~{The Kaiser's Tale}~

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Then, fear struck the hearts of the Kaisers, piercing their chests, strangling their throats, for it destroyed the last of their merry lives. Torn asunder across the continent, stretching through every visible corner of the world, one by one, they perished beneath the cold, blazing sun. Their hands delved into the darkest of matters, until, unbeknownst to them, a striking hunger began to rip them apart; a hunger that had plagued their forbears, now plagued their descendants, leaving only two behind.

Belonging to an everlasting peace, filled with all the glories known to man, nothing evil proliferated there, a precious city vanished in one night. No one witnessed the horrors that emerged from within, as they were all asleep, forever in an endless slumber, inside the tombs that imprison them. However, three have escaped to hide their past, two have escaped retribution, one escaped to prosper.

But alas, the first three succumbed to ills most lethal, and were left to rot on barren ground, leaving the last few to drive forth their legacy, their future. With nothing to their names from the destruction of their home, they fled to an empire, in a city with an iron dome. But even that, in the end, fell to the ground. Their story is now remembered as an oral tragedy, remembered by one –a tragedy resting forty years in the past.

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Under the dim light of a worn chandelier, a woman hugs her child tenderly. She whispers the tale of a common nighttime story, and wishes for the next day to come sooner. Each word coming out of her lush lips sounded like the songs of birds. Her eyes were made of the purest gold, sparkling even in the darkest of nights. Two horns sprout from her scalp, forming scimitars of lustrous silver, resting on top of her sleek black hair. A thin gray tail stretched behind her, before ending in a candlelike tip. A fair beauty she was, gorgeous from head to toe.

Her arms were covered in thin dark sleeves —if only they were sleeves to begin with. Its surface felt coarse like dragging a nail across rough pavement;  it stretched from her shoulders to her wrists; they started as little splotches, full of cracks and cuts, until they grew and formed into stripes. What ever remained of her skin on her arms is now ravaged by a disease coursing through her veins.

"It's time to sleep now, Rye," She said, hiding the pain rupturing through her body.

"But Momma, I don't want to sleep now," Her child asked, rubbing his eyes, releasing a yawn.

"No, you must get your sleep, baby."

"But last night... when I was asleep, I heard you and Dad fighting again... and... and..." He choked on his breaths when he spoke. He freed himself from his mother's embrace, and stood on his bed standing beside him.

"Shh, shh. You need not worry about it love. Your father is away right now. He'll be back soon. Though I do hate him for not spending enough time with you, your mother is here to fill the gaps. You love momma, right?"

"Yes."

"Now then, sweet dreams, Rye. Sweet dreams."

"Okay..."

  She laid her child to bed and planted a kiss on his forehead. She patted him on the back until his breaths grew softer, when he fell into his slumber. She wrapped a blanket over him before she herself went to sleep. But her body betrayed her, her mind too. Dark bags sagged underneath her eyes as she tried to get some rest. The moon was fresh and the crickets came out anew. The hymns of the night flew into her ears. Only with a heavy sigh, she was finally able to sleep, but a nightmare crept behind her. 

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Earlier that Day...
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"Is that the reason why we were attacked? Answer me, Wheatley!"

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