Disclaimer: I don't own the Highlander characters or concept. If I did I would be filming episodes instead of writing chapters.

Warning note. I am new to the fanfiction community, so I don't know many things that I probably should. This is my first try in 'publishing' a story. Also, English is not my mother tongue and I have no beta so there might be errors I haven't spot. Feel free to comment, I really appreciate any help I can get this moment.

This is sort, but it is the prologue, so expect more later on.

Hope you enjoy it. I promise it will make sense in the end. I think.

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[...]I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty. [...]And I turned to see the voice that spake with me. And being turned, I saw seven golden candlesticks; And in the midst of the seven candlesticks one like unto the Son of man, clothed with a garment down to the foot, and girt about the paps with a golden girdle [...]And he had in his right hand seven stars: and out of his mouth went a sharp twoedged sword: and his countenance was as the sun shineth in his strength. And when I saw him, I fell at his feet as dead. And he laid his right hand upon me, saying unto me, Fear not; I am the first and the last: I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen; and have the keys of hell and of death.

500 AD

What do you say to someone you barely know? How can you reach him and ask him all the burning questions? Darius sat silently in his desk. In front of him a pack of yellowish papers laid, open, exposed, read. How do you explain to a man that you know something about him he doesn't. He mustn't? How do you say to a man you care about so much that all he ever believed was a lie. A lie that was hidden so well for thousands of years. A secret that he now knew. A secret that if it was revealed...he didn't want to think what would happen then.

Did he believe in God? Did he believe in a creator of humankind? That was what a God was, not? What made him then? What was he if not a God, the man who had created a race? What did it make him that he didn't remember? Uncaring? True? God in all but name? This was confusing. And he still had to decide what to do about what he had read. Darius rubbed his eyes. The man had been an enigma in more than one ways. And now he could finally understand why he would never been able to understand him.

He wasn't meant to.

Darius folded the papers, his hands caressing he title with the touch of a lover. Apocalypses tou Ioanne. The Revelation. It was the first time he read it as a priest. Funny how sometimes some things came to happen. John, if it was John that had written this down, probably was just a senile old man at the time. Darius recognised myths and history, very old history where other saw prophecies. He had always wondered what would happen if he fed some one parts f myths and history and asked him to compose a story with those. He now had the answer. A prophetic text, that inexplicably unfolded – or created – a plan. A plan that at some point would come to be fulfilled. And he would like to be there.

But first, first he had to find the 144000 white soldiers. He knew John had blown their number out of proportions. He had part of the knowledge of the ancient. There were always 144. And they followed one man only. Protected him, kept him safe, even if he didn't know. And he would have to find them. And teach them and prepare them for the time when the first seal would brake.

This was his mission. This had always been his mission, as it passed down from the ancient.