<div align="center">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v296/rcburner/Cities%20and%20Buildings/MonolithSkyscraper.jpg)</div><br/><div class="floatright">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v296/rcburner/Engels.jpg)</div><br/>Like some ancient survival from an age of fortresses and castles did the monolithic skyscraper rise above the landscape, laying dominion to everything beneath it.  So massive was the structure that the sun itself seemed to fade behind its glory, its burning light replaced with the glow from thousands of windows that dotted the building's surface like stars in the night sky.  Smaller towers rose up to meet it, a veritable forest of steel and concrete that sealed off the main skyscraper from the rest of London.  At its base a great tunnel gaped, a mouth ready to consume and protect the vehicles of all that were cleared to enter.  Its power was awe-inspiring, its defenses matching those of a full blown military facility.  The headquarters of the Engels Corporation, a testament to the strength of man over the forces of nature.  The guardian of Eden's Nectar.<br/><br/>From a secure office at the very core of the building stood a single man, contained in a space vast enough to seat hundreds.  Huge screens hung down from the ceilings and displayed live footage of places spanning the entire globe, the images so crisp and clear that they seemed like portals into nearby realities.  They followed the man eagerly as he paced about the chamber, gliding along the rails set into the ceiling.  The handsome figure glanced at them only idly, as if they told him nothing that he did not already know.  He paid slightly more attention to the ones listing figures and equations, graphs and schematics, but ultimately they too could not hold his attention for longer than a few precious seconds.  A pleasant smile was set into his face so firmly that it seemed a mask; frozen in place, an unbreakable confidence.<br/><br/>After a time he strayed back to his desk, a lavish and decadent thing carven from black wood into the shape of several humans, both male and female, writhing suggestively against disturbingly reptilian beasts.  The top of it was composed of their conjoined backs, and the surface was clear but for a small, thin laptop computer and a remote control.  The extended one finger and casually rotated a dial on the device.  Immediately the screens went black, then came on again with images that could only be recorded from space.  After searching through them for a few brief seconds he seemed to find the one he was after and plucked it down to eye level.  Another moment of study seemed to yield results, for he pressed a finger on a certain point on the landscape and watched as the footage zoomed down until individual buildings could be seen.<br/><br/>At once it became apparent what the man was searching for.  Half the screen displayed a firestorm erupting from what appeared to be the slowly crumbling remains of an old castle.  Several black shapes disappeared from it after a moment; helicopters fleeing the scene of the attack.  Anyone else would have been shocked, but the man seemed entirely calm.  As though he had anticipated just such a thing.<br/><br/>The silence was suddenly interrupted by a beeping coming from the desk.  The monitors immediately backed away, as though they knew not to impede their owner's progress to the communications system.  The man slipped lazily into his high-backed throne of a chair and tapped a button on the underside of the desk.<br/><br/><em>"Sir Engels, Sir, </em>the woman on the end of the line intoned mechanically,<em>"Mr. Skinner is on the line again.  He wants to know if you would be willing to reopen discussion about his proposal."</em><br/><br/>Sir Luxor Engels, CEO, President, and sole owner of the Engels Corporation.  He shook his head with amusement.  "Please inform Mr. Skinner that I have no intention of allowing him to introduce Luxitone into those bundles of reconstituted sewage that he calls burgers.  Not now, not ever.  If he wishes to draw the ignorant masses back into his establishments he will just have to find some addictive drug to replace whatever they used to put in the damnable things."<br/><br/><em>"Of course, Sir."</em><br/><br/>The intercom clicked off, and Luxor drew himself back into his chair.  His fingers naturally steepled themselves over his lap, his body assuming an almost zen-like position.  When the screens began to slide back over he waved them off, seemingly content with what he had seen.  A Dark One facility melted into oblivion and a Wyvern's castle reduced to shambles.  Eye for an eye.  But it was only the beginning of something far larger.  A war whose scope would make the wars of old look like the disputes of children by comparison.  Thanks to the prejudice and impatience of a King, the world itself was threatened with total annihilation.  Forces were at work to ensure that this would happen.  Forces that slithered in the gullets of human puppets, and worked their silver tongue into the ears of those with the authority to condemn the Earth to ruin.<br/><br/>He could see all of it.  This conflict was years in the making.  The King's brutal slaughter was only the next in a chain of events spanning hundreds of years.  It was merely the beginning of the next link, the assassination that would forge the ones to come in the fires of hatred and self-righteousness.  But the ultimate destination of this chain was not the one that certain black-hearted individuals hoped it would be, for just outside the scope of their own perception gazed<em>his</em>eye, shielding his dextrous hands from their sight as they worked their own grand designs towards his own ends.  The role of the Eternal Spectator was not an impotent one, when it could be so fluidly altered to become that of the Eternal Puppeteer.<br/>