PROLOGUE

A deep thunder softly growls across the black-clouded sky of nightfall.  No rain.

Almost pitch black, the only other sound is a pair of footsteps that walk on the treaded dirt.  A few moments later, blue-white lightning flares up the clouds, and in turn, lights up the land.

Leather-clad mercenary soldiers lie on the ground, motionless and bloodless.  The ending result of a battlefield that happened at the front wooden gate of a farmhouse.

The lead mercenary is left on his knees, and the footsteps of the only one left standing march straight towards him.  The mercenary cannot grip his sword.  In his desperate struggle to regain his right arm's function, true fear begins to set in.  He is forced to switch to his left hand, raising his sword, pointed at the lean shadowy figure that walks up to him.

Thunder rolls by once again.

"Bastard."  The mercenary grunts out as he stands, trembling.  "Luck is the only thing that is on your side.  You have no idea what kind of enemy you're really making.  Killing me will not change a thing!  Do you even know who sent us here in the first place?!"

The shadowy figure halts his walking, ten paces between them both.  The dark of night can only illuminate so much.  The erratic winds pick up for a moment this battle having been just on the outer rim of a storm.  A coat, short-medium messy hair, and demonic-like horns, making for a frightening silhouette.

The mercenary has resorted to speaking rather than fighting.  "It's not just the city's Royals-- it's this entire Kingdom!  Are you even listening?!  Who the hell do you think you are?!!"

A second flash of lightning fills the clouds, revealing the menacing warrior that stands before the defeated mercenary.  A thin young man wearing a black mage coat, and over their face-- a porcelain demon-horned jester mask with black-hollow four-point stars for eyes and no mouth.  A mask that, in this world, holds the symbolic purpose to be worn by a specific type of criminal during their execution.  This dark individual is Reiji Ozeki.

Without words, Reiji brings his hands together.  Forming sparks between each of his connecting fingertips, he is able to create a highly-controlled lightning in a vibrant glowing pink hue.  Gradually pulling his hands apart, the lightning crackles and extends in a connected arc between his hands.

In a display of his power, the mercenary stands at the mercy of Reiji Ozeki.

For a singular moment, Reiji sees the stark difference between who he is now... and who he was only nine days before.