Syal

More and more obscure times fall on a place known as district 42. Poverty can be seen everywhere you go. Misery resides in the lives of every citizen. A thin line is about to be crossed. The final battle will soon begin. On the one hand, those who value tradition, order; On the other, those who cry out for freedom. Everyone knows, although no one claims ... but the district flag will soon burn. However, in an event perhaps headed by fate, a soldier wakes up. A man transported from another world, plunging into all the Chaos spread over that place. Perhaps, the only man capable of extinguishing the flames of that cruel war.

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District 42

Alfar raised from the ground slowly, his breathing was still unsteady, and his mind was going groggy because of the lack of oxygen. His hands were trembling as well, and he couldn't bring himself to think of something other than the need for breathing he had.

It was an excruciating situation. He knew inside that it would be just a matter of seconds before he could breathe again, but still, his mind wouldn't let him get rid of the anxiety of not being able to do so immediately. It was a natural response of defense that the body had, after all.

He stood on his feet, although his legs weren't so steady. They were shaking and weak. He stared at Anton, who was looking back at him for a while without moving an inch.

"This guy… what the hell is he doing? He is supposed to try to finish me, isn't he?" The Dark elf needed some time to process what the old man had said to him when he was still agonizing in the ground.

Similars part 2