Prolog: Ignite

Somewhere in the distance a tower clock struck, drwoning out even the stupid laughter and shrieking with its loud brassbound sound, which has been surrounding him already for hours from all sides. Heavens, already two o'clock at night and he still had found nothing. Did he really look so ill-tempered today that no one dared to approach him? That wasn't usually a problem...

The disheveled black-haired man, who had been squatting at the bar since midnight, turned his head ungraciously and sullenly pushed back the long pitch-colored strands over his shoulder before gazing disparagingly on the still exuberantly dancing crowd behind him.

How they hooted and scrambled back and forth, only to finally forget their own undoing. Cowardly weakness disgusted him.

With a weary sigh, Madara turned back to the busy bartender on the other side of the counter and propped the pale chin on the back of an even paler hand, staring absent-mindedly into nothingness.

Jeez, what a disastrous night. He had had such a good feeling last night, and now? He could no longer rely on anything. Not even his own senses.

He looked up discontentedly at the vibrating loudspeakers on the ceiling, which had been bothering him with their horrible noise for what felt like an eternity.

The music today was really miserable and its dull monotonous bass was beginning to drive him insane. So insane that he began to wonder what would happen if he just blew them up.

Man, why had he come here, he should have known better.

The cool gaze of glowing eyes lowered heavily to the melting ice cubes in his colorful glass.

Somehow he should have guessed that this super new hip bar here couldn't possibly be worth the money. What a waste. Not that he had to worry about money, but he had paid quite a lot to get into this club in the first place, and now this.

If only he had stayed in his hotel room and just read some more books. At least that would have had some added value. What a load of crap.

The thin pale lips opened slightly to let out a frustrated grunt.

Even his absurdly expensive cocktail just tasted like puke. Some sick mixture of window cleaner and energy drinks - or whatever the employees here dubbed 'fancy'.

In addition, the air stank unbearably of the sour sweat, alcohol and rotten breath of the countless local patrons. After the stench of inevitable death and constant decay...

Madara hated the sickening exhalations of mortals. More than anything else. Why the hell was he still here anyway? To feel dirty?

"H... hi, cutie, are you here by yourself?"

The black-haired man didn't respond at first. A woman's voice. Obviously completely drunk. So drunk, in fact, that she apparently didn't notice the other man's literally lethal charisma. Well, not what he had hoped for, but in his situation, I guess you just had to take what you could get, right? And the role of the scavenger actually suited him quite well, didn't it?

A charismatic smile shone in the smoky twilight, before the addressed man lifted his face, acting timid, to the petite woman next to him. To the petite, not particularly pretty young lady who had dyed her short hair a deep, intense dark green. Madara hated dyed hair. As well as cell phones, computers, and all that other advanced stuff. All this modern bullshit was just a sign that this society here was also lurching inexorably toward its end.

"Yeah, I kind of stayed lonely today," he laughed heartily, wondering at the same moment if she didn't actually notice his feigned friendliness.

"A friend invited me here because he wanted to celebrate his graduation, but then he found a pretty girl and immediately forgot I even existed. Kind of mean, isn't it?"

His new acquaintance's face abruptly flared up in burning scarlet - hotter than hellfire itself.

"Ouh, may... may I sit down, then?" she asked nervously, running her thin fingers awkwardly through her short green hair.

"Maybe we can just... talk a little bit, or something, if it's... okay?"

She couldn't help but stutter uncertainly and shrink into herself in shame - barely guessing that the older man had long since made up his mind about her.

"Of course, why not? That sounds like a terrific idea!"

Madara almost disgusted himself at the feigned warmth of his voice before continuing.

"I was about to go home, but I like this alternative here a lot better, so let's talk."

Once again, an engaging smile distorted his lips until the girl finally dared to take a seat next to him and - to his chagrin - began to ramble on without stopping to take a breath. The black-haired man had never heard so many things in one bunch that he didn't even want to know. About ex-boyfriends, problems with her father, evil professors at her university....

By all the gods, he missed the good old days when mortals just had to shut up in the presence of an entity. And little did he know that only an hour later, much more frustration would await him.

The room was filled with impenetrable darkness and the sweet, dusky scent of the noblest mahogany flowers. With the sound of fingernails clawing into the mattress and the endless rustle of soft fabric. And the absolutely unbridled moaning of a female voice that screamed in the most honest desire into the night. At least someone was having fun there.

Madara had been thrusting into the quivering body of his one-night stand for more than fifteen minutes now, but still he could not find the slightest pleasure or ecstasy in the activity. It was so boring how the stranger, whose name he had long forgotten, just reacted, just laid there, making no effort whatsoever to participate in any way in their lascivious shenanigans. Unconsciously preventing her lover from completely letting himself go and enjoying this callous lovemaking here at least a little bit. All he wanted to do was...

Yes, yes, the immortal knew exactly what would happen if he let his control slip. If he started having sex his way, but... piece by piece he stopped caring. If he kept pulling himself together the way he was, there was no way he was going to climax, and that was despite the fact that he'd been craving a decent orgasm so badly for weeks. Couldn't he at least try this one more time? Try out if he could reach his climax this time without unleashing a disaster? Dare to try just one little experiment? Let himself be washed away by the explosion, the overwhelming pleasure and the release?

A sharp scream pricked his eardrums before he managed to jolt out of his fantasies, aghast. Ahh, shit. Not again.

The girl beneath him had begun to twitch madly as her entire body wilted like a forgotten potted plant in midsummer.

Horrible wrinkles flooded her face and the artificial emerald color of her hair turned the strangest sickly light green under her aging process before the weeping old woman trembled for the last time and finally just slumped over. As dead as anyone could be.

Ah, great, he had done it again. For the thirty-fourth time this year already. Shit.

Madara sighed in annoyance and sat up in surrender, not looking for any distance to the corpse underneath him. How was he supposed to live a normal, fulfilled existence like that, hah? How was he supposed to enjoy the pleasures of an eternal life if he was doomed to kill every time he accidentally dared to relax, huh?! Jesus, again, he just wanted to screw some mortals, was that really too much to ask?!

Why couldn't he, a fucking deity of death, just have a little fun for all eternity?! He was a grown man, for fuck's sake! Was it his fault that all the other deities, except him, had completely disappeared in the last centuries?!

Was it his fault now that death was the one thing that people didn't dare to forget? That he was the only remaining god who could still enjoy a relatively pleasant existence? That was just plain unfair!

It took only seconds for the enraged entity to leap out of the warm night's lodging, cursing, and begin to dress himself again, hissing in frustration.

He was so sick of this whole shitty situation! So infinitely and endlessly fed up! With no chance of escape! Was he seriously doomed to kill every single person on this fucking planet first before dying himself from sheer dissatisfaction and boredom?

Annoyed, he ran down the endless steps of his latest victim's apartment complex, not knowing what to do with his time or how to kill it.

His day was ruined before it had even begun, what the fuck -

He had almost crossed the expensive doorsill when a poster on the stairwell wall stopped him abruptly.

What...? Suspiciously, he took a step closer to examine the poster more thoroughly.

It was advertising an event at the observatory.

This noon. Hosted by a surprisingly young-looking, handsome man with straight ebony hair tied in a pigtail and an enchantingly gentle but forbidding smile on his ivory features.

Madara felt his otherwise composed expression slip involuntarily before he forcefully tore the innocent paper from the wall and tried to study it even more intently. Completely stunned.

'Itachi Uchiha, head of the Shapashu Observatory, is pleased to introduce you to the mysteries of the universe.'

This couldn't be true, could it? Was it possible! Was today his lucky day?!