The black haired boy took one last look at the DWMA. This would be the last time he would see the academy, or even Death City. He had enough waiting to find his perfect meister, sitting around wasn't going to help him become a Death Scythe any sooner. He sighed as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked into the desert. But he wondered what his purpose in life would be now that he wasn't going to attend the academy. Family wasn't an option, having shunned him. He just wished that he could fight kishins just without the need of the DWMA. The academy was fine, but he just didn't like following the orders of the teachers and staff. He couldn't help it, he was naturally defiant. After thinking out what his next move should be, a impulsive thought came to mind. 'I could just start my own group... Yeah right, I don't even have a meister.' Though he passed the idea off as stupid, it kept returning to his mind. Every time it did, he would come up with an excuse on why it would fail, but he gradually began to believe that it wouldn't. "The hell with it, I'm starting my own group!" He yelled out to no one in particular. Although the shouting was completely unnecessary, it felt good to yell out. With new hope and plans set up in his mind, he began sprinting to Death knows where. In hopes of finding some potential members for his new group.