Prologue
The sky was cloudless and the air humid, with no sign of rain. On an ordinary night, the stars would have shone. On an ordinary night, the world would have been silent. Yet this was no ordinary night. Plumes of smoke rose to smother the stars. Beneath a somber sky, the land burned red with pitiless flame.
Screams and cries pierced the night, calling out in rage and grief, begging for deliverance. The stench of blood rose skyward on a storm of clashing steel. An unstoppable tide of malice surged through the streets, cutting down innocent lives in its path. It was brutal. The work of fiends. But it was reality, and reality would not be denied.
“Hope comes only to those who know despair,” the masked boy murmured as he watched the town burn.
His voice was level, far too calm for the frightful spectacle before him. His words carried no inflection. No emotion lay within. An effect lent by the mask obscuring his expression, perhaps—or perhaps not.
“Hate me all you like. I won’t ask for your forgiveness.”
His right hand rose to touch his mask as he seared the sight into his memory. The night wind set his mantle billowing even as he dismissed the air he wore.
“It’s finally time for this stalemate to end.”
Cries for help reached his ears. He lifted a hand, thinking for a moment to answer them—and let it fall.
“No. I won’t pretend to be a savior.”
Casting aside every last shred of compassion, he turned and spread his arms wide.
“Let us go to war!”
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