Out on the ocean,
There is a city
With buildings tall
And riches plenty.
Ringed by water
And fueled by fire,
A voided being deemed it worthy
Of hosting Its latest pyre.
But, instead, It finds
A different treasure:
That of fun, friendship,
And a home forever.
The city is quiet.
Umbra smiles as he gazes upon it. His cobalt eyes are soft and warm, reflecting the dim light of the moon above him. His hair, a deeper blue, is too coarse to be well lit by the satellite’s low lighting.
But this doesn’t bother him; the dullness of his hair matches his suit and the shadows on his azure skin, helping him blend into the darkness of the night—his night.
It especially doesn’t bother him when a literal meteorite soars into Unity, cackling the entire way.
The city is screaming.
Dozens of civilians are running away from the wreckage as the news media quickly rushes towards it. Large television screens are blaring warnings, evacuation protocols, mental health advice, and questioning why no astronomer warned the city council about this approaching disaster.
Umbra guesses he’d be asking that, too, if he hadn’t heard the thing laughing.
His only question is: who just entered his city?
The city is cleared; sans the media, Umbra, and the… Thing.
The giggling is louder, now, and echoing around them. It ricochets off the surrounding buildings and runs chills up all their spines. The hero glances at the camera closest to him and watches the handler zoom in.
There’s a figure inside the flames.
It’s small and warbling—probably from the intense heat. It glows more fiercely than the fire surrounding it—as though it’s made of something even hotter. Its mouth is a gaping maw of plasma and its body spits arching rays of itself onto the nearby concrete—and also back onto itself.
It’s like the sun itself just crash landed on their planet.
Or, at least, a part of it.
The city is hissing, crackling, and popping.
The being laughs as It spreads Its arm, sending a wave of plasma towards a nearby building. The metal catches fire, burning bright and melting. It repeats the action, appearing amused, until the whole spire is downed.
It claps with glee.
Umbra frowns, remembering the state of the city when he first came (read: fell) to it. There was panic and screaming, then, too; and about as much fire and heat. But he’s certain he didn’t cause this much destruction. Or fire.
He doesn’t really do fire.
Unity doesn’t do fire, either. Nor do its people. And Umbra is their sworn protector.
He will pay them back for accepting him.
Determined, the blue-haired hero makes his way towards the Thing. He waves the media back, hoping to keep them safe and away from whatever this Thing is, while keeping a wary eye on… It.
It stops pulling molten metal from the former building long enough to gaze back.
At least, he’s pretty sure It does; it’s really hard to tell: It emits so much light, Umbra finds it difficult to understand Its details, where Its hands are, or the shape of Its face. It doesn’t even seem to produce shadows; rather, things like Its chin are defined by the temperature at which it burns: the closer to the Thing’s core a part of It is, the hotter and therefore bluer the color; the farther it is from Its core, the cooler and thus yellower it appears.
The two contracting and dilating circles near the top of the creature’s form appear to be pupils; sort of.
Unsure what exactly he’s dealing with, and thoroughly confused by the fact that it looks as though It’s playing, Umbra tries a peaceful approach; he doesn’t want this Thing causing more damage to Unity than it already has. “Hello. Welcome to Unity. I’m Umbra. You are?”
The Thing expands and plumes with flames as it appears to laugh at him, “Do you usually welcome enemies so warmly?”
Ignoring the cringe worthy pun, Umbra blinks in surprise. It can talk. That must mean It’s not really alien. Intrigued, the cobalt-eyed hero steps forward, “You don’t have to be an enemy. You came from the sky. All things falling from such heights bring fire upon the world.” He knows he did.
But It just blinks, baffled, “… I just melted one of your buildings… and you think I come in peace???”
Umbra shrugs, “It is still possible.” He gestures at the puddle of steel in Its palm that’s burning hot but not enough to evaporate—which is strange because this Thing looks like It’d be hot enough to do that, “Especially since it looks like you just made yourself a toy.”
The inside of the creature’s mouth is blue.
Umbra can tell because It’s gaping at him. They stare at each other for a long moment and the hero is grateful he is not human: looking at this literal tiny star would have destroyed his eyes by now.
Speaking of: he really hopes the media people are keeping their own peepers safe.
Suddenly, the flaring happens again, this time louder. A small shockwave joins the plumage as the Thing expresses Its amusement, moving to stand with Its feet firmly planted in the ground and hands at Its sides, palms up and holding gaseous flames, “You are naïve. I bring no peace, child. Only fire and light.”
Umbra nods, calm and rather unimpressed by the intimidating tactic when the performer is so small, “Yes, I can see that; we all can; but that really just makes you Prometheus.”
A snort sounds from behind the hero, but he doesn’t turn to look. The flame creature just stares at him, apparently stunned to silence. Umbra wonders if that means It knows their world’s myths. Interesting.
“Would you like a tour?”
The Thing splutters. It’s actually rather amusing and Umbra has to remind himself that a good portion of the city is melting because of this Thing simply being here. After another flare up, this one appearing to be born of irritation, the creature roars, “A TOUR‽ NO! I would NOT like a TOUR!”
The inhuman man frowns, “Then what would you like?”
Inside of the creature’s mouth are white hot teeth; Umbra notes this as It grins, “Fun.”
The city is howling.
Umbra crouches as another, much bigger shockwave punches past him; it’s followed by a blast of wind. The media crew behind him cries out, having been flung backward, and the hero immediately sprints after them. The skin of his hand goes from azure blue to pitch-black and a shadow erupts from his outstretched palm, encasing the humans in a protective shroud.
He then stretches the shadow and deposits them to safety.
Turning back, he locks gazes with the Thing. It appears surprised.
Then, it looks elated, “Ooooh; you will do nicely.”
Confused, Umbra makes to ask what It means. He doesn’t get to; before a sound can leave his mouth, the Thing is upon him, flames licking his chest and face. The burning blues of Its eyes are mesmerising, and Umbra has a relative moment to decide Its irises are, in fact, red-orange before a claw-like hand is whipping his face around. He pivots on the balls of his feet to avoid falling and then blinks at the burning sensation in his face; strange: shadows shouldn’t be able to burn…
He leaps back, away from the creature, and holds up his hands to try and calm It.
It attacks him again before he can try to speak. There’s a grin on Its face, almost childlike in its glee, and Umbra feels his gut sink as it dons on him: this is most likely a being of chaos and calamity; something that exists for the sole purpose of causing pain and panic; a riot that cannot be reasoned with.
There’s no avoiding it then.
Fine: he’ll just have to put out the flames.