PROLOGUE: SHADOWS

It was a cold and Misty night. In a remote forest located somewhere in the N federation, buried deep in the ground was a structure that only a select few knew of its existence. It was a training ground for one of the most dangerous group of Assassins-The Skull Brotherhood. Deep in this ultra-secret facility, at the very heart of this underground facility sometimes referred to as The Fortress, was a room the most guarded part of the fortress. It was the place where the chief head of the skulls reside. At that moment, an old man was in that very room deep in meditation. His hair was so gray it took on a whitish appearance. His body was so thin it looked like he was being ravaged by a wasting disease. He seemed to be meditating before a form of altar. Only a single candle was lit casting the room in meagre light that succeeded in diminishing a person’s eyesight instead of illuminating the room.

The chief head was deep in meditation hardly moving, breathing in or out only every few minutes or so. Suddenly, there was a shift in the temperature as a wind slowly blew in from an unseen source. The candle flames flickered before it regained its strength. A minute passed without any interruptions as the old man/chief head continued his meditation. He breathed in one last time and exhaled slowly. He stood up slowly and gingerly resting sorely on a sheathed sword. He turned slowly and spoke for the first time in the three days he retreated to meditate.

"You young ones really have no respect for your elders interrupting an old man meditation”

The formerly empty room suddenly increased in number as five figures seemingly appeared from nowhere. Their shadow whipping behind them like snakes. They were all heavily armed and their weapons were drawn.

"Well, this should be interesting." said the old Man.

He switched the sheathed weapon to his right hand and withdrew a short wooden stick seemingly out of nowhere with his left hand.

"This should be enough" said the Old Man cheerily with a wide smile as he held out the short stick pointing at them.

As one, the five assembled figure attacked in a myriad of moves and the Old man smile grew splitting his face in to a gruesome mask. There was a sudden whoosh of air and the candle flickered once again, a second later the candle light stabilised cast the room in its feeble light showing the five figures sprawled out before the Old Man. He was still standing in the same position leaning on the sheathed sword but there was a difference, his left hand holding the stick was covered in blood and so where the five figures were on the floor. Each had various wounds which were seeping out blood steadily and staining the floor.

"What a mess." he said opening his red glazed eyes to survey the carnage around him

“I wonder how long it will take for Little Rico to bring back my Granddaughter. After all the games are just starting. "

He turned back and settled back into a comfortable position to continue meditating.