Grasslands and rolling hills were all that anyone could see for miles upon miles. Buffalo, goats, and various other grazing animals were in a state of peace, enjoying their meals and basking in the sun's warm rays, obscured by only the occasional white cloud. As the animals went about their relatively peaceful day, their ears and heads perked up when a whirring and chopping noise began growing closer. Before the source of the sound could come into sight, all the critters fled in fear.

  Flying above the now-empty grasslands was a massive zeppelin with a large transport hold connected to its bottom. The vehicle was constructed with multiple propellers attached to its back with metal bars and latches that looked as if they were ready to collapse in on themselves at a moment's notice. Despite this, the added propellers allowed the vessel to fly faster than one would think possible for something of its size.

  On the second-lowest level of the airship was a dining room of hardly passable quality. The room was sparsely decorated and upkept. The walls and ceiling were made of solid metal. No bolts held the surfaces together, as they were fused with each other by unidentifiable means. The floor did have soft but worn-out carpeting covering its otherwise metal ground, preventing it from being too uncomfortable for the passengers. Lining the walls were star-shaped lightbulbs protected by metal cages with small, interlocking bars. Placed in the center of the room were long metal tables with wooden chairs that seemed acceptably comfortable. The tables were garnished with plenty of food. The assortment of meats, fruits, and vegetables kept its consumers' voracious hands satiated, those consumers being eight-year-old children. This room was filled with just over one hundred of these kids. All of them were passing the time by eating the plentiful food and playing with each other.

  The lone adult in the room was a man with a clipboard leaning against a wall right of the room's only door. This man was their Watcher. He was muscular and stood a bit on the taller side, had fiery-orange hair and ashy-grey eyes. He kept these eyes on all the children, referencing their profiles on his clipboard as he made sure the ones who were roughhousing didn't take it too far. Whenever one of the kids came near the door, the Watcher would stomp his foot hard enough to dent the metal floor and glare at them until they stepped back.

  Different groups had formed throughout this dining room, the only exception being a boy with long red hair sitting by himself in a corner. The largest group had gathered up dozens of the room's chairs and tablecloths and constructed a makeshift fort out of them. Sitting at the top of the fort was an unusually large, bald boy with bronze skin and a pair of golden bull horns just above his ears. The other children playing on the fort were clearly treating the horned boy as their leader. One girl with green hair grabbed a plate with a piece of cake before returning to the chair fort. She awkwardly scaled the chairs, making sure to not drop the cake. Once she was at the top, the girl excitedly handed the cake to the horned boy.

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  "Here, Tros. I got the last one for you." Without a word of thanks, the bald child took the plate and began to chow down with his hands.

  After watching Tros scarf down a few handfuls, the girl worked up the courage to ask, "Is it really true, Tros? Are you gonna be an Underlord when you grow up?" When asked this, Tros crudely wiped his mouth of frosting and swallowed his most recent bite.

  "Heck yeah. Ma Gift's super good, an' I'm really tough. Everyone just stick wit me, and ya'll get ta be ma Underguards!" Tros made sure to shout the last part of declaration, exciting many of the kids climbing about the furniture fort.

  Invigorated by the reactions he'd garnered, Tros grabbed the green-haired girl's head to stand up while shouting to his followers, "Let's start practicin', guys. Go get everybody else's chairs and make our fort real huge!"

  Per his commands, the fort kids cheered as they went and started fights with the other groups to take their chairs. The Watcher narrowed his eyes at this, now having to stay far more vigilant to ensure that none of the children killed each other.

  As his gang began bringing chairs back from the kids who were too scared to fight back, Tros laughed giddily. However, his good mood was disrupted when he noticed a red-haired boy sitting on a chair in the corner. On top of that, a black-haired boy with goggles in Tros' gang had yet to act. Instead, he was meekly standing by the fort's base.

  Climbing down to the goggle-wearing kid, Tros snapped, "Hey, I told ya guys ta go get chairs! Don't ya wanna be a part of ma Undergaurd?"

  "Wha-what? Uh, yeah, I do. I just-," the boy with goggles began.

  Cutting him off, Tros pointed to the kid with red hair and barked out, "Well, go take that loser's chair!"

  Despite being given his orders, the goggle-wearing kid hesitated for a moment. He had some reluctance and fear on his face, looking back and forth between the red-haired boy and Tros to weigh his options. However, once the crackling energy on Tros' horns made it clear he was getting mad, the goggle-kid steeled up his nerves and went to confront the boy sitting by himself.