A very simple story...

He sits alone in the darkness. As always. As ever. Once...Before a thousand sunrises...Být chycen Andel stood as a king stands among his minions. Before En Sabah Nur. Before the dark one called Bastion felled him...Imprisoned him. For sunset upon sunset--piled high, one ontop the other--the former king has set his blind eyes...His stone hands...To a singular task...To fending off madness. But these last days--the burden of solitude is broken. These days Být chycen Andel has...Company. Být chycen Andel is aghast. For has he been exiled for so long...That the very face of humanity changed? There is no answer forthcoming? Again--as with every time before it--Být chycen Andel is left with questions. Was he such a horrible king, that he should suffer so...For so long? Or was his only transgression that he dared oppose En Saban Nur? Why has Být chycen Andel's vision been replaced with images...images of a world that cannot be? En Saban Nur is a cruel captor indeed. For the only way for Být chycen Andel to free himself of his visions...Is to record them...To etch them in stone. Or has Být chycen Andel simply--finally--gone mad?

When last he walked the earth above men was neither fish or fowl nor rock nor flame. Man was simply man. But this angel before him bespeaks another age of humanity. Much like the image of men of entire cities falling from the sky. Of spirits plucked from the ether to the now. Impossibilities. Atrocities. Blasphemies. "Tell me." Beseeches Být chycen Andel of the angel-who-would-be-human-- "Tell me why you are here. Answer for me the thousand thousand mysteries which plague me through the eternal night. "Answer me! Lest I tear the answers from your very mind." No I have opposed the will of the dark one once, I will not make that err so again. Být chycen Andel is gone, I am all that is left...