He was not a remarkable man by any measures. Not in height, weight, looks, skills, knowledge, luck or anything else. The best way to describe him was average. He worked in an office at his day job to earn an average income, only to return home to an empty flat. There was no one to welcome him; Heck, there was actually no one of importance in his life.

Sure, he had quite a few acquaintances; School, work, neighborhood, you name it he had them. However, none of these acquaintances were actually his friends. He had no one to confide in, not that he had any thing in particular to talk about. If you had asked any of his acquaintances about him, you would know that nobody thought much of him.

No one particularly liked him and no one particularly hated him. Not even the bullies of his childhood hated him. He just somehow ended up as the victim. Perhaps it was because he never really defended himself, or maybe it was because some people are just plain evil.

If you had to mention one thing about him that stuck out, compared to everything else, it would be that he had an impeccable memory. Memories of being beaten, stripped, thrown, splashed, pushed, pulled, tricked, ridiculed, embarrassed and even killed. Yes, even killed. Now, I will not pretend that he does not harbor any anger towards the individuals, who just somehow ended up meeting him in a totally random place, just outside his flat, just so they could stab him in the stomach and then leave him to die…

You cannot make sense of it either right? Neither can I. How dare these sons of women-who-sells-themselves-on-street-corners-to-sweaty-pig-like-financial-tycoons-only-to-be-left-with-slightly-awkward-and-nasty-offspring stab me? Now I admit that I might not have been the best person in the world, but surely, there are other people they could have stabbed besides me?! And what the hell is this?! One second ago, I was laying on the ground barely able to think, creating my own pool of blood for insects to bathe in, and now I am in this dark space!

Fifth Saintsday of the Dragon, 1257 A.E.

“Deep within the plains of the northeast, where only might and brawn can decide your future, lies the lands of humanity. Bask in the glory of the humans, revere their might, revere their brawn and ridicule their deeeaaath!“

Laughter was booming from the stands, shaking the very foundations of the arena, as if an earthquake had hit this very area and ruptured the earth within it. The audience were in euphoria. It had been one full season cycle since they last saw activity in this very arena, where human slaves were killing each other, fighting for their loved ones, while the spectators laid down their bets, feasted on the savage antics of the barbarians known as humans.

It was beneath those stands, far away from the blood of the arena, that something completely different was taking place. The screams that resounded throughout the cellars where the gladiators were kept, were even more vicious than the screams from the arena. They were the screams of a woman giving birth…

“What? Whaat? What is this?!”

As the white light approached him, the darkness was split, as if a blade of white had cut through the darkness. The sounds were increasingly getting louder, and several voices could be heard.

“Somebody tell me what th-“

Why will my voice not come out? Why is it that all I can hear are the cries of a baby?

Suddenly somebody grabbed him. It was an incomparable iron-grip. Not once had he experienced such a David versus Goliath situation, that strength was that of a thousand beasts.

Get your hands off me! What are you do- Hey! That is not supposed to be there! Don’t cu-

- Proofread by Seven