Fallen Angel
by Scarfdalek

Part One: The Dead World

"All vegetation…and vessels died out…"

I am Kuja of Terra. I am the Angel of Death. I am a citizen of Bran Baal, last city of Terra. If you are reading this, then I am dead. It is difficult to write. I would like to…explain. To explain the real reason why I fought against you all.

I remember my awakening.

My eyes opened. I was in a blue cylinder, filling with thick blue liquid. My hair was long, white. I wore a traditional Genome's outfit, a simple cloth jacket and trousers. Wires were attached to my body. I could hear voices on the edge of hearing.

"He's alive," said a man's voice, "He's alive."

"His hearts are beating," said the mechanical voice of one of the Genomes.

"Brain activity?"

"He should be able to hear us."

"Then let us begin."

I screamed. Blue light was burning into my body, scything through my mind, cutting into my fragile psyche. Blue liquid filled my throat and nostrils as I thrashed uselessly. The glass slid open, and I fell out onto the hard stone floor. A huge man towered over me. His hair was white, and he had a long beard. His eyes blazed with intelligence, and he wore black body armour and a red cloak.

"Leave us," he ordered the Genome.

The Genome obeyed, and I was left alone with the huge man. He reached out a hand to me. I stared at it apprehensively. The huge man gave a sigh.

"Do you not know me?"

I shook my head. I tried to piece together fragmented memories, but it was too much to assimilate.
"I am the Lord Garland, ruler of the dead world of Terra," said the man.

Then everything went black.

When I awoke, a female Genome stood over me.

"Where am I?" I demanded.

"This hut is for sleeping," said the Genome, "Come. Garland wishes to see you."

We left.

As we stepped out into the square, I gasped. There were hundreds of them. Countless Genomes, all identical. Androgynous clones, everyone of them. As one, they turned towards me. I felt a new emotion, like a deep weight in the pit of my stomach. My hands tensed.

"This is the Angel?" asked one.

"It is," answered my Genome.

"What are you talking about?" I demanded.

"You do not know of your purpose?" asked another.

"No," I said.

"Garland will tell him," said another.

My Genome led me on through the stillness of Bran Baal, to the darkness of Pandemonium.

The two of us travelled through that soulless darkness. It is impossible to describe Pandemonium. The withered heart of Terra pulsed with life. I could feel Garland's presence, it filled the place like a malignant stench. We finally reached the heart of Pandemonium.

"You must go on ahead," said the Genome.

"Wait," I commanded, "How will I find you again?"

"I do not understand," replied the Genome, "I am no different. Go, angel."

I stepped into the heart of Pandemonium.

There he stood. He turned to me, and there was concern on his face. Real concern.

"How are you?" he asked.

"I am confused," I replied, "I know how to speak, how to walk and breath. But I know nothing of who I am, nothing of these creatures which prowl this place, nothing of where we are."

I learned with Garland for a long time. He told me of Terra, of my purpose. I came to Pandemonium every day for lessons. When I was not learning, I wandered about, wandered out of the Last City and into the ruined wastelands that was our world. Every six hours, I would eat. There was never enough food on Terra, and as the Genomes never ate, different-or maybe the same, I never could tell-Genomes would come and watch me. Once, after I had finished, I tried to engage one in conversation.
"Why don't you eat?" I asked, "You have never eaten since I came here."
"I don't understand," said one.

"Since you came here?" asked a second, "You have always been here."
"No," I insisted, "There was a time before I arrived."
"What are you talking about?" queried a third.

"Do you have no concept of time?" I asked, "Like, a week ago when some of my vita-pack spilled to onto the floor."

"That happened," said one, "All things happened."

"When was the last time we had a conversation?"

"We have had conversations before."
"But when did it happen!?" I screamed in a rage, "Don't you know, you stupid-"

"Stop this!"

The voice shook Bran Baal to its very foundations. I fell to the floor. Garland towered over me.

"How did you get here?" I asked.

"I am in all places here," he intoned.

He held out a hand. I reached for it, and he pulled me up.

"Understand this, Kuja," he said, "You and I are special, a breed apart. That is why our hair is white. Only we understand time. Only we have souls."

He embraced me. I loved him then. Not as a creator, not as a master, but as a son loves a father. I don't know what he felt.

From that day, Garland and I would walk the dead world together. We would stray further and further from the city. We would fly over the planet in the Invincible.

Years passed, and I reached my sixteenth birthday. It was then that Garland decided I had served my purpose. I flew the Invincible to Gaia, so I could begin the great work.

That was twenty years ago.

~End of Part One~