Please ignore the weak prose of the first chapter. [lowercase] is immature and incompetent, and is grossly misrepresenting the intents and focus of this Epic. I will try to correct this error.

In a realm far from your own, there was a town known as Billford. Billford was a small, quiet town where nothing much happened.

It was a summer day like any other. Children could be found out and about, enjoying the pleasant weather. People visited the beach, the mall, and a few other places, but there was one place where the vast majority of kids could be found: the Billford Community House.

This locally famous community center was filled to the brim with merrymaking children, and it is where we meet a Child named Criss.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Criss and his friends were playing a dancing game at the arcade. He had just finished acing his fifth level in a row, and others were beginning to gather around to watch.

Criss stepped off the platform to allow one of his friends to try. The crowd buzzed in anticipation as the next song loaded. The staff managing the security cameras must have sensed the building suspense, as they dimmed the lights in the arcade room.

The song began... and Criss's friend promptly began doing a floppy, ridiculous dance that was in no way related to the one on screen. Some in the crowd laughed, some grumbled, and Criss adjusted the black suit he was wearing, suddenly struck by a train of thought.

His friend's joke reminded Criss of himself, in a way. His father had always made it clear what he wanted out of his son, a certain mindset and persona that Criss hated. His father was a vile human being, by Criss's estimation, and he strived to fall as far from the tree as possible. His personailty, his brightly colored wardrobe, his words—all of these were chosen to defy his father's interests. His life, in a sense, was a silly dance meant to make fun of the example set for him.

Criss, in his melancholy pondering, fails to notice the ominous rumbling in the air until it turns into a fearsome roar. He–