"I, the chronicler of this story, will grant you a great privilege of seeing the past. Allow me to dial back the clock, to when heroes still roamed and demons still wreaked havoc. This was not too long ago, for it happened a few years in the past."

Signed: Secret Memories

***

The Supreme Commander was a man atop of Branch's military strength, he was a man who neither inherited the title nor was elected for it by the majority—he was a man chosen by the sword.  Excalibur was a special weapon made by the first Arthur and the last king of Branch before it became a republic. Excalibur, as a weapon, had been programmed to choose its wielder by a criteria still baffling scholars and scientists today. Nevertheless, what is certain, was that whoever got chosen would be renowned as the strongest. Arthur Pendragon II, previously known as Peter Ankerwal, had been the third generation of Arthur for more than two decades. He had two sons: the eldest being a very fragile and gentle child whom he named Feather—to accentuate the fact of his gentleness and his hidden strength.  The other one was rough as though he were born for fighting; at an early age he already had awakened his aether manipulation abilities and could activate circuits at a level 4 power; Arthur named him Sun. In contrast, Feather hadn't shown any signs of awakening until the age of ten, but only awakened to a level 2 power—such awakening wasn't unprecedented, only, that it was disappointing to some, seeing that his father had an irregularly huge amount of power. Feather probably took from his mother's side and Sun from his father.  Nonetheless, Arthur, who was in fact a loving and kindhearted man despite looking aggressive and ruthless, loved both of them the same.

Their mother was a wealthy but sickly woman, who eventually died because of her weak immune system. The day she died she left two things for each her son. One was a crystal feather for the boy Sun and a sun-crystal for the boy Feather.

"Remember you two," she said to them, coughing. "Whenever you look at your crystal, never forget your brotherhood." The next moment, she drew her last breath.

Sun and Feather, aside from being brothers, were the best of friends. Sun admired his brother's gentle strength, who, whenever he got hurt from his adventurous displays, would come to him and readily console him. Feather would help clean a wound, would embrace him and the like, before telling their kind mother what had happened.

On the other hand, to Feather, Sun's personality and his characteristic were exploding in beautiful hues of colors.  He could never find a dull day with him around; thus, Feather had always admired Sun's energy.

On the day they were to go to high school (Sun skipped grades because he was marked as a once-in-a-century genius among his peers), Sun was personally recruited to join an elite academy for talented folks in the field of circuit techniques—in other words, it was a school that taught students how to fight using circuits; that means they were being trained to be soldiers. Nonetheless, it wasn't mandatory, so after graduation, one could still use what one had learned to pursue other fields in college.

As for Feather, he entered a public school and decided to focus on his academics. He dreamt of one day becoming a circuit engineer, which was a viable path for someone like him with lower-than-average power. However, on the day of his entrance ceremony, at the age of twelve, Feather got kidnapped. The kidnappers left no clues, and they didn't ask for a ransom from the family so tracing them was difficult. The police however, succeeded in tracing their tracks and found their hideout only to hear from the suspects that Feather was no more—killed, and had his corpse thrown to the river.  The reason why they killed him was because they couldn't find any use of him since his level was too low. It turned out that they were a gang of criminals who stole promising children and sold them at a hefty price to organizations that secretly cultivated their own private army.

Sun's attitude changed after hearing the news, he suddenly became distant, as though he hid his true self under a sea of fake smiles; smiles that were forced out in order to hide the chaos within his heart, a chaos brought about by the loss of his beloved brother.

Similarly, although his reaction was more open, Arthur was enraged; thus, he immediately mobilized the Republic's army to wage war on these organizations.  These organizations successfully hid their presence from the government through bribes, threats and schemes; the only mistake they had made, was to kidnap the son of the Supreme Commander, who, by all means, couldn't be bribed, threatened, nor schemed against. The truth was out; now, Arthur merely had to raise his fist.

It took only a month before all the organizations got crushed; those that survived, however, surrendered themselves to the government, except one—those who called themselves the dark organization.  Arthur would continue fighting them for five years in a row, without stopping.  Within those five years, sudden revelations were uncovered. It turned out that the dark organization constituted of people from both Branch and Cloud. They were, nevertheless, enemies who had promised a truce for one common goal—destroying the peace between the two countries.

The war dragged on until one unexpected day. Arthur went home bearing a peculiar news to Sun.

"Your brother might be alive," was what he said. "I'm heading off tomorrow to see if it's true."

Sun was shocked off of his tongue that he couldn't speak a word. His brother, alive? Something like that could only happen in fantasy stories, could it really happen in real life too? On hearing that, a hint of smile formed on Sun's face, one that was real. Immediately, he went to train himself enthusiastically,

The next day Arthur went to the battlefield, and there he saw, fighting alongside him, the person whom he suspected was his son. Yet, strangely, his gentleness had translated to gentle fierceness in battle. They fought alongside many people until they faced the dark lord.  The man was a strong technique practitioner and could be said to be on par with Arthur. They fought for seven days and seven nights.

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On the penultimate day, Arthur realized that their enemy was even stronger than him; for even though he had the back-up of the boy he suspected to be his son, he still couldn't win. On the decisive last day, he got severely wounded by a strike.  However, before Arthur got minced to pieces, the boy, backing him up, deftly rescued him from his foe. The boy then carried Arthur on his back as he went for the escape.  Many died that day; out of a hundred people who fought, only the two of them were left.

The boy placed him on a patch of grass and tried to dress his wounds by a piece of cloth but Arthur knew for certain he was about to die, so he pushed the boy's hands away. He had decided to ask for the truth before he drew his last breath; thus, he looked the boy in the eye.

"Are you my son?" he asked, crying silently.

"Yes," nodded the boy somberly. "Forgive me father, I have been late. You see, I suffered amnesia for quite some time, but fighting with you in battle for days have jogged some bits of my memories."

"I see," said Arthur, now crying violently. He held the boy's cheek. "You're twenty now right? You've become such a splendid man."

Arthur then took something from his pocket and gave it to the boy, saying, "Take this and show it to your brother."

After that, he died. The sword sheathed to his waist suddenly glowed and flew away to the skies, looking for its new master.  In an unprecedented occasion, it chose Sun, a descendant of the now dead Arthur Pendragon II. For the first time, the sword had chosen someone of the same lineage of the previous Arthur.

The sword flew at lightning speed and then stuck itself on the ground before Sun during his training. The moment it happened, Sun knelt down and tears flocked out of his eyes. He spread his arms wide and looked up to the sky with a wail.

"YOU!" he angrily screamed, referring to the dark organization. "You've taken my brother from me and now my father—"

He stood up and held the hilt of the sword. "I'm going to make you all pay," he said, pulling the sword from the ground. The moment he pulled it, it glowed in an uncannily beautiful fashion, engulfing his whole body in a golden hue.

Excalibur was a strange weapon; for unlike the modern weapons used by soldiers, which were engraved with circuits to work, Excalibur had no circuits imbedded on its frame. This was because the sword itself was a single circuit, which had one purpose: to give its wielder extraordinary strength. This, when used together with unarmed techniques, became a formidable weapon. However, only an irregular could use it, and not just any irregular, it had to be someone whom the sword had chosen to be its master.

Time had passed since that day, and eight years later, we find ourselves with Arthur Pendragon III, who was bent on destroying the remnants of the dark organization that had survived 'till this day, and Aisha Flores—highly sought after by the organization—talking together in front of Arthur Pendragon II's grave.

***

"So that's what happened?" said Aisha in a melancholic tone. "I never knew the dark organization had so much power."

Arthur clenched his fist tightly, "And what's more," he uttered, "they're still alive. I'm going to crush them, even if it takes me years, I will do so."

Aisha looked down somberly and said nothing. The next instant, Arthur stood up, gracefully wiping the tears off his eyes and cheeks.

"Let's go," he said, walking forward, "we've made them wait for too long. Anyway, as I've said stay away from that Razor Blade."

"Why are you so hung up on that?"

"Because I have sources telling me that he's working for someone as a double agent; I suspect he works for the organization. In any case, just be aware of that information."

Before Arthur could continue on his tracks a hand stopped him by the hem of his suit. He sent a side-long glance to Aisha who held him strongly.

"Please I beg you—" she pleaded with her voice slightly vibrating in frustration. "After hearing your story I know somewhere deep within, you're a kindhearted man, so please don't involve Arthur Crane in this."

Arthur pulled his clothes from Aisha's grip and fiercely looked at her.

"That can't do," he retorted. "You may think I have no basis but I have found evidence connecting that man to the organization."

Aisha's expression froze upon hearing Arthur's response. 'Him? Connected—?' she thought, 'that can't be, right?'

***

At the southern foot of the mountain two figures had just come down from a flying omnibus and began trekking up the mountain slope. The figures were apparently Maya and Arthur. Maya had changed to a civilian attire (a blue T-shirt with loose-fitting jeans); although at first she hesitated to reveal her face to Arthur but she eventually yielded as her get-up could catch people's attention during broad daylight.

Maya had long and black, silky hair that reached to her chest. Her eyes were blue and her skin was so very fair. Her eyebrows were thin and her lips were a shiny red.  Her face was devoid of wrinkles and indicated her young age, yet, to Arthur's surprise, she was, in fact, the same age as him.  All in all, Maya was a very beautiful woman.

Arthur himself did not lack in good looks. His tanned skin complimented well his charcoal black eyes and golden hair. His jaw-lines were perfectly cut to produce a manly impression. However, his face had such an enigma that at first glance, it looked so amiable like the fluffy clouds.  Had the two of them met that day, perhaps things would have been different. However, life isn't that simple, not dwelling on what could have been and pursuing what is, are qualities befitting a mature man. Arthur himself believed it was important to dwell on the present rather than the past; in his case, his present was his love for Aisha.

"What are we doing here anyway?" complained Maya, tired of all the trekking. "I'd rather conserve my strength than to waste it on this escapade."

"Don't you understand?" Lectured Arthur, looking back at the struggling Maya. "There's something I need to retrieve at the top, if I am to get out of this alive."

Arthur noticed that without using her techniques, Maya seemed to have a weak body. "By the way," added Arthur. "I thought in order to practice techniques the basis for it—namely, the body—needs to be strong, and yet why are you so weak?"

"It's because The Art of the Forest focuses more on meditation and manipulation of aether. If one has mastered manipulation, then even if you've just learned the martial arts without strengthening one's body, you can use bodily enhancement as the basis for the technique. Thus, you can, more or less fight on even terms against those who train the opposite."

"I see—" Arthur nodded, "mental imaging through meditation rather than actual practice can also help in aether manipulation. Meh, for my case I've long mastered manipulation. By the time I developed my all-seeing-eyes I was already a pro at it. My only weakness is I can't go beyond bodily enhancement."

"Wow, someone's surprisingly a brag."

"I'm just trying to lighten up you know. Do you have to take it seriously? But it's true though—"

Arthur and Maya stopped, because they sensed something peculiar up ahead.