flourish all year round, and had since become a place of great curiosity to the humanoids. Azazel had observed their obsession with the tree and knew their community thrived beneath its branches.
Now far beyond the articulated boundaries of the garden, its pastures spread out before Azazel, herds of wild deer stood feeding upon the grasslands while birds of different species perched upon their backs pecking harmlessly to cleanse the mammalian skin of insects. All about him wildlife flourished, both small and large, a hugely different ecosystem to what he had once known upon his home planet. Such beauty, he thought to himself as he strode across the countryside towards a thick woodland.
He knew there was not a great humanoid population within the garden yet he was beginning to grow alarmed for failing to yet see a single subject. With an ever growing anxiety he paced between the quiet flora. Scattered amidst the forest’s trees he at last laid eyes upon his creations dissolving the troubled feelings consuming his innards. At sight of the towering bronze entity the beings immediately fell upon their knees, lowering their heads before the seraphim.
“They have returned!” He heard one of them exclaim, through study of the beings the watchers’ bodysuits deciphered and stored their language, readily translating Azazel’s words to their tongue, and their own to his. “The Adams said you would.”
“Adams?” Azazel stood before the humanoids, intrigued at just how different they looked compared to his own kind, their interbreeding must have brought their DNA back towards the first bipedal species his people modified.
“We can take you to the Adams, they have spoken for generations of beings who once watched over us. Do more come?” A large male kneeled before Azazel, though he would not look upon the seraphim, he continued glaring at the ground. His long black hair fell upon his dark face and shoulders.
“It is just me, please, take me to them.” Although he knew the way, he wished to gather the subjects together as quickly as he could. With a nod, yet still without gazing upon Azazel’s bronze suit, the humanoid turned. His company stood with him and together they began through the garden’s lush undergrowth. They marched for much distance before encroaching upon an open expanse. In the centre of the clearing stood the tree, its undying leaves flooding a spectrum of colours across its artificial branches.
Beneath the structure’s overhanging leaves masses of individuals stood and sat, communing together, yet at sight of Azazel each fell to their knees bowing before the bronze entity.
“Rise, children of Eve.” The seraphim spoke immediately, his voice booming from the suit’s headset. “There is little time.”
“Our forefathers told us of beings, all powerful, that came from the sky to teach us the ways of life, have you returned?”
“We are far from all powerful, which of you claims charge over the others here?”
“It is I who is responsible.” An incredibly frail humanoid raised a hand, his white hair extended beyond his waistline. He kneeled again before Azazel who grew impatient.
“Gather your people, Adam, this place is no longer safe.” The frail humanoid nodded, turning to his kin.
“Go to the fields, gather your brothers and sisters, all of them.” The crowd dispersed, heading into the trees towards the pastures of the garden.
“What do you Adams know of your people’s history?”
“Our ancestors have always lived on these lands, I was told stories by the elders, so long ago, of beings that were not of our people, who once stood with us, capable of things our people could not understand. We have lived in these lands since the dawns of time, we are a dynasty.” Azazel shook his head at the male’s words.
“These lands are not what you believe them to be, Adam,” the seraphim gazed upon all present, some appeared fearful, others captivated. You must, Azazel. “Your people must know these things before you leave this place. Listen to me, Adam. Long ago, before the first Adam walked beneath these branches, my own people’s world was upon the verges of death. We searched across great expanses of open space looking for worlds that might sustain life and harbour us. Eventually we stumbled upon a star system that appeared not so dissimilar to our own, and so our vessel, Heaven, was sent upon its way.” Azazel stopped, he looked across the humanoids, it was clear they could not comprehend his words.
“When we first saw this world, it appeared blue and fertile, but it was barren. Frozen. A desolate unforgiving habitat for life, the inhabitants of its lands dwindled. Wherever I looked there was death, some strange things I’ve seen on this world, but never so much death. It appeared the bipedal beasts would survive the last of the icy grip, though before it thawed completely some great shift about its crust flung it back into the death grip. Warm climates were plunged on a whim into the deepest freezes, the gigantic animals of this world flung with the chill into the frost, as though the planet had become displaced. The most logical and intelligent of the beings here failed to overcome rapid change, only the most instinctive survived.
The beings we one day hoped to make communication with fell to the rim of extinction, it was only then we chose to intervene. The most promising of the bipedal species had already fallen to the freezing grip, only the most primitive survived. I would not intervene when there was hope they might support themselves, survive and reproduce. But they perished, and with it almost all hope for my people. It was then the intervention began.”
“Intervention?” The aging male looked up at Azazel for the first time, staring at his reflection in the seraphim’s visor.
“Our genes were used to fertilise a number of bipedal subjects, the resulting offspring were your ancestors.” The ancient male slowly shook his head, he looked lost. “Your kind was born from the modification of other species upon this world, Adam.”
“Genes? I don’t understand.”
“What makes you who you are, and what makes me who I am, and all my people who they are, is the same, Adam. Our blood shares something very important, all that differs is the host species we were born from. We were created, Adam, both you and I. Your people did not exist until mine arrived here, but now you do, and you are more important than you will ever know. It is for this reason we must leave this place.” The old male stood in silence for some moments. He stared into Azazel’s visor, stricken in confusion.
“So there truly was a first Adam,” he mumbled to himself before raising his voice. “Who was Eve?” The seraphim was impressed at how well the subject’s lineage had been passed down through the generations.
“We implanted the first born male’s seed, Adam, into the first born female. Eve was the primary host in this garden, from her your bloodline stemmed. Her first born lived for hundreds of Eden’s years, prolonged by the DNA of my own kind, yet, since then, something has occurred that I cannot explain. Your species is no longer born from a host, each multiplication has regressed you from your purest form. Your people now age as the host species of bipedals we first formed you from does.” The seraphim could see his words were lost upon the humanoids, why should they understand your words, Azazel? You come from the stars, they exist in a garden.
“Then why must we run?” The question immediately enveloped Azazel in guilt and regret.
“When we first began to alter the genetics of species upon this planet, I intertwined my own tissues with those of the first female subject, I know not what I thought I would accomplish through these actions, her name was Lilith, she was intended to spawn the first host, the original modification, so bright and strong minded she became, yet she fled from the garden. Her primal instincts were still strong, and so she began to interbreed with the bipedal species we produced her from, the resulting offspring became what we watchers now know as the nephilim.”
“And these, nephilim, wish harm upon my children?”
“They seek to be rid of all humanoids, Adam. I have observed a giant out there, somewhere, enclosing upon the garden with its kind, a behemoth older than any who stand upon this world. The first seed of Lilith,” the seraphim pau
sed for a moment, gripped by dark memories, “a horrendous thing,” he whispered. Carried upon the wind a wild scream burst the quiet atmosphere. An alarming chorus of moans and cries followed but were quickly dulled by a bloodthirsty bellow.
“Help us!” Azazel shuddered as his body repulsed with dread once more. He immediately grasped a stillot tip from his back gazing manically through his visor towards the sounds of panic. The screams immediately caused a wave of terror to spread through the humanoids around him, many of them ran to Azazel, others dispersed to the trees.
“Stay together!” The seraphim yelled at Adam’s kin, desperate to flee himself, yet he could not for the sake of his kind’s future. “Gather! We must follow the river that flows through this land north, out of the garden.” It was not enough to stop some disappearing, though the majority gathered to Azazel as the screams grew louder, some of them being drowned out, by what the seraphim shuddered to imagine. “Go, travel west, and follow the river north, it will lead us out of the garden. I will shepherd the others as they come.”
“Out?”
“There is no time to explain! Follow the water! I will meet you.” Adam nodded at the towering bronze entity, as did his people, together they hurried into the forest surrounding the pod. The
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