Chapter 0: Embers of Home

A man walks through a town, everything showing signs of being scorched. His winter outfit betraying the actual heat around him. His gaze passes dozens of burned stores and cars. He hears something in the distance and turns to a destroyed apartment building. His steps are slow but careful.

A young boy crying in the middle of the destroyed ruins once his home. He flinches seeing the big man in a bulky winter outfit. A loud sigh comes from that man before he gently walks over. His eyes looks at the burns on the boy's hands and feet. "What's your name kid?"

"R-Rollo!" The kid stutters being intimidated by this man's build before a pair of gloves are tossed to him. He looks up at the man in confusion at the gesture but his hands stings horribly. "ah! ow..."

"Put them on, they're going to help with the pain for now." That man says slowly undoing his boots straps. His voice is deep and powerful, it's not even a debate on putting those gloves on. They strangely have a blue inside and some silver grid pattern.

"Huh? They feel soothing..." Rollo looks at the hand already in one of the gloves. His hands feel cooled and honestly less in pain. They're slightly too big on his hands but size doesn't matter when getting relief from those burns. He turns to the man with new curiosity and hope. "Are you a Keeper?"

"Yeah, Kid, one of the keepers who..." His gaze looks around the burnt ruins and sighs. He removes the pair of boots before tossing them to Rollo. "We snuffed out these cursed flames and put these on, your feet will get infected without it."

"T-Thanks..." Rollo looks at the pretty big boots which weirdly adjusts to his size. That man is his feet made of ice and magma? He's curious but then tears spread across his face from his gold and blue eyes. "Where is everyone? What h-happened...."

The man places a cold hand on looking into Rollo's crying eyes with empathy. It's almost like this man feels his pain and sighs. "I'm sorry, I couldn't save everyone... Now, you should live in honor of those lost." He says wipes some tears.

"O-Okay..." Rollo doesn't exactly understand but this man's presence helps in some way. He wipes more of the tears. "Oh um... Who are you mister keeper?"

"I'm Jack Archer, a local keeper... Now, Kid, there's a nearby camp that's been searching for survivors, follow me." Jack has this somber expression while standing up, seeing this kid makes a heavy pit in his stomach. He holds out a hand to the kid and Rollo hesitates following Jack but has no choice...

- Event report: Date 12/7/2042

On that day, an area distortion called Embers of Home appeared at a mountain range. It quickly spread across the whole mountains before reaching a forest and affected local settlements. Only few survivors were found that day, it appeared these flames were corruptive by nature and if anyone who prolonged exposure had a chance of it mutating them into fire-based distortions.

All who lived through it got horrible burn marks on their bodies which seemed to never faded. These marks reappear even after skin grafting and other methods of removing burn scars. The 30 Keeper squad who went in to neutralize this distortion suffered these types of wounds the most and lost 7 agents during the battle.

Eight years later, as times change and people grow older. Jack moved up in rank but also grew a family adopting a few of the orphans from his biggest mission. That child Rollo may have lost everything, he gained a second chance that his neighbors would've wished for...

An annoyed Jack looks at a door before yelling towards Rollo's bedroom. "Rollo!?! If you're late for your first day at the agency, you're getting kicked out!" The house almost shakes at his volume.

"Gods, I'm just getting ready, Dad! No need to yell..." Rollo opens the door, his older self dwarfs that small child Jack found in that burnt apartment. "Irene doesn't like it when you yell, remember?"

"I've been calling you since breakfast was done, do you have cotton in your ears..." Jack grumbles walking back to the kitchen. The smell of scrambled eggs and sausage hits Rollo as they walk down the stairs.

"Oops! I was uh, distracted..." Rollo scratches his messy orange hair while walking into the kitchen. He sees a small girl with silver eyes and gives her a bright smile. "Hey Irene, uh, sorry dad had to yell."

"Um, just turn down what you're listening too, please?" Irene doesn't really get whatever Rollo was doing but it must've been a hearing thing right? She scratches her scarred cheek, an old slash wound from long ago. "Dad, please don't be too harsh on him..." She's weirdly airy in her tone.

"Ugh, I am but he needs to stop focusing on those videos..." Jack huffed in annoyance and is unable to disagree with Irene. He places some more scrambled eggs on her plate with a light grin. "Sorry sweetie, It's hard when I'm loud by nature." He ruffles Irene's hair walking away.

"Hey, I'm about to join the Keepers agency! I need all the stories to know the stuff I will deal with...." Rollo sits back in his chair and sighs. He looks down at his prepared plate of food which has gone cold, Jack's usual punishment for being late to breakfast. "I won't need to listen too intensely when I'm a keeper, alright?"

"Honestly Rollo, I'd prefer you follow that art career than the keeper one, this is a life or death job." Jack sits down with the whole weight of his body. He gives Rollo that heavy pressure from that glare. "I don't want to lose a son."

"I'm sure of myself on this, I want this! Distortions may hurt more people..." Rollo's eyes look to Irene before focusing on his food. He's not letting Jack's intimidation get him to think otherwise. He is firm in his goals. "What good is my art if the world burns again, Dad?"

"You- Ugh, I don't want to get into this again but I hope you're careful, If I have to bail you out of a bad situation-" Jack notices Irene's reaction to him getting slightly angry. He rubs his temples and sighs deeply. "You're young, I just don't want you to throw away your future for fighting monsters..."

"That... You should stop worrying, I know what I'm getting into and that never discourages me." Rollo holds his head high and glares back at Jack. He's tired of his father's disapproval to make him second guess this path. "You're a keeper and I will join you up there, don't doubt me."

"Is that foolishness or bravery, Rollo? You best figure out which you fall under before stepping in that building." Jack leans forwards to test Rollo's resolve and sees him not bend even when this much pressure is used... He lets out a hearty chuckle. "You're definitely a kid I raised, stubborn as steel."

Irene just quietly watches this happen, not brave enough to stand with Rollo or Jack but nods when her brother wins out. Rollo looks at the time and freaks out! The nearby test to join the keepers will be starting in an hour! He quickly rushes his meal with a look of determination.

"Hey Dad, isn't there a problem with the trains today?" Irene looks towards Jack concerned and tilts her head. She's clueless on the big deal that is. "Was there um... reports?"

"Hah! Rollo, the last train before it gets shut down is in twenty minutes." Jack gives his son a wide grin and chuckles heartily. "You should've been focusing on things around you, kid."

"Gah- I'm an idiot!" Rollo starts to rush out of the kitchen and runs out of the back door. He's quick to swap out a pair of boots before exiting the house. He has no time to pay attention towards anything else. "Crap, Did I grab my keys..." A slight mistake to deal with later....

Rho City, one of the surviving bastions for the shattered american landmass. This disaster born island houses the east office for the Keepers Agency main brain where Rollo's desire lies. In a world of absurdity where people fight off living disasters with weapons of strange origins, you need to stand firm in your goals or be devoured by the end...

Jack sighs while picking up a set of forgotten keys. He stands up and looks towards Irene. "Finish getting ready, we have a job to do soon... Today can't get much worse." He says before walking into the living room to pick up an old winter jacket.