AUTHOR'S NOTE
If you read my previous fic, "RMNTs of Our Past", just know that one day I might come back to it. I hated that I just was redundant at the prologues, and I will one day edit them to a different way possible. But for now, Im writing this. Sorry for those who might have been waiting for the 4th prologue (Even though I doubt there was anyone waiting…. =/ )
A ambient group of people loaded to the bone with firearms strutted down the streets of Vale, towards a place hidden from most of society. They marched down dirt roads, through forests, and across a great lake, towards a large complex that lay on the shoreline. Once they landed on the sandy beach of the waterbed, they loaded up and ran straight for the complex. Their black coats weaved guns ablaze. A multitude threw burning torches into the mansion in front of them, the others opening fire at the wreckage of this building. The manor would have seemed like a fierce red eye in a black night from a hawk's eye view. All that could be heard that night was the shouting of men; orders sent and orders taken, the crackling of wood and stone and fire and metal, and the single wail of despair that came from the manor; a cry that sounded both of a human and a demon… And then the night was silent once more, the men gone and left. All left to see and hear was the crackling of a burning complex and the blaze that withered out through the darkness…
10 years later…
All that was left was a pile of withered wreckage. Ash and dust and cinders had coated the black chart and wood that once been the foundation of a beautiful manor. Nothing was left. The wind blew dully on the wreckage, few rodents skirmishing for food. Winter was upon them, covering the debris with snow and frost and ice.
Something started moving in the wood and ash and snow alike. A figure started to emerge, clad in black and red and burns. His black coat torn and charred, his arms scraped and covered with burns. A broken, blue-designed masquerade mask hung from his face, tilted and slinging from a strap and cracked. He looked around warily, as if he was trying to find what could not be seen by the naked eye. His purple eyes were filled with sorrow, but curiosity and fear, not recognizing the place that he once, in a long time, called his home. Nothing was the same, not the trees, not the buildings, not the animals. His silver hair glowed as the snow dabbed and frosted over. He realized gravely that something was wrong. He should have killed by the fire and the wreck that fell over him, but he wasn't. And then he was frozen in place, fear and anger welling up inside him. He realized that his brother was not here with him. His brother, his only brother, must have died in the fire. He looked for his body, but found nothing. It despaired him so, but at least he didn't have to see the decayed corpse of his only sibling.
"….. I will destroy the White Fang for this…" He promised to himself aloud. "This is the last time I will allow them to harm anyone; human and faunus alike….. And one day, this will all end… And I had better be there when it does…."
