Arrkein

Being a bottom feeder in society is an unpleasant experience.

That's how Kiro felt after being left for dead in a back alley. Abandoned and disappointed by the 'work hard' ethic his parents left for him.

'At least the heavens are weeping for me.'	As the light from his eyes faded, he declared as the last act of defiance.

He awoke in a room he hadn't seen in ten years. Whether it was due to sheer luck or divine intervention, he was grateful.

'Through the VR game, Asgard, I'll become filthy rich in this life time.'


Kiro was blissfully unaware that his return was a cry for something greater, for the underlying threats that hovered over his world.

The Earth After Rebirth

As he was left to his devices, Hiro put every negative thought at the back of his mind. He didn't want it affecting his relationship with the steel that was beginning to take shape on the steel table. So he kept them at bay, far away.

His attention was entirely on what he was crafting. He didn't even know how many weapons he'd crafted so far, his shop was littered with metal. From weapons to armour, even concoctions.

The warmth the room exuded was something he took comfort in. He remembered the first time he walked into a craftsman's shop, he could barely breathe. Now, the hotter the better it was for him.

He loved the shop he had in their base. It was far better than his master's, as better as it was, it didn't make him as good as Rufian. That frustrated him greatly. He wished there was a way to go back to that small village, and continue craftsmanship under his tutelage.

Crafting