Fallen (Part 1)

There is a strange rhythm to the firing of firearms. Thump, thump, thump, shots ring out like the beat of a drummer, setting the tempo of the battlefield. Against the hailstorm of bullets, any resistance is futile. There was nothing Rai could do but tremble in fear. He did not dare to lift the cover of the manhole he has taken refuge in to look at the state of the town he once called home.

Guns. What a terrifying invention. The bloodied, chaotic mess of traditional battlefields have, in a single swoop, revolutionized itself into the a clinical science. Reload. Aim. Fire. Reload. Aim. Fire. A simple cycle replaced the once complex battlefield. Now, anyone could be a soldier.

Rai once had a dream of becoming a swordsman. Swordsmanship was a common bond between him and his father. Rai could not forgot the afternoons he spent with his father on the green pastures outside the town learning the way of the sword. He could still remember the look on his father's face when he managed, for the first time, to land a hit on him. Rai loved the art that bought him closer to his father that was other preoccupied by his position as the chief of the town's guards.

That dream was shattered minutes ago. A bullet, shot by a man half as capable as his father, destroyed years of effort put into training. No amount of swordsmanship could challenged a single bullet. His father, his hero, died like any other, his skills useless in the new battlefield. Rai lose faith in his sword at that moment. Like a coward, he whimpered and ran away from the battlefield, hiding from the enemy.

Screams of agony and despair pierced Rai's eardrums. He drew his legs closer to his body, huddled in darkness. His hand could not stop shaking. It was too scary for him. Clamping his hands next to his ears, he attempted to drown out the voice to no avail. In the depths of the manhole, Rai withered.

He had no idea how much time has passed since he hid. Time itself lost its meaning to Rai. He was delirious, half-mad from the screams and cries that would haunt his sleep. When he finally dared to look beyond the manhole, he saw that the town was burnt and empty. The center of the town-square held a massive pyre that burned all the bodies to ashes. Nothing was left for Rai.

He collapsed on his knees. Whimpering, crying, screaming, a strangled voice left Rai's throat. It was an animistic cry, filled with a whirlpool of emotions Rai had no words to describe. He was done.

At that moment, his eyes caught a glint of metal among the rubble of his town. Scrambling over to pick it up, the cold metallic sheen of an rifle greeted his view. His hands traced the metal barrel of the rifle - a thought struck his mind.

There is still a bullet in the chamber. He could see it loaded through the front of the barrel. He could end it all. Trembling, he placed the barrel under his chin. Cold metal poked into the soft underside of his jaw. His other hand found the trigger. With a push, he would join his father, dying to a bullet, and be put out of his misery.

The trigger was slowly depressed. A click resonated through the empty town.

Thump.

Thump.

A body hit the dirt floor. The rifle falls to the side. A ray of light shone its way to an engraving under the barrel of the gun.

Roland.

The devil that bought the world into a new age.