I remember thinking how I refused to believe that the world was going to end. Even now, after everything I've been through, I find it hard to accept defeat. Most people would have laughed at the idea. Can you imagine telling your neighbor or coworker that today was their last normal day? That everything they know would end in a blink of an eye? They would laugh as if it were a joke and move on with their lives.

My grandfather believed. He devoted his life to the legend of the armors, and did his best to teach me what he had learned if the end came in my lifetime. Even with all my knowledge, I realize now how much I truly didn't know.

That day started like any other. I was studying at the university with my grandfather when the storm blew in. At first, I didn't think much of it. After all, it was mid summer; storms gathered and passed almost on a whim. But Grandfather knew, and when the wind blew open the windows and wreaked havoc on my organized piles if research, I felt it too.

The cold touch of evil.

He was surprisingly calm about it, when I think back. He didn't panic or raise his voice. He simply...accepted. As though he had been waiting for this moment. Maybe he had. After devoting one's life to a legend, I suppose it is gratifying to finally have some confirmation to its existence, even if said existence is hellbent on ending your own.

He gave me certain keywords to type into the computer, and I remember the beeping and buzzing it made as it sifted through years of research. As more and more details of the legend populated the screen, I realized just what the end really meant. The planet wasn't going to explode and life wasn't going to cease to be.

Enslavement, servitude, a life filled with pain and fear. The end of life as we know it. Maybe the city would be destroyed; we would be used as a warning to the rest if the world. Look at what we can do, and know there is nothing you can do to stop it.

I had some time to digest this information, to think about it. Would it end in a flash, a blink of an eye, or would it be slow, something that washes over the city like a wave, sending people fleeing uselessly before it?

But then a bulletin on the television caught my attention. I don't know what made me draw the conclusion that he was a Ronin Warrior. Maybe it was his stance, the aura he seemed to resonate even through the television. Or perhaps it was blind instinct, or even an empty wish on my part. But even as I called Grandfather to see, I knew I was right, and his confirmation only solidified my instinct.

I memorized everything I could about him, what he was wearing, his hair, his face, even the way he stared unperturbed by the attention. He was simply there to do his duty, whether the rest of the world cared or not.

I raced out of the room determined to bring him back. Surely a Ronin Warrior would know what was going on. After all, this is what they trained for, I thought. This was their mission. Little did I know they were simply young boys who had even less of an idea of what to do than I did.

The world ended before I got there.

The power went out first. And I mean power for everything. Anything that required a source of power to work, be it lights, machinery, or cars, instantly stopped working. The city was plunged into chaos. People just couldn't comprehend what was going on. I knew what was going on and even I had trouble understanding why.

Regardless, I had my mission to carry out, and I ended up borrowing an officer's bike to keep going. That's when the lightning got bad. That's when the panic really set in.

The masses turned into a writhing stampede of fear, and it took everything in my power to escape the crushing force. I ducked into an alley, debating the best way to make it to my destination when a huge bolt of lightning struck.

The entire street lit up, and in that flash, the world went quiet.

Everyone was gone.

I sat there for a few moments, uncomprehending. It happened so fast, I couldn't process it. Thousands of people, gone in a second. Were they dead? Captured? Disintegrated? There was nothing left, not even piles of ash...

I quickly pushed the thought away and got to my feet, pulling my bike upright. I still had my mission. I had to hope that he hadn't been caught in the blast.

As I made my way downtown, I began to realize just how widespread that light really had been. No one was left. At least, no one in the city had been left. I didn't even want to think about the possibility of it being any more widespread than that. Maybe there were more stragglers like me, but I never saw them.

Then I noticed the noises, the sound of metal scraping against stone and concrete. I pedaled faster and raced down an alleyway, and found myself on a battlefield.

I was elated that he was still alive, his tiger by his side. He looked different; his clothes had changed from street wear to a strange red and white armor. Somewhere in my foggy mind, I approved. It made sense to wear armor when doing battle. But my chest filed with dread when I saw what he was fighting.

It looked like a giant suit of armor, larger than any man I had ever seen. It towered over the boy, its taunting voice echoing strangely when it spoke.

Otherworldly...

That word stuck out in my head as I watched the boy struggle against it. Its weapon was a chain attached to a miniature scythe, and it spun it wickedly. I imagined it was smiling under its faceplate, if its tone was anything to go by.

The boy and the tiger worked together to try to bring the armor down, but neither could break through its defenses. He needed help, but help never came.

Then the boy leapt back, out of range of the moving armor and yelled something. I thought I heard something about fire when he began to glow bright red. I shielded my eyes, and as I blinked away the resulting spots, I saw his armor had changed.

It was a reinforced and rather stylized version of what he was previously wearing. He now had a helmet with two sword like horns curved on either side. His body armor looked thicker and had multiple deflecting plates to protect his neck, arms, and legs. He immediately pulled twin swords from his back and shifted into a defensive stance. He was obviously worn down, but he still had a defiant look in his eye.

I wanted to help him. He cut quite the imposing figure in full battle armor, but I had seen what was beneath. He was just a boy, and he needed help.

I looked around me for anything I could use. I thought for a maddening moment I could be a distraction, create an opening the boy could use to take the armored soldier down. But then something exploded just down the street from where I was crouched, and in my panic, my mind cleared. This was beyond anything I could do. I was in way over my head. Yes, he was just a boy, but he could wield power beyond a normal human's ability, and even then he was struggling against this evil thing. What could I do that he could not?

I had never been in a fight not seen a battlefield, but even my untrained eye could see the boy was losing the fight. The tiger jumped in at times, serving as a much better distraction than I ever could, giving the boy time to step back and recover for moments at a time before he leapt back into the fray.

I wondered how much longer he could last before he gave out when he took a particularly nasty blow and fell. He did not rise.

I will tell you instinct took over, but I couldn't tell you which one. I ran from my cover and immediately went to his side. I remember yelling at myself in the back of my mind, but it was ignored in favor of tending to the boy. His face was covered in scratches and bruises, and he tanned skin looked pale in the strange non light that covered the city. I imagined the rest if his body was in a similar state, but his armor covered everything completely, even the joints of his fingers. But most importantly, he was still breathing, even if it a bit ragged.

"What's this? A guest?"

I never considered myself to be brave, but then again, I had never been out in a situation that required it. Looking back, I'm proud to say I ignored the soldier in favor of tending to the boy. I'll also tell you it was one of the dumbest things I've done in my life. The boy stirred when I removed his helmet and blinked at me. His eyes were the most startling shade of blue I had seen, and I forgot what I was going to say even before I opened my mouth.

"You shouldn't be here!" He ground out as he tried to rise.

His voice was sharp, but halting as he tried to speak around the pain. A growl came from behind me and I realized my second mistake, the first being running out on the battlefield at all. I had forgotten about the tiger.

I don't know a lot about tigers. I studied ancient armor, after all, but I vaguely remembered a wildlife show I had seen some time ago about tigers. Something about being territorial and extremely protective of their cubs, and I was sitting between a tiger and its cub, even if said cub was human.

"White Blaze, get her out if here."

I hadn't freaked out up to that point, but when the tiger latched on to my arm and pulled, I screamed. It immediately let go, which I was grateful for. I suppose the actual physical contact sent me over the edge. I still think of that moment and wonder what would have happened if I had just let Blaze do what he needed to do. I hate myself a little for freaking out about the one thing that could have saved my life. Everything else in that battlefield was hellbent on destruction, and I scream at the one meant to save me. Real smart.

The boy must have been revitalized by my scream. He immediately got up and shoved me behind him, using the momentum to propel himself to his feet.

"Ready for another round?" The soldier mocked. It began to swing the scythe again, creating a high pitched whir. I watched as the boy tightened his grip on his swords even as he gasped for breath. With his helmet off, (brilliant move on the battlefield, way to go Mia), I could see that his hair was surprisingly long, ending just between his shoulder blades.

It was in that moment that everything fell apart.

It's strange what we remember in times of distress. I remember the blue of his eyes as the boy was flung to the side. I remember how white the tiger's fur was against the grey of the chain that wrapped around its body. And I remember thinking of my grandfather as the chains wrapped around my body.

My next thought was pain. The chains bit into my skin as the soldier pulled me across the battlefield until I was held against its side. It was incredibly cold, and it sucked the heat out of my body like a sponge soaked up water.

The boy yelled something, I couldn't make it out over the sound of my blood pounding in my ears. I was panicking, hyperventilating, and in more pain than I even thought possible. The edges of my world were turning black, and I wanted him to save me. Anyone, anything, to save me.

The last thing I remember was a ringing sound. It was faint, but it seemed to cut through my panic, and it left a warmth in my chest. Then the world exploded with light, and I finally gave in, and my world went black.