a blade he crafted to slay the king himself. He called it the Godkiller. The king, midsentence, coughed up blood as the blade plunged directly into his heart. He fell to his knees and, in his dying moment, caressed the face of the administrator. The Prideful One took to the balcony and addressed his subjects. He spouted on about how the king was slain, how they would no longer be replaced, and how they would never be abandoned. A smile that crossed his entire face took over as he raised his hands and heard a roar from his devotees. Those loyal to the king dropped their weapons, with feelings of despair and disbelief now extinguishing their fighting spirit. The Prideful One, still peering over his new empire, smugly put his hands behind his back, knowing that he had finally won. Click. Click. His hands were now shackled. He spun around in a flash, and his face grew into one of horror as he saw two figures of his king, one lying on the ground, dagger still thrust into his torso, and the other standing directly in front of him without a scratch. The body lying on the ground flickered away as it was a technological decoy; he had been tricked.

After addressing his detractors and revealing the lies spread by the Prideful One, the All-Father stood before the operational teleporter. A line of the traitors moved cyclically towards the portal as, one by one, the shackled prisoners were exiled to random corners of the universe, no longer welcomed in the paradise that was once theirs. They had submitted willingly after realizing what they had done. Spatter now painted the roads of gold. Bodies littered the street. They were ready to face their punishment. The last of them was the Prideful One. His face rose towards his king and offered a single intense glare, one that would shatter a heart. A tear ran down the All-Father's face as his once beloved confidant walked through the portal.

Now

After a seemingly endless spiral throughout the cosmos, the now-banished confederate crashes onto the surface of a distant rock. As he stands and gazes onto his new home, he spies familiar creatures in the distance, the same creatures he has despised since their creation. With a mischievous smile overtaking his countenance of rage, he journeys towards their garden. For his name was formerly Lucifer, and his new purpose was to destroy everything that his Father had created.