Field Of Distortions
Prologue: Matshin of the Twisters
The sun slowly arose on a cool summer morning in the small town of Longville, Minnesota. A young boy around the age of 13 awoke from his bed as the rays of light hit his lightly tanned face. He walked down to the kitchen in a morning daze, hoping his older brother hadn't awakened yet.
"Heya, Matshin!" A devilish voice called.
The boy sighed. "Hi, Spade." He said to his older brother of 17.
Matshin and Spade never got along that well, as Spade would usually pick on him.
Spade rushed up to him and gabbed him by the collar. "Where's the money?"
"I-I don't have any."
"Wrong answer." Spade drew back his fist and flung it foreword.
"Stop!" Matshin yelled and raised his hands to defend himself.
Suddenly, a blue aura appeared from Matshin's fingertips and sent Spade flying into the wall.
"What the hell was that?!" Spade yelled.
But when he turned to face Matshin, he was already gone.
"Was that a-a-a distortion?!" Spade thought to himself.
"Matshin is a Twister?! OH NO!!!"
