Chapter 1: Arad
What if Arad was no longer what people knew it to be? After centuries passed, Arad was transformed into a place where only evil scum thrived. Every inch of snow, dirt, and concrete was infested with bloodshed. The only safe haven was Empyrean. The Magatha was left in Arad, and many years as well as money were spent on fortifying the defenses of Empyrean so that no man or monster could reach the safe haven. But even though Empyrean was the only safe place to live, it did not rule out criminals living there. Some individuals turn to a life of crime, some detest the life they currently live, some want adventure, some want a thrill, but most are caught and jailed before any harm could even be done. However, there was a day where a tragedy happened. And it all began on a sunny day.
"Stop that man! But be careful of the hostages!" An officer yelled.
Police officers were following a man named Trake throughout Ghent. Trake was on a motorcycle with two female hostages. He held a small child on his side, with an older girl on a side car. The hostages were tied and had tape over their mouths. The police didn't shoot for it was too risky. A wrong shot could hit the girls. Hitting the driver could cause him to lose control of his motorcycle, leading to a possible crash of civilians and harm to the hostages.
"Hahaha! Can't do a godd***ed thing to me, can you?" Trake taunted.
"We need reinforcements! A blockade to stop him from going into Sectors 5, 7, and 8!" A police officer radioed.
As the officers continued to follow Trake, more and more vehicles started to appear, blocking off various streets. Trake changed routes every few seconds, concerned with getting trapped.
"More reinforcements! We can't let him escape!" The same police officer exclaimed into his radio.
"D***, they're piling on the backup. There's only one chance for me." Trake said, turning into a street.
Trake headed into a more open area, a marketplace of sorts. However it didn't take long for the police officer to learn what Trake was doing.
"He's heading for the cliff! We need to block him off, PRONTO!" The officer yelled.
Trake accelerated to the cliff, it was his only choice on escaping. The police were right behind him. They were catching up, only meters behind Trake's motorcycle. Reinforcements couldn't come fast enough, and after only a few seconds, Trake stopped and he was staring off of the cliff, the ocean shining underneath.
"Don't even try," A police officer said while holding a gun, "just let the girls go and there's a chance you'll be alive."
"What makes you think I'll just let the girls go?" Trake responded.
"What makes you think you'll live if you decide to do what you're planning? There's no choice, either you live or die."
"Hmph, I'll be living, but not in that city."
Trake pulled out a flash grenade and a regular grenade out. He threw both of them at the crow of police officers. While the police officers jumped away, he got a parachute and took the older girl out of her seat and jumped off the cliff.
"Dammit!" A police officer yelled.
"What do we do now?" Another one asked.
"Notify the parents of those hostages. There's nothing we can do now. They'll need a miracle if they hope to come back alive." Another one replied.
Trake didn't open his parachute while falling down to the ocean below. When he and his hostages touched water, they continued to fall. Farther and farther they went, it seemed to never end. Suddenly, they could see light. They fell to the light, closer and closer with each second. Once their heads were passed the light, they were able to breathe. But there was another problem. The ocean they were in was actually in the sky, and as such, they were now currently falling thousands of feet.
"Good thing I have this parachute!" Trake said.
He opened it up and had a smooth descent, although the landing was a bit rough as they landed in a forest. He dropped the girls onto some bushes while he got caught in some trees.
Once he got on his feet he said, "This is just great! And further more, it seems you guys are alive, too."
A look of lust was apparent on his face. As he got closer, a man appeared from behind.
"Hello, ladies and gentleman." The man said.
"Who's there?" Trate quickly turned around.
"My name is York." The man walked closer. He was tall, wearing a black suit and top hat, with white hair lying underneath. Small, round glasses sheltered his eyes and white gloves covered his hands. He was very much like a Male Gunner. His cane echoed with every step.
"A pretty boy, ay? What do you want?"
"I just want to know what business you have for being here."
"What does it matter?
"I'll ask again, what are you doing here?"
"Listen buddy, I do whatever the heck I want. I don't need to answer you."
"...Look here now. I'll ask a third time. What are you doing? I recommend you answer me now, or there will be some very unfortunate consequences."
"You know what?" Trate pulled out a gun, "I already have enough of y-"
And like that, Trate was dead. York's cane hid a sword, which was used to go through Trate's heart. York took the sword out and sliced off Trate's head. It was a very unfortunate sight for both the hostages, especially the little one. York then walked to the hostages...