The Earth...Our home, the largest, most inclusive habitat for our fragile species. Large enough perhaps, that one may think they could hide from anything. From your villains. Your friends, even your loved ones. Some may forever run to the edges of the earth when it gets too much. When your fears become a reality. When the consequences of your actions are too much to bear. Or even, to hide from your destiny....Because why not?
The danger has been deserted. Only piece and quiet remain, the warmth of the exotic sun and the lovely breeze of the salty air. It is a quaint solace when one basks in ignorance. Assuming they have escaped their fate, escaped destiny...Escaped themselves. Maybe for a moment, you may think you have escaped. But the reality is harsh, one may run far, further than they have ever run before....But you can never truly escape.
We are not born equal. No matter how hard we try to deceive ourselves. Some individuals are simply more special. This is merely natural selection, this is evolution. Some may carry the genetic gene which turns them from ordinary, to extraordinary. And yet, evolution is imperfect. It is a violent, soul sucking process in which morality loses it's delicate meaning. Those born among us with these extraordinary abilities are left with a curse. Destiny has chosen them and it is up to them, and them alone to choose their path.
All children are born innocent. A child is neither born good, nor bad.
Then why is it, do so many among us go so terribly wrong? Why do so many of us seek the path of darkness while the others seek the path of light? Is it virtue of character, or are we born into this world with a predetermined alignment? Why is it some seek the path of heroism, while others delve into villainy? Or maybe the universe is random, chaos. We are thrust into this world and forced to face an overwhelming amount of threats and fears, challenges and obstacles. Is it sheer chance, and chance alone which determines our fate?
But the simple, overriding question is this...When nature calls, when the threat comes into sight. When you can no longer run from your fears...Do you Survive, Or do you perish?
England, London - An abandoned alleyway.
The Gothic Knight quietly sat, thoughtfully contemplating life and it's sporadic changes which had been unfairly cast upon him as though this was all a game and he was the puppet. Kurt had just seen Abby for the first time since that dark night in Gothic. Although their meeting had gone without a hitch, it had felt...Off, like the old wounds and old memories had yet to subside. Kurt had purposefully missed his flight back to Gothic City. A few hours prior to meeting Abigail he had received a letter, a letter which bore news of something which no human could or should ever face alone. He didn't have the heart to tell Abigail. The letter had been tucked away in his pocket the entire time, through the flight, it had not been opened. It was a desperate thought which had stopped him. A silly one. Kurt thought, if he did not open the letter again and the words did not flow into his mind...Maybe reality would not be true.
A shaky hand moved downwards and into the warmth of his pocket, withdrawing a white piece of scrunched up paper. On the paper read the words no son ever wanted to read. The darkness illuminated by the vibrant glow of his verdant eyes.
"Dear Kurt, this is your father...I'm sorry your mother and I have not been in contact, something terrible has happened. Your mother has fallen sick. The doctors have given her three weeks. We tried to contact you earlier, but you were missing. We don't know where you've been, or who you've been with, all we know is you started a life...A new life? A life of heroism, we are proud Kurt. Your mother is proud. But Kurt, it's time to come home" and what did the Emerald Knight do? He fled, he fled to Britain and abandoned his own parents. His fear was no villain or no monster, it was death. Carefully folding the paper back up into four pieces before neatly placing it back into his pocket with the utmost care, he bowed his head down again, back arched, as though he was a defeated man. Unaware the perils of the night had only just begun.