". . . . . ." I stare blankly at the white scenery with black writing, after what seem to be a drowsy awakening. My mind was blank and my hand moved to get the book off of my face. I guess end up sleeping mid-way of reading this book. It's about this adventurer who has one of his many shipwrecks and ends up exploring a new continent enslaved by this demon called much as I liked the lore, the details about his journey took the cake. Every detail of his actions were elaborated so that I could imagine his actions and senses in my head. It brings me peace in the mind that-

"-AHHHH!" . .Huh, Fron? Is he in a fight?. Man, and I was about to continue reading towards the good part. But my chest felt really uneasy, as if something bad was about to happen.

*Drap drap drap* welp, that answers that. . . .

The sound is heavier than our normal footstep indoors. Everyone living here never went inside with any shoe wear as it was their tradition to do so. I decide to set some things up in the room and instantly hide beneath the bed.

*Bam BAM!*

The sound of a heavy object trying to take down this well-made wooden door. "Man, this is a bad day for Fron. The doors are all his woodcrafts built from scratches" i wonder what else our "guests" destroyed.

*Blam!* The door was send flying, it crashed through the wooden wall as if a giant cannonball just went through it. What surprise me more is these weird people coming from what remains from the door.

"Aren't those . .a bishops uniform? But why the emo black purple theme? and those mask looks rather . .disturbing. . ." Ahhh, I see? Are these like Gamindustri's cultish organization? One who rejects the goddess revolutionary blessings and follows this "deity of sin".

Many books I learned from Frons documents happen to describe this name, some would say she was once a goddess gone rouge against the rules of nature. Others would say an interdimensional being who travels to space to eliminate planets. All which leads to the ultimatum of her being sealed by the four goddess which governs Gamindustri.

Back to reality, the two cultist only look against each other and search throughout the room, as if they communicate without sound. What are they? Robots? Or are they using telepathy. I guess it makes more sense with the if that's not convincing enough, they seem to have this weird crystal implanted on their arms, glowing menacingly red. One of them perked up that instant as if my gaze has caught the crystals attention.

"O-oh shet!" he seems to have noticed something, facing my direction. Did we have an eye contact? I never knew those crystal accessories are like some sort of eyes. "That bed . . ." I started to sweat profusely as one of them slowly approached my direction, this guy also summon this weird katana . . .whait, why is that katana familiar with -

"HAAAAA!" with a thunderous roar, he sliced my bed in half, exactly a few good distance from slicing my right arm. " . . ." there was only silence and white feathers falling down, which I assume was the pillow acting as a dummy unit for me. My heart feel like bursting as the mans blade continues to scratch the floor with a loud screech.

"The hell? I thought he really know my hiding place?"Then he kneeled and I soon find myself eye to eye with the guy with the mask. Well, not technically with that creepy eye-cover with a gem placed on its center. (kinda like Rider Medusa from Fate series). " well,Hello there boy"

"Yo . . ." I said nervously as we exchange a "friendly" gesture, the mans body clearly said otherwise as he reached his katana.

Bang

Panic, I took a secondary gun from my sleeve pockets and blasted his face with a burst fire. "GYAAARGH!' he screamed inaudibly loud as the pellets grazed his face. I rolled towards the bottom of the drawer and took off my gunblade. I skid as fast as I could through a hole in the wall to get out of here in hopes to get revenge one day . . . .

"Your not escaping!"

*Bang*

"AUUGH" with a ear-breaking scream, I rolled down as the shock caused me to loose balance, and I felt the pin-shaped object pierced through my shoulder. Seconds later another wave of pain surges through me, which may be way worse than what the flame bringer Prometheus could experience, this one petrified my nerves. My breathing felt heavier thanks to the situation I am, and my head feels like splitting as strange high-frequency noises echoes loudly in my head

As those sounds dispatched and my nerves recovered abit, I feel my hand and body being touched all over by those guys. All I can do is stay still while I lost most of my money and equipment: Including Frons emergency gun, my gunblade, and a pocket knife I secretly took from Fiora's molester days ago. Knowing that fighting them now is a fools choice for death.

"(&%$&$ %^&%^&%-^%$*(* -%!*!"" :} *y!" I heard someone talked gibberish, and it only make less sense to me thanks to my ears being "half- awake". However, those muffled voice amplifies the pain within my head to the point that I thought an earthquake would occur. As the sound continues to subside overtime, I can hear those cowards running away.

*Fwoom* I heard something lit up . . . Then I felt the chill in the air disappearing.

*Shhhhhhh*

"Mother fu-"I was a bit confused at why the temperature increased. When I turn my back, I was greeted by a bright orange color of flames. I tried my best to roll over towards the cold ice. My body however, only nudged a bit thanks to the numbness.

"Move dammit!MOOOVEE!'" At last, i rolled to the sideways, my late reaction results in my attire burned up, the wools slowly turned into ashes and smoke.

"Ow-w-w-w, hot" with my current clothing, chilly atmosphere had no trouble reaching my skin. It felt like a thousand needles raining down, piercing my skin with each tick sends shivers down my backbones.

*Rap . .tap tap*

"Crap" I quickly jumped to a nearby tree hole and hid there. Those cultists returned, with a shovel to pick up "My ashes" into a garbage bag. What in the pits of tartarus are they gonna do with that? Some kind of offering to their god? Judging by their skull attire and dead-ly weapons, they probably worship a deity which may manipulate the afterlife.

"HEY, HE's LOOSE!" I looked at my left, where a cultist grunt points to Frons house-

"NO WAY?!" I was beyond shock to see an injured Fron lashed some of the cult which took the kids and Fiora hostage, only to fail before a mighty axe's hilt knocking his head. The wielder wore something more of a knight with the hood of an assassin rather than a bishop-theme. The rage boiled my blood to the point where my skin ignores the chilling atmosphere.

" . . . .FROOOOOOON!" by impulse I was about to leap towards them and beat the living crap out of them. However, my body thought otherwise and ran away as far as I could. My hand covered up the bullet wound on my side, hoping to erase any trace of blood to prevent a search party on their side to hunt me down.

"D-dammit all!' My mind curses for not being able to help and the vision of the man will continue to exist within my memory. I ran away from what once was a place I nearly called home. A few steps later, I found myself wanting to witness the place for one last time from a higher ground. So I climbed a large rock to observe the place.

The wooden home Fron built, his entire sweat and blood, crumbled from the crimson fire. The man himself was now dragged away, dead or alive i cannot say. The kids and Fiora were forced to walk with their face being covered by something which reminds me of a public execution. However, even without the covers. I can already tell that their face is of person whom lost hope.

My thoughts and feelings were distorted and bent out of shape. I can feel myself walking aimlessly as if I'm surrounded by some kind of magical fog. Each step only became heavier by every distance I take. But it's not because of physical fatigue, but rather something else restraining me from leaving. Guilt

" . . . . ." Eventually, those feelings vanish. However, when I grasp onto a tree. The scent remind me of Frons house, and it drove me mad as the image of them resurfaced crystal clear. "RRRGH!"I punched an innocent tree in hopes that the physical pain will let me forget, whileso i had to shut my mouth tightly to silence myself from being detected by those guys.

"Why . . ..?" I asked myself, tears began to bottle up and disrupt my vision. But this does not hinder my punching accuracy towards the tree.

"Why did this happen? why am I powerless against it again?" I continued to question my strength as I stared at my scarred hands. Eventually, I feel calm and satisfied enough to stop this legs are too weak for intense work, so I slow down my moving pace to contain my stamina against the start of an rough blizzard.

"I don't know who they are. But if I one day find them. Surely, -" the longer my mind talks, I started to have a deeper and demonic voice, as if some demon of destruction has possessed me.

"-I'LL JUDGE THEM AT THEIR OWN CLEANSING FIRE!"

(Narrator POV)

As the boy made his vengeful oath, a cloaked individual sat at the top of a cliff, the person stared at Vent and then towards a spare cloak held by a hand of fair white skin. A hand which may belong to a innocent women by it's elegant appearance, yet the way she held a crystal dagger was that of an experienced fighter. Further emphasizing her beauty, the dagger shone like a million treasures despite the traces of combat existing within the weapon.

"Even now, you're still flowing with fate's stream." a smile manages to pop out of the hoodie as her vision looked into Vents eyes. "perhaps a trial would do . . ." The individual tied the spare cloak onto the crystal knife, and throws it onto a tree which was 10 feet away from Vents position as if she predicted Vents would go towards that direction. "Are . .you certain about this? even that dagger is-" a younger female sound asked, which came from another cloaked figure emerges from behind the dagger wielder, the former possess significant amount of red hair flowing out of her cloak. "Yes,i am my dear. After all, this was all set in motion for your . .intriguing question, though I must admit I am not so sure that this will end well for our . .Ex-hausted friend over there" The red hair remained silence until the former decides to ask something.

"Let his strength decide the outcome . . . . .lets now focus on you, are you done with your adaptation lesson?" The red hair nodded as a sign of approval, she extends her right arm and clawed her fingers, lines of fire began to circle around the space around her hands. A second later a sphere of fire floats atop the casters hand, gaining the older ones interest as she grins in superb. "Excellent-" the red girl later grasped her. "I believe now is the time to demonstrate it, please track those lost sheep for now. We will begin the next preparation right" The youngest nodded before disappearing quickly into a puff of wind.

As the dagger women looked back. it stands correctly that Vent has reach out to the hoodie and the crystal dagger without a second thought, treating it as his luck. Smirking with brimming excitement from behind her hidden figure as she wonders the boys journey against this seemingly vengeful ordeal.

"How deep can one dive into an abyss alone before he succumbs to the darkness . . . . . and lost himself once again "

A/n: SON OF A ********, Another authors block after another. Ugh, this stinks. But I want to lead Vent to reach out towards an interesting future. It's not that im sick with the Oc's joining Nep and gang and slay whatever evil fate has in store. It's just my personal challenge to type something different from other than the mainstream

(Yeah right, like writing an Oc fanfic isn't a common thing) Dammit narrator!

But anyway, from the looks of it. Man's gonna have trust issue with himself. He did blame himself for Compa and (Now) Fron. And these girl seems to take interest in Vent. and whats this Pyromancer's question that leads to the existence of this ordeal? perhaps she is the mastermind of the cult? or perhaps something more interesting than that. We can only hope to know that in future chapters.