Once all people received Souls and incredible powers. Some were lucky enough to obtain the Soul of an ancient and powerful creature, but fate was not favorable to all. The world began to change, and creatures evolved. But, it was not the beginning of a new era. It was the end. A couple of months later, a dark mist appeared and destroyed the world. It was a dictate of destiny from which no one could escape. Wain Norheim was the world's best assassin and the only one who didn't get a soul. However, he was destined to gain the power to confront fate. Escaping through a portal into another world, he unknowingly began the apocalypse. Even the world failed to expel him.
A powerful aura emanated from Wain with murderous intent that two powerful streams fell upon Sven, but it had no effect on his harmless smile.
"Is something wrong? You seem a little too tense today. Maybe it's time for a drink already?" Sven muttered, turning around and grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the shelf.
"You don't seem bothered by this situation. You certainly got the point of my question." Wain muttered while looking Sven in the eye, "Yeah, you are."
"Huh, someone warned you about me, right?" Sven asked with a sly smile as he poured whiskey into two glasses.
"Something like that." Wain slid the glass toward him, "I've had many unique cocktails here before, but we've never had one together before. Is today some kind of special day?"
"No. Not at all." Sven shook his head, "I only drink with people I respect, there are very few people like that."