Disclaimer: I don't own -Man or the characters, nor do I make any kind of profit out of this story.

Summary: Two parts of the same coin. Allen is ten and broken, the gravestone eerily cold as he mourns the loss of his entire world. The Earl is two shades away from complete insanity - but it doesn't prevent him from recognizing another Noah. A hand is offered, and prophecies crumble like dust into nothingness. Noah!Allen

Prologue - And so the snow falls

Life was cruel. It was nothing but a carefully woven pit of cruelty, designed to appear beautiful on the outside in order to trap people within.

But life wasn't beautiful.

Life was painful, and full of a never ending struggle – full of disdainful eyes and pronounced sneers – and fickle kindness.

Allen didn't know why he still bothered to pull the cold air into his lungs, when there was truly no point in doing so.

But he did, and even the cold biting wind brushing past his small form and the bleak gravestone weren't enough to deter him.

The small boy carefully traced the crude inscription on the dark stone with his silver eyes, the name Mana Walker the only indication of who lay beneath the grave. As an orphan, a child living on the streets, Allen had certainly learnt life's lessons early – and he learnt them well.

Humans were superficial and fickle, and he had long since become used to pitying glances becoming disgusted once they caught a glimpse of his arm. Only Mana – broken, but kind Mana – had been different. The clown had not cared that Allen was different, that he had a scaly red arm that he could not move, that he was too rude and distrustful.

Allen trusted only himself, relied only on himself, but he had loved Mana.

Until the man he had in his heart already recognized as family died from an unfortunate accident with a coach.

It had been another proof of God's cruelty. Of humanity's cruelty, when this tragedy that literally tore Allen's newly created world apart was met with nothing more than a few curious glances.

''Good evening~''

Allen's head snapped up, his eyes wide as they took in the being before him. It wasn't his large size that caught Allen's attention, not the inhuman grin or ears, nor was it the strange pumpkin umbrella. It was the golden eyes two shades away from complete insanity that drew his gaze like a moth to a flame.

Something about that colour, about that gaze was indescribably familiar to the young child.

''That person whose grave you're guarding so preciously, shall I revive him for you?~''

Allen barely heard the words coming out of that large mouth, but they struck him with a frightening intensity nonetheless. It was tempting, but Allen had lived on the streets long enough to be cautious of such offers. Of such miracles.

Yet, he wanted to see Mana again. Hear his comforting voice lulling him to sleep and tell him that everything was going to be alright. But then Allen remembered the weary lines of exhaustion marring his guardian's face, the broken look in his eyes that even the abundant smiles and make-up could not conceal.

''Mana is in a better place.'' Allen whispered softly instead, voice close to breaking, but still steady regardless. ''He can finally rest in peace.''

The Earl tilted his head in intrigue; it had been a very long time since he had last been denied – and never by a child so young. The Noah Patriarch leaned a little closer to the kneeling child, and nearly recoiled.

There was a familiar presence emanating from the child, easily caught by his senses. His inner Noah perked up in excitement, and the Maker could do naught but stare at the child in stunned silence.

The child who carried within him a Noah's memory. The 14th memory.

The Earl still heard his voice occasionally, when the emptiness around him reminded him too much of what was lost in the massacre nearly thirty years ago.

An outstretched hand and a gentle smile.

I'll always be by your side.

Those words have long lost their meaning, but the Maker had never forgotten how complete he felt with Neah beside him. Like a lost part of him had been returned.

Those mercury eyes are staring at him, and the Earl can see a similar fascination – with a hint of childish wonder – built in those orbs.

It's a pleasing thought.

''If that's how it is, child.~'' The Earl continued smoothly, all previous thoughts of using that child to create an akuma long forgotten. ''Do you wish to come with me?~''

Allen stared at those glinting golden orbs, broken and swirling with madness, and he felt safe. Something inside him whispering, his very instincts urging him to agree, to take that man's hand and never let go.

''Who are you?'' He asked instead, too wary and exhausted to fully trust his instinct, no matter how reliable they normally were.

The man – being, something inside him seemed to whisper – grinned in an eerie manner, lowered himself to Allen's – but was he really still Allen? – eye-level, before replying in that very same distorted voice. ''I'm the Millennium Earl, patriarch of the Noah family. And you – little one – will be part of that family soon enough.''

And Allen – distrustful, and cynical despite his age – wanted it. Achingly. Desperately so. This feeling of completeness, like the torn ragged pieces inside his bleeding heart had suddenly decided to rearrange themselves into a form not distinctly familiar, but so very soothing.

''Okay.'' Allen whispered, shivering and soaked through, the snow having long since sunk into the partly destroyed fabric of his old clothes.

The Earl stretched out his hand, and this time Allen mirrored him without hesitation – taking the offered limb, and it felt akin to something like salvation.

(Destiny shifts, and distorts – prophecies crumbling like dust into nothingness as the wheel slowly starts to turn anew.)

A/N I have recently rediscovered -Man - and especially the latest chapters have given me the inspiration to write this prologue.

Hope you enjoy it!

AriesOrion