Mercadeus Black was not a loner like the others of his kind. He was apart from them, but not a loner himself. He traveled the vast emptiness in search of a people he could relate with, a place he could call home. Many worlds welcomed him, many beckoned, but none held the warmth he was looking for, the sense of harmony he longed for. One reached out to him with open arms, only to use their hands for death on his behalf. Another tried to use their hands on him, but he fled before they were successful. And others, all so different, all lacking what he desired, so he continued.

From space to space, time to time, universe to universe, he traveled, never stopping for long, until he came upon vibrant world in a place he least expected. It was full of energy and thriving with life unlike that which he had ever seen before. This place he would call home. They welcomed him just as the others had, but with a feeling of brotherhood and familiarity, of family. From the first meeting, the first word, he knew he was home. It did not take long for him to make a name for himself among the upper ranks of their society. Endorasu, they called themselves; a people of vast energy and mystery. Superb creators, whose handiwork spanned the universe. And that was how they lived, by molding their energy into life, and when those creations died, they returned to the creator, thus their energy was recycled.

After a short time Mercadeus fell in love with an Endorasu named Asmora; a woman of great beauty and greater power, and she bore him a son, who he named Oblidarius. But his joy faltered when he found out his child was unlike other Endorasu; something in his own biological make up that was passed onto the child prevented it from being able to create. The babe should have died, but he didn’t. Somehow what hindered Oblidarius’ ability to create also allowed him to sustain himself, allowed him to naturally recycle his own energy. It was the first case of its kind according to the Endorasu. But that was soon to change.

Not long after his son was born, several more children were born lacking, though many of them died. It was found to be a virus, a form of creature they had never encountered before, one that fed on a newborn’s energy. Couples stopped having babies, and the Endorasu felt they were on the verge of a crisis, until they were able to develop an antidote, but it only worked if the virus was detected before birth within the parents. Nothing could be done for those that were already born.

Everything seemed to settle down and babies were born, though it did not last long. Two years later Mercadeus and his wife conceived another child, the virus it also held was quickly combated by the antidote. The child emerged as healthy as could be, another son, who was given the name Zemora, and was given a happy reception, and no infection was found. However, the events that occurred on the day of his 13th birthday would change the course of history forever.

It was during the peek of his ceremony, a grand display of colored strings, ties, and lights, all strewn across whatever they would hold to. There was music and dancing, even a jesterman with his tricks and jokes, and everyone was laughing and having a good time. As they brought out the feast, and everyone took their seats, Mercadeus noticed something was not quite right with his son. “I’m hungry,” Zemora answered. “The food will be set shortly, son. Just be patient,” his father said. But Zemora’s voice grew quiet and harsh. “No, father…. I’m hungry.” As a waiter placed a tray of food in front of them, the boy lashed out, his nails sinking into the mans arm. The confused help only had time to give a short cry of pain before he phased and vanished in a gust of air. And everything went silent. The guests were as statues, unsure of what to make of the situation. Mercadeus stuttered, making a futile effort at a question, and the boy was off, into the crowd, his face that of a hunger crazed beast as he absorbed the guests one by one. People screamed as they fled... and as they vanished. The father could do nothing.

This was not the only incident of its kind. Over the next year, most of the children that had been cured by the antidote also fell to the same crazed hunger, but each in their own way.