Written by: A guy with too little of an attention span to write properly (Me)

Inspiration from: An unstable landscape (my brain) and Twitter

Prologue: Monster


The lands of Ooo were unusual to say the least. The kingdoms that ruled ranged widely from candy to even foods one would eat for breakfast, and that is but the surface of the depths these lands offer. With sentient and intelligent life ranging from giant golems of stone to mere rodents and insects, the land was crawling with intelligent life and a kingdom to call home. All but human life.

While the land of Ooo was no stranger to humanoid life, there truly were no pure blooded humans alive in the lands ever since they all killed each other from the millennium war. All that remains of humanity are ruined structures and other remnants that the normal inhabitants usually scavenge for and learn from. Even though the war destroyed most of the remnants, there are still people who have learned from these remnants. Like that human over there-- Oh shit a human.

Lo and behold, scavenging through the rag and bone kingdom (also known as the dump) for whatever he could find, a small boy with dirty blonde hair and wearing rags could be found. He was seen looking through a pile of garbage and digging out some kind of tools. The rags were a dark green color and covered all but his arms and legs, almost looking like he found and oversized loincloth and just poked a hole for his head to stick out of and tie something around his waist to keep it from flying off. A human boy, looking for human things. Who knew?

After a moment of digging through rubbish, the boy's eyes widened momentarily and he grew a wide smile, grabbing ahold of something and using his entire body to try and yank it out. He struggled for around a minute before finally falling back on his back with what appeared to be a sword in his grasp. He groaned weakly before perking back up to examine the weapon he pulled out of the pile; a pitch black, chipped blade that looked almost serrated with a green gemstone in the center of its silver handle and another green gemstone at the end of its brown hilt. Despite having the hilt of a broadsword, the blade itself was reminiscent of a sabre or katana. Ah, another fine addition to his collection.

Yes, that's right. Instead of scavenging for food or for book to try and learn how to read, the small child was collecting weapons and swinging them around like toys. He would also try and build up dummies to hit with the blades, seemingly training with them and then picking out the ones he likes the most to keep. Maybe he just likes hitting things with swords or likes to cut things apart, but it seems that the boy does that more than even eating or sleeping. Weird kid, especially with the look he gives to anyone who even goes near him.

"Hmm..." the boy hummed while examining the blade, lifting it with all his strength and swinging it around slowly. "Heavy... but feels good..." he muttered, giving the sword one more swing and chopping a recliner in half. The boy smirked at his feat and examined the blade one more time. "I like you!"

Despite the blade being around double his size, he swung it around with ease and continued to slash away at random objects he could find. Whether it was because of the shape or a kind of primal urge, the boy preferred these kind of swords; a one sided blade for slashing and cutting instead of stabbing and thrusting, no matter the size. Though it's still quite confusing how a child his age is able to wield a weapon around twice his size with ease, the boy seemed to enjoy it.

Shortly after finding the blade, the kid threw it into a pile of weapons he gathered and pulled them all on a sled he found. The pile of weapons ranged from things as small as knives and daggers to battle axes and spears, though the majority of the weapons were swords of all different shapes and sizes. As long as it could cut, he wanted it. That's probably why he ignored the blunt weapons and took bolts and arrows while leaving the crossbows and bows. Clearly he was unaware of the fact that he was being watched, or maybe he would've tried shooting at the stalker with the crossbows he found.


"Alright baddies, listen up!"

The boy from earlier was now standing in front of a group of poorly made dummies, all different sizes and different pieces of trash. The child wielded a yellow, chipped sword with a ruby in its hilt in one hand and a serrated, red fire axe in the other.

He looked at the dummies with a glare and pointed his sword at them. "You trash cans are about to get all diced up by yours truly, so don't even bother trying to run away!" He shouted childishly.

"Oh yeah? What're YOU gonna do, you overgrown baby?" The boy tried to make his voice deeper and pretend that the dummies were talking.

He looked over to the one with a yellow bag for a head and tire for body and smirked. "Watch it, yellow head! This tough baby cuts up people like you for funs!" the boy shouted normally at the trash dummy.

"Why don't you prove it then, tough guy!?" The boy said in a different tone for another dummy with a cone head and potato bag body hung up on a small cross.

"Bring it!" The boy then launched himself at said dummy and jumped into the air, coming down with the two weapons overhead and making two sliced across the body upon landing. It would've been way cooler if he didn't roll over afterwards, but it's still a work in progress so there's still room for improvement.

The boy quickly got up and crossed his arms together, readying his weapons and slashing in the form of an X on the dummy. The body then tore open and actual potatoes fell out, and so did the cross it was hanging on soon after. The boy stood over his kill with a proud smirk on his face as he looked down at the sight. No matter how many times he did that, it was just so satisfying to do.

"Hahaha! Who's the baby now, dummy?!" He laughed, quickly turning his head to the other dummy next to him. It was a broken TV strapped to a shovel planted in the ground with a watermelon head. "How do you feel now, melon lord?!"

"I feel like I just saw a circus show with dumb clowns! I could tell because they all looked like you!" The melon lord replied in a mocking voice.

The blonde then grit his teeth at his own response and then shafted head first to the dummy; jumping into the air once more and this time lodging his axe into the melon and stabbing the TV with his sword. The boy planted both feet on the TV and then yanked off the melon that was strapped to the dummy, raising it in the air and letting out a kind of victory yell. He then pulled out his sword and fell to the ground on his back, letting out a quick yelp of surprise before hastily standing back up and swinging down his axe to the ground, causing the melon to splatter.

The boy let out a yell once more. "You're the dumb clown!!" He shouted as melon bits splattered all over. He paused and looked down to his juice coated axe and blinked, where he then proceeded to lick it.

"He's licking the blood off of his own weapon! He really is a monster!"

The kid froze up and turned around, almost baffled by the words that he himself said, and then threw the axe at another dummy. The weapon was lodged right into the torso and fell backwards, which was quickly followed by the boy jumping once more and plunging his sword through the dummy's head. Well, it was a box with a weird face on it, but it was still the head.

He growled at the dummy he stabbed, looking at it with an intense glare. "That's them, not me. I'm way better than those guys!" He shouted with a hint of venom behind his tone.

"The child of a monster will just grow up to be an even worse monster. Just look at you, you little freak!"

He froze briefly before looking at another dummy, once again baffled by the words he heard. After a moment he clicked his tongue, shook his head, and just ran at it. Still wielding his sword, he took a swing and cut a huge gash into the side of the tire it called a body, which would've collapsed if not for the stick that was supporting the body. He continued to swing his blade at it and cut a number of slashes into the body, which carried around his little body. It made sense, he was still a child and very light in comparison, but that didn't stop him from readjusting himself and thrusting his blade into the head.

He looked down at the yellow bag it called a head and only stared, the sound of laughter ringing in his own head. No, he wasn't a freak. He was just alone, and the whole world is against him. No, he wasn't a monster. You have to do whatever you can to live in this world. That's all there was to it, right?

"You humans are all the same."

The last dummy was standing right in front of him, glaring down with its radio head. The boy only stared at the dummy, panting lightly from his actions.

"You humans are a curse to all living things. Violence is practically coded into your genes!"

The monster found himself in a dark alleyway, his body covered in filth and his eyes shaking as he stared at the marauder at the other end. They all said the same things, yet every time the pain it gave him only worsened. No, he's wrong. The boy was just--

"It doesn't matter what kind of difference you make! At the end of the day, you'll still be a monster!"

He stared down the man in front of him with malice, the shaking spreading down to his blackened hands. He should be used to these words by now, and yet he couldn't help but get so angry at them. The man glared back with a look of disgust at the look and scoffed; his once smug and arrogant demeanor seemed to change in the blink of an eye.

"What's with that look, freak? Go on, I dare you to try something."

The man pulled out a large knife from the side of his belt and pointed it at the smaller child, who barely even reacted to the threat. Despite the extreme size difference between the small child and the marauder, the child's adrenaline only began to rush when he suddenly lunged at the blue skinned man. Shocked by the speed of the child, he barely reacted in time to swing down his blade and cut through the human's face. Or so he tried to.

Before he knew it, the knife in his hand was gone and was now in the grasp of the child's instead, who was now right next to his head as he slashed across the man's face. It wasn't a small cut either; he managed to cut from his nose all the way to his ear and leave a huge gash there.

The man screamed out in pain and held his face while stumbling backward. "GYAAGHH!! YOU LITTLE SHIT! You're a stinkin' MONSTER!!!" The man stared down at the glaring human, whose eyes were pretty much glowing in the dark.

The boy gnashed his teeth so hard he could crush diamonds. "...Stop it..." he barely muttered.

"Y-You're just like the rest of those damn monsters..!"

"...Stop it..."

"You should've just dropped dead!"

stop it.

"THERE'S NO PLACE IN THE WORLD FOR FREAKS LIKE YOU!!"

stop it.

stop it.

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...

The radio's buzzing eventually died out after a minute of having a bloody fist jammed into its speakers. The boy was kneeling over the torn up dummy and had been repeatedly punching the radio with his bare hands for about a minute straight. Due to repeatedly hitting broken shards of metal and plastic, when he pulled his hands out of the wreckage they were all cut up and bleeding. Despite this, he felt no pain. No physical pain, anyway.

The boy just sat there atop the mess he had made. He looked down to his hands and simply stared, watching as the blood trickled down from the cuts and onto the floor. Those blood drops were quickly joined by tear drops, though, and he began to sniffle as he finally realized what had happened. He lashed out and lost his mind. Soon enough, he finally let it out, and began to full blown cry.

After balling his eyes out for almost a minute straight, he covered his eyes with his bloody hands and tried his best to stop. "...I'm not a monster... I'm not..." he said in between sniffles. "...I don't wanna be... I don't... I just wanna help people...!"

After another minute of silently sniffling, he wiped his eyes and stood up on the pile of trash he caused. His face went from complete and utter sorrow to a simple dull expression, looking down with a tired look. Guess he got everything out of his system. The boy looked to the side of him and saw a broken wood stick on the ground, which he kicked into a pile of trash with a bit of force behind it. He walked slowly, thinking over about what he was.

No, he wasn't a monster.

No, he wasn't a freak of nature.

No, he wasn't a tool for violence.

He was simply human. A regular, everyday human.

And that was exactly the problem.

Maybe it was because of his lack of family, or because he didn't know anything about his heritage, but no matter what he did he was always just... lost. Lost in a world that hated him over nothing, in a world where being a human was a death sentence, where he had to do anything to live the next day, even if it meant being alone for his entire life. Maybe he should just let the falling car crash into him and just be over with.

Or he would've, if the car hadn't magically been split in two.

The car pieces had crashed into both the dummy he was just on and the pile of weapons he scavenged for throughout the yard.

"Woah--What?!" The boy looked around in shock and let out a sound of awe, staring closely at how the car was practically cut in half. Who could've done that? And how did--

"Leave this place, young one. This is no playground."

The sound of a robotic voice grabbed his attention, making him snap his head towards the source and find a mysterious figure shrouded in a dirty brown cloak, revealing only thin metal legs. The thing that caught his attention the most was the sword the stranger had just sheathed. Did he cut that car in half?

"H...how did you do that?" The boy asked as if he didn't just have a meltdown a few moments ago. "Did you cut it?"

After a brief pause, the figure seemingly turned back to the child and spoke. "It is a technique that I developed to better hone my swordsmanship, but that is unimportant." The stranger coughed briefly before speaking again. "Please leave this place, I will not ask again."

The young human had found himself staring, a new feeling he hasn't felt in forever swelling up in his chest. He had so many questions for the stranger, but most of them could probably be answered with 'Who are you?'. He was about to ask that question before the sound of one of the car halves fell over and made a loud metal thud. Looking over at the wreckage of metal, the child quickly realized that his pile of weapons had been crushed by the large half, most of the weapons breaking and/or shattering.

"GAAUGH?! MY STUFF!" The child cried out in distraught and ran over. The cloaked figure watched as he did so, a blank expression plastered across his robotic face.

He slid down on his knees and inspected the pile with worry, trying to salvage or save whatever he could. After a moment he yanked out three weapons that still seemed to be held together; the shadow blade, which was the black sword he found earlier, a golden kris knife, which despite being a knife was the size of his entire arm, and a cracked silver scimitar which had a red gemstone in its hilt and crude bandages over its grip. To say the boy was frustrated was an understatement.

"A child like you shouldn't be rummaging around for weapons." The figure turned around and faced the boy, who shot the figure a look of repulsion and anger.

"Likeme?" He growled, picking up the weapons and facing the stranger.

The quick shifts from admiration to distraught to what the stranger could only assume to be rage almost amazed him. The amount of anger behind his look belonged to no child, but could be mistaken for a kind of soldier or knight who had years of experience.

Despite this however, the swordsman couldn't help but raise a brow at the way the child was holding his weapons. "What are you doing?"

"Huh?" He asked, or tried to at least.

The boy had put the knife on his mouth and was dual wielding the giant weapons that were almost twice his size. Despite the aura the child gave off earlier, the way he wielded his weapons was most definitely child like.

"I got it from a book! It looks cool, and it works well!" He argued with a slight muffle in his voice.

"You look ridiculous and you're causing harm to your jaw, not to mention how filthy that dagger must be. If you're going to even attempt to face me then at least use something more sanitary."

"What, you afraid of three swords against your single sword?" The human spoke with a slight muffle in his words but sounded just as arrogant. "What, are you chicken? Bring it!"

With that said, he suddenly broke into a sprint and wildly charged at the cloaked swordsman. While the swordsman was initially stunned by the child's speed, the stranger responded by drawing his sword and holding it in front of him, as if he was actually preparing for an attack. With a final step towards the swordsman, the human lunged at him with all his might and slashed his two swords in an X shape, also using the knife in his mouth to support the blades.

However, with one swift parry, the boy's attack had been made a mockery of and he ended up tumbling backwards, his weapons scattering on the ground. "Ow...! Tch!"

After groaning from the counter and clicking his tongue, the boy picked up both the swords once more and began swinging at the stranger wildly. It had no form, no technique, just random flailing, making it incredibly easy for the swordsman to avoid and block. While it wasn't anything impressive, the swordsman's eyes slightly narrowed at the display.

"You have no clue what you're doing. Just stop." The machine clashed swords with the human once more and kicked his chest, flinging him back a good two meters.

"Child, I know not of your situation, but I suggest you stay far from this place. You have no reason to even be around such weapons."

The human stood upright once more and glared at his 'opponent' with a sort of rage that you would never find in a child. "...What do you know about my reasons?!" Even his voice was abnormally sharp for his age.

"What do you know about what it's like to be me?!"

He grabbed the cutlass once more with an iron grip.

"What do you know about being alone your entire life?!"

He took a step forward and posed, bending down but keeping his eyes locked on his target.

"WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT BEING TREATED LIKE SOME MONSTER?!"

With almost a split second of reaction time, the mechanical swordsman's eyes widened at the shocking speed of the boy's lunge and barely parried the incoming slash. The blades were grinding against each other, with neither side trying to back away. The swordsman recovered from his initial shock and then went to knock the child away with another kick, only to see said child sidestep and lunge at him once more.

It wasn't as fast as his initial charge, so the stranger could react to the attack better and dodge it. This went on for quite some time, with the human lunging and swinging at him wildly while the swordsman either parried or evaded. He was quite impressed with how physically strong the boy was, given that he didn't even look above 8. The only thing lacking in his ability is technique.

"You swing at me with the grace of an animal," the man said while leaping over an incoming slash. The human slid across the ground after he missed and swiftly turned to face the graceful swordsman. "You wield the sword as of it's your strength, but--"

"STOP TALKING!"

Despite the attempt to lecture him, the man simply shook his head at the child's behavior. He readied himself one last time as said child charged at him, who could only watch as the man practically disappeared from his sight and feel his sword suddenly shatter. A gust of wind followed by the clinking of shattered metal made the boy realize that he had lost.

As the man standing behind him sheathed his sword, he slowly turned around to face the defeated child. "Young man, why wield such weapons if you only crave violence? What is it that you seek from such actions?"

The boy was silent at first, the only thing he did was slowly turn around and glare at the man once more. However, instead of looking at the man with hatred, or even defeat, he had a look of what could be mistaken for admiration. "So that's what you did..."

As if something clicked in the child, his expression hastily shifted back to a sharp expression and he revealed the knife from earlier in his other hand.

"You know, I haven't really thought about it that much," the boy spoke referring to the other's questions. "I just do what I can to see the next day, and that usually involves trying to defend myself, and sometimes others."

The swordsman watched as the child attempted to mimic what he just did, almost impressed by how minuet the accuracy was. Despite this, he still had his guard lowered, thinking nothing of the pose. That technique took him days to train and even attempt to do, there was no way the child could do what he did.

While he was right, dammit was the kid close. As the human boy had lunged at the robot with identical movements, it was nothing but a cheap copy with the use of a dagger instead of a sword. The mechanical swordsman parried the attack and then kicked the human once again. Or so he wanted to.

Surprisingly enough, at the last moment the child threw the knife into the other hand and evaded the blade entirely, shocking the swordsman and leaving his back victim to the knife. Or at least it would've been if it wasn't a rusty knife that was on the verge of breaking. While the blade shattered, it did still hurt the man slightly, which was proven by the man suddenly grabbing the stunned boy and holding him against a wall of garbage.

The child was being held by the neck, so he struggled to even talk. "GAH! You... son of a...!" Despite this, he tried anyway.

He did everything he could, really. Thrash, kick, punch, but it became quite difficult to do so after just a few seconds of it. He opted to just grab the metal arm that held him and try to push him off, staring as the machine looked at him with a blank expression. It was surprising to see, but it really was a machine. Some kind of upside down gumball machine with a face and a slot in its forehead.

"You are quite persistent." The man coughed into his other hand, then looked back at the child. "The way you wield your weapons is barbaric, but even barbarians could use their weapons better. There is no resolve behind your actions, no reason, simply murderous intent."

The boy clicked his tongue at the words, but couldn't really reply at the moment. He didn't need to; since the more the machine spoke, the less coherent it sounded to the boy. He could feel his consciousness slipping away as his breathing became less and less fluid, almost regretting his actions up until now. How he even got there, how he defended himself, and how he even tried to stay alive in a world that wouldn't accept him. All because he was a--

"--Human, right?"

Said human coughed violently as he fell to the ground and quickly gasped for air. Turns out the robot really was saying something while he was too busy trying to repent. After rubbing his neck, the boy looked up at the mechanical swordsman and furrowed his brow. "Huh?"

"You're a human, yes? One of those 'monsters of war' or so I'm told." Despite the lack of a mocking tone, the boy flinched at the question and he glared at the man. "From what I've heard, your kind practically live in violence and war. It is in your very blood, correct?"

As the man continued to speak, the child began to remember things that others have told him about his people. Every time someone mentioned the word human, it would always be in a derogatory sense and always be treated with fear, whether it was to insult them or to scare others about them. He didn't know what the humans did to the people here, or what they did to each other in the past. Only rumors of war and bloodshed.

Noticing how unresponsive the boy was to his question, the robot hummed. "I shall take that as a yes. In which case, you and I are similar."

"...What?" The boy's eyes widened at the comment and shifted his gaze to the robot. "What do you mean we're similar?"

"That just as you have violence and war in your blood, I have in my programming. You see, my name is Rattleballs. I was once a part of an elite task force in the candy kingdom led by the princess, and our prime objective was to stop all kinds of crimes. One way or another."

The boy listened closely to the robot's tale, about how he and his kind were made by a princess who needed them to be the backup for the 'banana guards' or whatever he said. Turns out, just like him, his kind were deemed to be too violent for the citizens of the kingdom, and the princess terminated all of them. All except him, and that was only because of sheer willpower. After hearing that the machine was forced into hiding inside a trash yard for years, it only made the child angry.

"Why don't you get revenge?" He asked frustrated. "If this princess really just wanted you guys dead, don't you want to make her pay? don't you feel angry!?" He stood up and gave the robot a determined look, to which he responded with a look of grimace.

"Of course not. I was designed to follow her every command 100%." He replied, coughing into his hand once more. "Even now, I can still feel a part of me wishing to go back and let her finish me."

The child couldn't believe what he was hearing. Even after everything he just heard, the robot still couldn't go against his purpose. His design. Just like him. As the child began to hang his head, the robot spoke once more and said something almost revolutionary to the boy.

"But even if I did somehow break her command and try to get revenge, it would only be proving her right."

Upon hearing those words his eyes shot open and he looked back up to the robot, who was now facing away from the boy with his arms behind his back. "You and I were made for the sole purpose of violence, but we don't have to live that way." He turned back to face the child and held a look of pride in his eyes.

"What do you mean?" The child asked, tilting his head. Instead of answering though, the machine asked a question of his own.

"Tell me: what's your name?"

The human's brain almost flopped at the question. Throughout his entire life, or from what he could remember, no one really asked him for his name before. Usually they just called him freak, monster, brat, or something else he's never heard before. However since this was the case, he sort of forgot his name. Looking around the trash yard, he examined different pieces of garbage and repeated their names in his head; ball, metal, scrap, sword, knife, robot, fridge, paper, book-- wait, go back.

Fridge. It sounded like something he's heard before, but couldn't quite remember. It started with an F, he knew that, but other than that he couldn't think of much.

Rattleballs took notice of what the child was doing and hummed. So the kid didn't even know his own name? He may be either much younger than the machine initially believed to be, or much lonelier. Either way, it didn't matter right now.

"That's alright, you don't need to try and remember now." He said, looking away from the boy. "Human, you said you wield your weapon to defend yourself, yes?"

Blushing from embarrassment, the boy nodded. "Mostly, yeah... but I also want to use it to protect others, too..." the boy muttered, practically whispering the last part.

"Oh? And why do you wish to protect others?" Rattleballs questioned, raising a brow.

The boy looked up at the robot with a blank expression, thinking about the reason. "...To be perfectly honest... I don't know... I guess I just don't want others to go through what I've felt..." He said softly, looking down to his hand and thinking back to his experiences.

Rattleballs stared at the boy blankly before smiling. "That's good. Very well, I shall teach you how to use a sword properly."

"REALLY?!" The boy's timid and dull nature quickly turned into one of excitement. "That's awesome! A-are you sure?! I mean--"

"On two conditions." The boy's excitement subsided just as fast as it came. "The first is to make a vow to me."

The boy looked up at Rattleballs and raised a brow. A vow? Isn't that like one of those fancy promises that people swear to others and limit something? He didn't like the idea of being limited by something, but if it meant learning how to do cool sword techniques like that robot or guy from the book he read, it might just be worth it.

"What kind of vow?" The boy asked squinting his eyes.

"A vow to protect those who can't protect themselves," Rattleballs told the boy, "and to only use your blade against those who wish to harm others."

The boy froze for a moment before his mouth gaped. "That's it? I could totally do that!" He shouted with excitement before quickly recomposing himself and kneeling, blushing once more from embarrassment. "I-I mean, I humbly accept your conditions." Despite his best attempts to try and seem formal, he kept on fidgeting.

"Raise your head, I too am but a knight." And so the boy did, looking as giddy as ever. "Then it's settled, I shall take you on as my first ever apprentice. But before that..."

After coughing once more, the robot then sat down in front of the boy. "...could you perhaps help me with an issue? You see, when I was a young robot I went horseback riding and had an accident that caused one of my gum balls to be lodged out of place. I am unable to reach it, and with your tiny arms I believe you could potentially--"

"Say no more, sensei!"

"Don't call me that."

The boy then plunged an arm into the hole in the robot's forehead and began to move around in search of the gum ball. Despite the sounds Rattleballs made, the human did his best to ignore them and simply look. Eventually he found it and then proceeded to yank it with all his might, causing a loud groan from the machine and for the gum ball to hurtle out along with the boy. Rolling back, though, he found that the gum ball had completely shattered in his grasp.

Rattleballs chuckled at the sight and stood up. "Haha! Yes, thank you young man!" His voice sounded much better than before, which caused the human to smile.

"You're welcome!" For some reason, it made him all giddy to see that he actually helped someone else. "So, does this mean I get to learn cool sword techniques and get better?!" He couldn't help but yell towards the end, though it seemed Rattleballs didn't mind.

The machine went back to his stoic attitude and hummed. "Indeed. I will teach you to wield a sword without such finality, and perhaps grace."

"Awesome!" The human cheered.

After a few seconds however, he froze. The words of the machine began to repeat in his head. More specifically the finality part. Finality... fin... Finn...?

"Aha!" The child suddenly shouted, much to the swordsman's confusion. "Fin! That's my name! ...Or was it Finn? Eh, what's the difference." And so Fin or Finn, from that point forward, began his quest with the sword.