Author Note: First I'd like to thank everyone for giving the fic a chance :D I'll try and keep up with expectations, though I already have a path set with the fic I won't dismiss advice or criticism.
Again, I don't own RWBY.
Three months were dedicated to ingraining as much hand to hand and weaponry combat as possible. A pleasant surprise for Sevas however, was the fact that the boy seemed to not only understand everything shown to him by a single glance, but he would perfect it to a degree even he hadn't expected, the boy had literally been devouring the information.
The nameless boy had taken to practicing in the garden every day for as long as his body could handle.
"Pack up, we're leaving," Sevas ordered the boy, disrupting the daily ritual.
The boy however didn't answer, only did as told.
Sevas watched the boy pack, the nameless child had done well over the months, and he had taken to his training like fish to water. He wondered sometimes if it was because of his young age, or simply Sevas' restriction on anything else that wasn't related to his training. After all, if you leave someone with only one path, they are bound to only think about that path.
Sevas had plans of leaving Mistral ever since the boy had created a bond with Pyrrha, it was a fragile bond, and they were only five years old. But the elder assassin made it a point to crush anything so useless to smithereens.
Just like that, Sevas had decided to take the boy and move to a village far from the kingdoms, a particular one called 'Kuroyuri'.
Kuroyuri, they arrived not too long after, simply a week, give or take a day. Sevas immediately started training the boy to the bone, the nameless child had to be strong for what Sevas had planned for him.
Time passed without notice, day after day the boy trained, not much of the world was known to him.
Two more months were full contact combat training, both bare handed and armed. The boy had taken quite a few scars from the 'love taps' as his master called it, but he improved with each session. Though he never landed a single hit on the older assassin, the man simply eclipsed him in both skill and physique, he was at his mercy.
Then five months were spent to generally everything. Sparring sessions were included right after being taught a new stance or the handling of a new weapon. Stealth skills were taught not long after.
They boy hadn't left the house even once over their entire stay, purely focusing on training, sleep and food. He never had the chance to meet others of his age, or even just see what the village was like.
The boy became six years old, far more skilled than he had been a year ago. Sevas had finally decided that it was time; he would unlock the boy's aura and move on to the 'next stage' as he kept telling the boy over the time they spent together.
"Today I'll be unlocking your aura, while normally I'd be against unlocking someone's aura so early in training, we have to make an exception for you so we can move on to the next stage," the silver haired man explained with a completely indifferent expression. "Come here."
The still unnamed boy moved immediately, the time spent with Sevas had taught him to listen; otherwise there was always some form of consequence. There was always some sort of consequence to disobeying his master, and truth be told, he had come to see the jaded, strict, uncaring older man as some sort of a twisted father figure.
The man taught him, fed him, clothed him, healed his wounds even when most of them were caused by him… and he simply didn't have anyone else.
When life gives you lemons…
The assassin placed a hand on the boy's shoulders and spoke, "For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this we become the shadows, untamed, unbowed, unchained, ever-present and ethereal. Infinite in distance and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by your own will, devour the infinity."
And so, Sevas reached inside of the boy, to find and draw out his aura.
Yet he just couldn't seem to find any trace of it, he dug even deeper with desperation, he would not have another failure, especially not because of something as silly as him not being able to find the kid's soul. Every human being without exception had a soul.
He dug deeper.
Deeper…
Deeper…
He went in so deep, his consciousness had completely sunk into the abyss, and that was where he would find it.
Something that should have stayed buried…
The master's eyes snapped open, and a world of darkness welcomed him. That was the only way Sevas could describe the place, it was pure black, and the sky had not a single star or cloud. The ground however was peculiar, he seemed to be walking on water, yet the water looked pitch black because of the lack of light, its depths completely unknown to him.
"What the hell?" he whispered under his breath. It was rare, if not unheard of for those who had no training in aura to have built an inner world. Only experts at the S-class and above had that kind of mental fortitude, one that came with comprehension and experience. Yet the kid had somehow built an inner world of his own?
"Though it is kind of bland, not much of a world," he commented to no one around. Though he wasn't so sure about that, ever since he had stepped into the inner world, he had a nagging feeling that he was being watched by something.
But he pressed onward; a soul would generally be in the core of an inner world. Though the inner world did explain his inability to find the kid's soul easily, it was well protected. All he needed to do was touch it, to make the kid aware of its existence, which would be all he would need to do.
A flash of red and green rushed under the water.
Yet there was no disturbance in the water itself, as if the movement under it was but an illusion.
Sevas however grew increasingly tense, he still felt watched, followed… He felt like prey, and that was unacceptable.
"COME OUT YOU FUCKING COWARD!" he bellowed as he challenged the mysterious predator in a fit of rage.
In hindsight, he would realize that this would be the one mistake that'd follow him to his nightmares for the rest of his life.
As if responding to the challenge, the calm sea of black behind Sevas suddenly exploded as something emerged from it, something very large, and very fast.
"_▄▄▄████" a bestial roar pierced the sky as the sound seemed to reverberate right through the old assassin's very soul. It was incomparable to the roar of a lion, gorilla, tiger or even the most dangerous of Grimm. Without even turning around Sevas knew, he just knew, that he had awoken a thing of nightmares.
A singular thought passed, Fuck all kinds of duck.
The silver haired assassin turned around to face the would-be-predator, only for his heart to jump to his throat at the sight that stood in front of him. His confidence fell in shambles as his hands started to tremble slightly in fear, his pupils dilated erratically as he was nearly blinded by the light.
Fear, he had felt fear, a man who many would describe as the incarnation of terror itself. Many would whisper his name in fear of somehow calling his attention upon them, but what stood before him, it was a monster.
There stood the beast in all his glory, the Leviathan, the Devourer of all. At first glance it seemed very much like a snake, except for the fact that its length spanned far further than Sevas' eyes could even see, it had very large and sharp fangs, fit for a predator. However the most terrifying thing about it was its eyes, four eyes, two on each side, two large red ones and two smaller green ones right above them, all of them emanating an abundance of blinding light, much like the sun. Yet they were completely empty, like a great pit of darkness, a pit of hunger.
The great Leviathan simply stared at the puny human beneath it, mocking it, daring it to do something, anything at all. But it would not come to be, because a fool that would knowingly challenge a beast like that, had not been born yet, and such a birth would simply never come to be.
So instead of waiting for the stock still assassin to do something the Leviathan decided to take action.
"_▄▄▄████" it roared once more, just as deadly as the first. Sevas didn't even notice the great beast move before he was eaten, though eaten would be an overstatement, the beast had practically inhaled Sevas.
"NO!" Sevas exclaimed as he awoke right back in the garden, in front of the boy he had been training for almost a year now. Only a singular thought passing through his mind, what just happened?
How had he gotten back? The only way for him to comeback would have been to unlock the kid's aura by coming into contact with his soul, or voluntarily leaving, neither of which he had done. The question hung heavy in his mind.
C-could that have been his soul? He questioned with a pang of fear, yet there was also a hint of joy hidden within all of that terror.
While his explanation was rather disturbing, it was the only thing that made sense; beasts did not live within souls. It only made sense that said beast was the actual manifestation of the kid's soul living within the boy's inner world, yet that thought alone caused a shiver to go down the experienced assassin's mind.
But for now he would put it out of his mind and focus on training the kid, when the time came, he would know for sure, the kid would not disappoint him. He could expect great things from the boy.
After a short while the assassin had expected an overwhelming release of aura, after what he had to go through, to prove that the process did indeed work. But what the older assassin saw was…peculiar. The boy's aura was black at a first glance, nothing too weird about that, the color of ones aura generally coincided with their life experience and their very nature.
However when Sevas focused on the outlines of the boy's silhouette, he didn't seea black light, but rather saw the very disconcerting lack of light. The slightly blurred edge around his aura reminded him of black holes that simply devoured everything with their unrelenting gravity.
The boy didn't emit a black aura, but it looked like it was black, because there was no light there, as if it was being devoured by his aura.
The boy on the other hand had felt a rush of energy, a feeling of elation, of weightlessness at the release of his aura. He had also felt something else, something deeper within his very being, but it was very elusive, like trying to put light on a shadow in hopes of trying to further investigate it. It was pointless to think about.
The boy had also noticed the confused expression his master had been sporting for about an entire minute. Something he had never seen the old assassin do before, the man always seemed to have everything figured out, nothing seemed to be able to keep his interest for longer than a second. Never had he seen the silver haired man in such a thoughtful expression.
"Master?" he voiced out his concern in a single word.
The voice of the boy immediately snapped him out of his thoughts, "Hmm? Right, let us go outside for a bit, time to experiment."
The boy nodded once as always and followed his master obediently. They came out to a clearing that the boy was all too familiar with, the garden where they would 'spar' every day. He used the term loosely because his master beating the crap out of him could hardly be called that.
While the greenery and sunlight was very relaxing, the mood was always ruined by the pain that followed his presence in the rather large garden.
The boy saw the older assassin enter his battle stance, one of many, and took it as a sign to prepare for battle.
Silence…it reigned supreme for a moment. A moment that was ruined with a slight breeze, a rather comfortable one, it was gentle and warm.
But it was not a moment the boy could lose himself in, because they had both moved at the first disturbance. The elder assassin made sure to hold back, as always. He did not need a broken experiment, he needed the boy alive for years to come, or at least he would hope the boy stayed alive.
Fists flew and all of them were simply slapped away by the older assassin. While the boy was indeed a genius when it came to fighting, he still lacked the ability his body would give him when he became older, at the tender age of six, he could barely keep up with the older assassin. Something the boy knew all too well, which was why, he always fought with a plan.
The boy knew not to play fair with the silver haired man.
The little one went for a high kick as he bent his body the opposite way and downwards, which to anyone else would seem like a rookie mistake, but flawless skill would simply not take the X-class assassin down.
The kick was blocked but the mission was accomplished, the boy turned on the ball of his other foot and swiped his hand, a present he picked up as he was going down, given to his master. A handful of dirt, aimed to blind, to give him a chance.
But the experienced assassin simply knew too well, he closed his eyes and effortlessly tripped the kid to the ground and laid his foot on the exposed neck. Game over.
"Nice thinking, but not well enough," the older one started. "Anyway let me see now."
The yellow eyed man took a knife and threw it at the boy's shoulder, expecting instinctive self-preservation to activate his aura…
The universe loved to fuck with his expectations.
"SHIT!" the boy cried out, a colorful vocabulary learned from the best of examples. What could one expect from a killer for hire? Definitely not proper parenthood, that's for sure.
In the pain induced anger, the boy grabbed onto Sevas' leg, snapping him out of his pondering as to why the boy's aura didn't protect him. Sevas felt his aura depleting, in fact, he felt like he was dying.
Something was trying to devour the core of his strength, his aura, his very soul. Any further and he might have died, fortunately for him, he found the strength to kick the boy away from himself before collapsing on a knee and gasping for breath.
"What?" he asked out loud at the twisted turn of events, as he looked up toward the boy. The injury had healed, and the bloody knife had dropped on the floor. The last kick seemed to have knocked him out.
He already had a theory, but it needed to be tested. Everything always needed to be tested, but this particular test would have to wait for another year, he had to get the boy prepared mentally so he wouldn't break completely.
He wrote the boy a note saying that he was allowed to go out for the day, after all he had done very well and Sevas was rather satisfied with what he found out.
The elder assassin had a contract to pick up from the village elder, something along the lines of a protection contract because of Grimm activity. It would be the easiest mission he would most likely do, but he would have to see if he accepted it or not.
The nameless boy with mismatched eyes woke not long after; it was still morning, the sun still up and glowing brightly. It took only two seconds for the boy to notice the note stuck on his chest, while slightly confused at the new way of communication his master decided to adopt, he took the note and read it anyway.
Not even a moment later, the brightest smile had been adorned on the boy's face. Obviously very happy at being allowed to leave the stuffy house for once, to explore and meet people, that would be a nice change of pace for the boy.
The nameless child wasted not a moment as he left, still in his training clothes, completely in black. But fortunately remembered to lock the door behind him, because if he had forgotten, he was sure Sevas would have punished him by making him drink some sort of non-lethal but very painful poison again.
The kid walked aimlessly, yet happily with a slight grin on his face. Though he hadn't seen anyone his age for a while, he wondered if it could be possible that the village was made entirely of adults.
That was not a situation he would particularly like, because his entire life, he hadn't met a single kind adult. The first had tried to sell him to slavery, the elder assassin while basically a father figure was still abusive, and the elder brother of the bully had basically tried to kill him.
Pondering his past encounters with adults, the nameless kid saw a boy around his age, most likely six years old wearing a completely green outfit. Although the attribute that stood out the most would be that pink lock of hair on his head.
The boy had been staring at something in an alleyway, wide eyed and with a slight tinge of fear.
Interested the nameless child decided to take a look at what was so interesting, never would he have guessed that the saying, 'history repeats itself' would ever apply to him in his life.
"Where'd you get that bread? I didn't see you pay for it thief!" a boy's voice could be heard within the laughter.
The scene in front of him awoke memories of the once red haired girl in Mistral. He saw three boys, bullying a single girl, though unlike the red haired girl, this one had short orange hair with green eyes, and looked homeless.
On closer examination, the nameless kid saw the moldy bread she had been grasping, the children's cruelty being focused on her inability feed herself properly. It was cruel, far crueler than the nameless child could have expected from others his age.
Was that why the boy in green next to him hadn't stepped in? Was he afraid? Or did he simply not care? He didn't know…
What was he supposed to do then? Would he defy his master once again, protect someone in order to defy the cruel reality the world seemed to have been dead set on enforcing? Or would he walk away, let her deal with her problems.
He shook his head of all doubt the doubt that haunted him, he knew he could fight and he knew he could win. He had trained for a year with the best, it was the only thing he had done, what would he be reduced to if he left one girl out to fend for herself?
With his mind made up he dashed straight at them, it wasn't like last time, this time he was trained, he knew what he was doing, and he was confident.
"Leave her alone!" he shouted as he slammed a kick on one of the bully's shoulder, using the shoulder as a foothold he spun and slammed his other foot into another kid's head, easily knocking him out.
The fight didn't last more than two seconds, if it could even be called that. He had the advantage of surprise, and he had injured one, while knocking another out.
"Mom, help me!" One of them shouted as he ran away, the injured one quickly followed suit.
For some reason the boy in green had already tried to run away before the fight had even started, fear had taken him over as he turned around and ran into an older man, who also wore a darker shade of green.
The older man looked with disappointment at the young child who fell in front of him.
"Father?" the boy in green asked.
The man simply looked at the area the fight had taken place, his eyes locked on to the nameless boy and the girl.
The girl ran in fear of something, maybe she wasn't used to older people either, or maybe she just had bad experiences with them in general. He wouldn't be surprised, it took some unpleasant ways such as theft or looking through trash to survive certain days when one is homeless, he understood that.
But the nameless child didn't run, he simply wouldn't run.
His bang covered his red eye as always, so the older man only looked into his singular green eye, and saw the courage the boy had. The man was very well aware of his stern look; it made many children wary of him, but this one had refused to be taken by fear.
The elder man looked down toward the boy in green again and asked with disappointment quite evident, "Do you wish to run like the rest of them?"
The boy's head fell in shame, shame at not doing the right thing, at not being able to stay true to himself and being engulfed with fear. But the nameless child didn't think badly of the boy for it, the boy wasn't like him, the nameless child lived with death hand to hand, at the edge of a blade. His only hesitation came from what his master had taught him, fear, after his training, was an emotion foreign to the boy.
The man spoke again as he knelt down in front of the green clothed boy, but this time his eyes reflected affection, and spoke, "Sometimes the worst action to take, is taking no action at all. Go home; I need to speak with the mayor."
The boy left not long after, but not before giving a final glance at the nameless child. The boy with the mismatched eyes noticed the glance, and responded with a smile and a wave of the hand to the pink eyed boy, a color; he noticed that matched his lock of hair.
The child smiled before he left, leaving the nameless child alone.
"Thanks," a timid voice called out from behind the nameless boy.
"Hmm?" he hummed as he turned around, only to see the short orange haired girl looking at him, a slight forced smile adorned her face.
The nameless child simply gave her an exaggerated mock bow which made her giggle slightly. After giving her thanks she waved the boy goodbye and left.
The boy felt satisfied, in his eyes, he had just made two new friends, two whole new friends, one of them had even spoken to him! No one his age had spoken to him since Pyrrha, he only wished he could have learned his new friend's name.
In his elation however, he never noticed the presence behind him.
Not until an explosive force slammed into his right shoulder, sending him careening into the wall on his left. The impact to his head left him dazed for a while, the world looked blurry and his head hurt beyond belief.
"You never learn…" but his hearing was good enough to understand something, he was being watched, his master had been following him. The voice was full of disappointment as he spoke, "Well, I'm a man of my word, and fortunately, I didn't accept the contract yet."
The words made no sense to the boy, but it didn't matter, because not long after, he lost his consciousness to the deep abyss…
"–ke up!" a voice called out. "Wake up!"
Without a moments delay the nameless child's eyes snapped open in attention, no hesitation between waking and flipping into a ready stance. The boy had learned over the time spent with the master assassin, because learning was a necessity.
"What?" he asked after giving momentary attention to his surroundings, there were no threats in sight. It was night time, but the boy had been standing at the edge of a forest on a cliff.
"Good morning or night… well anyway, it is a good thing you woke up," Sevas started. "I wouldn't want you to miss out on me delivering on my promise."
The nameless boy understood, he had defied his master, consequences would follow. But he didn't understand why they were situated so far away from the village. After all what would be the difference in being punished outside or inside their living space.
"I'm sure you're confused as to why we're here, let me explain," the elder assassin spoke with mirth. "You see, today I had received a protection contract, and while I don't really take those much, I was planning on taking this one. The village elder spoke about a horde of Grimm coming toward the village; they needed an S-class fighter at least, so imagine the elder's surprise when he found an X-class assassin in his village.
"The old man was so happy he wouldn't have to cause panic within the village, and would instead get rid of the Grimm problem by hiring me," Sevas spoke in a convoluted manner, not getting straight to the point. The kid understood that his master wanted him to figure it out.
This was a punishment, but the nameless child couldn't understand how an extermination contract would in any way be considered a punishment for him, and that's when he caught it.
I was planning on taking this one; the assassin in training repeated the words of his master to himself.
Sevas was planning on letting the village be overrun by the Grimm; the elder assassin was planning on letting an entire village die to teach the boy the consequences of defiance.
"No! Please, it was my fault, don't let them die," the boy pleaded with the older assassin. "I only helped one little girl, please don't punish them for my sins."
The boy hadn't noticed, yet slowly but surely, his mind had re-arranged actions and meanings. He truly believed that helping the bullied girl had been a sin, a sin to be repaid in blood according to his master.
Now the boy stood, tears held back in his eyes, only waiting for his master's judgment. The boy was weak, he alone couldn't help anyone. Even if he wanted to, what guarantee would there be that his master didn't kill the next innocent citizen for it?
But his hopes were crushed when he heard his master… laughing.
Sevas knelt in front of the boy, standing at eye level to get his point across.
"Being weak is a sin. Being weak prevents you from deciding your own fate. Being weak allows you to be trampled upon," Sevas spoke with a smirk. "Doing what one likes is the right of the powerful!"
It's my fault, the boy thought as he finally broke. Sevas had been right, his master had always been right. If the boy had been powerful, he wouldn't have needed the elder assassin's help to save the village. If the boy had been powerful enough, Sevas wouldn't have been able to stand in his way, to deny him his one wish.
Sevas on the other hand had never been so happy; he had finally gotten the boy to become a proper assassin. There was always that one aspect about the boy, which should have never been present in one who works as a blade.
The nameless child always had a fire in his eyes, a light that couldn't be extinguished. It wasn't courage or will, no, because both of those were needed in an assassin of Sevas' caliber.
It was hope. A blinding light that even with the extended time with Sevas just hadn't extinguished, it didn't matter if the elder assassin beat, whipped, or cut the boy open. It was always there, every single time he looked him in the eyes.
Qrow, Sevas thought with disgust. Sevas had always known who the boy's father was; the boy looked too much like the X-class Huntsman, The Soul Reaver. The black hair, the singular red eye, and the shape of his face, though Sevas could see some aspects mixed in with those, probably the mother.
Besides, every huntsmen and high-class criminal knew of the boy, at least, everyone at the S-class and above did.
Years ago the Soul Reaver had gone completely insane looking for his heir, the underworld of Mistral had lost five hundred B-Class fighters, fifty A-Class fighters, and three S-class fighters on that fateful day.
Normally damage like that to the military of a city would have severe repercussions, yet Qrow had managed to get away from it all with but a slap on the wrist, knowing someone as powerful as Ozpin had its benefits.
Sevas had found the entire situation hilarious, especially when several requests had come up for the containment of the Soul Reaver known as Qrow. Of course no one dared order his death, his connections to a certain headmaster had been well known, and not many wanted to tango with that specific X-class Huntsman.
Truthfully even Sevas wasn't sure of his chances against the coffee addicted headmaster, even with the element of surprise on his side, his chances were only sixty percent, which actually said a lot, Sevas knew of only a handful of people that could bring his chances below the eightieth percentile.
Sevas had taken Qrow down easily, the Soul Reaver had been consumed by rage and loss, and it had not made for a proper fight. He remembered a conversation the two had after Qrow's capture, just as he had been walking the red-eyed man to the gates of mistral.
"So, Soul Reaver," Sevas spoke with a mocking tone, one that Qrow had not even noticed as he wallowed in his loss. "What sort of unholy task had you so riled up?"
Sevas had been curious, mainly because Qrow Branwen was very well known in certain circles, and none of them had ever pegged him as an emotionally damaged brat. Because only an emotionally damaged brat would have the mindset of kicking down the door of the most well-known criminal organization, and then cripple most of them either mentally or physically. While none of them would ever be in fighting condition again, it seemed that the Huntsman held back just enough to not kill anybody, something that Sevas found rather soft.
Although, killing that many would have most likely created problems not only for Qrow, but also for those who backed him.
"My son…" the wallow man started with a whisper.
"Some idiot killed your son?" Sevas asked incredulously. The Shadow Reaper didn't believe that this would be the end of it all if that was the case, if the Soul Reaver's child had been killed, Sevas wouldn't be surprised if in the near future corpses started to pile.
"My sister disappeared a while ago," Qrow started, but his eyes were dull, he was most likely speaking in a state of despair, purely just wanting to get the crushing information out of his heart. "I thought she died. Lost myself in alcohol while I was in Mistral taking care of my son, he was only a year old. His mother had been busy preparing a schedule for the combat class in Beacon. I–I forgot."
Sevas listened patiently, yet not feeling the slightest sympathy for the man either. He was an assassin, sympathy and other such emotions held no place in his heart.
"Do you want to know the funny thing?" Qrow asked after a couple minutes of silence.
"Hmm," Sevas replied noncommittally.
"Raven left on her own," Qrow said as he chuckled to himself, most likely out of the stress weighing on him. The reason his whole world crumbled down, was an assumption made in a moment of fear.
It was a big surprise for Sevas to run into the boy about four years later. Sevas, then and there, decided to train the boy to become the best killer in the world, an assassin without peer. He wondered what the nameless child's potential would be, to be trained from such a young age with Qrow's blood flowing through his veins. The possibilities were limitless.
It was also his way of flipping the bird to Qrow; he could only imagine what it would be like when father and son met years later, when the long lost son returns a monster.
Multitudes of roars could then be heard from far away, Sevas grinned from ear to ear.
It was time.
The elder assassin pulled the younger boy to the edge of the cliff, to get a very good view of the village's last day standing.
"Burn this day into your mind, all of these people, the elderly, the young, and even the unborn," Sevas spoke as he pointed toward the village being trampled and ravaged by different types of Grimm. "They suffer because you decided you needed a heart, you're a selfish brat who wanted to feel good about yourself by helping others, and now they suffer because of you."
Sevas held the boy's unmoving body in place as they both watched the village burn to the ground. They could hear the screams of terror, young and old getting ripped to shreds and eaten. The children weren't spared as they screamed for help, only to find themselves in the jaws of Grimm ripping them apart slowly, slow enough to enjoy the pain they were inflicting.
All the while the nameless boy watched with dull, dead eyes. It was his own fault, he understood that very well. He understood what his master had told him, he had protected so he himself wouldn't feel ashamed of not taking action, so he could know that he had brought happiness to another.
It was selfishness, not benevolence, and the villagers would suffer for his actions.
He understood the message his father figure had been trying to teach him, it was rather simple. He was weak, and that was why he was powerless. To be weak was a sin, the world didn't accept weakness. Only strength and power could mold a path, only those with a blade were winners.
On that grim day, the boy decided. He wouldn't only wield a blade, he would become the blade, he would become the shadows everyone feared, because only then would he be able to be free.
Freedom isn't the highest good. Power is. For without power, your freedom can be taken, the boy repeated to himself what he had been told by his master.
And so he watched, watched the consequences of his actions, he gazed at the reality he lived in and accepted it.
On that day, the nameless boy died, as an assassin was birthed.
Author Note: Yeah, so we get to find out who the father is, makes you wonder who the mother is eh? You can probably guess, or maybe not. You'll find out though, soon. I personally quite like this chapter mainly because of the transformation the MC undergoes in regards to morality and viewpoint, if you liked it, then I'm sure you'll love the coming chapter, and if not... Yeah I got nothing.
