Throughout history, the mortal races of the world have always been nothing more than playthings for the immortals; chesspieces, so to speak, for the gods and demons. Ever since the beginning of time, the beginning of the neverending game when the gods created man and the demons corrupted him, have the mortals been faced with a choice; a single choice presented to each individual, to worship the gods, or follow the path of the demons.
Which color chesspiece to become?
At least, this is the theory. Of course, in this time, at this place, there has been a marked lack of physical manifestations of the demonic or godly races; there's no real belief any more, just mindless acceptance. And what would happen should an individual claiming to be a god or demon appear on the streets and demand your unwavering loyalty? Would you laugh at him? Walk away?
What if he could prove it?
Your first reaction would of course be utter disbelief; you'd probably wave off anything he did as a trick, or perhaps some practical joke your friends were in on. And still you'd walk away, but maybe, just maybe you'd begin to doubt your own convictions, your own belief that this sort of thing simply doesn't happen any more.
Maybe it does.
Is it really so hard to believe? After all, mortals have claimed for centuries, for millenia that gods and demons exist, and that in the past they have manifested themselves before us, showing themselves to mortal eyes. Really, you've never had much trouble believing that it may have happened in ancient times, and so many people have had stories of such encounters passed down through generations that they can't possibly all be untrue.
Can they?
But it's ridiculous, of course, to even consider that the nut who's standing on the street corner quietly informing passers-by about the approach of Armageddon and the impending final showdown between good and evil is really a higher being who only now, at the time of lost faith, is showing himself before mortal eyes and truly warning you of the impending end of your existence; he's offering safety during the final days, life after the end of the world, to all who pledge loyalty to him.
Foolishness.
But maybe you look back over your shoulder as you walk away from him, too busy now to stop for even a minute, and maybe you notice that you're not the only one who's ignored him and his warnings; in fact, there's not a soul who stops before him in the street. They're all too busy and too sure that this is just another screwball; after all, this sort of thing just doesn't happen any more.
Not now.
Perhaps you should stop though, if only to humor the fellow; but honestly, you're too far away now to be bothered with returning.
Aren't you?
Well, maybe there's time in your busy schedule for a short break; it's about time you slowed down your hectic life, after all, if only for a moment or two. And the fellow on the street corner has noticed you now, has seen you pause, has noticed you looking back; he knows that you're returning to him even before you do.
And you do return.
You stop before him, uncertainly at first, wondering what the others on the street will think. Who's the fool listening to the street corner nut? But then the man smiles at you, and it's as if he understands the moral problems you're facing simply by stopping; it's a knowing smile.
Too knowing.
And all too suddenly and far too easily you've realized what all the others passing by on the streets have failed to realize, have refused to see. It's in his voice as he calmly explains to you what is approaching with a deadly finality; Armageddon. It's in his wise and too knowing smile, in his confident stance; it's right there for all to see if they'd only really look.
It's in his eyes.
It was a wise man who said that the eyes are the windows to the soul; only, you're sure that he didn't mean it like this. These eyes, the strange and wise eyes of the street corner prophet, are windows not to his soul, but your own. What do you see as those eyes reflect the very depths of your soul? They reflect everything.
Like a mirror.
And once again he's offering you safety, sanctuary at a time when the whole world will be struck down by the gods and demons, by the forces of good and evil. And all he's asking for in return is your unwavering and loyal devotion; it's not a large sum to pay for such a generous offer of life during a time of death.
It's only your soul.
What do you do? You don't know, even, if this is a god or demon; his name he gives you freely and it means nothing to you. The names of such things have been lost to you and most others over the ages, over the countless years of lost belief. Now, weighing heavily on one hand there is your certain extinction at the time of Armagedon, and on the other is the willful payment of your soul to an unknown immortal.
What's your decision?