The beginning of the...
We exist to get what our master wants. We cannot be considered as living beings but as tools; tools used to satisfy the avarice and whims of our supreme master, who is also our savior in a way.
This savior is not an angel descended from heaven, but a demon who came straight from the thousand hells.
His cruelty has no equal, his goodness 'was' only superficial. But he had and always has something that never ceases to fascinate me and pulled me at him as a magnet; his temperament to fear no one, his frankness, and his powers.
We are a warrior breed. We were born in the middle of the battlefields of bloody battles. As far as I can remember, I have always lived this way; was it because of our father who only works with his punches? Or maybe because it's in our blood?
Anyway, this question is one of the most shitty questions I've ever looked at.
No matter the answer to this question, it won't be of much use to me.