In this world...

Is the destiny of man dictated by some transcendent entity or law...?

Is it like the hand of god hovering above...?

At least it is true, that man has had no control... even of his own will.

CLATTER-CLATTER-CLATTER!

The sound of wooden weapons clashing against one another echoed throughout the centre of a large, open park, the source coming from an assembly of young kids around 6 to 7 years of age. The park they were located in, resided within a small village, one located within the Indian Outskirts. There wasn't much to this village, as thanks to its geographical layout it made things quite difficult for the people to live there. The soil usually dried up too quickly for many crops to properly grow there, leading to occasional food shortages, forcing the village to turn to... other sources to obtain the goods that they need in order to stay functioning.

Despite this, the village made it though the years alright, by the skin of their teeth but alright nonetheless, though if there was one thing 'different' about this village... it would be a certain set of 'customs' they adhered to...

But back to the children.

These children had gathered around the park's centre, their numbers easily reaching about 40 kids. Furthermore, half of these kids looked to be wearing one kind of uniform, whilst the other half looked to wear another type which implied that this group of 40 children seemed to be made from multiple smaller groups.

One half wore fancy, well-kept kurtas and pants whilst having sandals over their feats, each of these being different in colour, with different patterns all to indicate how wealthy they were. Each of the children had dark, black hair and eyes, though in terms of body types, they looked fairly healthy... with a few large ones mixed in here and there. They looked like the type of children who would fit in quite well with the members of higher class society, having enough money to live comfortably for an entire lifetime... this feeling being further enhanced by two things: One, their expressions of varying levels of arrogance, smug pride, and sneers towards their opposition like they were looking at mere insects.

Two, their opposition.

The contrasts between these two couldn't have been more obvious, like the distance between the skies and the earth themselves. Whereas the former party seemed to dress like they were looking to impress, these children looked rather ugly in comparison.... Well, not ugly per say, but they did wear things like tattered clothing with tears, holes and stuff in them, showcasing their lack of wealth especially compared to the opposing group. They looked to be covered in dirt, mud and all sorts of different dirty things, yet they didn't look like they minded one bit, instead they were currently forming a semi-circle around a specific space, the other half doing the same whilst both seemed to be keeping their gases locked onto two people...Two very SPECIFIC individuals.

"Looks like the fights pretty even so far."

"I wager that the challenger won't last a few more strikes though."

"I'll match that wager, whoever loses has to add to the payment pouch."

"Fine."

Comments like these flowed through the rich kids' ranks, their snide and crude gazes leering at the fight like they were wanting it to be over already so they could go on with their days. To them, it seemed as though the fight itself had already been decided before it could be finished and were now betting on how long it would take before the fight did so... sure-fire signs of rich children with almost too much money to spend. A couple of them, likely the ones who had used their funds to 'hire' this lad for this little event, looked especially smug, absolute confidence shining from their beings in that their investment would end in their victory.

Meanwhile...

"Beat that guy up already!"

"C'mon, what's the hold up, can't you just finish this guy off?"

"We wanna be on time for curfew!"

Things weren't even nice on the opposite side, either. Various comments like these escaped the pompous, rich-looking children as they watched the two. Those individuals were the TRUE source of those wood clattering sounds, as they duked it out like rabid beasts against one another. One of them looked to be 3 to 4 years older than the rest, sporting a rather large wooden, spiked mace as he grinned sadistically at the other youth before him. "Heh, for someone of low birth to think they can best someone like myself... how laughable!" he proclaimed, howling as he swung his mace towards the other youth, intending to smack him upside the head and knock him out to claim the victory he craved.

As for the other youth...

"C'mon abnormal, get up!"

"You think things will get better without toughing it out?!"

"Stand up, stop making everyone look bad!"

Jeers and scornful remarks were slammed onto that youth's shoulders like many weights unceremoniously dropped, even as the young boy struggled to stay on his feet from a prior strike that he hadn't been able to block in time. The youth though, if one were to look at him then they would wonder how he even fit in with other children in India, since they all had black hair and eyes with slightly tanned skin due to the hot climate. Instead, this youth almost looked like a white sheep in a herd of black ones, with slightly paler-than-normal coloured skin, pure spiky white hair that fluttered about with his movements, and a pair of crimson coloured eyes (AN: Think of Ragna the Bloodedge's Hairstyle). His body looked to be covered with bruises and pieces of shrapnel from the wooden mace impaled his skin, not enough to draw blood though.

Even so, the boy showed little reaction to these taunts, his 6-year-old brain focusing solely on what he only needed to do: win, as he gave a hard stare at his foe. He stood on all fours first, then spat out some saliva mixed with some blood as he slowly got back into a hunched position whilst keeping a firm grip on his wooden sword... a weapon which, by the way, sported no small amount of cracks on its form due to the repeated clashes it had against its enemy. Yet, the boy didn't pay this much heed as he saw his opponent already rearing his wooden Mace for another strike, one which both of them knew... would be the last one. One more strike and this battle would be over, and the victor would be decided.

One...

strike....

In that case...

Increasing the grip on his sword and putting both hands on it, the boy leapt forwards towards his opponent, swinging his wooden weapon with all the might that he could muster. The older kid howled with laughter at this, thinking this to be a last-ditch attempt at scrambling some sort of victory, as he swung his Mace from his right hand horizontally to the left with full force. The two attacks neared each other at high speeds, with each second feeling like 10 and 10 seconds feeling like 100... time seemed to lose all its meaning, along with everything else between these two children as their weapons made to collide. Now, if these two weapons were indeed to have connected as everyone had believed they would, then not only would the sword lose against the Mace, but its fragile state would have resulted in it shattering and wounding its original wielder in the process.

That is, if it WERE to connect...

For just a couple seconds before they could touch, the white-haired youth pulled a fast one on the older lad, ducking down and siding across the other youth's exposed right side. This movement got pulled off quite quick for someone his age, as well as elected surprised looks from the surrounding children, though the richer looking ones also had slightly nervous looks gradually coming on since they saw where the white-haired youth had ended up: right behind the larger lad.

"You rely on your physical strength too much..."

Those words were all that the white-haired youth said, his voice low, soft and quiet as if he almost never used it, before swiftly swinging his sword onto the back of the larger boy's head, breaking his weapon completely in the process. However, he didn't care, for the damage had been done as he'd hit a certain section of the larger lad's neck, which caused the back of the lads' eyes to roll backwards as he fell to the ground with a THUD, letting a small tremor ripple through the ground.

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Silence dominated the park, thick and heavy like a mountain being dropped on top of it, as both groups stared in absolute befuddlement, their brains struggling to process what they had just seen. Before, things had looked like the rich kids selected fighter would have won this little slug fest they'd been challenged to, but the next thing they knew, it had all been turned upside down on their asses, and now they didn't know what to think anymore. Some of them had their mouths hanging open, none of them displaying their previous demeanours anymore as the white-haired youth trudged over to one of them, his expression sharp like a living blade. Holding out his hand, the boy spoke two words with enough strength in them to snap them out of their stupor.

"Pay up."

"Ah... R-Right..."

One of the children held out a small pouch towards the boy, the bag big enough to fit in his small hand if one were to try and gauge its size. Swiping it from the rich kid (earning him a yelp of surprise and a weak glare as a result), the youth looked inside and seemed to try and count the money, although in the end he stopped doing so with a huff and proceeded to head towards the Park's main entrance. The boy stopped at the entrance though, having reached for a sack which lay there next to a long metal blade, one shaped like a medieval longsword, and picked both up. He'd put the pouch inside the sack, shouldered it whilst grabbing the sword to sheathe it by his waist. He then proceeded to leave the park with a slight limp on his left foot, the other children wearing rags quickly leaving as well.

All in all... some 'unique' customs existed in this village alright.

Unbeknownst to the boy, a pair of eyes eyed his retreating self intently from atop a nearby rooftop, a pair of eyes that sported this sharp, almost bird-like, gaze. These eyes, they didn't even regard the other children as existences 'important' to them, instead they only glued themselves to the white-haired boy's frame. It almost felt like this person regarded nothing else about this park but him, as everything else seemed to be beneath his notice.

One could guess how... unnerving it would be to look into eyes like these, as it felt as though eyes like these were supposed to be aimed at prey, not actual human beings.

Furthermore, what their owner thought about the boy, couldn't be told thanks to a great poker face the eyes' owner had, but whether or not that would change would remain to be seen.

After the whole incident, the boy could be seen walking down a rather long, dirty side street, intending to take a longer path back to home so the other kids could be there first. Hisses escaped him on occasion whilst he held his right arm with his left hand, the injuries he'd sustained during that fight being more so than he had first thought. The fight itself hadn't been easy, nor did he have very much experience fighting against foes like that, if his foe had been even a tiny bit faster than him, the boy doubted he would have been able to survive that last hit. Well, not like many would give a damn if he really DID die, lets not mince facts here, just thinking about what the other kids had been saying to him caused him to sport twitching eyebrows whilst he barely held in his anger.

He didn't want to have to deal with them any longer than necessary, and in with the current path he walked, he could at least have some time to himself before he were to get lectured by the caretakers at the orphanage once again, something which had been WAY too common in his life. One thing which the boy took solace in however, was the soft clinking of the longsword strapped to his back, the cool feeling of its metal providing some manner of comfort... although he could safely say that it was more than that. The feeling of a weapon, something that was meant for taking lives, it relieved him. Before having received it from the caretakers, he had only made do with wooden weapons, and those usually weren't enough to deter thieves wanting to steal his earnings for the day, but now? With the sight of an actual weapon encounters like that dropped, even if the boy still barely held any semblance of ability to use the sword. The sword's presence, therefore made the sharp spikes of pain which wracked his body thanks to the injuries he'd sustained all the more bearable, even when he reached over and picked the wooden shrapnel pieces out of his body resulting in even more slight hisses of pain escaping his lips.

"You finished your earnings for the day too, Shiro?"

All of a sudden, a soft, feminine voice broke the boy, also known as Shiro as she called him, from his thoughts. His eyes glanced upwards whilst widening in slight surprise, although they soon returned to his default blank gaze as his eyes fell onto the speaker. The speaker turned out to be a young girl, about 2 years older than him since she was 8 years old, and she sat on a small barrel having seemingly been waiting for him. The young girl looked like, once she grew older, she would eventually become an outstanding beauty who could have men wrapped around her finger with such ease that it would be almost unfair. Her skin, slightly tanned, glistened in the sunlight whilst her black, long hair fell to her shoulders in length, although the boy had once heard that she wanted to grow it to her waist when she was older. And her matching eyes bore into his own with a knowing look to them. Her clothes, much like his own, looked to be quite tattered and rag-like, showing signs of coming apart at the seams, yet also showing signs of maintenance that hinted at this girl's nimbleness with her hands.

Upon seeing her, his blank gaze maintained itself for a few moments... before it broke down and a slightly more relaxed, soft one took its place, a small smile tugging at his lips at the sight of her. "Yeah... I'm done for the day... Brihanna..." he replied, sighing as he stepped forward again, this time hitting a rather aggravating injury to his foot that caused him to wince sharply. Just as he almost tripped over and would have dropped his stuff, the girl suddenly dashed forwards and caught him, grasping him gently by his shoulders to help him steady himself again.

Her gaze fell on the various injuries, and when she did so, her eyes darkened as she almost bit out the following words like they were the venom of a snake. "You took part in multiple outs again, didn't you?" she questioned, although her tone made it seem more like a statement as she hoisted an arm over his shoulder and helped him along the street. At first Shiro had tried to resist, but his body (and the 'don't stop this' look she gave him) eventually won over and he ceased such futile attempts. After a few moments of silence, Brihanna shook her head in dismay, though Shiro already had an idea as to what would be coming out of her mouth, so he opted to try and interrupt her but a hard stare from the girl showed him why that would be a bad idea. "I know I cannot stop you from engaging in such recklessness, its within your nature and all." She stated, of which the white-haired boy gave no rebuttal since she wasn't exactly wrong after all. "But you don't have to keep pushing yourself to earn extra today. I swear, you and that big lug-head are exactly the same, why is it that the guys I know are such stubborn idiots who don't take their lives so seriously?"

'... So neither of us have told her, then...' the boy realized to himself upon hearing her words, his head hanging low whilst his expression remained serious, resulting in Brihanna being none the wiser to his internal monologue. He would have thought that the eldest of their little trio, Jamal, would have told her about their recent decision, but it seemed that judging by those words he just heard right now Brihanna apparently still remained in the dark. '...Perhaps that's why big bro arranged for use to meet at THAT place once we've divided up our earnings.' Pushing those thoughts aside for the moment, and to make sure to not let his companion know what he was thinking, Shiro lifted his head a little to gaze with his left eye into her own two ones. "You get us guys so well..." he commented dryly, the left corner of his lips twitching slightly. "But then again you have to admit, out of the three of us, I'm the least problematic."

For a moment, Brihanna remained silent... till she looked at the ground in weariness. "That's way too true..."

A while later, the two kids arrived at their destination: a barren-looking, wooden Orphanage which looked like it could fall over at any second. Cracked windows with some having varying sized holes in them, planks looking like they're about to snap, the works. Furthermore, the rooftop had holes in it here and there, which had made some of the children dislike things like the rain, sleet and snow since they'd keep getting soaked in their sleep, forcing them to relocate to somewhere which didn't have those holes... not very good places, by the way.

One could hear merry sounds of those children within though, sounds which came from the children inside as they went about their business. A few still remained outside to play, though Brihanna and Shiro kept clear of them as they walked along the marked pathway towards its front entrance.

"...Hey, Shiro...?"

"Hm...?"

"Do you think that... this life is unfair?"

"Of course, but then again its cruel to anyone the first chance it gets..."

This wasn't the first time Brihanna had asked that question, but every time she did so it didn't lessen the effect it had on him. After all, Shiro could count on one hand who gave a crap about him, and she had been one of them, thus he had learned through some deductions on his part that seeing him like this really didn't sit well with her. Since they were young... or rather younger, the two of them had always been quite close, practically inseparable, though if anyone were to ask why they wouldn't be able to offer any concrete answer. The two just... clicked together, although in the beginning things had been a little... rocky, especially with how Shiro had been rather cautious around her, looking for any signs of deception whenever she had been around him. Of course he didn't do that anymore, but he remained aware that her presence around him often caused the other kids to bully him even more intensely than they usually did... something which he suspected had more to do with their desire to be close to this girl who never gave them the time of day than their dislike for him based off how he looked. Shiro wasn't an idiot after all, he knew for a FACT that he looked... different compared to the kids at the orphanage.

Even so however, he didn't exactly have much of a better choice than this, especially with what he and the sole other person whom they held a close bond, almost a brotherhood, with had recently decided to do. Not only that, but Shiro wasn't a fool, nor was he naive like many children his age were, he didn't let some pointless hope blind him to the necessity of his current reality. This village could be considered one of the more... cruel ones, especially with the traditions that they practiced, traditions which according to some rumours he'd overheard from the adults in the Orphanage, only started in the last 100 years.

It involved a means to managed the Village's population since, thanks to their desire to have lasting families, people tend to give birth to lots of children at once, more so than what the village could sustain or so he'd heard. The tradition was that certain Orphanages be prioritized over others, and those that were chosen would have sufficient support from the Village to operate at maximum efficiency. However, for the not so fortunate ones, they would be left to only defend for themselves, with barely any kind of financial support, and it wasn't like they could just move to those more fortunate Orphanages either, since there wouldn't be enough job vacations, according to the adults. Shiro didn't understand a lot of it, but that had been what he'd heard.

However, there was a way for an Orphanage like the one he stayed in, one of the lesser ones, to earn money and increase their standing amongst the others, and that turned out to be these 'turf battles' as they were coined by the staff members. These Turf battles, which had originated 100 years ago when the village, at the brink of collapse, had reached out to some... less than official sources, involved the children selecting a representative, and then have them duke it out for a specified amount of money. The amount varies depending on how much of a threat to one's life there was, as the more money one wanted to make, the greater the threat is to their life. For example, in Shiro's case. The threat levels he usually went with were the medium ones, which involved the use of wooden weaponry which, whilst not as threatening as something like a REAL weapon, could still do plenty of damage if they managed to aggravate previous wounds. Low threat levels would be just through the use of fists to fight, but the money earned through this means was barely anything at all, so very few people actually supported it.

Therefore, no matter how many times she would ask him that same question, his response would always be the same, and she knew this. Still, she kept asking anyways, though it never really annoyed him or anything, it came from one of the few people who gave a damn about him after all. He also understood the true reason why she asked him this same question, as a means of coping with their twisted situation... fighting battles for a cause nobody believed in? Potentially getting killed off for reasons they didn't understand? Yeah, Shiro may be young, but it hadn't taken him a long time for him to understand that this life wasn't something that just anyone lived.

SCREEEEEE!

Just as the two of them made it to the door to push it open, someone seemed to have beaten the two children to it apparently, as the door got pulled open to reveal someone on the other side. For a brief second, Shiro tensed within his friend's embrace, already intent on initiating some hostile action in case it were one of the children who despised him for his appearance. He wasn't wrong to be cautious either, since they often tried pulling pranks on him to ridicule him for said appearance... though these thoughts soon vanished from his mind when he saw a bright grin on the person's familiar face.

"Yo, Shiro! Back from your adventuring, I see?! Heh, you look like you got put through the wringer this time!"

Boldly declaring that with a voice so passionate that it resembled a bonfire, a boy 4 years his senior stood before the two grinning like a loon whilst Brihanna rolled her eyes and allowed Shiro to stand on his own. Mostly since he couldn't stand anyone helping him when this guy was around, since he would make sure to tease the hell out of him for some reason... interestingly enough it happened especially often whenever he had been around Brihanna. In any case, the boy had the standard looks of an Asian-descent person, with his short black hair styed in messy spikes, black eyes and a light tan on his skin, whilst his attire consisted of some tattered shirt/short combo which exposed the scar-ridden legs and arms he sported.

"Jamal..."

Shiro greeted the older boy with a slight smile on his lips, one eye closed whilst he stood straight despite his injured person. With their lack of medical supplies, and this Orphanage having a rather bad infirmary, there wasn't really much point in getting them treated. Not to mention that, one other abnormality about him was that his body had a... slightly above average healing ability, one which he believed got developed over time due to needing to constantly recover from dangerous fights. Essentially, he was made from some tough stuff as Shiro stood tall before his friend.

Said friend quickly pulled him inside with Brihanna following suit. "Heh, man don't you look like a wreck! C'mon, we'll get you to our room, I managed to scrounge up some bandages, you may heal weird, but you should still have something help keep your wounds from getting infected." Jamal stated as he took Shiro inside, not noticing the watchful eyes of a shadowy figure from behind a nearby corner.

"Tch... grr...!"

"No whining now, ya big baby! Its your own fault for taking all these hits."

"But this isn't much compared to what YOU were like a couple days ago, Jamal?"

"Ah, r-right, that correct I-I guess, hahahaha..."

"#Stare#"

Later, the three kids found themselves in the bedroom the trio shared, something that was only possible due to the orphanage's expenses making it nigh impossible for each child to have their own room. Hence, some kids had to bunk together, sleeping on these thin sheets of straw with only the clothes on their backs to serve as bed covers. Right now, however, Jamal seemed to be laughing awkwardly whilst trying to treat Shiro's injuries by wrapping bandages around the many cuts over his body. Well, some of them didn't look too bad, and whilst they did have a limited number of bandages the guy's body would make it so that by the time the next morning arrived the wounds would be pretty much good as gone.

Didn't mean that the older lad had the same benefits for whenever HE pushed himself too much, though.

"Say, Jamal..." Shiro began, getting an acknowledging hum from the guy as he wrapped the last of the bandages around his wounds. "Why haven't you told Brihanna about it yet? The reason why we push ourselves to earn as much as possible..."

"Ah... I thought I had..." The older boy replied, blinking owlishly as he thought back, realizing that Shiro indeed had a point. It didn't help that Brihanna was casting them suspicious gazes, like she were suspecting them of going into criminal activities... well, according to a few travelling merchants they'd occasionally see pass by, it would seem that some of their 'traditions' could be seen as such. "Huh... well damn, I guess we didn't, then... sorry 'bout that Bri." He then spoke apologetically to her whilst rubbing the back of his head in a sheepish manner. "Didn't mean to exclude you from this, I genuinely thought you knew."

Hearing this, Brihanna raised a brow as she crossed over her chest, looking mighty impatient. "Then could you PLEASE tell me what's gotten into you two? I mean, its been like this for the last few days, but you two have been rapidly dwindling our medical supplies whenever you all try to 'work', even though you try to shrug them off and say that other kids need them more!" she bellowed, her cheeks flushed and her eyes brimming with the frustration she felt inside. It wasn't wrong of her to think this way either, since she had been enduring the sight of the sole two friends she had in this crappy orphanage returning from long trips away from the Orphanage, of which she would always get these nasty looks aimed at her (especially from the older male and even a few female kids) until the boys returned looking like soldiers recently returning from a vicious, bloody battle. Ironically, whilst Shiro seemed to have the more injuries of the two, it would seem that Jamal actually won out in the exhaustion category since, not long after they would return, he would conk out like a drunkard finally unable to handle being awake any longer.

Not a state that anyone wanted to see their friends in, let's be frank here.

"Well, you see the truth is..."

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"... Haaah?! You guys have GOT to be pulling my leg here!" For a moment, Brihanna had been listening quietly and intently to Jamal when he had begun telling her of their ultimate goal, their reason for Shiro and him going so far as to get into the Turf Battles that they did. Whilst he had spoken with Shiro sitting off to the side with his eyes closed, her expression remained the same so her emotions remained unknown to the two boys... well, at least on the surface if anyone looked at this from an outside perspective, meanwhile both Jamal and Shiro had figured since the beginning what her reaction would be in the end. Their assumptions turned out to be the right ones too as, by the end of the oldest boy's speech ended, she couldn't contain her feelings any longer and had questioned their very sanity with her loud yet hushed response. "You guys REALLY intend to go that far?! Building yourselves a home closer to one of THOSE places?! For ALL of us?!"

Rubbing the back of his head again with a grin that pretty much screamed 'what can you do?' whilst Shiro rolled his eyes, Jamal chuckled sheepishly. "Yeah, I get what you mean by that, it does sound insane, especially for a bunch of nobodies like us..." The bod admitted to himself, something which Shiro could agree with wholeheartedly, especially since Brihanna's words had been quite similar to what he had once responded upon finding out himself. However, the oldest of the trio wasn't done there as his features shifted to a more serious, sombre kind of expression. "Though if I'm honest, its more my idea than Shiro's, I just asked him to help me out, God knows how many times I had to convince him due to that stubborn notion of his that people'll never accept him. Me on the other hand, I figured if he contributed as one of the founders of the new Orphanage people wouldn't look down on him so much." He explained, or rather tried to as Brihanna had already gotten up in his face, both literally and figuratively.

It had been based off his own understanding of the nature behind the Children in this darn Orphanage, that had been why Shiro had been against this whole idea in the first place, especially initially. After all, he wasn't someone whom had been well liked due to his appearance, often gifted with the splendid names of 'ugly', 'abnormal', and 'freak' since the first few memories he could recall along with various forms of physical abuse (such as physical beatings which he had recently started fighting back in, pranks such as replacing some of his foods with... less than savoury things like bugs and rats among others), it had been clear to him that nobody would bat an eyelash (save for these two) if he just up and vanished one day. That had been the point that Shiro had argued with Jamal on since the founding of this little 'dream' the guy had.

But, in the end, something said by his sole guy friend stopped his resistance cold.

Something which Jamal then began to speak with Brihanna about as he leaned backwards with his back pressing against a wall. "Brihanna... aren't you tired? Of living like this?" he asked her, and before she could respond he simply continued on. "I sure as hell am. I'm sick and tired of living like this, like we're nothing but mangy rats desperately stepping on one another for scraps of food. But, unlike the rest of these sheep that don't plan on doing anything to change this, I will do something about it. I'll make my own Orphanage, one which will surpass all the others in financial support even if I suck at numbers and all that shit. I don't care personally about making any more friends than you two, but I'll make damn sure that my bro gets a chance to have friends by the time he reaches adulthood, I'll make it a certainty that they'll respect him and give him the treatment he deserves instead of this shit. You could call that my [Dream], something I'll stake my very LIFE on." He proclaimed, reaching towards one of the room's wooden planks and lifting it upwards, putting it aside and pulling out something from beneath... a sword, or rather a Scimitar one that he pointed forwards at the two of them.

Seeing this gaze, Brihanna stared with slightly widened eyes, her face that of complete disbelief... until she finally let out a resigned sigh as she went to the opposite side of the room. There, she did something similar to what Jamal had done with one of the planks and pulled out a small Shortbow, holding it in her right hand as she re-joined them. "Well, considering how stubborn you two are there's likely no chance of me convincing you all otherwise... plus life at this Orphanage is kinda crappy anyways so I'll help out where I can, and you both can't stop me." She declared, not like the two boys had any intention of stopping her in the first place.

"Wouldn't dream of it, we know what happens to those who tried to boss you around, remember that Billy character?"

"Hm? Whose that?"

"Oh, you don't recall? Well, wasn't he...?"

"I don't know a 'Billy' but I DO remember a piece of garbage who tried to mug from me and said that whatever was mine was his like any other's, so I simply took what he thought important from him in return."

"... Jamal? Women can be scary."

"Important life lesson, Shiro: Women can be scarier than life itself."

"... Noted."

Thus, night fell upon the town, as one ordinary day signalled the beginning... of CHANGE.

Chapter end

READ THIS FIRST

Hello everyone my name is Darklord331 and this is my third attempt to make a story, I had troubles with making one which is my Theseus one, so I asked King carlos for help and he decided to lead me to a writer named HunterxKiller87, we brainstormed some ideas and came up with this type of story called Frenzy: DxD style, its a berserk inspired story that we've come up with a realistic fanfic that we created, we are still thinking for some more ideas so we will not update more frequently and you will know why when you read this in the bottom. So most of the credit belongs to my writer HunterxKiller87 be sure to check out his story called One eyed G Re:birth or for short OEG, Thank you everyone for reading this story.

Be sure to leave a review and I'll see you guys later BYE!

Hello, hunter Here. This is my first attempt at a Fate/DxD crossover...although it might be more of a cross between DxD and a Different anime series the more chapters that come out. Updates will not be frequent since this is the first time I'm doing this, but I hope you all enjoyed what I've wrote. This one is going to take place before canon, as will several arcs that will eventually tie into the main story. I just have to set things up here, but if you want to thank anyone thank Darklord331 since we've been gauging various ideas for it. Hope you all like this and look forward to more chaps.

Peace Out!