True Colors: An Interdimensional Tragedy

Prologue

A hooded stranger, cloaked in shadow entered a large room, his torch was the only light. The room was heavy with undisturbed air and priceless artifacts untouched and unseen for generations. Painted on the walls, forbidden knowledge known only to a long dead race. The stranger was not there for the lost relics nor the damning knowledge, he was there for what the damning knowledge spoken in hushed terrified whispers.

The Wretched Eye

The stranger repeated the name in his mind, knowing what he could achieve with such power, and what would become of him if he dared use it.

He shouldered his guilt with every step into the forsaken tomb. He stopped before a large stone door blocking the way to damnation and destroyed it, like every obstacle that had dared to stand before him. His once holy weapon had destroyed the physical obstacles but had been powerless against the obstacles responsible for his many sleepless nights, when the only thing breaking the deafening silence were the cries of those who he once believed were his foes, and the love he couldn't save.

But not for long, he thought to himself. The Disciples will be no more. The stranger's thoughts were interrupted by the shout of an old friend, now an obstacle. The glasses-wearing warrior wearing a green cloak reached out to the stranger. In that moment he felt a glimmer of hope and redemption. That hope dissipated when the stranger heard voices behind him, promising him the return of the one he had lost.

"Arthur, what are you doing?" The Disciple asked.

Arthur sighed. "You saw her body, you know what must be done," he mumbled grimly.

"This isn't you Arthur, she wouldn't want you to do this!" The Disciple begged.

Arthur gazed into the Wretched Eye, then back to his friend. The Disciple launched a glowing green knife at the Wretched Eye. The stranger used his power to conjure a clear crystal spire from the ground to intercept the projectile. The blade of the knife turned the clear crystal to black obsidian as Arthur glared at his fellow Disciple. The Disciple tried to reason with his old friend, but the stranger couldn't hear him over his deafening desire to fix his mistakes. The Disciple bowed his head and summoned countless glowing green knives then charged his friend turned foe. The knives cut through the now obsidian spires that blocked his way as he lept at Arthur. He had an opening, an opening to end it all, to stop the future tragedy from ever happening. But how could he do that to his old friend?

The Disciple slashed at the strangers chest, landing behind him and shoulder checking him in the back. The stranger stumbled and swung his axe at his unlikely foe. The Disciple barely blocked the massive blow with his puny knives and was thrown to the side. Arthur easily overpowered the Disciple, beating him to the ground with his fists and knocking the Disciples glasses to the ground. Arthur backed away from what he had done and turned to the Wretched Eye, seeing a mysterious abomination standing in the shadows, beckoning him to the unthinkable power. Arthur took the amber stone that was the Wretched Eye into his grasp, turning it to his old friend, betrayal writhed in the Disciples eyes as the Wretched Eye tore away at his soul, peeling his power away from him as he fell to the ground. He was the first of billions to fall to the horror of the eye. Arthur has become the new Emperor of the Wretched Eye's Legion, he has become the Fallen One.