"A boy?"

"What's your name?"

"I'll call you Allen. Is that alright?"

It had been more than the name he had been given when he had first woken up, without a memory of anything that had happened before he saw the strange, enclosed space of four grey walls, a single window, and a door that looked as much as an escape as a crack in a wall. Before he had just been called after the name of his hair, or that's what he hoped to believe. The more likely case was that he was called Red because of his strange, deformed left arm, crimson like blood. He had been more than happy to trade the colored label for a real name.

So the boy known as Red became Allen. He lived under the care of a man named Mana from that moment from which he was given the name onward. For once, he had been happy.

"Don't stop…"

"Please, keep walking. Never stop…"

"I'm… sorry… Allen."

But all that happiness disappeared as his foster-father's life slipped from him in between his fingers. It had been his fault. He had been careless, and caused the death of the one he cared about most.

"MANA!"

He called the name like his life depended on it. The boy named Allen cried desperately to see his foster-father again, and he would do anything just to see him again. The man he had grown to love so much, who had become so important to him… the strange, nightmarish man that had visited him promised he could see him again. Allen took him up on the offer, not aware of the consequences that it would bring. The man had brought him to a room with a man inside, one who looked like Mana, but… it couldn't be Mana, could it?

"M-Mana…?"

The man who sat before him snapped his head up at the mention of the name. Allen's face dripped with salty tears as he stared at the man who was supposedly 'Mana.' The man's own eyes glistened with tears as he mumbled the boy's name.

"Allen…"

Young Allen rushed to hug the sitting figure, filled with joy. His father wasn't dead. He hadn't killed him! Allen could still be with him. He wasn't alone anymore.

He failed to notice the sharp blade 'Mana' clutched in his left hand.

"I curse you, Allen!"

Pain flared on the left side of his face, where the blade had slashed a fresh wound running from his forehead to just above his chin. Allen fell back in shock, failing to fully comprehend the actions his father had taken. The man still had the knife at the ready for another strike, but when Allen looked into his eyes, he saw that he was crying. He didn't want to do this to the boy.

Allen's left arm throbbed, and Allen winced. That action caused his tears to start flowing, and his brain worked once more. He screamed in terror and backed away from his father. The man approached Allen one step at a time, gaining on the boy as he crawled back towards the wall at a slower pace.

"I curse you!"

'Mana' raised his arm high in the air to bring it once more against the boy's flesh, aiming for his chest. Allen screamed both in pain and fear as his arm felt like it was exploding from its confines as his arm into something grotesque, and closed his eyes, not willing to bear witness to something he assumed was horrible. He felt as the once unmovable arm stretched out and collide with something heavy, knocking it to the ground. There was a grunt of pain as whatever he hit was knocked back with more force than he thought possible. Allen dared to open his eyes and choked back a sob when he saw his father's form slumped against the far wall, like a broken doll. The young boy crawled hesitantly towards the figure, his eyes dripping with tears, washing away the blood from the left eye.

"Please, kill me."

His left arm obliged to the request. Allen was forced to watch as he killed his father once again, this time directly. He screamed as his arm, even more deformed than it was before, tore through his father. His blood, sticky and red, splattered against his face as his father fell to the ground with a thump. Allen cried and screamed.

And everything went red.

Allen's screams were cut short as an alarm blared, the red light flashing in time with his heart beat, as fast as it was. He looked around in confusion and his eyes rested on the door. Maybe if he stared at it long enough, it would open, and he could escape this nightmare.

It opened, but he didn't wake up.

A man with long hair, the color being red, he knew, because it would disappear every time the red light came back on, stood in the opening, blocking Allen's only chance of getting out. The man's face was twisted into a scowl.

"So this is where you are, brat."

This was how Allen Walker, the little boy who held no real name until he met his now deceased father, was taken away from the place he had grown up in, the only place he had really known his whole life, by the strange man with red hair. The man, named Cross, had infiltrated the facility known as the Ark with a number of other people to liberate the people trapped within its walls. Allen was one of only a few who were successfully led through the Ark to the outside, where he was finally free. He didn't enjoy it, not like he should have. He buried his face in Cross' coat, his left eye closed as the blood from his wound dried and crusted around it, his other flowing with tears. He didn't have time to take in the fact that he was free; he was too consumed with thoughts of Mana.

Before he knew it, he was lying in a bed, staring blankly at the ceiling of his new room. It would take days before he finally responded to anything outside of his mind. He needed the time to deal with his grief.

"My name's Allen Walker. It's nice to meet you."

He said the words like a memorized script, but of course, everything he said and did was an act. As Cross put it, it was a mask of Mana, but Allen didn't think of it like that. He thought of it as how Mana would have liked him to act, the opposite of what he had been before. The rude, demanding young child was replaced with a much more polite young man as he grew up. His personality changed as much as his appearance. His once reddish-brown hair bled to white after the incident with his father, a result of shock, and the wound he had received became a red scar. A few days after he had come out of his state of grief, he had cut an upside-down star on his forehead to connect with the jagged scar he had received. Of course, he had been scolded for it from Cross, but the scar had looked too strange without it. The upside-down pentacle made it look complete.

His arm had remained paralyzed weeks after his escape from the Ark, then, slowly, he became able to move it a little more each time until it acted just like his other arm. The cause of its numbness, he had been told, was because the drug called "Dark Matter" the Earl had been introducing into his system had nullified it as it was a substance called "Innocence," a kind of "cure" for the Dark Matter. He learned this from the people who had taken him from the Ark. They were part of a group called the "Black Order" that was fighting against the Earl and his band of soldiers called Akuma, and they had liberated tens of thousands of people from the facility run by the mad man. The refugees consisted of people who wanted to live normal lives under the protection of the Black Order, and those who actually worked for the Order, consisting of Scientists, Finders, and "Exorcists." The refugees were separated into those who wanted to help, and those who wanted protection. It seemed Allen had no choice of what he wanted because of the Innocence in his arm, and he was made an Exorcist, a soldier to fight for the Black Order.

Allen didn't really mind. He thought that if he had become anything else, he would have died of suicide because of his grief. Working distracted him, and he was given a purpose. He would fight against the Earl because of Mana, who had been well on his way to becoming an Akuma. Allen wasn't so far off himself. Apparently his Innocence had prolonged the effects of the Dark Matter, but if any more had been introduced into his system, he would most likely be working under the Earl. The thought made him shiver every time it crossed his mind.

"My name's Komui Lee. These here are your fellow Exorcists, who you will be working along with for the time being. Unfortunately, most of them are off on missions right now, but you'll meet them later on."

Komui Lee, the Supervisor for the Science Department, seemed like a kind person, maybe a little crazy. He was one of the first people he met after three years of (brutal) training with Cross. As Allen's eyes drifted across the line of two people the Supervisor had gathered for him to meet.

"Hi, I'm Lenalee Lee, and this is Kanda. It's nice to meet you, Allen."

The female exorcist smiled cheerfully at her new co-worker. She looked to be someone who put a high value on her friends and family, but, who knew. Maybe she had a dark side. The long-haired exorcist to her left scowled at the white-haired boy. If it wasn't for the fact that Allen hadn't already met him, in a most pleasant way of one trying to cut up the other with his katana, he would have thought the man was a girl at first glance.

"You won't last a month, Beansprout."

"My name is Allen."

Allen faked a smile as Kanda walked away, left alone with Lenalee and Komui. She turned to him and apologized for the exorcist's behavior towards him, but Allen merely laughed it off. Kanda would just have to witness how well he could perform out in the field. Of course he would last more than a month, with all of the training he had with Cross. He had a reason to fight, and that reason was going to keep him alive until the bitter end. He promised himself that. He promised Mana.