The clown stood broad sword in hand, upon a hill of corpses. Beside him lay the man he had once known to be his father, protector, and friend. The clown had white gravity defying hair and a cursed red scar covering the left side of his face. A white cape glowed around his body with a silver mask resting on the hood. The clown looked down at his father, worn and ragged, a smile on his blood stained as he breathed what were sure to be his final breaths.
"A-a-Allen," the clown's father stammered out. "I-i'm so sorr-ry."
The clown, Allen Walker, looked down at his foster father, "I know, Mana. I forgive you father, and I love you." Mana Walker, the Millennium Earl smiled wider and then shakily breathed his last, as his son, the silver clown, cried upon the hill of his dead friends' bodies.