-Earthverse
-Milky Way Galaxy
-Planet Earth
-USA North America Continent
-New York City, NY
It was midnight, and no matter how hard he tried Salvatore could not fall asleep. Although nocturnal by nature, after the long week Salvatore had had involving a abnormally high number of arranged "accidents", as well as dealing with several important clients personal issues, and numerous minute daily tasks, he had been looking forward to the welcoming embrace of his Italian silk sheets and goose feather pillows.
And yet at the moment of truth, he still could not sleep. Thinking aloud he asked "what's wrong with me?" A rhetorical question if ever he asked. Salvatore, the underworlds most renowned celebrity, the greatest Hitman the world had ever seen, was bored. He wasn't bored as in bored of his bed, or his clothes, or even his job. No, this was a total boredom of self, for he was bored of his very existence.
It had been 3 years since he had claimed the title of greatest killer, 3 long boring years. During this period of time that felt like an eternity not a single challenger or would be assassin who wished to claim the massive contract he had place on himself for 1 trillion dollars had ever withstood more than a single attack from him. Not even 1 single attack.
Sighing despondently, Salvatore lightly gestured with his hand as though shooing a fly towards the ceiling instantly caused a massive explosion of air followed by a loud bang to ring out.
His room constructed from space age materials that could easily withstand the combined might of over a 100 nuclear missile's simultaneously without sustaining a single scratch suddenly had a massive cavity over 3 foot deep and 9 foot across the silvery-gray ceiling.
However despite this unimaginable feats impressiveness, what was truly mindboggling was that this massive amount of damage was caused by him exerting less than 1% of his full strength. Staring at the massive dent even he was forced to acknowledged he had become a monster. He had become a monster far too strong for this world.
Staring at his "renovated" ceiling he began to ponder how he had arrived at his present situation. As his thoughts slowly wound back the hands of time he began to examine his life in its entirety.
Salvatore was born in a small seaside village on the island of Sicily located off the tip of Italy. His parents although seemingly poor, lived a honest, simple and happy life.
For eight years, he happily partook in the daily life and death sparring lessons his muscular grandfather would baptize him with.
As the world's greatest mercenary, his grandfather had experience both world wars, and had fought on every continent known to man, bestowing him with a dozen lifetimes worth of fighting experience, in every form of combat in existence, which he would sadistically drill daily into the very depths of Salvatore's body, spirit, and soul.
In the evenings his parents would instruct him in a wide variety of subjects while his grandfather would lecture him about various battle tactics and strategies as they played chess.
Happy with his simple life he believed these cheerful days would last forever. Little did he expect for tragedy to strike his small village. Without warning a massive plague broke out killing both plant and animal life around the village.
Each day his family would desperately struggled to survive one more day. Finally when his grandfather who had been the pillar of his family died from the unknown illness his parents made the decision to abandon the doomed village and immigrate to America. 7 months later, at the age of 10 he arrived in New York City, NY.
However America was not the refuge his parents had thought it would be, in little more than a year later his parent also died from a unknown sickness in the slums they lived in. Orphaned, the state placed him with other parentless immigrant children in an orphanage. That very night he ran away, escaping out of a broken window in the basement.
In order to survive on the harsh streets of New York City Salvatore joined a child street gang in little Italy, their he struggled to survive committing many crimes as he worked for the local mafia doing odd jobs.
When he was 12 during a routine delivery he saved Don Marco from an assassination attempt by killing the team of 25 would be killers utilizing the skills his grandfather had taught him. Impressed by Salvatore's natural killing ability, Don Marco recruited him, as a soldier into his organization, making him the youngest ever made-man.
Having found his calling in life he excelled at eliminating troublesome individuals for the organization, quickly climbing up the ranks. By the age of 13 he was made a captain that specialized in elimination, and was feared across the eastern seaboard having earned the dreaded moniker "Piccola Morte" or "little death" by killing more men in one year than the rest of the organization combined.
By the age of 15, having solidified his organizations hold over the entire eastern seaboards underworld, he began to travel the world expanding the organization as he honed his skills, performing thousands of hits in various locations globally, during which he experienced countless life and death situations as he killed thousands upon thousands of beings ranging from normal guards to massive chimeras born from the nightmarish experimentation of other underworld organizations for use as bio-weapons.
After surviving 3 hellish years of endless killing, numerous life and death encounters and countless other situations he had become a true living weapon, a literal one-man-army capable of destroying whole country's by himself, forged in the crimson fires of endless bloodshed and soul quenching anguish.
On his 18th birthday he returned to New York City were Don Marco placed him in charge of their largest brothel that catered to a exclusive clientele consisting of politicians, billionaires, and movie stars.
Leading him to the penthouse on the top floor he said, "Salvatore, it's time you became a man, in the biblical sense", before pushing him through the white doors. Inside he found several barely clothed, virginal, world class beauties. And a few minutes later Salvatore did indeed become a man, in the biblical sense, and with the enthusiastic aid of all those lovely young ladies continued to fully immerse himself in exploring his newly obtained manhood unceasingly over the course of the next 72 hours.
Life was truly good for Salvatore, not only had he found his calling in life, but he wanted for nothing, having all the money and women one could ever wish for. But oddly no matter how many new hobbies he tried, or how many beautiful women he bedded, each day his world steadily became greyer, until eventually it was utterly devoid of color.
He began to feel tired of the world he was living in, at age 21 having become a true maestro in the art of death he existed at the very pinnacle of Hitmen and had risen to the highest realm a human killer was capable of. As the undisputed number one Hitman he had run out of worthy opponents who were capable of providing him with a true challenge of his skills.
Having no remaining attachments to his current life with his relatives all long dead he longed for a place filled with endless worthy adversaries. Still, as a realist he knew that his one true desire was impossible, for he had truly become far too strong.
"RIIPPP!!"
Suddenly hearing a tearing sound he quickly returned to the present as his heightened senses went into full alert searching his surroundings for any signs of change. Looking around the dark room while concealing his presence perfectly he suddenly moved his head to the side instinctively sensing an object approaching his face.
As the object collided with his pillow it made a distinct "clink" sound. Turning his head towards the unknown object he discovered a strange metal lure attached to a golden string with a small piece of paper tied to it, emerging from what appeared to be a black tear in the air above his head. Untying the paper he found a short message written in neat golden script.
"If you are one who desires a world of endless adventure, a world of unimaginable challenges, a world for only the truly strong, grab hold of this golden string of destiny and pull twice"
Narrowing his eyes he softly uttered the sum of his thoughts with a single word.
"Interesting!"
Then without the slightest hesitation he firmly grasped the string and yanked twice. Instantly he was pulled into the black tear which sealed behind him with a silent "POP".