"An inexperienced heart is weak..."

"Able to be easily manipulated..."

"Fragile enough to be completely swallowed by the darkness..."

"But when one's heart develops powerful connections with the hearts of others..."

"It may manifest the strength to not only persist but thrive as well..."

Several figures stand in the center of an otherwise lifeless intersection, a misty rain pouring from the darkened sky above. A great number of monstrous creatures with emblems on various points on their bodies surrounded the group, slowly closing in as the three figures stood back to back.

"The beacon didn't work! What's our plan now?!" asked a visibly distressed male with long, blonde hair and pointed ears as he clutched a peculiar sword in his left hand and a shield in his right. A robotic-looking female had her back pressed directly against his. She pointed towards the creatures in front of them, the spots where the tips of her fingers should be replaced by circular holes. "We need to reconvene with the others! We could really use their assistance!" she exclaims as she thrusts her arms forward, firing a barrage of bullets from her fingers toward the creatures directly in front of her and vanquishing several in the process. The third member of the group, a young man with short, black hair stares silently toward the looming threat. A look of anxiety grows on his face as he extends his arm outwards. A three-foot-long sword materializes within his grasp. The blade was bronze in color with a protrusion resembling the teeth of a key with a distinct crescent-shaped gap attached to the side of its upper portion. Surrounding the violet hilt was a circular guard from which hung a bronze chain and from that chain hung a crescent-shaped token. "I-If we fail now, we don't get a second chance. Stand... Stand your ground!" As The black-haired youth swings his blade, several of the creatures begin to rush forward prompting the rest to follow suit. The cornered group begins to spread out, fighting valiantly as they each focus on taking out their chunk of the horde. The heart-shaped moon that hung in the sky above shined down upon them as they battled, rays of light from it shining down upon a nearby skyscraper, atop which stood a figure in a black coat.

...

Vector City. A technologically advanced, albeit heavily overpopulated metropolis housing 49.4 million and counting divided among a total of 19 sectors. A totalitarian government known as the Sanctum dominates the city, controlling the lives of each and every one of its citizens. For sixty years now, the regime has held a tight stranglehold on the population, working tirelessly to ensure complete and total obedience to the party within the general public. But it seems now that their grip is beginning to weaken. And this is all due to the efforts of a single insurgent group known as N.O.R.A.

Our story begins in the smog-filled wasteland that is Sector 12, a sector of the city that contains approximately 60% of its factories and is heavily centered around the factory industry. A heavily clothed male with long black hair and a goatee walks along an isolated sidewalk to the immediate right of a railroad track near the zone's northwestern edge, what appears to be a suitcase in his left hand as he holds a flip phone up to his ear. Several other figures armed with rifles surround him on all sides as he walked along.

"Yes... Yes, We will arrive shortly for the meeting. Hm? Oh? Yes, I will ensure that he releases all of his holdings within the company. You have my word on tha-" He is suddenly cut off by the sound of gunfire, his phone dropping to the ground below as he begins to panic. He drops to the concrete below, hugging it as his armed guards are gunned down by currently unknown forces. He cowers on the ground, eyes closed as he clutches his briefcase to his chest. After a few seconds, he hears several sets of footsteps crunching against the ground as they approach him slowly. He slowly looks up to find the barrel of a pistol pointed right at his head, a pink-haired young woman dressed in a white tank top, tan shorts, and knee-length leather boots holding the firearm as she looked down at him menacingly. She stomps her right boot on the ground, destroying the cell phone that the man had previously dropped. "Search his bag, Snow," she orders as a very tall young adult male with medium-length blonde hair covered by a black bandana and wearing a lightly-worn trench coat runs up to him. He places a boot down on the man's hand as he rips the briefcase from his grip. "T-take what you want. J-Just please don't kill me...," the subdued male pleads, his heart racing. Snow looks down at him. "No promises," he says rather bluntly. He unclasps the briefcase before removing the documents contained within. He then looks over them. "Hmm... Looks like nothing is relevant to us... Are you sure this is the guy, Light?" The woman thinks. "We were told that he was seen poking around the Chipped Arrow with a camera. He must have been up to something," she states as she snatches the documents from Snow. "I'm telling you, Lightning. It's just a bunch of business talk on stocks, bonds, and whatnot. No photographs or anything of the sort." Lightning scans through the documents, her eyes narrowing as she does this. "She sighs, allowing the documents to fall to the ground where they proceed to scatter in the wind. "His pockets. Search his pockets then." Snow complies with Lightning's order, rummaging through the man's jacket and pant pockets. "Nothing but cigarettes and breath mints... And a wallet... " He looks through the wallet. "Cash... credit cards... ID... And a slim-fit condom," he says with a growl as he tosses the wallet aside. He mutters to himself as he steps back a couple of feet. Lightning groans, holding her free hand to her forehead.

"Fine... If he's clean, then send him on his way." Snow looks puzzled. "Let him go? But we just executed four of his bodyguards, we're in too deep to just release hi-" "Just do it." Snow looks down, shaking his head as he forcibly pulls the man to his feet. "Get a move on, guy. Before we change our minds." The hostage immediately begins to run off in the other direction. "If he squeals, we may have some trouble," Snow states as he crosses his arms. Lightning shrugs. "What's new? We've been at war with Sanctum forces for what? Eight months now? I don't think N.O.R.A.'s reputation could possibly be any more tarnished than it already is. Not when they're already pumping out propaganda about us 24/7." Snow sighs. "Guess I can't argue with you there..."

Lightning looks towards a third figure standing just a few dozen feet away. "Markus, log our status," she calls. A black-haired, silver-eyed teenage male dressed in grey skinny jeans, black combat boots, a purple hoodie, and orange, fingerless gloves nods before he begins to talk into an earpiece. "Assault Unit XIII to Nirvana. Tell Commander Wallace that it was a false alarm, intelligence botched the info dump. All 3 unit members are unharmed. Will return by sundown," he says into it, a look of mild irritation on his face.

The younger male looks down and shakes his head as he slings a rifle over his shoulder. "So we slaughtered four men for nothing, huh?" he asks as he walks on over to the other two. Lightning sighs, looking back at the corpses on the ground several feet away with a guilty expression. "Effectively, yes..." Markus sighs as he crosses his arms, shaking his head. "Alright then... Let's just... return to base before someone catches onto what we've done." Snow walks on ahead, eyes closed as he attempts to wipe their recent actions from his mind. "Then let's get a move on," he says as he wields a rifle with both hands. Markus follows him, staring at the ground. "You're gonna have some explaining to do once we get back, Snow." The older male spins around. "Why just me? We all had a role in this," Snow replies. Markus chuckles softly as he shakes his head. "But you're the one who fired the killing shots. That's on you, buddy." Snow becomes visibly agitated. "Oh blow it out your ass! I was following our orders!"

Lightning stomps her foot down. "Zip it!" she commands, the two males immediately falling in line. "There's no point in arguing over it now. There's nothing we can do to take it all back... We have far bigger things to fret over...," Lightning states firmly. She was right. They and their entire organization were considered enemies of the state... Domestic terrorists that desire nothing more than to be able to inflict harm on the general population. At least according to the narrative pushed by Sanctum's state media.

Markus grits his teeth. "Fucking troglodytes...," Markus mutters to himself, thinking of all of the people out there who just eat up the Sanctum's political dogma without question. "We're trying to bring basic human freedoms to this bleak shithole of a city! And the masses do nothing but sit on their knees and lick the Sanctum's boots as they openly decry the basic rights that they deserve as human beings! Just begging for more oppression!" Lightning places a hand on Markus's shoulder. "Calm down. I know that you're on edge... We all are. But we can't lose hope just yet." Snow chimes in. "The resistance is as strong as ever. We are over 330,000 strong. Up dramatically from the mere 10,000 we had just over half a year ago... We are a successful movement. And so long as we play our cards right, we will only continue to grow." Markus stops in place, clenching his fists as he turns his gaze to the smog-filled sky above. "I hope with every fiber of my being that you're right..."