Chapter 1: Reminiscent of The Past (1)

When you think of chains. People generally think of cold steel metal that rope around themselves to form this thin or bulky object that secures, supports, or constraint an object or person in submission.

Yet, people generally don't think about the mental chains that every human being conjures. Restricting themselves from doing something they want to do, yet can't because they know it's wrong or it's going to embarrass them in front of a lot of people.

People don't think that they are putting chains around certain aspects of themselves. People usually use the terms "restraining oneself", or, "being civil" around the public. Because people chain certain aspects of their personality to blend in more and be a part of a group.

(It is a load of bullshit and fuck other people's opinions. The only opinion that should matter is theirs. That's my opinion. I'm writing this godforsaken fanfiction because right now, I'm bored and I want to do something that will take my mind off of the future.)

Because hanging around oneself is lonely and can be unfulfilling for a lot of people. Wolves usually hunt in packs. Penguins, birds, deers, ants, and many other animals and insects are usually grouped together, because it's much safer and more easy to function as a group than being alone doing everything by oneself. Being alone, you will struggle with securing food, finding shelter, and finding a hard problem to solve with no help whatsoever.

People chain themselves because they want to blend in more or be included in a group of people that they think is really cool. They become inspired to be someone in that group. Changing their appearance, personality, and habits to be them without noticing themselves or doing everything they can to be that person.

Listening to their songs, dressing like them, speaking like them, and doing everything they can to be just like them. Because if you can be like that person. Then you can have people like you more, talk to you more, seeking help from you, or being inspired by you. Feeling special and being more proud of yourself than you already are.

But, that's not how that works. When people put everything on becoming someone they aren't. They're going to betray themselves because no ones perfect. Everyone has their own problems, their own flaws, and their own demons that they constantly struggle with. Whether its arrogance, depression, pity, self hatred, low self esteem, or trying to be better and hurting yourself in the process.

It all boils down to what was intended at the start of 'remodeling' yourself. Was it the fear of rejection, the constant loneliness, the ebbing emptiness, or was it not feeling proud of oneself, always taking everyone's negative opinion in account, trying to better yourself.

Maybe it was the way people grew up. To parents twisting their words into hating a certain group of race, to a community talking bad at a religion, or whan a group of friends don't consider the groups opinion at the start of their friendship. Maybe it was the constant fear of the unknown. Pushing and shoving people to do something they don't want, but have to in order to stay in a group, or was it another reason?

The truth.

Chains have coiled, twisted, and intertwined with today's society like a disease. Pushing and pulling peoples animosity, their confusion, fear, sadness, anger, blind hatred, disgust and so much more.

Free from judgment.

People let themselves be chained, coiling and wrapping around tightly in. Deluding themselves into feeling ordinary, forcing themselves to be relatively normal, trying desperately to appear perfect to others. All the while screaming underneath the suffocating pressure, crying out in constant pain, and desperately clawing at the lies that surround them.

Free from scrutiny.

The chains of society grip, they suffocate, silence, and harm those who are intertwined.

Free from the low voices that criticize and mock you every you go.

They drag, coil, twist, and surround you into this bottomless pit that never lets go.

Free from the countless eyes that wander and follow you around. Judging you by appearance and how you act.

Chains that twist around your shoulders, piercing through and locking you in place, constantly dragging you down. Until it becomes unbearable to handle, crushing your dreams, your goals, your hopes, and succumbing to the pressure.

A never ending cycle.

"Son, you need to stop being a failure."

That.

"Just do it, don't be a p#ssy!"

Never.

"You will always amount to nothing."

Ends!

The constant questioning human kind has asked themselves every day to appear ordinary.

"Does this make me look weird?"

The repeatable questions human beings dig themselves into. They dig, and dig, and dig, until it becomes bottomless to grasp out of.

"Does she think I look weird?"

The words we regret saying to others.

"Please tell me I didn't say that?"

Human beings pull, dig, drag, and want themselves to appear normal on a daily basis. To co-workers, to friends, to families, to colleagues, and to everyone they associate with. They want, feel, and desire to live an ordinary, perfectly normal life.

They wrap themselves in this common ideal that everyone has to follow to live in peace. To feel united, connected, and easily predictable. To live a life without strife, without violence, without sadness, without despair.

Yet, they lie to themselves.

They lie to themselves as they move forward. Disregarding the people around them as they slowly return to their little haven they've secured.

Disregarding the truth.

Ignoring the struggle people suffer in order to live another day. Looking away as they shiver from the biting temperature, zoning out their cries, their whimpers, the pleading voices that cry out for help, and the desperate eyes that all but scream "help me".

Glossing over the hard facts that countless people stay away from.

Ignoring the shadows under their eyes, the tickle of blood that slowly drips from their nose, ignoring their pleading eyes that cry out for help. They ignore, shut their eyes, their ears, and scream out to the infinite void around them in order to be oblivious, unaware, and to once more be ignorant again.

The reality surroundings them.

Seeing, yet striding away as few people wait, yearning beyond belief that someone or something will come around and help them. To come around and sweep all their worries, all their problems, all their fears away like a dream.

They only perceive the truth they willingly want to hear and see.

To see a happy couple hand in hand and yet, ignoring the slight bruises on the young woman's wrist and neck, the heavy bags under her eyes, the fearful glances to her 'boyfriend', and the uncomfortable stiff posture anytime her partner touches her.

Truly, the chains of society are ugly to behold.

Yet, as dark and foreboding these chains seem. Many individuals always, always struggle to break free and help. To not lock in place and look away. To not lie and seek out the fact, the truth, and the reali-

"You're an asshole. You know that, Allen." Grumbled a young teen, slightly hunched forward, walking on the sidewalk right next to the road.

The student that grumbled was a boy that barely finished reaching puberty. He looked around 16 years old and stood about 5'4 feet tall, with short smooth combed black hair surrounding his head. He wore blue earphones around his ears, a black T-shirt with a picture of a red dragon laying on a pile of a ruined city. He wore black fingerless gloves that dug into the draconic scaled straps of his red draconic backpack, which has a picture of a black dragon coiling onto itself with a glare. He has black cargo pants and black steel toed shoes. Blue eyes glared towards the person behind him.

"I don't want to hear that from you. You damn Chunibyo." Snapped another teen, slightly behind the now named Chunibyo.

Allen's hazel brown eyes stared with clear irritation at the person in front of him. Allen was one year older and stood 5 inches taller than Eric. He had unkempt dark brown hair, barely reaching to his neck. He wore a long black sleeve T-shirt, with a white wolf logo on his right chest area and on to his back which was covered by his gray backpack. He wore a white shirt underneath, dark blue jeans with a black chain hanging on his right pocket, and red converse with black stripes to the sides of them.

They were students of EastSky, and they are anything, but normal.

EastSky is a community high school that has no dress codes that distinguish itself from other high schools. Any student can wear anything they want with reasonable means, with no 18+ content showing.

Today was just like any other day for the two students enrolled in EastSky. They were currently 1.5 miles away from school. Just a couple of minutes ahead of the school's bell schedule, indicating that they have less than 15 minutes left until school starts.

"I'm not a damn Chunibyo, I'm a Person of Culture, Dumbass!" Loudly proclaimed Eric, slightly offended by being referred to as a mere Chunibyo.

Spinning around on his heels, he raised both of his arms up to his side in emphasis of his proclamation. Eric walked backwards, facing Allen with a proud look on his face. Looking like he accomplished something important at that exact moment.

"*Yawn* Yeah, yeah. Whatever keeps that non-existent ego of yours standing." Allen said with a tired yawn, rubbing his baggy eyes with his thumb and index finger in order to keep himself awake. He stared forward, disregarding Chunibyo's proclamation and his entire being altogether.

"*Snort* If I'm a Chunibyo. Then you're just a damn Weeb." Eric sneered mockingly, with a smug smile on his face as if he revealed some hidden secret.

"At least I can beat noobs in video games. Unlike some cultured person." Retorted Allen calmly, as he rolled his eyes in the process of this person's own retort and an open secret to anyone who knew him.

"That was one time. One time Dammit!" Chunibyo heatedly said, huffing as he turned around facing forward, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Tell that to the scoreboard Noob." Taunted Allen with a small smirk forming on his lips by the reaction he got from Eric.

Eric didn't verbally reply. Instead, he kept walking (stomping his feet), and raised his left hand above his shoulder, flipping Allen the bird.

Allen lightly chuckled as he watched his best friend brood over the fact he lost a match against a noob.

A noob of all people. It was irony to its finest.

It was quite hilarious really. Eric is a beast at action role playing games. For every boss, whether it has twice, triple, or is way out of his level cap. He always dives forward, laughing like a kid on sugar rush, disregarding his health entirely, and starts button mashing on his keyboard at the boss.

And in every encounter, whether the opponent is a behemoth of muscle or an elderlich abomination. For every fight he has fought, for every run in, for every battle he has ever faced, he always comes out victorious with a tired satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

He's fast thinking, executes decision's immediately, makes plans on the fly, and has the determination that can rival that of a partial martial artist.

Yet fundamentally, he sucks at first person shooting, and any, and all types of large team playing games.

He can only truly shine when it's a small group of people he's playing with. Allen, Tristan, and Eric himself, were in the top 20 ranking board for clans from an MMORPG game that they play on the weekends.

Just three people in a clan went all the way to the 10th place. Allen is the long ranged damage controller that always keeps the aggro in check. Tristan is the tank, taking the most damage when the situation calls for it. While Eric is in the front line dishing out combos left and right.

Truly a team worthy of the name "Heaven's Wings''. Because each and every individual in that clan is a pillar of wings that can bring hope onto the battlefield where an impossible situation turns into a reality.

Really, it's no wonder everyone hates the-

"Hey Allen." A soft spoken voice broke Allen's train of thought.

"Hmm, Yeah." Almost lazily, Allen turned his head to the source of the voice, locking his eyes onto Eric's slouched form who moved to his right side while he was deep in thought.

". . . Do you think?" Eric paused, hesitation and slight nervousness took root in his whole frame. He breathed in and out, trying to relax from the tension in his frame. ". . . Do you think Oliver would have liked our clan." Eric said uncertainty.