There was a giant flash, and a grizzly-looking man tumbled into the remnants of an old factory. He laid on the ground for a couple of seconds before getting up. His surroundings were cold, rugged, and the smell of vengeance was in the air.

     Gabriel Monroe looked around and smiled. His mission had been completed, he was exactly where he needed to be. Gabriel stood up and walked to one part of the old factory's wall. He picked up a piece of metal and began to carve a series of numbers into the factory's surface.

     Everything he had done was to get to that point. His role was to become the catalyst, and by infiltrating the facility, letting the prisoners with powers escape, building the bomb, cheering the prisoners into an out-of-control riot, making himself be viewed as a threat, and forcing Robert Carson to run fast enough to distort time, he had effectively gone into the recent past. He had been taken to an important moment in the great plan, and Gabriel was finally able to complete his role.

     The escaped prisoners would help defend during the coming dark times. They would fulfill their destinies, and Monroe would fulfill his own. One, single, vision cascaded in his skull, and Gabriel carved the individual numbers that were revealed to him. The renegade that would find the coordinates would follow them; a man driven by revenge and isolation. In turn, it would result in a series of events that would destroy so many but create something beautiful. He realized that his role was to release the very darkness he had foreseen, but Gabriel accepted it. There was nothing he could do to fight the future. It was all a part of the plan.

     Gabriel stood in the warehouse, a man out of time now, carving into the concrete a series of numbers that would change the course of history.

**

     Far out in the cosmos, a brilliant beam of light finished its journey through the stars. It hit its mark and exploded in a blinding flash. From the rotating portal that had been formed, an ancient figure began to stir from its long slumber. It opened its eyes, for the first time in several millennia, and stared out at the stars.

     The figure, a towering creature of untold power, gazed at the cosmos and reached out to touch them.

     It was free.

     Abraxas was free.

To Be Continued...