Prologue

It was a nice night in the city of Beaverton. People were out partying in clubs, drinking in bars, or gambling in the casinos that provided the city with most of its revenue and jobs. As such, it was known as a party town with a nice nightlife and a diverse amount of culture from every corner of Remnant. Of course, that's only the surface of the town.

Beaverton also houses the largest organized crime groups in the world. Their influence spreading like vines from the city to every major city in Remnant. When gangs want to meet to discuss disputes, deals, negotiations, or just have a good time, they come here. The city is run by a single person who ensures that gang disputes remain civil and nonviolent. If a gang becomes violent, they face a choice: either pay a substantial fine and be banned from the city, or have a bounty placed on the head of each member, leading to being hunted by every bounty hunter or criminal in Remnant for life.

Though there will always be rule breakers as long as rules exist,.

On the roof of a building overlooking the city sat a tan young man with dark curly hair in a simple bun. The young man, in between a teen and an adult, had broad shoulders and a large build that suggested he goes to the gym on the daily. He wore a camo jacket and some jeans, in his hand a beer bottle. 

Next to him was a picture of a younger him, another boy, and a dark haired girl in between them a arm wrapped around their shoulders, pulling them together for a picture.

The teen sipped his beer and picked up the picture, examining the smiles. A look of sadness and guilt on his face as he set down his beer.

 "I'm sorry for ever bringing you into this, Jake," he said as tears threatened to fall. He wiped his eyes, then quickly downed the rest of his beer before tossing it off the roof. 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small detonator. He looked at the picture one last time, the smile of the girl taunting him. "Should've listened to mom" His hand started glowing red as the picture turned into ash in his hands. 

He then pressed the button on the detonator, and a series of explosions were heard throughout the city. Smoke rose through the air, visible for miles.

"Fuck this city." He whispered before jumping off the roof. As he fell, his still glowing, red hot hand dug into the side of the building, hot enough to melt through and slow his descent.

He reached the floor and rolled to negate the impact, then took off, running to the docks. His ticket to escape was waiting for him.

Somewhere else in the city.

Smoke filled the air, debris rained, and fire raged - a throbbing headache accompanied the sights and smells that Abbi experienced as she woke up on the floor. 

She was in the middle of having a drink in an extravagant penthouse apartment when her bodyguard came to the door with a package. She set the package down on the table and read the writing on it.

"To Miss Clara, From a Friend." She read and opened the package. There sat a small envelope which confused Abbi as to why someone would package the envelope and not just mail it by itself. She ignored the weirdness of the package, opened the envelope, and took out a note with writing.

"If you are reading this then it hasn't happened yet. You might be wondering 'what hasn't happened yet' doesn't matter just read the note. This note has been made to inform you that you are a psycho bitch that caused the death of my friend and I will burn your empire to the ground. From your best friend V :) ." Abbi read the note aloud slowly, getting more and more angry.

'Why is he still alive?!' She thought to herself, she got up to yell at her subordinates for failing at their job when she saw writing on the bottom of the note. "P.S. I wouldn't go into the bathroom" She ran to the bathroom and threw the door open, and an open suitcase with a bomb armed counting down sat on the toilet. "OH SHIT!" She flung herself behind the kitchen counter right as the bomb exploded, destroying the apartment.

Abbi got up, furious and limping, blood streaming down her forehead. She turned and saw the apartment in ruin. Footsteps were heard at her door, which was now nothing more than rubble as one of her many bodyguards ran in, gun raised. "Miss Clara, are you alright?!" he shouted, worried more about his job than his employer.

"Shut up and give me your phone!" She shouted back, her headache amplified from his shouting. She yanked the phone he offered her out of his hand and dialed a number, putting it to her ear. A man answered the phone. "Miss Clara did you see what hap-" he was cut off as Abi shouted, "Shut up! Get every man we have in the city and put them around the city exits! I don't want anyone in or out! You hear me!?"

"Ye–s M-aam." The man stuttered, frightened. "And put a bounty of 5 billion lien on Vaughn De Leon! I want his head delivered to me on a platter!" She practically screamed at the phone. "Bu-t Ma-a-m that's a little too much don't yo-" he was cut off again. "NOW!" she shouted into the phone.

"Ye-s Ma'am" he hung up. She threw the phone back to the bodyguard and looked out the window. She took a deep breath and let out an impossibly loud scream, empowered by her semblance, "VAUGHN!!!" The scream was so loud it shattered glass, and everyone in the city heard it.

The young man, now known as Vaughn, could only smile in satisfaction on the boat he was on as he heard the screech that would put most horror movie monsters to shame, knowing he had succeeded in his plan.