Anubis Unit: The Book of Brocephalus

Translated from the prophecies of Uncle That Bastard, Prophet of Anubis Unit
Written by Thomas Duder, Author of the Things
Edited by Elizabeth Robbins, The Alchemist

"And the tale begins not with a whimper, but with a bang. Big, loud, and nasty. AUDIOGENESIS was the beginning, and the sound that eluded God. It wasn't what It wanted, but it was close! So close...lost, somewhere in existence." - Uncle That Bastard, Prophet of Anubis Unit

This rage-soaked tale of sound and fury, of blood and music, ahhhh yes. This tale.

It doesn't begin when Satanus rebelled against God, putting forth the Unholy Trinity and setting the Corporate Machine in the heart of the world.

It doesn't begin when Satanus tricked Andyconda: King of the Reptiles and Lord of the Snakes, taking one of his snakes to further trick Adam, Eve, and their friend Steve.

It doesn't begin when Satanus betrayed Cerberus: Guardian at the Gates, locking the poor, loyal pup in the bowels of Hades, forever tied to Hell as a servant until certain requirements were met.

It actually begins before the birth of The Regurgitator: Devourer of Worlds and Eater of Souls, before he was ever revealed the Avatar of Heavy Metal.

Noooo, no. This heavy metal dark fantasy doesn't begin with the First War in Hell, or the conquests that would come after. This doesn't even begin when the band is formed, but, rather...

With regret.

The tale begins with the ultimate act of absolute heresy in this world.

Laying on his deathbed, seeing the entirety of his wasted life, the drone.

THE drone.

Not the first drone, or the first to tear off his mask and join the Legion, but...a drone, nonetheless.

An unimportant, shabby figure. An old man, frail and dying, on the verge of death. A drone who lived his entire life as all drones do, and as his bloodline has for millennia before him.

What would happen, though, was the true start of the story. From a single, raw, uninhibited moment, this particular nameless drone in question saw his entire life flash before his eyes...something that normally didn't happen to the blissfully ignorant creatures.

He saw. He witnessed.

He despaired.

Despair, yes! Not rage, not hate, not even love, but...despair. Despair was the beginning, despair! The ultimate act of blasphemy for the Drones of Earth.

He saw the wasted potential of his life, the wreckage of what was left behind after the grinding wheels of reality...and he despaired.

And as his mask cracked, and as the pieces tumbled to the ground, so did he Fall.

Not because of his Sin, but because the Machine slipped up.

The Machine made a mistake.

No Drone should ever feel emotions not controlled by the Mask. No Drone has ever suffered despair. No Drone has ever taken stock of their life, questioned anything about the way they live or who they are.

The Mask controlled all. No Mask had ever failed.

BUT, things are what they are. The Mask broke, and with each shattered piece that hit the ground, so did the Drone's soul fall another mile.

Deep, deep into the hidden levels of Hell.

That, my friends, is how it all begins.

An unforeseen mistake.

An unforgettable misadventure.

A heavy metal dark fantasy to last the ages.

And as we leave this poor, unfortunate soul, lost and confused, his memory fragmented as he began to traverse the fiery wastelands and catacombs of Hell, do not weep.

As you will soon learn, he probably would’ve kicked your ass anyway.