Prologue: The Waxen Wings

fiction by Grenzenlos

It was a very simple dream that drove our ancestors to the stars. It's hard for the average man to understand the difference between simplicity and weakness at times, but it is often the simplest of desires, which are the strongest. And it was the simple desire for a new start which drove a quarter million humans and reploids to the stars on cerulean wings.

Into what must have felt like the deepest, coldest and most inhospitable reaches of space they flew, waiting, always waiting. Until one day they could see... See the New Horizon of the garden paradise spread out before them like the Promised Land.

And for a time, it was a promised land. After the sturdy vessel, the Icarus, sat down upon the surface and was dismantled to create their new homes, the landing was followed by an unprecedented period of tranquility, growth and peace.

After an all too brief period of sweet innocent bliss, the nightmares everyone thought had been left behind on Earth floated to the surface of their tranquil dream. Bigotry, and hatred rose to the surface of several reploid minds, and the word 'Maverick' rose to everyone lips. And all at once, it seemed, the innocent dream was shattered.

The drums of war were sounded, and it seemed the prosperity would continue, even in the absence of the innocence that had been so cruelly stolen away. The Mavericks were easily beaten back, and humanity safeguarded. It was a task that while unpleasant, was almost too easy.

Eventually, it was decided that a whole new race of reploid, designed not only to defeat their opponents, but to safeguard humanity as a whole needed to be created. These reploids were called the Osmosis Types.

These angels of mercy were able to remotely interact with the DNA souls of other reploid, and coax accurate confession from them, as well as safely disposing of infected DNA souls by taking them into themselves, and dissolving it within their own, empowering themselves in the process, so the loss of life for even the enemies of mankind would not be in vain.

But even though these angels of mercy were initially successful, their own wings, as waxen as everyone else's, soon dissolved. Succumbing to the very madness of their opponents, they became the thing they feared most. Soon, it seemed, paradise would be lost.

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