Upon their first appearance on the fringe worlds, the angels were welcomed with open arms.

The first one appeared on an agriculture world which fed the rest of the star system present. Records show no name for the planet, but it is now collectively referred to as Eden. Usually, news travelling from the fringe worlds moved towards the more established and core worlds very slowly, sometimes with lethal slowness as whole systems starved to death, or were cut off by various special phenomena, or enslaved by pirates or worse. But the news of the arrival of the angel moved with a speed that even the government could envy. And if that hadnt been a mark of the importance of what was happening on Eden, then I dont know what was. So, being the man that I am, a journalist and newsman, I read the data shard placed on my desk, looked at my boss several times to make sure this wasnt a joke. Finding that it wasnt, I asked what I was to do: the boss, in his stoic, straight-backed manner, slapped a heavy package on my desk, and a ticket on top of that. He said few words: The government wants to know whats up. Give it to em. I took the package, left the office, went home, took out my oldest scotch and slammed back a few glasses before I packed my bags, and got on my ship. Destination, Eden. The ship I was in was nothing special: it smelled like piss and recycled air, the food tasted of piss and recycled nutrients, and the beds smelled of piss and recycled materials. In general, the trip was a long two months, which I met no one whom I would want to meet again, everything smelled of piss or worse, and even the drinks were piss. I recall one evening wanting to drink piss because it would probably be stronger than the stuff the ships food services were supplying us. I overheard rumors of a man below decks see, the parts of the ship where services happen: drugs, killings, prostitutes, whatever you wanted made a very strong, very good beverage coined Frisky. I was determined to find anything that was stronger than the shit being served in myposhdining facilities and bar. So I made my first, but not my biggest, mistake on the trip. Going below decks is harder than it sounds: there are ratings on the deck whose singular job is to make sure that passengers dont go below, and that the scum that inhabit the bowels of the ship dont come up. I guess they then have two jobs, but I digress. I had to either pay my way down, and then back up, assuming I lived to come back up, or I had to sneak down, and up. Feeling adventurous, but not too adventurous, I did what any sensible, mid-high class citizen would do. I paid that rating three months of his monthly wage. Which was like a week to what I made, if I wasnt trying. Getting below decks was like walking into a different world: the air was more piss-filled, it burnt the nostrils. The ground wasnt cleaned, or not often. The lights were also dim, it was hard for me to adjust at first. But, following directions I had retrieved from a particularly loudmouthed crewman, I found myself in front of a large, steel door with a sliding hatch at eye level. I brushed myself off, somewhat nervous. I knocked on the steel door, and the eye-hatch slid over: all I could see were a pair of beady, red eyes: they were cybernetics. Cheap, by the buzzing sound coming off them. A gruff voice sounded out, What chu wan? Frisky, I replied, as I flashed an award winning smile. The eye hatch slammed shut. I could hear the sounds of locks moving on the other side. The stuff is that desired you need that man- Before I could finish the sentence, a large arm flashed out of the door,

grabbing me by the throat, and pulled me into the darkness of the room beyond. Pain shot up my back as my arms were pulled up behind my back, and then my head was slammed against the wall as the door was slammed shut and the locks fell back into place. A few more blows fell upon me from an unseen assailant, and I was forcibly slapped around a bit before I realized I was roughly being checked for weapons. A grunt of satisfaction was made, and I was thrown into a steel chair. A blinding light turned on and was shown into my face, causing me to flinch and turn away. Rough hands grabbed my face and pushed my head back into the light. Now, what chu wan? I din hear whacha saad. Catching my breath, and swallowing deeply, already feeling bruises develop on my head, I chokingly stuttered, Fr-fr-frisky. Sir. Fr-Frisky. I heard it was good. Laughter sounded all around me, honest to god laughing. Here is me, nearly pissing myself in fear, having been beaten around by who knows who, sitting with a blinding light in my face, and people think its time to laugh? The same gruff voice spoke out, Well then, ye came to the right place, lad. First round is about to start. The light moved away from me, and focused on the table before me. Looking around as my eye adjusted, there were about 20 people around a room, 5 others seated at the same round table I found myself seated in. To my left was a woman, with a shaved head and obvious augmentation on the back of her head. She looked like she could wrestle a Deathball player to the ground and win. The man to my left looked to be about my age, but his eyesdead-eyes. He was either a cold-blooded killer, or a was so burnt out on drugs that he couldnt feel anything anymore. Across from me, an older man, gray beard and several facial scars. Next to him was another woman, slim, very pretty, and she was obviously eyeing me up. I tried to flash her a smile, but I didnt feel confident in this situation. On his other side, a man if I could call it that who was mostly cybernetics, more machine than man. What could be seen of his face, about half of his lips up to his left eye to his scalp, looked warm and friendly, and he smiled (as much as possible, I might add) as I looked at him. Everyone else was looking at the table: and as I looked upon the table, my gut suddenly dropped. There were 6 scratched glasses with a liquid in it, and a 6 chamber handcannon, with 5 charges in a case next to it. A voice from behind me addressed everyone in the room: a younger man, wearing heavily stitched up clothing, theatrically bowed, and in playful voice said, Welcome one and all to Frisky. The only place where you can find a drink that will be the best tasting one on the entire ship. Now, lets introduce this rounds competitors: Before me sits a man who just came in here, sir, what is your name? Auric, I respond. Ah, AURIC, everyone, is from above decks, and must have obviously been craving something better. Hes in for quite a shock, eh? Chuckles from around the room. Next, we have Elize, the wonderous woman of the weapondocks, and then we have the proverbial mechnomancer, who can repair any broken object. The mostly robotic man stood, unseen mechanical parts whirring and ticking as he bowed slightly and sat don again. And then we have old Greybeard. You all know him. Enough. And beside him, another guest from above decks. The Lady of Stinsons and Grads, we bow before your royalty. And then, the champion of Friskys, our dear friend Isaahk. Die already, would ya, people have lost FORTUNES on you. Hahaha. Well, the rules, for those of you who dont know, are simple: I will load that beaut of a handcannon with 5 charges, leaving one chamber empty: it will be passed around the table to each contestant, and they will pull the trigger: if they win, they get a drink, if not, well, they get thrown out the airlock. And HERE WE GO.

He picked up the handcannon, loaded the five charges, and spun the chamber section of the gun. He then placed it on the table, and spun it: it spun furiously, and time seemed to slow. I thought it was about to land on me, but it stopped on Elize, next to me. The room went quiet: she picked up the gun, put the barrel against the side of her head, and pulled the trigger. It took a moment for my ears to start to ring to realize that the gun had gone off: I had flinched, shut my eyes in preparation, but the shot going off in the small compartment nearly deafened me. Blood, bone and other fluids had splattered on my, but the mechnomancer had gotten the most of the splash: he seemed to be laughing, but I couldnt hear. He then picked up the gun, spun the chamber, and put it against his head, and pulled the trigger. Again: I was surprised by the bang, but instead of blood and bone, a thick black liquid sprayed out of his head with metallic bits, and he continued to laugh. He put the gun down, his half-face smiling, as he placed a straw in his drink and began to drink. Cheating. I said, That has to be cheating, doesnt it?. Everyone who could still hear as I veritably yelled that began to laugh. Greybeard just grunted, picked up the gun, spun the chamber and lifted the handcannon to his head. He pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. He grunted, and shot the entire glass back in one gulp. He wiped his arm across his face, and then handed the gun to the Lady. She straight up refused. She said no. I couldnt heard her say no, but I saw her lips make the motion, and the look of terror in her eyes as we shared the same look. The younger man who had introduced us all moved behind her, and said something I couldnt hear, and Greybeard insisted, almost urgently, that she take the gun. She still refused. The younger man sighed, looked disappointed, and theatrically turning to everyone else in the room, he spun around a bit. I then realized he had another gun in his hand, and he shot the Lady in the back of the head. Again, I found myself splattered in fluids. Just what had I gotten myself into? The gun was then handed to Isaahk. He looked bored, but I could start to see in his eyes a faint glow of excitement. This sick fuck was getting excited over watching people die. I was starting to get angry when it struck me that it wasnt watching other people die that was getting him excited: it was that he was coming within a breaths space from dying and had a chance to survive. He smiled at me as he saw that I knew: he put the barrel in his mouth with the most joyful look on his face, and he pulled the trigger. This time, I heard the click. His face suddenly fell, the light retracting from his eyes, as almost like how a child throws down something that they are holding whent heya re upset, he tossed the handcannon onto the table. He almost dissapointingly took the drink in front of him and sunk it all into his mouth. I lifted up the handcannon, its weight greater than I anticipated. Looking nervously about the room, I spun the chamber. I put the gun to my head, and I pulled the trigger, expecting to hear a boom and then nothing. All I heard was a click, and it is, to this day, the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. Only the angels song comes close, but Im getting ahead of myself. I took my drink after setting the gun down, and I threw it back down my throat in one go. It tasted worse than the stuff above deck, but with my brush with death, it was the sweetest and best thing I had ever tasted. I now knew why these people played this game. Afterwards, everything was so much better, had so much more meaning and value. I was dismayed to find that the game was, however, not yet finished. The mechnomancer picked up the gun, spun the chamber, and once again, blew out his head. This time was different though: still smiling, he placed the gun on the table. He then turned his head, nodding to the young man, before his head slammed into the table and an oil like substance slowly crept out of the huge wound in his head: the whole back of his head was gone, and what was left of his brain could be seen.

Greybeard pushed the dead body off the gun, and it fell from the table. He picked up the gun, and continued the repertoire. Again, a click. Isaahk picked it up, and yet again, a click. I picked up the gun, noticing that Isaahk was looking at the body of the Lady with envy. I leaned over, and asked, Do you want to die that badly? He turned to me, nodding gravely. I then made my biggest mistake on the trip. I put the gun to his head and several things happened at once: I pulled the trigger, and a deafening boom rang out: Isaahks head disappeared, but the look of pure joy on his face was all that was seen before it was transformed into a bloody mess; the young man pulled a gun on me, as greybeard pulled a gun on him, and several other people pulled weapons out. Blood was on the air, and everyone wanted some. Greybeard threw the table up as he shot up and put several gunshots into the ypunger man, and several other shots rang out. The table flew into me, and threw me into the ground with the table on top of me. For a few blitzing seconds, all that could be heard were gunshots, and then silence. After a little fidgeting, I was able to push the table off of me, it was a pretty heavy table. I stood up, brushed myself off expecting to see a bunch of people, but all that greeted me were dead bodies: everyone was dead; either from gun shot wounds or other more barbaric means. I could dimly hear a slight ringing and thought it was my ears. It wasnt until the door with the multiple locks shot off its hinges and went flying across the room to crush a body leaning against the wall that I realized I was in deep, deep shit. Stepping through the door was a red figure. Wearing armor which was reminiscent of medieval knights but much more advanced, with a shield to match, and a shotgun with a barrel magazine, it slammed the shield into the ground, removing a head from a corpse, as the knight swung the shotgun barrel til it was pointing at me. I immediately threw my arms into the air, as another knight stepped into the room, and with a stick pointed at me: I realized it could be giving me orders, so I shouted, I cannot hear anything, please, I cant hear anything. The knight swiftly moved up to me, and punched me in the stomach and I fell to my knees. It grabbed my arms, and pinning them behind my back, threw some handcuffs on me and dragging me to my feet, pulled me out of the room. Two more knights stood outside the door, one in black armor, the other in white. The black ones right arm was a series of cybernetics, sensors and readouts, with a central screen: it pointed it at me, and then nodded, and moved into the room. The white knight lead the way as I was dragged out of the hallway, and through a series of elevators to another part of the ship. I was thrown into a room with a mirror, a table and chair. Alone, I recognized an interrogation room, Id been in them before. I picked myself up, and sat in the chair. I waited for a few hours before the door opened, and the white knight walked into the room. His footsteps were heavy due to his armor, and he lifted up his helmet as it detached from the torso. The revealed face was rough: several scars across the lips and right side of his face, a close cropped haircut, and some augmetic jacks on the side of his head. He looked down at me, looking me up and down, and then he grabbed my chin, and made me look him in the eye. Softly, with a voice almost gentle, he said, You were too curious, werent you. You had absolutely no idea just what you were getting into. Well, this time, nobody did. But thats nobodies damn fault. But someone must be held accountable, and youre the only one. So, youre my guy. I tried to say something to defend myself, but all that tumbled out of my mouth were broken sentences and words. Well, reviewing what was done: 14 dead crew members of this ship, 6 voiders, and two passengers were all killed. Did you know any of them? I shook my head numbly, barely able to whisper a no. Hm. Well then. Seeing as you did kill one person, which

sparked the entire event, I have to punish you. But looking at your manifest, and seeing certain markers on it, I am limited as to what I can do. Not for you is terminable justice. So heres what I am going to do. He placed a pad down on table, the readout showing my travel manifest, my passports, everything. He then moved his armored finger to the passport and travel ticket, and he deleted them. You no longer are able to travel legally. Which means upon arriving at this ships destination, the fringe world of FAM162, that being a fringe, agri-world of the m-class planet, the 162 found and colonized by mankind, you will become a permanent resident, or until such a time that your term of punishment has been decided to have been finished, and you become a legal citizen again. Or until your friends in high places decide to bring you back. You are, thus, revoked of your citizenship, and must be confined to quarters except for the designated mealtimes, in which you will be accompanied by one of my knights, as of right now. Leaving your room unattended, trying to throw off, attempting to harm, or prevent one of my knights guarding you will result in a, hm, His eyed glinted with the hopes I would try, More physical and corporeal punishment. As for now, dismissed. You will be brought back to your accommodation. After being forcefully dragged back to my room, receiving only shocked stares and whisperings about what it is I could have done as I was pulled through some of the more public areas of the ship, I changed my clothes and took the hottest shower I could. I wont go into more detail about the travel, suffice to say that I stuck to myself, and did as I was told. Upon landing on Eden, I remember loving the smell on the air. It was the smell of agriculture, wilderness, and freedom. But there was something else too, something aromatic, sometimes sickly sweet. It wasnt always there, but sometimes you caught a waft of it, and it just filled you up and gave you a kind of, I dont know, a boost, a kick. Almost like you took a hit of pure caffeine or a double shot of espresso. It was invigorating. Leaving the shuttle pads was simple enough: I was picked up by some local government people, a tiny man who looked perpetually nervous, and a handful of goons who looked perpetually violent. Fringeworlds are reknown for having brutal governments: either for the peoples safety on an unknown or unsafe world, or because somehow a tyrant rose up to take the place of planetary governor. In this case, it was a mix of both: the planet had some predators whom were as of my arrival on planet, had yet to be truly identified: it wasnt revealed until later that they were local apex predators, terrifying things of chitin and fury. The mess they left behindI had seen a few. Very little is left of their victims. But they were by far not the most terrifying thing on the planet. No, I was introduced to the most terrifying thing on the planet a few days later. I was driven to the govenors palace, where I would be staying, and so too was the angel staying, although we were in separate wings. I so desperately wanted to sneak over there, but after seeing the number of goons at the palace, it would be unlikely that I would get over there or back and they would be far lesskindthan the knight on the ship. I consigned myself to interviews with various people who had seen the angel, including the first person to find it: +Data recording, 4315.09.19. 12:00pm + Auric: Please state your name, occupation, and then we will get into questions. Unknown: Timur Holspi. I am a farmer from west.

Auric: Well, Timur, lets start at the beginning: when and how did you meet this xenophorm? Timur: Angel, mr. Auric, its an angel. And I would be more at ease discussing this if you called it as such. Auric: My apologies, let the record state that xenophorm number 221 has been coined angel for future works and mentions. Precedent: Case files 134, 156, and dozens more, most notable the Stalkers from Cannonberg. Proceed. Timur: Well, it was 4 months ago. I was tending my fields when I had a feeling I was being watched. I looked around, and I saw a figure a distance off. It was just standing there, in my field. I waved it, and got nothing back. Being the frontier that my farm is, I pulled my Rectifier Auric: A locally made shotcannon, .45 calibur with hollow point and explosive rounds. Timur: Yes. I pulled my Rectifier out and slowly approached the figure. It was maybe a hundred feet from me. As I got closer I realized that the figures back was to me, and I also began to get a sense of his size. As I got closer, he turned to me. The most beautiful face I have ever seen. He was smiling, and it was all I needed to know that he wished no harm upon me nor anyone else. I began to cry. I fell to my knees, looking upon him. I then noticed he had these wings, which spread further than he was tall. Auric: Please give an estimate as to height, weight, andwingspan. Timur: eight feet tall at least, maybe nine. Weight is hard to tellhe was floating ofAuric: Repeat, point of clarification, he was what?! Timur: Floating. You know, like, hovering. Like he had an antigrav or was weightless. Auric: Peculiar. Continue: wingspan? Timur: probably ten feet, if not longer. Beautiful white feathered wings. *begins to tear up* Just thinking about it makes me filled with joy. He didnt say a word to me. He just lifted my head up to meet his eyes, and I knew what he wanted. So I brought him home, we would leave for the city the next day, as night is no time to travel. In that time, I talked to him. Finally, after hours of talking, I asked him one question: What is your name?. Auric: His response? Timur: He looked puzzled for a moment, like he was chewing on the concept of having a name. He then put his eyes on me, and I thought I had made a huge mistake. I fell to my knees and begged forgiveness. I had just wronged the most wonderful being I had ever seen. Auric: what did he do? Timur: *laughing* He forgave me. He literally said, I forgive you in the most splendid, perfect voice I have ever heard. I swear, if he sang, people would die of happiness. (editors note: addendum: How close this simple farmer got to the truth of the angels singing is disturbing) Auric: Did he give you a name? Timur: *nodding* Yes. His name is Lucifer, but he said to call him Luc.