Author's note: Alright, it's been a really long time since I've written/posted up a work of mine. Lately I've been obsessed with Vocaloid and so now here I am, posting up a fanfic! I didn't think I'd ever manage to get my creative juices flowing again. Anyway, hope you enjoy and... I've made a lot of adjustments with EVERYTHING to make it all fit with the story in my insane brain. So if it's not in character or not how you like it, I beg of you to review it for how well it has been written, not how astray it is from your line of thought on how everything should go. Keep in mind, these are amateur fanfics.

Also, this prelude starts out with Akaito (yes, I am having a WHOLE bunch of fan made Vocaloids in this... so if you own one that I use, they rightfully belong to you and if I portray them wrong, send me a message or something and I'll see what I can do if I can do anything.). And the Master, as he is called in my story, is someone that I've made up pretty much... I just hope the whole story is okay. I know how easily obsessive fans (like me) get offended by how someone portrays things... so I'm letting you know ahead of time this is obscured from anything and is kind of off the top of my head with a little bit of information that I know about Vocaloid.

Disclaimer's note: I don't own Vocaloid. The programs belong to Yamaha... or Crypton... or which ever one! All I know is that I don't own them! I just own the content of my story!

Let the journey begin!

Prelude

As he walked, he thought about everything that had happened. Master had abandoned him and four of his companions and kicked them to the curb. They had been good enough…until Master created better, more satisfactory versions of them.

Stopping his walk to look back on the path he was traveling, he leaned slightly towards the cherry blossom tree nearby. As the small, light touch of the wind caressed him, an alluring whirlwind of pink petals flew about his presence. The male's gaze seemed to see through the limits of the sky, but a hint of sorrow filled the everlasting path of his sight. He was abandoned by the one who created him, the one who he thought of as 'father. He was now alone… at least until he could find the others who had suffered the same fate as he.

The man sat down, letting his red gaze fall to the ground and his equally fiery hair fall over his eyes. The device on his ear immediately branded him as a machine known as 'Vocaloid', but the microphone piece that was supposed to be attached was gone, signifying him as an outcast, since he was, after all, abandoned. It was the official mark of being obsolete.

A hint of rage and anger suddenly surged through him as he sat and let the darkness of his thoughts flurry through his mind. Before he was force to leave, he had the pleasure of seeing what was going to replace him. It infuriated him to know that the one unit to replace him looked identical to him. The only difference between the two of them was the different color scheme, one that contrasted his own.

In his memory, he recalled the look, actions and sounds of his successor. In contrast to himself, this version had icy blue eyes and hair to match. He wore the same long coat, but with a different color scheme of blue and yellow. The one thing that bothered him mostly about this replacement was that his personality was completely opposite of his successor. This personality of his replacement was that of a kind, cute, young, naïve child and this angered him considerably. Why must a Vocaloid of his kind, strong willed and mature, be replaced by such a childish successor!?

Pain shimmered through the pictures the red head daydreamed like a slim, silver line of dust, bringing him back to the reality of his situation. His fists had been clenched together tightly, digging just deep enough into his skin to draw a small amount of blood. Loosening his angered fists, he leaned against the tree behind him, leaning his gaze upward.

A feeling of revenge toward his Master seemed to tingle through his veins, his rage growing ever more vivid. Such vivid anger drew upon his creative mind as he began to plot this goal he created. Watching as various suggestions came into mind, one idea stopped him. He slowly allowed his sorrow to turn into vengeance as he told himself out loud.

"Destroy the threat…"