Evangel did not come from a nest. Her golden egg, uncommon even among the majestic bald eagles of her kind, lay in a weak windbreak through the bitter winds of winter and the scorching sun of summer alike, and met not one trace of fellow-avian contact for every one of her seven summers. By the time the Evangel's seventh winter came around, her feathers were ruffled from the icy western winds, and her eyes were worn down to simple black beads.

Perhaps it was the effect of growing up without a mother or siblings, but Evangel's appearance was not her only variation from the other eagles. True, she did not look majestic or beautiful at all. She was no true emblem of elegance, nor was she a bird of royalty, caged and leashed by kings and queens. No king would ever approach her, for she had been known to exterminate entire armies with the storm and fire her powers could raise; neither would a queen, for the smoke billowing around her wings were enough to turn to ash the clothes and jewels of any.

The bald eagle's powers extended also to other birds. The other hawks were afraid of her, not because Evangel perpetually enjoyed feasting on others of her kind, but because she had a tendency to attack them and leave them for dead, only after practicing her evil telekinesis on their limp and injured bodies. Perhaps it was because she was always alone and very bored, but Evangel had acquired a power that allowed her to psychically and telekinetically control the movements and thoughts of others, as well as immobile objects. It was this fear of pain and death that drove her own mother away—as soon as the egg was laid, waves of power so strong as to destroy motherly intent radiated from it. The mother was entirely aware of the daughter's nasty potential, and so fled.

With the hawks and eagles in mortal fear of Evangel, the little sparrows and robins that heard tell of her were forced to scramble around in fear, small wings forever rustling, restless and sleepless as long as Evangel was around.

Evangel was but a myth to all but the wisest of her time. She closely followed the advancement of the world, wreaking havoc whenever possible. While the remains of her shattered egg still lay very far north, where she was born, Evangel had since her birth made her way, gradually, to a sheltered cove in southern Canada. For centuries she resided, sometimes peaceful, sometimes enraged, in a lonely little nest, obsessed, completely obsessed, with further developing her psychic powers.

Immortality only made Evangel increasingly hungry for suffering—it was no more than entertainment for the bird. True, when she was only seven years old, her fierce mask only hid a curious and slightly dangerous heart and powers. She was satisfied with fixing her silver eyes on mortals and turning them to stone or sand. After several weeks of prodding and pecking the statues and sand piles, she would return them to their previous state and move on to another country.

The stray, motherless, bird had discovered at last her place in the world.

Antietam Creek, 1862

The American Civil War was in its fieriest stage for the Union; Evangel's presence in Texas spurred on the Confederate soldiers to win battle after battle, while the eagle continually used her mind powers to sidetrack the Northern soldiers. The Union general George McClellan was especially affected by Evangel, who was all but hounding him whenever he tried to follow the orders of Abraham Lincoln, the president of the Union at the time.

The Battle of Antietam, the single bloodiest day of the entire Civil War, was the best day of Evangel's entire existence. Invisible, she hovered above the fray, increasing the power of artillery and rifle shots at will. Bloody Lane was all her doing; in truth, the weak Union soldiers were not at all the cause of the Confederate retreat from the narrow lane.

At the bloody day's end, Evangel halted General McClellan from pursuing the southern general, Robert Lee, and his troops as they fled from Northern grounds, causing all sorts of physical pain—all sorts of pain that left no marks.

McClellan was dismissed—one life ruined. The South had lost their winning streak— one war lost, as Evangel judged.

Hiroshima and Nagasaki, 1945

Neither of the two atomic bombs was as strong as they were after Evangel tampered with them with rays from her silver eyes. She really was not a major part of the offensive attack, but preferred this time to experiment with the subduing of the civilians. Evangel wandered among the residents of Hiroshima several weeks before the bomb was to be dropped, feeding them fear and anger toward the United States. As for Nagasaki, however, the mythical eagle did not foresee its destruction. The U.S. had originally planned to bomb Kyoto or Kokura, yet the city was finally added to the consideration list should Japan refuse to surrender.

Evangel egged on Japan's pride, knowing it would lead to the destruction of another city.

After the fateful day in August, 1945, Evangel retreated to Canada to wait for another uprising among the mortals.

Mayan Ruins, Mexico, 2012

The Mayans had known all along about Evangel and her powers. They were aware that she wanted nothing more than to destroy, as her mother had done by abandoning her. The best of them could not predict an exact time and place, but the year was clear enough from the signs Evangel had left.

The universe was no more; all of Evangel's powers and emotions were channeled into its destruction. On the twelfth night of November, 2012, a bigger bang erupted all the living, including the eagle.

At least they felt no pain.