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

Two youths were sitting on the ruins of what was once a kingdom. They couldn't measure when it crumbled down, nor say with certainty why they decided to destroy it, but the fact was that even the castle was reduced to nothing but wreckage.

It was a sad and happy sight. It would just depend on the person's perspective...

"Hey, Leif. Do you think that it is sad?" Wayland asked, looking at the youth beside him. Leif was corpulent and had blond hair so light that nearly seemed dyed in white. He had a serious face nearly all the time.

Wayland didn't like to look at his eyes. Whenever he did it, he thought that Leif was looking at something that was... wrong.

He had the eyes of a judge. His gaze upon something only meant that it could be fixed.

It was different from the visionary eyes of the emperor. Leif didn't want an empire, nor advancement, nor anything like that.

The birth of a district