Disclaimer for story: I DO NOT OWN SOUL EATER!
Prologue: The Girl with the Claymore
The Arizona's morning sun was hot as it beat mercilessly on the arid landscape bellow. Hardly anything that suggested life in this forsaken place had long since retired with the sun's gradual rise over the mountains.
There was, however, one subject of life; a lone figure that seemed to be walking aimless in the desert landscape, and yet knew precisely where it was headed to. No one had or would notice the being walking along a road that clearly wasn't there, and that was the way the person liked it.
The figure was shrouded in a long, thick cloak that seemed a poor choice in the current climate, and yet the person didn't appear to be anywhere close to collapsing from heat. A large scabbard was slung on the person's back along with a backpack that hardly had any shape to it, showing that it was near complete depletion of its contents, if there had been any to begin with.
A strong wind momentarily came about, ruffling the cloak with the intention of it being thrown into the air. A small hand came up from where the two sides met and grabbed hold of the garment's clasp to keep it from flapping about too much, and slowly released it when the current had died down; abruptly stopping, the figure looked off into the distance.
Up ahead, with the appearance of a spiraling hill, Death City stood in the distance. Lifting the hood up, two azure eyes peered out over the distance. By the rate now being traveled, the person calculated that it would be close to noon when the city was arrived at, not that was a problem or anything.
Adjusting the cargo on the back, the person continued on its trek to Death City.