1 The Decent

The tower was always there from the dawn of time till the end of everything. Near the top of the tower, an elderly man sits enjoying the sights below him. This man is the current and only god his bloodline has ever produced, the God of Death was his tittle. Reminiscing about the times when he was mortal he's interrupted by the cry of a child.

In an underground lab, a group of researchers in hazmat suits surround a dying young pregnant girl as an aura of death surrounds the room, the delivery starts. Many years ago they made the first artificial god by surrounding a pregnant woman, with the death bloodline, in death energy and splicing other bloodlines into her child.

A similar experiment is happening many years later while trying to add another strong bloodline into the mix. The delivery is successful, but as the child lets out its first breath the mother lets out her last and the death energy in the room peaks. The mother's violin starts playing on its own to soothe the child's cries.

Loud sirens and red lights flash through the lab as well as a violin solo and a baby's cries. The men in hazmats all fall dead on the ground with blood flowing out their ears. A robotic voice comes over the intercom, "CODE BLACK: GOD LEVEL INTRUDER."

The screams and cries of adult men and women being slaughtered overlap the soft soothing sound of a violin, the cries of a baby, and the alarm. After a while, all that's left is the cries of the baby the violin, and the alarm.

It stays this way for a while till the sound of footsteps comes closer to where the child was delivered. Upon opening the door a sigh can be heard.

"I'm sorry my granddaughter I came too late, to think I'd lose you and my grandson to the same psychos that made me what I am. I promise that I'll protect your son as though he was my own."

After saying his piece the old man picks up the child and the violin that stoped playing at soon as he picked up the child. Covering up his granddaughter with a sheet nearby he walks out of the room past countless corpses.

The child in his arms no longer crying and the violin silent the only sounds now are his wet footsteps though pools of blood, the alarm, and the occasional laughter from the baby in his arms.