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C7: Lite
Prologue: Cold Love from the winter streak

Prologue: Cold Love from the winter streak

I was there, people step upon and abouts, one of those magnificent creation of Cooperation, sitting beside time and wave it through, as if flowing on the pound river, I feel like withering everytime I see the sky, I can always hear that sounds of heaven always shining upon me

But Is something that I want to express, maybe I can see one of those people, at least I have him, always with me, always there for, and for what.

Why bother on and on, around me, sunken me all around, then again, protector of some sort, how I’m here at all, just by him?

The streets across the linear buildings, of stones and woods where stars lighted the pulmonic skies, streets filled with vendors and smokes to enjoy on the nightly fest.

Walking across the stone roads with many strangers, wearing coats and fur coated hats, around the cold old times, hair blossoms with lighted white hair that stream downwards toward her waist, with dirt and stains which have not glossed for much of time. With her, another figure she follows unto, every part of the festival, which the figure confronts the predicament for the situation of it. Coming close to her, still a ways young exploring the vast world of theirs with the figure in military coats, speaks commands for her, lowering to her heights.

"Anything in mind, do you want to get something?"

Even the eyes, shining turquoise hues brighten within, as though many stars shining inside. Seems void full and discouraged, with unmoving posture to find an answer within. The sounds of footsteps, the laugh with scream from the vendors, the smell of perfuming and delightful smell of foods, blurred into a chaotic null, nothing is comprehensive nor wanting to comprehend only the figure in front of her that still resembles a human.

"Something in mind, Laven?."

The blackout was cut by a response of his, her head tilt towards the stones, the sounds around tighten by the steps.

"No, sir.” I could not remember what had happened, all I can remember is the warmest memories that pierce my mind.

Walking around, with many stalls and views, cherry blossoms with many people's smiles, why don’t I smile in this wonderful time. By the sudden views, something sparks the mind of one self a pin of a man made worlds, a trophy of war, a teddy bear pin brown and polished even with many actions, it still held up as it was brightly new, with it he saw her eyes,

“Do you have anything in mind, now?” With his questions coming to her, her face, still stoic and unblessed, a light still shining in her eyes for the object of mankind with no words from her, she points to the item she was interested in a pin with a teddy bear print to it.

After that, all I can remember was how warm it was.

But as time goes by, things change as always, and it will always play that part.

Heavy breathing, impatient and dreaded, a panel made of crystal forms In Front of the thin air with scattered smoke across all lanes running on the fields the figure's relentless breath with the panting and heavy lack of oxygen. The crystal panel produces a sound caused by vibrations crystal all around.

"This is Colonel Vyik, 1st line of grip is lost, I'm requesting retreats to any personnel to regroup at 2nd line Fraser, copy all personnel of the 45th megalodon brigades! Request."

Walking the muddy lands, where battle gear plate armour and crossbows are at hand walks to the back fronts, walking with slow movement. The sky is dark with industrial smoke with craters across the fields where trees tremble and some fall other burns as if lightning of god struck the many acres of lands with the smoky mist covering the unknown ahead of everywhere. Just ahead, a man screaming within the trenches with many surrounding the trenches.

"Corporal! Over Here!!" Almost unseeable from the foggy distance she ran faster, with what little left for the fragile body. With the screaming continues, the sky start to cracks under immense speed of an object,striking the trenches ground, him ducking towards the dry grounds with the hell fire erupted from the speeded objects the screaming was turned into the cry of salvation of what's left of their minds a body as the flesh cracks and dry from the heat, other fly towards heaven dropping with no souls, the heads of a soldier, lying there rips within, burning magma attached to the skins, boiling every organ to a bubbly fathom of

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imagination of amalgamation.

The ripped half body drops metres from her, not working in the blood gushes like a fountain, before ending by the lacking pressure while the boiling blood still bubbles by the heats.

The person with a tangled mind of chaos, nothing feels real, nothing feels powerful everything is just another afterthought. All the cry dissolves into incoherent buzz as the blast- causes the ears to ring for heaven'sand only the hell was heard. Even with blood surrounding the being with even flood driving on the forehead of hers, the boiling magma within her, with the energy to run as fast as she could, moving beside the trenches of hell beside it. Looking towards the sky with crackling air as many explosions across the fields...

Entering the trenches has nothing to expend on the body, sudden drops of functional muscles, dropping into the trenches hitting his head on the support beam. Fussing outlook onto the sky's as suddenly many men come towards the trenches of his one flying figure, heavily armed, comes in the trenches, her sense of time disrupted with the herd moving thoughts lying around.

How much time have passed, how is he, maybe, he will be safe, maybe I could be of use to him,

I can hear the footsteps of the mud coming, I’m scared, I wish you were with me, Kyoroi..

Seven soldier look upon the trenches, shooting each of the plausible dead, each one, shot one by one, there gear is black with chestplate armour, while holding the rifle of mankind, the kalashnikov style weapon at hand, with one bullet piercing the head of them, as one last one.

Each shot rings my ears, while a puddle of mud scatters abroad. I can’t move, I can't think, I’m stuck, I’m scared.

What happened after then, I can’t remember, all that time in the trenches, I passed out and, everyday, it's always the same, all these marks on my body, stuck in an underground jail cell.

The usual master is gone, and now people wearing white clothing are all I see. I couldn't understand them, but they are always there with me, but now, I’m alone after all..

Where did he go?

Two Months later

A man was sitting inside a jail cells, the walls was concretes, lines of yellows that reaches across the areas, where lies ahead many rooms beyonds, a single beds and a bar on the rooms to keep the inside stays, looking down while in a yellow jumpsuits, the dirty floors that sucks in fresh airs to release smells of sweats that lingers, his sides has a patch of which his number appears, Zero, zero, four, written in white impact fonts in a black square patches. Holding his head while staying in the dirty abyssal, with a ceiling fan blowing towards him, the sounds of steps trickle down to the jail cells, the keys rub with each other, the sounds of metals grinding with the silent hallways.

The boots sound heavy and it’s not alone, as then, an armed guard appears, with a taser to the side, pepper spray and a pistol, ready to kill, looking down upon me. The guards looking inside the cells, lies a man with no destiny, there with two more guards comes to the cells, while him dwindling inside his imaginations. Guard stands firm and, with elegance and fashion, reads

“Mr Mikhail, please look up,” his voice stoic and calms, as mikhail silence, in trances by the grey floors with many little dots of imperfection

He says, in the same voice

“Your new name will be Lite gregory, keep it at that” with one of the guards opening the steal doors where a man was approaching to the guards, Lite looking slightly see a man in a white collars with the guards standby the man get inside the cells while two of the guards join on boards the other one sitting outsides the man wearing a suit for business, looking on him the material is elegances in quality on navy blue with the right fits. The man in suit walking up towards him the guards hostering their firearms ready for any alteration, the man approaches with a bag on the right hands, placing it on the dirty floor which cause debris to pollute some of the airs, as then, he squats down on the levels of Lites Lite looks back at his face, his eyes is bright in white with a tint of glow insides, Lite pupils dilated with in the darkness, heart, stretch to its limit, with the skin sweats across for more fluid with hair that is dark brown with a ponytail, his face is muscular and to well trains, with his physique fits for an athletes, he clear up his throat with gritty noise and says in a calm, kind voices.

“Lite, what did you encounter when you met the person in the Luhansk theatre?” with him, quietly waiting for a responds, But nothing appears

“ You found an anomaly, a person, who broke our laws, what do you think of that? Your squad”

Lite Looking upon him straights, his eye were dark browns and empty, his eyebags is big as his eyelids, tired and empty, his voice roughs yet stiff, with a words coming on his lips

“Fuck off..”

That’s all the heard of Lite, a word so short, his mouth moving erratically, shaking my own words. The man, see his responds, his eyes lowered towards the floors,

“We have an Offer for you. And it's a chance for another life.” The man speaks mildly with no intentions for provocative nor warm, as if water flows on the relaxing forest rivers. Lite, breathing flows with the rivers around him, the man speaks

“ If you don't wish to come, we can leave you be, you will be out in 12 years, of course, there is a caviare. You will be working with us, a new opportunity, so how will you choose?”

Lite feels uneasy, his throat now less dense than before and his palm sweats with his replies for help.

“ Yes.”

The man stood up, with his face now tilted smiles, as now, calm and numbness all over, the feeling of rivers devoid of thoughts, sleepiness is attracted by the situation. Oh, his arm is already at my neck.

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