The Light Warrior Files
Chapter 1, Part 5: The Prophecy
By Chris Ward
After that last comment, Builder slipped the earpieces into place, and left me completely
deaf and blind.
The blindness faded first. I found myself flying over New York City. As I flew over a single
skyscraper, I quite suddenly crashed down through the roof.
The voice of the Dark Lady cut in, speaking in the rolling, oratorical cadence I remembered
from her proclamation of her identity and raison d'etre. “The plans of the Games Master are
set. His pieces are assembled and in motion.” During this, I was thrown down through the
floors until I came face to face with a man I recognized as Mr. Linderman. He was laughing
as he stared out the window, over my shoulder.
Suddenly I was spun about and given a glimpse of what he was looking at. “The Brother of
Flight seeks that which is beyond him. Yet, the Games Master will ensure it is obtained.” I
watched as a Congressional candidate Nathan Petrelli flew across the skyline, struggling
against something I could not see, in an attempt to reach a building in the distance. I
glanced down and saw a graph splashed across the buildings below him. It appeared to
contain polling data, and clearly showed him losing. I looked again, and realized that the
building Petrelli was struggling so hard to reach was the House of Representatives. At that
moment, the laughter from Mr. Linderman doubled in intensity. As if that were a signal, the
numbers began to change. The change began with agonizing slowness, but rapidly gained
in momentum until the numbers were a blur. As the change progressed, the flying grew
easier for Petrelli, and the House grew closer. By the time the numbers stopped changing,
he had clearly won the election. He alighted on the front steps of the House and,
straightening his tie, walked inside.
The scene went black and then focused in on a pair of shadowy, menacing specters.
Although one was much larger than the other, it was the smaller figure that was in motion.
“Sufficient unto the day is the Evil thereof. There are 2 evils abroad in the world; the
Greater Evil and the Lesser evil. However, the Lesser Evil is the only one who has taken or
will yet take a hand in the events that are in motion.”
I watched as the smaller figure approached a young man. Unaware of his presence, the man
reached out a hand and brought a coffee cup, from across the scene, toward him. “The
Lesser Evil is in search of the Variants. He seeks that which makes them different, and he
desires to take it. In taking it, he desires to make it his own.” I watched in horror as the dark
figure swelled to unimaginable size and loomed over the young man. As a wave crashes
onto the beach, the figure fell over the man. When he moved again, I could barely make out
the body of the man, laying dead. The figure raised one menacing hand, and the cup arose
from beside the deceased. With a convulsive clenching, the figure closed his hand and the
cup shattered. As he stalked away, I once again took a flight over the city.
I landed near the fountain in Kirby Plaza. “In the belly of the Sleepless Giant lies the
Fountain of the Winding Stair. It is here that the Brother of Power shall come face to face
with the Lesser Evil.” I watched as a young gentleman, whom I vaguely recognized from a
press conference as Nathan’s younger brother Peter, walked in from my left. I was briefly
distracted by a fluttering paper on the ground which declared “Petrelli Wins.” When I
looked again, Peter was most of the way to the fountain, and then he stopped. H was
staring at a dark figure which entered from the opposite side. As they stood, framing the
sculpture in the fountain, the scene exploded out to a wide shot of New York City.
The Dark Lady’s voice had been the same throughout, but it suddenly took on a stricken
tone, as if she had glimpsed a tragedy she could barely handle. “From the Fountain of the
Winding Stair there shall come a flame bearing with it death and destruction. An explosion
such as has not been seen in the world of men. And it shall decimate the Sleeping Giant,
this fire from its belly. Of its body, much shall be destroyed. Of its life, the greater part will
be extinguished.”
In growing horror I watched as, while she was still saying this, the entire world went
blindingly white. From the Plaza came a towering inferno. All sound, save that of the Lady,
was lost as a deep bass note sounded, swallowed by the sound of an explosion. As the
inferno continued to raise and expand, the mushroom cloud towered over the earth.
As the sound of the initial explosion faded, it was replaced by sounds which were no less
intense. The shattering of glass and the sound of building collapsing as the pressure wave
expanded combined with the roar of the expanding flames. After what felt like an eternity,
but could only have been a matter of minutes, the explosive flames receded. As they did
so, I was forced to keep pace. They left behind them a smoking, burning ruin. As I reached
Ground Zero, what had once been Kirby Plaza, there was nothing left. What little had not
been simply removed from the area by the force of the explosion was burned, melted and
twisted until recognition was impossible. There were still a bare handful of buildings whose
ribs remained standing. They were twisted reminders of the devastation, blackened fingers
reaching for hope that had fled.
I found myself walking through the streets that had, until recently, been teeming with life.
Now they were filled only with death. My ears were filled with the discordant cacophony of
crackling flames, collapsing buildings, shrieking sirens and the shrill screams of the
wounded and the dying.
As I moved along the streets, randomly weaving my way through the destruction, I was
acutely aware of the ash flowing around me. Unfortunately, it did not blind me. I was able to
see the bodies, as well as the refuse which had once belonged to bodies, burned and torn,
scattered around me.
Suddenly I stopped. In front of me lay all that remained of a young girl, maybe 10 years old.
Her head and part of her upper torso lay where they had been thrown by the explosion, and
only God knew where she had died. Her skin was black and blistered, and her hair almost
gone. Her sightless, lifeless, eyes stared accusingly at the sky. I fell to my knees and
cradled her in my arms, weeping. Abruptly the scene went completely black, and all sound
vanished.
Only when he began to remove the earpieces did I remember here I was. As he removed
the helmet, I glared at Builder with tear filled eyes. My voice raw with emotion, the best I
could manage was a hoarse whisper. “What… in… the… HELL… was… that?” To this day, I
think that the only reason I didn’t kill him was that I still saw that little girl in front of me.
Somehow, probably through the talents of his wife, Ishmael realized exactly what was
happening. Rising from his seat, he laid a restraining hand on my shoulder, and spoke in a
low voice. “What happened was not his fault. We have, all of us, looked at what you just
saw. It affected all of us differently, but no less intensely than it did you. Give yourself a
couple of minutes to recover, my friend.” With that, he helped Builder gather the machine
and take it back out to the table. When he returned, he was carrying a beer. Grinning when
he saw my face, he commented, “After what you just went through, I thought you may need
something stronger than water. I know I did.”
Gratefully, I accepted it. As he crossed over to his seat, I realized he had also brought
glasses of water out for himself and the Dark Lady. We sat in silence for several minutes as
I regained control of my emotions. When I was finally able to speak and think coherently, I
asked for an explanation.
The Lady shifted in her seat, leaning forward slightly. “I do not fully know what you saw, for
certain events at the end shift depending on your actions. However, what I do know is you
saw my prophecy made real. In the prophecy I spoke of the Games Master. That, as you saw,
is Mr. Linderman. Far from being what he has worked so tirelessly to promote himself as,
he is a cunning, vicious man. He will stop at nothing to accomplish those ends which he
alone knows,
“I spoke of the Brother of Flight and the Brother of Power. Those are the Petrelli brothers.
Nathan, the Brother of Flight, is gifted with the power of flight. His younger brother, Peter,
is the Brother of Power. He has the potential of being the greatest of us all, for his is the
gift of absorbing our abilities and making them his own. What he takes does in no way
diminish those from whom he takes, but it increases him each time. For reasons which
remain partly unclear, Linderman desires that Nathan be in power. Peter has his own role to
play, but that role is as yet undefined.
“Of the two evils I spoke of, one has not yet made his move. The other has been given a
name; Sylar. That name is known in limited circles, but it is known. He has his own part to
play, as does Peter. The prophecy was unclear, but it would appear that one or the other of
them will be the cause of the explosion.”
I interrupted, incredulous at what was being suggested. “You’re trying to tell me that the
explosion will be the result of one man just randomly blowing up? That’s not only
impossible, it’s completely crazy!”
Ishmael chuckled, “As impossible as a man who can manipulate light? As crazy as a woman
who can read future? We live in a new world, my friend. The old rules no longer hold true, if
they ever did.”
Leaving me to think on that, the Dark Lady continued. “Kirby Plaza is the place where it will
happen. I do not fully see, at this time, why it will happen, but that is the place. The
explosion will destroy fully half of the city’s people.”
Chapter 1, Part 5: The Prophecy
By Chris Ward
After that last comment, Builder slipped the earpieces into place, and left me completely
deaf and blind.
The blindness faded first. I found myself flying over New York City. As I flew over a single
skyscraper, I quite suddenly crashed down through the roof.
The voice of the Dark Lady cut in, speaking in the rolling, oratorical cadence I remembered
from her proclamation of her identity and raison d'etre. “The plans of the Games Master are
set. His pieces are assembled and in motion.” During this, I was thrown down through the
floors until I came face to face with a man I recognized as Mr. Linderman. He was laughing
as he stared out the window, over my shoulder.
Suddenly I was spun about and given a glimpse of what he was looking at. “The Brother of
Flight seeks that which is beyond him. Yet, the Games Master will ensure it is obtained.” I
watched as a Congressional candidate Nathan Petrelli flew across the skyline, struggling
against something I could not see, in an attempt to reach a building in the distance. I
glanced down and saw a graph splashed across the buildings below him. It appeared to
contain polling data, and clearly showed him losing. I looked again, and realized that the
building Petrelli was struggling so hard to reach was the House of Representatives. At that
moment, the laughter from Mr. Linderman doubled in intensity. As if that were a signal, the
numbers began to change. The change began with agonizing slowness, but rapidly gained
in momentum until the numbers were a blur. As the change progressed, the flying grew
easier for Petrelli, and the House grew closer. By the time the numbers stopped changing,
he had clearly won the election. He alighted on the front steps of the House and,
straightening his tie, walked inside.
The scene went black and then focused in on a pair of shadowy, menacing specters.
Although one was much larger than the other, it was the smaller figure that was in motion.
“Sufficient unto the day is the Evil thereof. There are 2 evils abroad in the world; the
Greater Evil and the Lesser evil. However, the Lesser Evil is the only one who has taken or
will yet take a hand in the events that are in motion.”
I watched as the smaller figure approached a young man. Unaware of his presence, the man
reached out a hand and brought a coffee cup, from across the scene, toward him. “The
Lesser Evil is in search of the Variants. He seeks that which makes them different, and he
desires to take it. In taking it, he desires to make it his own.” I watched in horror as the dark
figure swelled to unimaginable size and loomed over the young man. As a wave crashes
onto the beach, the figure fell over the man. When he moved again, I could barely make out
the body of the man, laying dead. The figure raised one menacing hand, and the cup arose
from beside the deceased. With a convulsive clenching, the figure closed his hand and the
cup shattered. As he stalked away, I once again took a flight over the city.
I landed near the fountain in Kirby Plaza. “In the belly of the Sleepless Giant lies the
Fountain of the Winding Stair. It is here that the Brother of Power shall come face to face
with the Lesser Evil.” I watched as a young gentleman, whom I vaguely recognized from a
press conference as Nathan’s younger brother Peter, walked in from my left. I was briefly
distracted by a fluttering paper on the ground which declared “Petrelli Wins.” When I
looked again, Peter was most of the way to the fountain, and then he stopped. H was
staring at a dark figure which entered from the opposite side. As they stood, framing the
sculpture in the fountain, the scene exploded out to a wide shot of New York City.
The Dark Lady’s voice had been the same throughout, but it suddenly took on a stricken
tone, as if she had glimpsed a tragedy she could barely handle. “From the Fountain of the
Winding Stair there shall come a flame bearing with it death and destruction. An explosion
such as has not been seen in the world of men. And it shall decimate the Sleeping Giant,
this fire from its belly. Of its body, much shall be destroyed. Of its life, the greater part will
be extinguished.”
In growing horror I watched as, while she was still saying this, the entire world went
blindingly white. From the Plaza came a towering inferno. All sound, save that of the Lady,
was lost as a deep bass note sounded, swallowed by the sound of an explosion. As the
inferno continued to raise and expand, the mushroom cloud towered over the earth.
As the sound of the initial explosion faded, it was replaced by sounds which were no less
intense. The shattering of glass and the sound of building collapsing as the pressure wave
expanded combined with the roar of the expanding flames. After what felt like an eternity,
but could only have been a matter of minutes, the explosive flames receded. As they did
so, I was forced to keep pace. They left behind them a smoking, burning ruin. As I reached
Ground Zero, what had once been Kirby Plaza, there was nothing left. What little had not
been simply removed from the area by the force of the explosion was burned, melted and
twisted until recognition was impossible. There were still a bare handful of buildings whose
ribs remained standing. They were twisted reminders of the devastation, blackened fingers
reaching for hope that had fled.
I found myself walking through the streets that had, until recently, been teeming with life.
Now they were filled only with death. My ears were filled with the discordant cacophony of
crackling flames, collapsing buildings, shrieking sirens and the shrill screams of the
wounded and the dying.
As I moved along the streets, randomly weaving my way through the destruction, I was
acutely aware of the ash flowing around me. Unfortunately, it did not blind me. I was able to
see the bodies, as well as the refuse which had once belonged to bodies, burned and torn,
scattered around me.
Suddenly I stopped. In front of me lay all that remained of a young girl, maybe 10 years old.
Her head and part of her upper torso lay where they had been thrown by the explosion, and
only God knew where she had died. Her skin was black and blistered, and her hair almost
gone. Her sightless, lifeless, eyes stared accusingly at the sky. I fell to my knees and
cradled her in my arms, weeping. Abruptly the scene went completely black, and all sound
vanished.
Only when he began to remove the earpieces did I remember here I was. As he removed
the helmet, I glared at Builder with tear filled eyes. My voice raw with emotion, the best I
could manage was a hoarse whisper. “What… in… the… HELL… was… that?” To this day, I
think that the only reason I didn’t kill him was that I still saw that little girl in front of me.
Somehow, probably through the talents of his wife, Ishmael realized exactly what was
happening. Rising from his seat, he laid a restraining hand on my shoulder, and spoke in a
low voice. “What happened was not his fault. We have, all of us, looked at what you just
saw. It affected all of us differently, but no less intensely than it did you. Give yourself a
couple of minutes to recover, my friend.” With that, he helped Builder gather the machine
and take it back out to the table. When he returned, he was carrying a beer. Grinning when
he saw my face, he commented, “After what you just went through, I thought you may need
something stronger than water. I know I did.”
Gratefully, I accepted it. As he crossed over to his seat, I realized he had also brought
glasses of water out for himself and the Dark Lady. We sat in silence for several minutes as
I regained control of my emotions. When I was finally able to speak and think coherently, I
asked for an explanation.
The Lady shifted in her seat, leaning forward slightly. “I do not fully know what you saw, for
certain events at the end shift depending on your actions. However, what I do know is you
saw my prophecy made real. In the prophecy I spoke of the Games Master. That, as you saw,
is Mr. Linderman. Far from being what he has worked so tirelessly to promote himself as,
he is a cunning, vicious man. He will stop at nothing to accomplish those ends which he
alone knows,
“I spoke of the Brother of Flight and the Brother of Power. Those are the Petrelli brothers.
Nathan, the Brother of Flight, is gifted with the power of flight. His younger brother, Peter,
is the Brother of Power. He has the potential of being the greatest of us all, for his is the
gift of absorbing our abilities and making them his own. What he takes does in no way
diminish those from whom he takes, but it increases him each time. For reasons which
remain partly unclear, Linderman desires that Nathan be in power. Peter has his own role to
play, but that role is as yet undefined.
“Of the two evils I spoke of, one has not yet made his move. The other has been given a
name; Sylar. That name is known in limited circles, but it is known. He has his own part to
play, as does Peter. The prophecy was unclear, but it would appear that one or the other of
them will be the cause of the explosion.”
I interrupted, incredulous at what was being suggested. “You’re trying to tell me that the
explosion will be the result of one man just randomly blowing up? That’s not only
impossible, it’s completely crazy!”
Ishmael chuckled, “As impossible as a man who can manipulate light? As crazy as a woman
who can read future? We live in a new world, my friend. The old rules no longer hold true, if
they ever did.”
Leaving me to think on that, the Dark Lady continued. “Kirby Plaza is the place where it will
happen. I do not fully see, at this time, why it will happen, but that is the place. The
explosion will destroy fully half of the city’s people.”
