The Shadows of the Damned

[Sprolf]

One Year Previously: 792


Irontooth District,
New Berlin


The mansion was on fire, blazing with brilliant orange flames.
The grounds, it seemed, even were. Or was that just the light?

Whatever the case, it didn't matter. It was all burning, all gone.
He couldn't do anything..... he just stood and watched... watched the fireman attempt to combat it. He knew - they knew - it was futile to try to save the mansion. Save the research. Save his family. And yet, they tried. Why would they do such a pointless thing?

Human nature.
Struggling against the inevitable.

You could never win that sort of thing.



All this ran through Diedrich's head subconsciously as he watched the red flames leapt up into the pitch black Berlin sky. The wide mansion below gave off a brilliant orange light, across the snowy grounds, and up into the air above. He imagined that it could be seen for miles, his life burning away like that.

He acknowledged that it at least looked nice, burning.


The medic came back over to Diedrich. "Herr Von Claussen?" he asked, placing a hand on Diedrich's shoulder. "Herr?" he asked again, shaking a little. Diedrich just pulled the blanket around his shoulders. This didn't feel real, sitting here in the snow. It wasn't real, this wasn't a paramedic's blanket he was holding, it was his own. He wasn't sitting in the snow, it was his white sheets. This was not his oak tree he sat against, it was his oak backboard.


"He's gone into shock, we need to get him out of here!" the medic yelled hastily to the others, at the rear of the airship ambulance that was parked on the grounds.


Diedrich heard them, but he didn't care.
Only one thing mattered to his mind - why had this happened?

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