Prologue - Red that suppressed the White of the Snow

Everything was covered in a crimson blanket. No matter where he looked, that crimson shade just would not fade away. What was going on? It was normal for the entire landscape to be completely white. He was in a complete daze, until only seconds ago he was taking a nap in his bunk. He rubbed his eyes roughly, looking to check if the crimson filter would finally disappear. He opened his eyelids again, suddenly an unbearable pain ravaged his retinas. Instinctively he closed his eyelids again, while pressing his eyes with his thumbs. He would rather gouge them out than continue to endure such abominable pain.

"Stop! That's what the enemy wants you to do!" Before he could remove his eyeballs, a furry hand prevented him from doing so. Before he could reproach it for the interruption, the one who had stopped him forced him to his feet. "Come on, get up, if we don't get the hell out of here we'll die too."

"I-I can't... I c-can't..." He muttered in a broken voice; just like his spirit. If that was what they wished for, if what those fuckers wanted was his death, then he would gladly end his own life; all for the sake of ceasing to suffer such unbearable pain.

He tried to resume the removal of his eyes, but then he received a strong punch on his cheek. "It's all in your mind, man, you can beat it." That was easy for him to say, it was clear that his willpower was unbreakable; only that way was it possible to survive an encounter with those who were attacking them.

Despite the fact that he did not consider himself capable of resisting the powerful force that was subduing him, he finally decided to comply with his partner's instructions and focused on the sensations in his own face. What he felt was not real. He focused even more, now on the sensations in his eyes. That pain was not real.

"I think I'm doing it, yeah, I'm resisting it!" He exclaimed excitedly. The pain was finally subsiding. "I made it Ha-!" But before he could finish speaking, a powerful explosion took place just over a yard away from him; right behind where his partner was standing. His body was thrown several meters away from where he was. "W-wha? Koff! What happened?" He managed to ask between groans of pain and fits of coughing.

Once again he tried to open his eyelids. He feared that terrible pain would return with a vengeance, but to his luck, this did not happen. The crimson filter remained there. He looked to where the mercenary should have been, but only a crimson crater covered in fleshy remains remained there instead. Nausea struck him and he was forced to look away.

It was then that he finally realized that he was soaked, completely soaked from head to toe. He could finally understand. That crimson filter had nothing to do with his eyes, the answer was as simple as everything around him was bathed in a red liquid. The first thing he thought of was his friend the mercenary, but he dismissed that option. It pained him to think about it, but it was clear that so much blood could not come from a single body.

Shocked, he felt drops falling on his hair and face, and soon looked up at the sky. There loomed a wide, spiral-shaped cloud. A cloud so black that it could only herald the worst of storms, and yet the water falling from it could not be considered water at all. That was not rain, unless the sky had started to bleed.

"I'm sick of dealing with you people." As he gazed absorbedly at the black cloud from which blood was raining, he could hear a disdainful voice originating from a place a few meters away from him. He reacted quickly and looked towards the place where the unknown voice came from. There stood a man, glaring at him.

"T-The Witch's Apostle." He managed to utter, completely terrified. That was the first time he had seen that man, yet he was not unaware of the name by which he was called. The dark jet-colored hair that stuck out from the hood that covered his head gave him away. In Gusteko it was not usual to meet individuals with that color of hair, but when such a thing happened, it was to be expected that problems would arise.

The man was clad in a dark purple robe; a purple so dark that it could easily be mistaken for black. His barely visible arms were wrapped in multiple layers of bandages smeared with bloodstains. In his hands he carried some sort of weapon that was not unfamiliar to him. And his face was highlighted by the malevolent look he possessed, though with a simple glance at his darkly bagged eyes, it was evident that he was exhausted.

"Hmm... Hearing that moniker at another time would have annoyed me, but I suppose I've gotten used to it by now." Whispered the Witch's Apostle more to himself than to him. "Anyway... I'm tired that no matter how many of you I murder, you always find a way to keep using my ideas to your advantage."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about..." He replied, trembling.

"Of course not, your bosses simply put you and your colleagues to build my inventions for them without providing you with any details. I'm afraid they haven't paid me for royalties, though."

"Royalties?" He asked in confusion.

"Don't mind me, I was just saying something stupid." He replied smiling slightly at him, a smile so creepy that he was tempted to run away on the spot. But it was useless. "I have to send a message to your bosses, so I can't leave any of you alive. I'm sorry."

"N-No! Please!" He begged, dropping to his knees. But that only got the apostle to burst into laughter.

"If begging were enough, maybe I wouldn't be here..." He remarked, his voice laden with a certain air of melancholy. "But I fear that dealing with you has taken up valuable time, and my mistress expects me to fulfill a mission for her in a few days." After saying this, he pulled a black book from his tunic and glanced at it. After a few seconds a gesture of annoyance took shape on his face. "Tch! I've had enough of this stuff. Well, whatever. I'll take care of everything as quickly as possible and go back to look for Capella. When I find that sneaky bitch I'll make sure to squeeze every last bit of information out of her."

"..." Puzzled by the Witch's Apostle's demeanor, he remained silent as he stared at his disgruntled looking face.

"Anyway. This was all nothing more than a swift personal mission of mine, so I must take my leave." Said the apostle, giving a small bow. After that, he brought his hand to his chest.

Both looked at each other without anything happening for several seconds, and then the apostle winced in pain and anguish. For an instant, he did not understand what was happening; it was then that he felt something cold in his chest. He looked down, only to find that streams of blood were now gushing out from under his shirt. Before he could check what was happening to his body, he collapsed to the ground completely devoid of life.

The Witch's Apostle stared for several seconds at the corpse before looking away. "If I hadn't taken her deal, maybe I would have ended up just like him... Even so, I'm still too weak, far too weak. Too weak to protect them all, too weak to kill them all. If only I were stronger..." Whispering that, he vanished from those illegal weapons manufacturing facilities.

Hi! As always, before I say what I have to say, I wanna thank all of you for your support of this story; I'm always happy to read your comments on this story I'm writing. Now, some of you may be wondering what the hell this is. Well, as the title says, a prologue. I decided to add a prologue to this story to make it easier to understand where this fic is going. And well, that's it, I really hope the prologue got you guys excited, if only a little bit.