A robust red-haired man walks the streets of London late at night. The systematic blinking lights mirror each step he takes. Behind him, a trail of fire and smoke. He carries a broken guitar and book. Perhaps his talents lie elsewhere. No one knows where this man is headed. They say destruction follows his presence. He is a family of one and he, much like destruction itself, is impartial.
They are wrong.
Our guest is headed to the British Museum and he has a family. His name is Destruction but he deserted that name long ago. He now goes by the title of “Prodigal”. He earned this title after he fought against his brother Dream where he received much ire from the rest of his family. He was cast out of the realm of the Endless. Much like Destruction itself, he, or it has no purpose. Yet today, the Prodigal marches with fervor in his step and desperation in his breath.
He’s running away. But from what? No. Running to somewhere.
In what seems like an instant, he traverses across Bloomsbury and appears at the metal gates of the British Museum. Inside the museum, a rainbow aura emanates from the building’s hull. Someone is there and the Prodigal knows who.
Delirium, youngest of the Endless, is here to play.
“Hello Brother. It’s been far too long!” she says as she runs toward Prodigal. Being greeted with such an unfamiliar sight, Destruction is at first caught off guard and he stops before regaining his composure. “I see you’ve had quite the makeover since the last time I saw you!” he exclaims. “Well. well. well. You would know all about makeovers, wouldn’t you? After all, you were the one responsible for this hairdo” she says as she tugs her hair, a maniacal grin slowly creeping across her face.
Destruction can’t help but wince as he remembers the damage he has caused to the family. Seeing this, Delirium murmurs “You know, you could always come back. We need you. Things have changed. Endless things like us are coming to an end.”. A tear falls from Delirium’s opal-colored eye as her lips close to form a pout.
“I can’t do that. Our brother won’t let me. I have done something terrible and my exile will last until everything perishes. So is the fate of destruction in a world with nothing to destroy.” Prodigal responds. But as he does, Delirium shrinks to the ground and unleashes a bloodcurdling scream. Her eyes rage in different colors as she is lifted into the air. From her screams, a pink portal materializes and then silence. Delirium lays unconscious on the floor and the portal transforms into a beautiful woman.
Love in its most potent is Delirious. Love has a mistress.
Prodigal only caught a faint glimpse of her fleeting figure before she evaporated into thin air. He quickly turned his attention back toward Delirium only to be greeted by the space she once occupied. Delirium was gone and only anger met the Prodigal. Gritting his teeth and digging his nails into his palms, Destruction reminded the world of why he earned his name. In a fiery explosion that razed the entire museum, Destruction screamed. In a rainfall of ash and cinder, Destruction uttered one word before getting up to move.
“Dream.”