Author's Note: Hello all and welcome welcome welcome to the Prologue of WDB! It's been great to see all the submissions and I really can't wait to get to writing out this story! For now, how about a little introduction to the world eh?

OP- Clock Strikes by ONE OK ROCK

Prologue: All's Chaos on the Western Front

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen!"

Somewhere in the trenches of the western front, Atticus Rockefeller stepped out of the entrenched barracks welcomed a new day on the front lines. It may have been early, but the soldiers already bustled about in their muddy holes in the ground, almost like a small town. Amongst the clutter of dirtied uniforms walking with their heads down so they won't lose it to long ranged sniper fire, Atticus saw a familiar face waving him down.

"Hey Atti! Get over here, we got you some candy! Johnson's been eyeing it for the past ten minutes so you better hurry and get your ass over here." called a tall, fair skinned man with blonde hair and a full beard.

To the man's right, the man called Johnson raised his hands in defense. "Woah there, I was looking at it for like a minute at most." he said as he laughed.

Atticus gave a small laugh as he joined his companions sitting on empty crates. His blonde friend, Private Richard Calico, offered him a chocolate bar which Atticus quickly grabbed before Johnson's prying hands could grab it first.

"Calm down boy, I'll let you have the next one." Atticus teased as he swung the chocolate bar around triumphantly.

"I'll get you next time you old fart." Johnson retorted.

"I'll have you know sir that my grey hair does not make me old or a fart. I'm still at the young, spry age of 28!"

The three all shared a laugh at their antics. Once they calmed down a bit Atticus turned his attention back to his blonde friend.

"So Calico, how's the wife and kid? Been in touch with them I hope." Atticus inquired as he leaned in.

Almost immediately after the question, Richard reached into his breast pocket and proudly withdrew a folded piece of snow white paper.

"Well I got this…"

Unfolding it, he revealed a poorly drawn picture of three smiling stick figures, all in various colors of crayon.

"...in the mail yesterday." he finished with a smile.

The stick figure farthest to the right was wearing a green shirt and black shorts, with blonde squiggles on the face and head barely making it out to be Richard himself. Beside his stick figure self were two presumably female stick figures in pink dresses, both with long brown hair, the one in the middle being noticeably shorter than the two on the outside. Above the figures in pink crayon was written "I love you Daddy" with "come home soon" written below. Atticus and Johnson shared a pleased laugh as Johnson leaned in for a better look.

"Amy drew it for me herself." Calico boasted proudly, showing off the photo like it was a masterpiece out of the finest art museum in the country.

"Well isn't that something?" Johnson asked with a smile, "I never knew you had a little DaVinci around the house!"

"Well maybe if you're lucky you'll get to see her in action when I bring you two to my place after the war's over."

"I can't wait to see the little rascal, kids are just fantastic creatures." Atticus chimed in.

Richard folded the picture up again and tucked it safely away.

"Well that's enough about me, how're your families?

"Ah, same old. Mother's still enjoying her retirement and father's telling me I should have just been a businessman like he is." Atticus said as he waved his hand dismissively.

"My girlfriend's waiting for me to come back, parents are still dead." replied Jonson, earning him slightly concerned looks from his friends.

"What?"

Atticus quickly changed the topic. "So… when are we being pushed back to Three anyhow? Our two weeks are up in two or three days, right?"

At this particular installation, there were three rows of trenches. Troops were to cycle between the trenches every two weeks to keep morale high, the front line soldiers being relieved by the second line and moving to trench three, much farther away from the conflict.

"Something like that Atti, but don't worry about it, the Russians are holed up in their trenches same as us. I don't think anyone's launching an attack on this place any time soon."

The men talked comfortably for a while, passing the day as they did most days, but today would be different from those peaceful days. From the distance, on the other side of no man's land, faint shouting was heard followed by loud pops that echoed through the crisp afternoon air. An alarm blared within the trenches as the three soldiers saw their brothers and sisters in arms rush to the front of the trenches and begin firing into the wasteland ahead, while those with more ranged quirks opted to use those instead. The heavy artillery began to fire an overhead bombardment, rocking the earth with every shot.

"Shit!" Richard shouted, "They couldn't have waited two more days?!"

"Grab your gun and move your ass!" Came the shout of a soldier running by.

The three did exactly that, grabbing their rifles, which had been leaning against an empty rations crate, and running towards the action. Atticus put on his helmet on the way. When they arrived at the front of the trenches, Atticus peaked over the trench edge to see a wave of men rushing towards them through the artillery bombardment across blackened wasteland, their own artillery arcing towards the trenches. For a moment Atticus found himself frozen at the sight ahead of him before his survival instincts kicked in and he raised his rifle to join the symphony of gunfire.

A blast of energy blew past Atticus to his right. He quickly ducked down and followed the shot with his eyes to see a fellow soldier with a charred stub where their neck once held their head, their dirty body slumping to the ground like a sack of blood-covered rocks. Further down the trenches an explosion of fire erupted that drew his eyes away from the gruesome body. Another group of soldiers had been lit aflame, screaming violently and twisting around in a cruel dance of death as their bodies blackened and melted. Atticus eventually forced himself to look away as they collapsed as ceased their movements, firing back over the trench line.

Artillery crashed all around, men screamed out for help as they bled out on the ground, their comrades falling dead around them. Atticus fired blindly at the wave of soldiers ahead, only looking away to crouch and reload his gun, or occasionally glance at Johnson and Calico, who fired their weapons alongside him. No matter what he heard Atticus didn't look back, he just kept shooting, not bothering to aim precisely. It was a matter of life and death now.

Around him, others kept falling, some shot, some scorched, some killed by other quirk-related means. Suddenly an artillery blast obliterated the ground a few yards in front of Atticus, sending him and the soldiers around him flying back. Atticus staggered to his feet, grabbing his weapon off the ground as he spit the dirt out of his mouth. He looked for his friends amongst the fresh chaos, and seeing them recovering, he rushed to help them. He grabbed Richard under the arm and helped him to his feet.

"Are you alright?!" Atticus tried to shout over the gunfire.

"I'm fine!" Richard shouted back.

Atticus then rushed to Johnson's side, who gave him a thumbs up to show he was ok. The three quickly returned their attention to the approaching wave of soldiers, though their ranks were gradually thinning, they couldn't be more than fifty yards from their current positions. The firing continued, more intense than ever. A torrent of bullets flew by their heads, some striking men, others slamming into the dirt and wood behind them, causing it to rain back down on the soldiers in the trenches. Blood began dripping from Atticus's forehead, probably from a wound caused by the artillery blast.

The enemy soldiers were closing in on the trenches now, and soldiers began shouting that they needed to fall back. Gradually the line of soldiers defending the front trench dwindled as they ran towards the secondary trench.

"Calico, Rockefeller, move your asses we gotta fall back!" Johnson shouted as he turned his back on the front lines and ran. Atticus and Richard moved to follow Johnson when another blast erupted in front of them, knocking them to the ground. The trio quickly scrambled to their feet, but when they rightened themselves to being their retreat, they noticed the ground where the shell hit sparkled with strange white crystals. Though confusion was soon replaced by dread as the crystals began expanding rapidly, turning into a wall of dazzling and incredibly sharp spikes in a matter of seconds.

"Holy shit! Get away! Move!"

Johnson tried to run, but his head was spun as he tried to get away. No matter how fast he tried to move, Johnson's body would only respond sluggishly, and he could do nothing but scream in pain as the first crystal impaled his thigh, preventing him from escaping. The crystals continued to grow, puncturing Johnson's chest as he continued to scream and thrash around while trying to free himself. He looked to his two friends for help, but there was nothing that could be done, a crystal pierced the back of his neck and emerged from his mouth before the crystals stopped growing, putting an end to the man's suffering. The two remaining soldiers had little time to mourn their fallen friend and the others impaled by the crystals. Enemy soldiers jumped down into the trenches, a bloody melee began amongst the soldiers.

A soldier landed in front of Atticus, raising his weapon to fire, but before he could shoot, Atticus dropped his rifle and swatted the gun away with his left hand while he brought a heavy right hook around to the soldier's face. The enemy soldier dropped his gun, not anticipating the blow, and stumbled backwards. He turned to look at Atticus again and, unleashing a battle cry, charged him at full speed. Atticus was knocked off his feet by the tackle and soon found himself pinned under the other soldier. He looked up in time to see the soldier's right arm morph like liquid into a sharp blade that was thrusted down at Atticus's head. Moving his head in the nick of time, the blade embedded itself in the mud mere centimeters from his ear.

Using all of the strength in his 6'1" body, Atticus shoved his opponent back long enough to make a grab for his sidearm and fire twice into the man's chest. The enemy soldier let out a groan as he began to bleed, but Atticus then turned the gun on the man's head and in one trigger pull blew his existence across the wall of the trench. Atticus spun to his right, aiming his pistol down the trench just as another soldier sent a glowing knife flying in his direction. The blade pierced Atticus's left shoulder, who then grunted in pain as he raised his sidearm and gunned down the soldier who was responsible, which caused the blade in his shoulder to dissipate. Atticus clutched his shoulder and looked over to see Richard beating a soldier with the but of his rifle until they stopped moving.

Atticus stood and ran towards his friend as enemy soldiers filled in the trench behind them, he heard one shout to alert the others.

"Get a move on Richard!" Atticus said as he grabbed his friend's arm while he ran past.

Gunshots erupted from behind them as they ran, bullets whizzing by them at every angle. Richard stumbled as he felt the bite of a bullet in his calf. Gritting his teeth, he pushed forward toward the nearest bunker. As they approached the bunker, Atticus felt a bullet tear open his side. He cried out in pain as they ran down the small ramp to the bunker door, giving them temporary cover from the barrage of bullets that still sparked and ricocheted against the bunker wall.

Richard struggled to pull the door open, but it refused to budge. After another try, Atticus quickly pushed passed Richard and placed his hand on the door. In an instant, the doorway was replaced by a portal that glowed purple around the edges. Through the portal, the interior of the bunker could be seen.

Name: Atticus Rockefeller III

Meta Ability (Quirk): Gateway

Description: Gateway allows Atticus to create a portal from one side of a surface to the other as long as the surface is less than 10ft thick.

Note: It's speculated that Atticus's quirk warps space-time to create these portals, which will occasionally lead to random objects from other time periods/timelines to appear in his general vicinity regardless of portal activation.

The two pushed through the portal as the sounds of shouting and gunfire drew closer. Once they passed through the portal, it closed just in time for the men to hear bullets slam into the outside of the door. The inside of the bunker was surprisingly empty, and the thick concrete kept most of the debris from the bombardments outside. The two men crept around the dimly lit space filled with thick cement pillars and supply boxes, looking for a place they could hunker down in until the invasion was hopefully repelled. The war could be heard raging on outside, more intense than ever. The two wounded soldiers decided on a pile of covered storage containers to hide behind for the time being. They laid back against the crates as their adrenaline wore off, their injuries burning as they tried to lessen the amount of blood running out of their wounds. The minutes passed like hours in the bunker as its two inhabitants sat in their hiding spot without speaking a word, the only noise coming from the sounds of war outside.

Atticus and Richard were tending to their wounds whenthe door on the opposite end of the bunker opened. The two scrambled for their weapons as they heard the dull thud of footsteps steps approaching their position. The intruders stormed in with a purpose, moving to what sounded like the edges of the bunker.

"Ясно!"

Atticus didn't speak Russian, but the circumstances they were in and the tone of voice made him realize what was happening.

'Oh dear Lord, they're looking for stragglers.' Atticus thought to himself as he looked over to Richard, who held his daughter's picture to his chest with his left hand and his service rifle in his right. From the short distance between them it looked like he was praying silently. Richard looked over at Atticus, it seemed he had figured out what was going on too.

The two pressed themselves up against their cover, not daring to make a sound. They listened carefully as the footsteps got closer, the men shouting every time they cleared an area. Atticus and Richard were stuck, frozen in place with no idea of how to escape. They locked eyes, asking each other the silent question "How do we get out of this one?"

The steps grew closer, and closer, and closer. Each thud of a boot rang out like thunder to the two soldiers cornered in the bunker. The steps only grew louder and louder until they were just on the other side of their cover. There was a pause, Atticus and Richard held their breath, not willing to make even the slightest sound as the room fell eerily silent. Richard looked above him as a helmet slowly shifted into view over the crate he hid behind.

"Дерьмо, здесь!"

Bang

Richard fired into the soldier's head just as he alerted the others. Atticus and Richard popped out of cover, firing as bullets slammed into the boxes and crates they hid behind. There were three enemies alive in total, Atticus fired at the one farthest to the right, Richard firing at the one in the middle. As hist target crumpled to the ground, Atticus felt immense pain erupt through his stomach as a bullet embedded itself in his flesh. To his left, Richard fired over the supply boxes, injuring his target, but he wasn't as lucky. Atticus looked over in time to see his best friend on the front stagger back as bullets collided with him, his blood shooting out like mist where each bullet made contact. And then, without a word, Richard crumpled lifelessly to the ground, the picture his daughter drew him lying on the ground next to him, her father's blood blocking out his image on the paper.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still for Atticus as he gazed at his dead friend. The moment was regretfully short lived, as bullets now berated his cover, sending bits of wood splintering into shrapnell that cut his flesh as it passed. Suddenly the gunfire ceased as the soldiers reloaded, and Atticus sprang into action.

He ran out from cover, firing first on the soldier closest to him, who promptly fell back against the cold concrete floor, dead. But, when Atticus turned his gun to the last remaining soldier, he found himself staring at the barrel of a rifle. Three gunshots rang out, Atticus's world spun and he found himself tumbling to the ground with immense pain in his chest, trying to hold onto his sidearm for dear life. He looked towards his assailant, his vision swaying as he raised his pistol and fired until the gun clicked empty.

The other remaining soldier now rested eternally in a pool of his own blood. Atticus tried to stand, but his world swayed yet again as he stared at a pool of blood that grew underneath him. He swayed for a moment as he realized the origin of the blood.

"Oh dear…"

And then the world went black.

Darkness, as long as it's complete it seems infinite, no matter how small the space your in is.

In this darkness he stood, unable to outrun it, unable to escape.

Alone.

With the screams, her screams, and then the fire.

Atticus awoke sweating profusely, his breathing ragged and shallow. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move. He rightened himself on the bed he found himself on. The room smelled like blood and disinfectant. He looked around at the faded white curtains that blocked his view of the surrounding room.

A medical building, that's where he was.

At the moment of his realization a nurse walked in, and, noting his consciousness, called for a doctor.

Within five minutes of this, an older man so small he was almost childlike walked in.

"Ya're finally awake are ya laddie? I'm suprised ya woke up 'n the first place! Lost a lot o' blood lost, eh nurse?"

Atticus shook his head, trying to see if his hearing was out of whack. Nope, the doctor just spoke with a weird country dialect.

Atticus tried to speak, his throat ached, but he asked, "How… how long?"

"How long? Ah, 'bout a week laddie, didn't miss much let me tell ya."

"What about... Calico?"

"Cali-wa now?"

"The soldier who was with me in the bunker."

The doctor glanced to the nurses, but their pause was the only answer Atticus needed.

"Oh…"

Atticus knew Richard had died there, but secretly a part of him hoped the opposite were true. Not that mattered now.

"I'm sorry for ya're loss laddie. Erm, this is for you. Now, I have other patients to check on, If ya need anyth'n else, call fer Doctor Grey!" the doctor said as he handed Atticus a yellow envelope before promptly walking out of the room. Atticus turned it over in his and and opened it. Inside was a letter, which Atticus unfolded.

PFC Rockefeller,

After much review we have decided you have the proper qualifications to be transferred into the new 54th international division as an Elite Action Squad candidate. We believe your meta ability and marksman scores could prove quite beneficial to the team. Dr. Grey has informed me that despite your current condition, your wounds will not leave permanent damage, save scarring, though you will still have the option to retire if you so choose. Should you choose to stay enlisted, testing will commence in exactly two months following this letter's writing date. Until then, take this time to recover from your injuries.

Signed,

-Major General Kegan, 54th International division.

Atticus sighed as he set down the letter and wiped the tears from his eyes that came from the earlier news of Calico's death. He didn't know what would come next, but he knew that the war was far from over. Atticus leaned back into his bed, gazing at the ceiling.

"I wonder if they'd let me have a cigarette while I'm here."

BOOM, done! I hope you enjoyed, please leave a review telling me what you think! Commentary is always appreciated and helps me improve my writing.

Two major announcements!

1) The deadline for OCs has been moved to the 20th, so take your time with them!

2) For management concerns I'm halving the available spots to better ensure every character gets more representation in the story.

I hope you all enjoyed and I can't wait to keep writing for you all!

Many thanks for being here,

-WhyDidIDecideToMakeThis