Chapter 1: A Crimson Rewrite

January 2, 2598 | 5:00 a.m. Tuesday morning

For centuries I have watched humans kill each other in the name of religious and politic power. I have watched humans cling to the possibility of surviving those who take their freedom away, just to have that hope dashed upon the rocks of history. Once upon a time I founded a research center to help stop such things from happening. It was named World Death Intervention Research Center, or WDIRC for short. The point of the facility was to help prevent horrible, hopeless situations of every caliber. From dictators, to alien invasions. Nothing was off the table.

I did not realize that there were some scientists who got greedy for knowledge had ceased power within WDIRC. Not until it was all too late. It all happened so fast. One moment I am going about business per usual, until I wasn't. Four armed guards had taken me deep into the bowels of the facility. I was sedated heavily then restrained in a hospital bed. Next thing I knew centuries began to pass by while I began to slowly starve. They didn't want me to intervene in there conquest to make weapons in the form of abilities they did not understand. I doubt they understand them presently either.

My imprisonment ended when a couple of powerful subjects broke out of their confinement. From what little was left of WDIRC, they happened to destroy all the facility's fail safes in the process. Good for me at least.

Reader, I promise there is a reason I am explaining all of this. It is best for you to know who is documenting everything. I find that it is easier to understand a point of view if you know a little context first. The context being that this world I have found myself in wasn't the one I had left when I was first imprisoned. After my captivity ended I found myself in a world I was unprepared for. This world is broken and rather bleak, if I am being honest.

All I want presently is to find out what exactly transpired, provide assistance where I can, and restore hope for a better tomorrow. I, Somniare Omnia, refuse to let a less than desirable situation break me. Perhaps I have have lost my understanding humanity, however, I have not lost my desire to assist humans live in peace.

Peaking out from behind the old decrepit buildings on the horizon came the sun rise with the sound of small feet pounding against the cracked sidewalk below the window of the apartment. The moment she heard the footsteps, she slowly placed the pen onto the splintered oak top of the nightstand on the right. After the ribbon was placed against the most recently written page, she closed the journal as she let out a long drawn out sigh. Tucking a strand of her curling dark blue hair behind her ear she leaned over to the window to confirm what she had heard. Peering out the window her gaze fell below to find the sound was from children chasing one another in play. Something about those children playing tugged at her, the corners of her mouth curling into a half smile.

Watching them play she opened her journal up once more; this time to sketch. Each stroke of the pen was a moment in time in which she immortalized a memory, helping her keep it alive for her eternity. Her hand moved with elegance of someone who has practiced skill in the art. It took about 15 minutes till the sketch was finished. Holding it up she examined the image to make sure it was up to her standards. A soft relaxed sigh escapes her as she picks up the pen to give the image a caption.

January 2, 2598 | 5:26 a.m. Tuesday morning

No matter how hard things can get, children will always find time to play. Isn't that beautiful? To be a child and find an escape from the harsh reality with friends. So resilient, yet still deserve to be protected.

Setting down the journal once more she moved to the window, her gaze fell back to the children playing below. The cracks in the old concrete of the sidewalk didn't seem to bother any of the kids as they ran around kicking their ball. Pink and purple swirls bounced around making the ball look like some sort of cosmic kick ball. It stood out among the dull shades of the decaying landscape as if it were a star. One child kicked the ball hard enough for it to land in the middle of a black top road that happened to be littered with a familiar sickenly-sweet scent with a splash of copper mixed in. At a quickened pace her eyes scanned the street to search for exactly what the scent was in worry of what the children might be exposed to.

There it was, the road filled with decaying corpses with crimson flowing freely while playing children headed right towards it. Seeing the sight before them hit her in the heart with a pang of worry. Wasting no time she quickly went to grab a hollow feathered pen that she had hiding away in a small case. The sharp tip of the pen pierced her index finger of her right hand causing a trickle. Once she is bleeding the blood flowed into the pen as she held it in the same hand. With great care and precision she began to write in the air using her blood as the ink. Each word clung to the air as she continued carefully writing "the sanguine tides shatter into blooming crimson roses."

As the words were done being written, she took a breath whispering out "the sanguine tides shatter into blooming crimson roses." As they are uttered the words flowed form where they had been written, out the window, then down to the street. She watched as the crimson words touched the carnage before the unsuspecting children. The carnage erupted into a sea of gorgeous crimson roses. Another sigh slipped from her lips, this time one relief, as she watched the children arrived to the road. Their eyes filled with wander as they gazed upon the roses. A few would look around trying to figure out exactly how the roses managed to appear in the middle of their path.

The half smile slipped back on her face as she observed the children's amazed wander. Wincing in a bit of pain, her gaze went to her bleeding finger and the pen. "Right. Need to take care of this before I have to feed again from blood loss." Moving with determination she put the pen away, then licked at the prick in her finger tip to wipe the crimson stream from the wound. As it healed she gave a nod of approval.

For a brief moment she picks up the journal once more, opening it up by the ribbon. Carefully she begins to write about the incident.

January 2, 2598 | 5:40 a.m. Tuesday morning

I have felt rather hollow since I came out of my confinement. Some would state that I am apathetic to an extent, yet when those children came into view I felt something that reminded me how much I want to protect them all.

He would have been proud and disappointed in what I did today. Regardless he did keep me around because of how I viewed the world. I didn't want to dominate; I wanted to protect. Maybe the disappointment would have left him quickly. Even though it may be but a vague memory, I can still hear him saying to choose to use Verity in only dire circumstances instead of little issues. I do believe he would have had a soft spot for those children like I did though.

The ability called Verity was passed to me by him, Nen. Verity is a rather dangerous one, which has been abused for ill intent before. Nen was very selective in his successor of the ability. He didn't trust anyone easily, including myself. It would have never been permitted for me to use Verity on such a superficial scene such as the grisly scene that had laid out on the road. His most likely reaction would have been him stating, "those little ones have probably seen much worse, Somniare." The thought of his stern voice makes me giggle. Even I feel the need to give them a reason to smile, which is what those roses provided. I have always enjoyed roses.

I wonder what he would have done. Would he have kept to his stance on not using it? Or would he bend as I did? I believe the answer is rather simple. He wouldn't. He would never use Verity to solve this world's current issue. He'd stand in the doorway telling me how they are children who must learn. Then he would get a soft look on his face, pat me on the back telling me that I did good. I've always been careful not to use Verity more than needed, if ever. This was a known fact with Nen. He knew my heart.

He chose me to carry the burden of the ability. It's my choice on what to do with it in the end. I don't need to completely understand why I did so, when I know that I have always cared in the past. Is there part of me that isn't completely severed from the empathy that I used to carry with me? After a week of living among them it seems that I have grown attached. They are not kittens or puppies. Humans are easily corruptible. Vile and cruel to each other. However, those little ones have done nothing yet. There is still hope. They are the hope of the future, which needs to be protected at all cost. I do not mind losing some blood for their benefit.

The pen hovered for a moment, almost in anticipation of writing another word on the page. Dropping the pen onto the page a black splotch of ink bled into the page slightly before she quickly grabbed it up to cap it. Setting it aside, then closing the book Omnia had a thought to check on the children once again out of curiosity.

Navigating through her dingy apartment she returned to the window checking back on the small group was doing. She noticed a child glancing up directly at the window. For a brief moment the child made eye contact with her. As the child waved up at her, she moved inhumanly fast to the other side of the apartment with utter panic coursing through her very being. Even though she wanted to learn about human emotions once more, she was still extremely leery of others considering her past with other humans.

Near the kitchen she kept her back to the wall, hyperventilating from the sheer panic. Her crystal blue eyes were wide and shimmering in the dull lighting of the apartment. Tightly closing her eyes she muttered to herself in a soft hushed tone. "Omnia, you aren't surrounded by them. They are children. Children. Children will not harm you. Not this time. You must protect those children. Those little ones. They are innocent. They are the future of this place." Crystal blue tears fell down her face as she attempted to calm herself down. Every fiber in her being was telling her to move, to stop hiding. She needed to start opening trusting a few people again, of course with some caution. She wasn't going to have a repeat of the past few betrayals again.

The moment she opened her eyes she immediately scanned the room to double check that she was still safe. Slowly she moved to the bathroom as she focused on controlling her breathing. Instinctually her hand rushed upward for a crimson pendant that hung around her neck on a long chain. For a moment she held her hand there as she stared into the mirror over the sink. With her right hand she wiped the crystal blue tears from her cheeks, trying to look like she hadn't been frightened from being seen by a child.

After turning on the faucet she made haste with washing off the rest of the residue from her flushed cheeks. With a quick glance at the mirror she noticed there was none left, then turned off the faucet. A microscopic chuckle slipped from her lips as she thought to herself, I haven't shed a tear in so long. I almost forgot my tears were that color. A soft smile grew on her face while she closed her eyes focusing on the pleasant memory. He had a good laugh when I saw that color for the first time. I couldn't figure out why we cried tears that matched our eyes. The chuckle turned into a giggle as she shook her head, forcing herself back to her present. "It's what we are."

Returning to the window she glanced outward, not looking down. She was wanted to see if there were anyone coming towards the apartment complex that were new to the area. It had only been about a week since she had arrived to the building. However in that time she had grown attached to the people there even though she kept them at arms length. She could tell that they all just wanted to survive the difficult times they had all found themselves in.

She kept reminding herself that they were not the ones that locked Somniare Omnia away in the first place. The fact was that she had zero reason to cause them any harm. These were the people she wanted to protect in the past. Relief came over her as she found that no one new was showing up at the moment. It had been decided that she would make sure they were able to keep their peace as long as she was around.

The moment she began to think about sitting down to write in her journal after checking there was a knock at the door. With an irritated roll of her eyes she sauntered over to the door, then peered through the peephole. Omnia wasn't going to take unnecessary chances if she could help it.

As she looked into the peephole there stood a woman about in her late 30s, early 40s, with soft brown hair down to her shoulders. The woman wore a lot of soft pinks, her body bouncing with what seemed to be excitement. It annoyed Omnia to her core that someone was that peppy. Omnia rolled her eyes, once again, as she took a deep breath. "What do you need, Treva?" The cadence of her voice held an annoyance that everyone in the building was used to, even after just a week. Treva Bane was no exception. It was Treva who brought out that cadence in Omnia more than anyone else. It wasn't a leap to figure out that no one was truly surprised that Treva was the type to gossip at every turn.

January 2, 2598 | 7:53 p.m. Tuesday evening

Treva Bane is incontestably the person you would speak to if and when you desire information. Not always accurate information but it is mostly reliable to some extent. Unfortunately it comes at a heavy price. The moment she knocked on my door, I should not have even let her know I was there. Part of me is glad I did. I have been walking around for a little over a week since I left W.D.I.R.C and came to the Stardust Apartments, yet I still know nothing. Luckily for me, Treva knows plenty of what has transpired.

According to her, about 16 years ago a woman ran for president. At first it all seemed rather nonchalant considering it was the norm for a democracy. Things began to quickly change. Treva described it as "the most rapid insanity of change" that she had ever seen. Of course she commented on how I must have been living under a rock to not know that Andromeda Morganite had become president. Didn't matter that it was a total of 16 years prior to me being freed. She didn't know. I wasn't going to tell her.

Of course my curious mind got the better of me. The biggest question I had for Treva Bane was how it began. Unfortunately it was text book. They went after rights for those who are considered minorities. Villainizing those who need the most help. Apparently Morganite was charismatic. Her voice soothing and calming, making it easy for millions to devote themselves to her whims.

As Treva told me more about Andromeda Morganite, my entire being froze with utter fear and disdain. History had repeated itself. Millions killed for a singular asinine reason.

When I asked her if there were anyone standing up against it, she gave me a rather melancholy answer. Yes, but they were all sent to be executed for speaking out. Everything was rather public according to her. My heart sunk. The fact that people actually were awake and fighting hard just to be cut down. Apparently there was a resistance that was not going to stop fighting. Even now as I write this people are fighting, however they struggle for their voices to be heard. Media is heavily restricted. Everything heavily monitored to the point they can locate any attempts to provide an ounce of rebellious thought. Dashing everyone's hopes on the rocks of a dictatorship.

For what seemed like an eternity we both remained silent. Tears fells from Treva's sweet golden brown eyes. I could smell the fear and worry rolling off her. It was heartbreaking to say the least, yet rather understandable considering.

It was strange to have a human sit on my dingy couch in the living room and not be treated like a monster. Instead we sat across from one another talking for what felt like a century. The moment she broke down I didn't know exactly what to do. The facts were simplistic, she was human and I was not. Nen's words flooded back to me. "Somniare, don't ever change that caring heart. Always show kindness when I could not." It was his dying wish, even though we didn't always share the same ideals. He didn't trust humans, whereas I tended to trust too easily in them. Without a second thought, I decided a hug would be the best option.

As I hugged Treva gently she clung to the embrace. There was a warmth that I had never felt in all my centuries. Quickly that was interrupted by the sound of trucks storming towards the Stardust apartments. Both of us ran down three flights of stairs to find out what who arrived and what was happening. The children were the first on my mind. I believe it was Treva's as well considering she rushed to put herself in front of the children.

Standing outside of the entrance of the building I saw three military vehicles. Or what I would have called military at the very least. There could be any number of reasons why they came to the place I decided to take up residence. My only hope it wasn't to capture me once more. I can imagine that I had a less than desirable look on my face that was not welcoming at all. We all listened as they asked if we had seen anyone out of the ordinary. Someone who would stand out in a crowd.

Now, when these militants stated that I will admit I took a couple of steps back. Not many people I had seen in this new reality of mine had dark blue hair, skin as white as a corpse, or crystal blue eyes that reflect like a cat's eye. The only other person with these eyes would have been my maker. Alas he has been dead a thousand years, give or take.

Thankfully, the lovely residents of the Stardust apartments stated that there is no one that would be considered out of the ordinary here. The militants quickly gave a vague description of who they were looking for. The person in question had a hood over their face and vivid violet eyes. A few people probed for more answers, alas none was given. To say it was frustrating would be an understatement of the year. What was worse was the fact they decided our answers were not good enough for what they wanted.

One of the older men in our group was grabbed by a militant, his hands quickly tied. The feeling that ran through me could only be described as anger, yet I feel that isn't correct. I was about to jump into action as a tin can flew at the militant's skull. Using the chaos to our advantage, we got everyone back inside of Stardust. Waiting for everyone to get inside, I held the door open as I took the moment to try to find who threw the tin can at the militant.

There was nothing there.

Omnia let out a shallow breath as she put away the pen and journal, her thoughts still in a jumbled mess in her mind. "I think I will go clear my mind." The words were soft, gentle even with a calmness she hadn't had earlier.

Not wasting another moment Omnia got up as the sun at officially set. Grabbing the dark jean jacket from it's stop on a coat rack, she put it on then left the apartment. Considering she was on the fourth floor, she had a few steps to walk down to get down to the main floor. The entire time she felt as if someone's eyes were burrowing into the back of her skull. The feeling was off putting, yet when she looked there was no one there.

The feeling of being watched only grew as she stepped outside. Most of the people in the building had gone to bed, or at least their were in their apartments relaxing for the evening. She knew that it wasn't anyone that lived there. Deciding to confront this watcher, she went down an alleyway.

Making sure her back was against the wall she scanned the alley, waiting for whomever was watching her. That's when she spots something in the pitch black of the alley. There it was. In the recesses of the night there was a glimmer of violet. Then she saw a familiar glow of eyes.

Deep violet eyes were at the far end of the alley, watching her every move.