A/N: Okay, I don't know what this is honestly. I didn't do any research and I am all clueless about this but this is just sitting on my folder for like a year now and I never got the chance to upload it since I started my first year of college last year. Anyway, here ya go. Forgive my writing, by the way, I was never the best in English.

Disclaimer: I obviously don't own HTTYD or RoTG.

Darkness. That was the first thing that I remembered. I was trapped in a mere oblivion with no escape. It was cold. I felt no breeze upon my face. There was only coldness that I have never experienced before in my entire life. I can feel the water enveloping my whole body and I am wondering why I am not drowning. I can't hear anything. There is only the faintest sound of muffled noises and somehow, I can tell that there are many people speaking.

I am still for that moment. I am waiting for the fear to strike my very core. I should feel scared or terrified. Yet, the feeling never came. The thing that surprises me is that I didn't feel any kind of emotion. I am neither happy nor sad. I am here, unfeeling.

The muffled noises were becoming a little louder. I suddenly slipped back to the realm of reality and gain consciousness. I slowly opened my eyes and I finally noticed that I was wearing an oxygen mask. As I slowly became aware of my environment, I also took notice that I am kept in a cylindrical water vessel that started from the floor to the ceiling. As if its mere purpose was to isolate me from the outside. I looked beyond the clear glass and I can see the slightest reflection of icy blue eyes that differs from my original brown eyes. What happened?

Outside the glass, people in lab coats were talking to each other. They stood beside different kinds of machines while the others are holding a chemical that are waiting to be tried. They were in their own world. The science was their life itself and it felt like nothing else existed. Like I didn't exist. One of the workers suddenly turned in my direction and became aware of my awakening. He informed the others until the muffled noises became louder and louder. They are now chattering happily as they turned their attention towards me.

I just looked at them with a blank stare and for that moment, everyone was silent. I saw one of them move and grasp a microphone. I watched as he stood in front of everyone.

A voice boomed through the room that even penetrated the thick glass and the water.

"Project IDENTITY is a success. Codename: 'FROST' is now ready to function."

And with that, the water inside slowly began to drain until my feet finally touched the ground. The thick glass shifted open and the people in the lab coats approached me in an organized manner.

They took the oxygen mask off my face and began to check for my pulse. They checked my vital organs and injected some chemicals. Ah, I'm a human experiment. One of them stood in front of me and I can tell by the way he stands out that he was the one leading this specific experiment.

"What's your name, boy?"

I just looked at him with a null expression. I studied the man as I took notice of his prosthetic hand and leg. How unusual. I looked down for a moment, still with no expression adorning my features, and looked at my reflection on the polished floor. In place of the brown hue of my hair was white that can be likened to the color of freshly fallen snow and the icy blue eyes that were staring at me awhile ago was my own.

My head began to ache as confusion hit me.

I remember what I looked like, but, I can't remember anything. Anything at all. I can't describe what is missing. I searched for memories that were gone. I should be breaking down, but, I can't find it in myself to show any emotion. Instead, my gaze felt empty as I dully stared back at the old man. I opened my mouth and absentmindedly, the words that only came out were, "I don't know."

I don't know.

"Well, no matter, boy. From now on, you go by the codename Frost."

Frost. That's who I am now. "Am I allowed to ask a question about my past?"

"Polite kid. If you suddenly rambled out questions about your past, we would have killed you off just like that. Anyway, to answer that question: no, you cannot. The name's Gobber, by the way." Oh, so that's his name. Gobber eyed me curiously as he circled around me then he threw something at me and I caught it in time.

I stared at the sophisticated clothing. I was holding a now slightly crumpled black suit and a tie. I stared at it in question until Gobber's prosthetic hook latched itself onto my wrist and forced me to follow him.

There were so many questions that swirled in my mind and I mostly kept them to myself. I discovered that my hearing has been enhanced since I can hear anything clearly and my eyesight was perfect. The feeling was dominative and I felt powerful. I felt inhuman.

I followed Gobber as he was making his way out of the laboratory until I laid eyes on a stick that was leaning on the farthest corner of the room. I suddenly halted which brought a surprise to Gobber. I tore myself away from his grasp and studied the object. As I neared it, I realized that it was, in actuality, a staff.

I observed that the staff was crooked at one end. I can't explain it, but, somehow, it clicked something in my mind. For the first time since my awakening, I felt comfort. It was almost like a safety blanket.

I took hold of it and weighed it in my hands and it felt perfect. And for some quite odd reason, it suddenly brought a slight smile to my face. The sudden twitch of my lips seemed foreign but I didn't mind it. It was almost like the staff was now the extension of me. It represented my emotions— my soul.

"Hey, kid! What are you doing? Put the staff down and let's hurry along."

"No." I smirked as I twirled it around and swung it back and forth. I looked at Gobber who stared at me, dumbfounded, probably since it was the first time I showed an expression. I then stomped the staff in front of him. "I think I like it."

Gobber sighed heavily as he rubbed his forehead with his one good hand. "Alright, just let's go. Quick." He began walking towards the door again and this time we finally exited the room.

Outside the room was a plain white hallway that led directly to an elevator. Once we're inside, Gobber immediately looked at me and began to hand me some files. I didn't know what to do with it.

"Alright, kid. You better listen. Your codename is Frost and you are the successful outcome of the project IDENTITY. You are here for one purpose and one alone: to protect the Don. You'll become his right-hand and whatnot. You probably get the gist of it." I was about to open the file when Gobber grabbed my hand. "Woah! Woah! Not yet! Later, after you finished changing then you can open that."

"What do you mean by Don?"

"Oh, right. Forgot that you are new to this business." Business? "The Don is a title given in the Mafia. The Don is the one who rules a specific Mafia group or in other words, the crime boss. Oh, here we are." The elevator door opened and a sudden rush of fresh air caressed my face. Finally, the surface. We were at the garden and I can barely make out where we came from.

I let the information sink in. It all fits perfectly. I was built to kill. I was a part of a very dangerous business and I will probably get killed. There was an odd feeling that rushed through me and I felt a sudden excitement. And maybe I was built to feel this—the love for thrill.

I observed as we went inside the mansion that its walls were built from bricks and the torches lit the hallways. Different types of swords were decorated on the walls. If I were to describe it, it looks so... "Medieval."

Gobber heard me and had a smug look on his face. "We prefer the term traditional." He stopped walking and gestured the door right in front of us. "Well, here's a room. You better change then, we can discuss the file properly. Let me hold that for you for a moment."

I handed the file and the staff to him. As soon as I let go of the staff, my muscles got a little tense and I can almost feel the comfort leave my body. I shrugged it off and pushed the door open.

I quickly changed into the surprisingly comfortable suit and wore the nicely polished black leather shoes. I went out of the room and we resumed walking. I was relieved when Gobber handed me back the staff and the files. I passed many people along the way most of them at least had a bit of fur on their clothes. "Fur?"

"Oh, right. A brief history: all of us are Vikings pure and through, well, almost all of us. That is why we dress like this and have this traditional mansion." Gobber gestured over the files and I immediately complied. I opened it and he continued, "Well, welcome to the Hooligan Mafia." A look. "Don't ask."

I read the basic information that was written on the file. One of the most known mafia groups. This mafia consists of fighters specializing in short-range and melee combat. I continued reading on. "Blacksmiths?"

"Well, not really, but, technically. We don't just specialize in making sharp weapons; we are also good at making all types of weapons. We are the center of all weapon trading that happens within the mafia, and the best weapon maker there is, if I may add." I can hear his voice beaming with pride as he talked about their work.

I didn't even remember most of the walk but by the abrupt halt of Gobber, we probably were at our destination giventhe fact that there were two huge doors with a beautifully carved gold dragon handles at each door. Gobber let out a huge sigh and finally pushed the doors open. "We're here."

Almost every head turned our way as soon as the door was opened. Everyone's eyes were calculating as they saw the unfamiliar face. Everyone was lined up in groups across the Great Hall. Each group had one person in front of them, which I probably guessed as the leader of each division.

"Who is he, Gobber?" I quickly turned my head to the first one who spoke up. I noticed that it was a girl whose thick blonde hair was braided neatly. Her eyes suited her beautiful face in a way that made her look tough despite of her slender figure. Though I said slender, years of experience and power are evident in her almost unnoticeable muscles.

"Why don't you take a guess, Astrid?"

The Astrid girl looked thoughtful for a moment and judging by the way her eyes widened for a fraction of a second, it all clicked. She furrowed her eyebrows in concentration and she looked at me in the eye and to be quite honest, I almost felt intimidated. Almost. "Well, pleasure to actually meet you, Mr. Frost. Astrid Hofferson, sir, head of the Sharp Class." She held out her hand and I shook it. Soon enough, two more approached me.

"Woah! I can't believe it. This is so exciting. My name is Fishlegs Ingerman, sir. I am the head of the Boulder Class." A rather big—but he quickly added his mother tells him he's just husky—blonde haired guy shook my hand excitedly. He was about to say more until he was pushed away from me. "Oh, you're really here! I have so many questions that I—"

"Blah blah blah. Let the expert do the talking. Snotlout Jorgenson, sir, head of the Stoker Class, which in my opinion is the best division here. They are just below me, sir. My services are what you are looking for." He held a smug look on his face and from the corner of my eye, I saw Astrid roll her eyes. This guy was pretty amusing, in the way he explained comically how much greater his group was under his supervision.

To be honest, this guy does not look threatening at all. He looks like the kind of guy who is all speech but does not deliver. Still, there must be a reason why he is where he is now. "Oh, right. By the way, Astrid, Tuff and Ruff are gone again."

Astrid sighed exasperatedly. "Again? Ugh, Snotlout what did I tell you?"

"Hey, it's not my fault they are sneaky little brats!"

"One thing! I asked you to do just this one thing!" She rubbed her temples and glared at Snotlout. She then turned to Gobber, "I'll be right back. Gobber, please watch this idiot here before he messes up something again."

"You got it, Astrid." He mock-saluted her with his prosthetic hook and tugged sharply at the back collar of Snotlout's suit. "You're staying right here, laddie."

"As much as I want to see Snotlout be treated like the child he is, he really should be going somewhere." I looked at Fishlegs and raised my eyebrows, silently questioning what he meant by that. He turned his gaze to Gobber, "uh, Gobber?"

Gobber gestured to the big, carved, stone chair placed graciously at the end of the hall. It had intricate dragon designs like the door handles except the chair was pure stone, no gold or any other accessories to soften its look. The carvings are still recognizable, but the stone itself is starting to lose its form since cracks are starting to appear on it. "You see that, lad? It's time to resume our grand tour." He then fixed his eye on me, but I refuse to meet his gaze since my attention is still on the glorious chair, sitting idly atop the brick staircase by the end of the hall.

Gobber let go of Snotlout and shooed him away, his group following behind him. He put his hand on my shoulder and firmly shook it once. He pointed his hook at the chair.

"This is why you are here."

A/N: Okay, so that is it for now. Hope you enjoy. So, until then! (if you want to ask me or something, you can find me in tumblr, the-dragon-mastah, so yaaaaaah)