Prequel of "The Legend of the Sky-Titans: Son of Alpha"; A league of assassins, The Sixth of Men targets The Badge of Alpha, a badge of raw power created by the Elder Gods of the Annunaqui to reawaken an ancient evil. Mopy, the Son of Alpha, with a cloudy past joins forces with a bubbly Zeta, Stringy to rescue his mom when the assassins traps her soul in a magical vile.
It was a stormy day on the outskirts of Ghorgemire. The year was 1995 in the darkness. It was empty and eerie in the quiet little town; a gas station remained steadfast, standing there with its ghostly clank. Winds flew by, rocking the haunting sign.
By the sign that reads, "Welcome to Ghorgemire, Alabama – The Happiest, Joyous Place on Earth" (it's a bit more grim than joyous), a portal opened up. It crackled and roared; the vortex rapidly spun around, separating it in a blue-white light. As electricity crackled in the portal, out was a woman wearing black, tight clothing; her shirt exposed some of her cleavage.
The woman grunted in pain as she made a hard landing to the ground. She spat out blood and phlegm from her body, bones aching from a brutal battle, the fatal fracas were gruesome. The grimaced woman stood up, carrying her sobbing baby. The woman got up and turned around and saw the portal collapsing, growing unstable until – BOOM! The portal went out with a bang.
The woman shielded her newborn child, still crying in the darkness of the "peaceful town". She held her baby, and faced it.
"Hush now," she said softly, "Everything will be okay, I promise."
The baby continues to sob; the woman carefully rocks the baby, lulling it to sleep.
"Twinkle, twinkle little star…" she sang in a euphonious, sonorous tone in her voice, "…how I wonder where you are."
She frantically delves to find a dry place for them both.
"Up above so here so high…"
The woman finally spotted a dark trailer yonder. She continues singing softly to her sleeping baby as the rain pours down upon them, wetting them both.
"Twinkle, twinkle little star…" – CRACK! Her knee shattered forcing her to fall to the ground, nearly dropping the baby. She held on to her child steadfast, and when she hit the wet ground, she broke the baby's fall.
Thunder clapped in the darkened, stormy skies.
The baby begins to cry as thunder clapped again, shaking the skies above. The woman grunted and groaned. Her eyebrows squinted and panted angrily. She got up, fighting her immense pain, she walked to the trailer with her shattered knee, fighting it off despite of her injuries.
"…how I wonder," she said sonorously but in pain. She was beginning to lose her breath.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. Her heart rate slowed down. She walks to the porch, panting.
"Where….you….," she collapsed to the ground.
The baby cried on the woman's arms. The woman sees the baby crying and begins to sob as well. Tears snaked down on her cheeks as her heart rate slowed.
"I'm very sorry," she said, voice breaking into tears, "I'm so very sorry, my baby."
She pulled out a small white box from her pockets with a small note stapled on the front lid.
"Don't forget who you are," she said with a dying tone in her tone.
As the baby sobs in the silent rain, the woman takes her last breath and soon passed away.
Suddenly, the porch lights came on. There was a faint crackle from the door; it opened and it revealed an old woman. The old woman named Mary. She was in her early 60s. She was rotund in stature and wore a flowery night-gown and a hair net.
She hears a faint cry from the baby. She looked down and became horrified at the grotesque sight of the baby crying in the arms of a deceased woman.
"Oh my goodness," she said. She grabbed the phone and dialed the police. She answered the operator on the other line, and finally in the middle of her report, she glanced at the baby again and the woman.
"Can you give me the paramedics, and child services?" she asked picking up the baby, and reading the note which reads: α - When the sky falls and the heavens filter, call upon thee to make the light shine over death.
She took one look at the baby and rocks it to sleep, assuaging it. She uncovered the turquoise blanket, revealing the baby - it was a boy.
"I'll take of you, Mopy," she said. She looked at the dead woman lying on her porch and rubbed her left cheeks.
Deep within the prison isolated from the world lived the world's oldest dangerous criminal of all of humanity rotting in his cell. No light shone the cold, dark cell except from the dim light of the room itself. He sits on the bench across from the door with his head down covering himself in a long, thin sheet of rotting cloth.
Outside of his cell were two male guards. Both wore brown tucked in shirts, brown khaki pants, brown belts with a golden buckle, and black shoes, but one was bigger than the other. The beefy guard slides the food through a small slot of the cell door.
"Chow time, freak," he said.
The man ate and ate until there was nothing left.
Meanwhile outside the cell, the smaller guard felt bad for the criminal. So he began to ask the bigger guard to shed some light for him and talk to him because it had been years since he had any human interaction. They argued about it at first, but then came to conclusion that the weedy guard had made up his mind and that he will open it. Disagreeing about his choice, the big guard prevents him from unlocking the cell and warns him about the people who ever go in there, even for a few moments.
"How old is this guy?" asked the smaller guard, "It had been decades since he had any human contact."
"Well according to him, decades are the new days, meaning by that 90 are the new 20," said the big guard.
"At least let me talk to him for a minute," said the small guard, "It's only a few minutes, how much harm can he possibly do in a minute. I mean c'mon he's 90. 90! This man has nothing to live for anymore. Just trust me on this, Ralph."
"C'mon, man," the small guard said. The big guard gave in and sighed.
"Alright, fine go. But only a minute with that psycho," he said.
"Sure," said the small guard as he opened the door and revealed the man living in the dark. The man was very elderly. He had white facial hair, and was extremely feeble. The small guard had some doubts by why he was as a dangerous criminal. He doesn't look so bad, well bad enough anyway.
"Hi, I'm Harold. I'm the new guy here in these parts. How are you doing?" asked the small guard named Harold offering his hand of friendship.
"Feeble, feeble," he moaned feebly, "decades of neglect left me here to rot in this prison cell like metal in the ocean sitting on the bed as the critters settle in. I am known as a dangerous soul for something I need. Something that strengths me more than just this utter waste of garbage this prison had fed me for years."
"Like what exactly?" asked the small guard, "What exactly do you need?"
The old man turned his head to the small guard but not acknowledging the scowling and scoffing big guard.
He grabs the small guard by the neck and pulls him to his face. The big guard pulls out a guy and aims it at the old man demanding him to let him go.
"Life's energy," he said as he began to suck the life force out of the small guard rendering him to age rapidly before he became nothing but dust. The old man stood up with all the strength that he stole from the small guard. The big guard opened rounds of bullets at the old man but soon realized that the old man began to age backwards retaining some of his power. One of them actually is the power untouched by deadly bullets. He grabbed the bullet that flew in the air and gave a smug evil look at the frightened, armed guard now out of bullets. He took a deep breath and said to the big guard, "Nothing is complete without a balanced breakfast, if you know what I'm saying," he chuckled evilly before he grabbed the big guard and sucked him dry retaining some more of his abilities.
He walks out of his former cell chuckling devilishly as he heads straight to the surface to get what he lost.