Mediterranean airspace, 11th of June, 2005

How does it feel to be alive?

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" yelled a furious Lieutenant Colonel Nathaniel Simpson as he hurtled down, accelerating towards the ground before reaching terminal velocity, along with the rest.

"Relax," replied his commanding officer, Colonel Noah Blake. "It's just thirty thousand feet! Don't make me call you a pussy!"

For Colonel Noah Blake, it was plummeting from an airplane from about thirty thousand feet while enjoying some Marlboro cigarettes. For his two brothers-in-arms, plummeting at the same speed, it was hardly so.

"Gentlemen," began the Colonel. "At this altitude, what do you say is the best course of action so you'll survive the landing unscathed?" he asked. Lieutenant Colonel Jake Crawford was first to speak.

"Preferably, we reinforce our legs and spine so when we land, we… don't break them?" he suggested. Nathaniel Simpson cleared his throat before intervening.

"No, don't be stupid, Jake. At this altitude, our entire body would be rattled. At this point, we'll need to reinforce our whole bodies into nothing short of steel," he said. A white hue encompassed him, small particles swirling around him before they receded into him.

"Correctamundo, Lieutenant Nathaniel," said Noah as he, too, began to glow a faint green. The glow abated eventually.

"Was it really necessary," asked Jake, innocently. "To push us out of the plane without our parachutes?"

"Don't make me laugh, Lieutenant Colonel," chuckled Noah. "Those guys down there are beasts beyond beasts, and it'll be a hell of a battle. One of you might even die. However, I'll be damned if I die without having made an epic entrance, and what, my fellow brothers-in-arms, is more epic than having jumped straight out of a plane, only to land, creating a giant crater?!" he yelled.

"WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING?!" yelled both Jake and Nathaniel in unison.

(Five minutes earlier)

The transport aircraft carrying the strongest soldiers in the United States of America flew silently, gliding through the air, gradually inching itself towards its destination. The aircraft was empty, save for the pilots and the three soldiers destined for battle. Two of them were fidgeting, fiddling their thumbs nervously.

Colonel Noah Blake, however, was biding his time by concentrating his xeons. The swirling of particles and light was contained mostly to an arms length, but there were few who'd want to experience any of it. He wore an australian slouch hat that he found in a yard sale back home, and had a cigarette resting on his lips. His shades had broken earlier, so he only had one glass in front of his right eye, while his left was completely bare, giving people the impression that he was just blind on his right eye.

The crackling of the radio then sounded.

"We've got an ETA: five minutes til we arrive at Cyprus," it sounded. Blake smirked as he began fiddling with the gun he was provided. He assessed it in mild confusion.

"Dunno why they gave this to me," he said. Nobody was paying attention, of course, but he knew that. He put the gun back in its holster and sat back. He'd need the gun eventually for whatever act he could make up on the spot.

Eventually, they had reached their destination. The three soldiers stood up. Where two of them were carrying their army backpacks with parachutes, Noah stood up, disregarding his. The soldiers approached the opened hatch and right before they could jump out, Noah yanked their backpacks off and kicked them out before he, too, jumped after them.

(Five minutes later - present) (OST - watch?v=RaLhPCvcezY)

The landing was impeccable... for Colonel Blake, that is. His two partners both had it rough, but they could pull through. After all, they had just fallen from thirty thousand feet. Worst case scenario is that they sprained their ankles. Noah landed in one one foot, one knee while touching down with one hand, creating a rather large crater. Jake landed on his arms, letting them act as a spring to ease the momentum transfer, and then jumped to his feet while Nathaniel emulated Noah, but too little success. All in all, they were both fine.

Noah stood up and lifted up the brim of his hat so he could see better. They had landed at the evacuated island of Cyprus, just a stone throw away from the Iron Curtain. He looked to his side and found a group of three much like his own. The main soldier (he assumed it was the main soldier because he was standing while the rest were kneeling) seemed to be wearing plate-mail. It was a knight of the Kingdom of England... meaning that they were allies. Richard Milesworth, in the flesh. Besides him were too companions who wore mage coats straight out of a fantasy flick. None of their faces were visible through the veil they wore.

"Blimey," exclaimed the armoured knight in a sarcastic tone. "Noah fucken' Blake himself. God, do us a favour and don't talk. At least you'll spare us the embarrassment," he spoke with a tinge of arrogance, and had a minuscule rasp in his voice, which increased his intimidation factor.

"Pffft," Noah blew a raspberry as he waved the comment off. "I bet you said the word favor with a 'U'. I ain't in your dominion no more, King George, the third," he retorted. One of the Knight's companions snickered, causing the other one to smack them lightly on the shoulder, effectively shutting them up.

Besides them, three of the largest males Noah had ever seen stood, great swords, war hammers and a thick broad-sword all equipped. The one with the broad-sword stood in the middle, a shield on his left arm. 'Great,' Noah thought. 'Shield bashers. Well, at least they're on our side,'. None of them wore helmets. They all wore thick chainmail, most likely reinforced steel. All in all, they had such an overpowering aura to them.

Further in front, opposite where they were standing, six other soldiers stood. Three of them wore samurai armour. Two of them had concealed faces while the main man (again, he assumed it was the main soldier because he was in front of them) had his face completely bare. Next to them, there were three other people. They wore standard camouflage outfits, but with a red star in the middle.

"Damn commies," grumbled Noah.

Next to the Samurai warriors stood the great Xi Dynasty Warriors. They had similar armour to the Samurai, wielded pole-arms only and were bearded. They seemed to be in their early forties.

Further to the right, on a rock overlooking the green field, three tall black men stood. They all wore a cloth covering their lower bodies, and were adorned with jewelries of technicolor beads and face-paint. The one in the middle had a long-bow on his back, and sat cross-legged. He had no quiver, but it was obvious where he'd be getting his arrows. The two that flanked him had long spears and cow-hide shields. Organic material could conduct xeons with ease, thus making cow-hide a good alternative.

"Oh fuck me in the ass with a carrot, a seven-way, huh? And they've got the damn Masaai here, too!" exclaimed Noah Blake. "Friends and foes, as you may have guessed from my superior mannerism and my amicability, I am a soldier of the distant land of the United States!" he yelled out loudly, causing their english allies to cringe and groan. The vikings remained impassive as ever, merely biding their time until the clash was to occur. The Union soldier in the middle began to laugh as he pulled out a flask of vodka and drank it... in the middle of the battlefield.

"Always like to make a nice entrance, eh, gaijin?" greeted the forefront Samurai warrior, the representative of the Dual Nations of The Rising Sun. Noah knew who he was, along with the commie. Shinmen Hazama, the wind fury. Besides him was Piotr Ivanovsky, the Tundra. Both crazy strong, both crazy deadly, and both crazy, fullstop.

"While it may have been fun if we met in other circumstances," said the commie, Piotr, in a thick russian accent. "I'm afraid my country has bestowed upon me the duty to put your head on a pike. It's not personal, comrade, I sort of like you, really," he said in between chugs of alcohol. The masaai warriors remained still as statues, not bothering to join the verbal melee.

"Why don't you chase your vodka with this?!" yelled Noah as he pulled out a gun and fired it, aiming straight at his head.

Before the bullet could meet its mark, it was sliced in half by one of the samurai at the side.

"Y-you brought a gun?!" demanded Nathaniel. Noah took his gun and crumpled it into a ball of scrap metal.

"Eeyup!" he yelled as he pressed the metallic lump onto his fist, now wearing it like a glove. Noah knew what time it was now. It was time to crush these anti-freedom commies to the ground like insects. The pressure around him spiked as his xeons suddenly engulfed the battlefield like the eye of a cyclone. He shrunk the area and increased the density so that the coat of xeons were around him for the most part. Both Nathaniel and Jake did the same, but on a much less impressive scale.

The Knight of England stood up proudly, unsheathing a large two-handed sword, a claymore. The two mages behind him smacked the ground with their hands simultaneously, causing blue runic circles to swirl around the knight. As they poured their xeons into the circle, the Knight of England began to crackle with blue energy, electricity swirling around himself as he, too, added his own xeons into the mix. Noah could only whistle at the monstrosity, and be happy that they were on his side.

In return, the Soviet Union soldiers, the Xi Dynasty Warriors and the samurai began spiking up their own pressure. Cyprus was about to become a wasteland, and no natural disaster could measure up to the absolute carnage that would ensue. The shield bashers began charging up their bloodlust, cranking up their collective pressure incredibly. The formerly green field was now becoming stiff earth. The environment itself was changing drastically. The air grew thinner, the temperature fluctuated and the gale-force wind swept the ground, smoothing the battlefield.

The African warriors spoke up suddenly. He stood up from his cross-legged position and projected himself loudly and proudly.

"On behalf of the African Supercountry, sending us here to convey a message to all your leaders, and not for war, intrinsically," said the bow-wearing warrior in a thick, but understandable African accent. "We will remain on the sidelines until a victor has been decided, and then we will issue our ultimatum," said the main soldier. 'Great, politics. Couldn't have left that one back home, could you?' thought Noah.

The two behind him both yelled a phrase in an African language as they stabbed their spears into the earth, creating an earthen dome which encompassed the three warriors. Noah looked at the opposing side, hunger in his eyes as he stared at them intently. The Knight monstrosity was charged up and ready. His two mages retreated down into the earth, biding their time and not getting in the way of the Knight. The three samurai seemed as ready as ever. The vikings, not having uttered a word yet as battle is their language, were getting extremely agitated.

Noah charged into the fray, along with his two young, but talented brothers in arms. The Knight ran in with a speed that betrayed his massive build. The samurai also charged in, blades unsheathed along with the Union soldiers. In no time, the chinese converged into the battle field. Noah grinned brightly, baring all of his teeth in bloodlust.

"Go ahead, fuckers! Make my day!" he yelled as his fist was inching towards Piotr in a battle so destructive, it would be for all eternity remembered as 'The Xeonian Superburst' because of its far-reaching effects.

The small island-nation east of the Mediterranean sea known as Cyprus no longer exists today.

(Chapter 1)

There are those who believe that strength comes from the encouragement of those around themselves. That with enough support and love from friends and family, a person can break out of their cage of mediocrity and transcend into something higher, something stronger.

Those people believe that the 'weak' in this world are the ones devoid of hope and happiness; that the weak are alone and unloved. The very fact that they were not shown enough kindness is the direct cause of their weakness. If you ask me, here's my blunt answer: I don't think so.

There's a difference between strength cultivated in solitude and strength lended to you by other people. One lasts for as long as you do, and the other lasts until the people who gave you that strength are no longer in your life, which is imminent. One's permanent and the other's not. Can't be too hard to pick one over the other…

...besides, that's pretty much my origin story, anyway.

My name is Lucas King, born November 14th, 2005, currently seventeen years old and a high school senior. I go to Augustine Ulysses Academy, or A.U.A for short. Have been for the past three years, meaning my entire highschool life. I live in an academy dormitory, though I haven't been introduced to my roommate, yet.

Summer was over, and that meant back to school. After completing the yearly entrance exam a week ago, I spent the rest of the summer in campus. There's nothing diligent about that. I merely missed the place. I moved into my new dorm apartment in the senior section of Sunshine Creek, which is the name of the dorm area where scholarship students would stay.

I was just finishing my daily jogs. Once done, I took a short breather and pulled out my phone to check the time. It was seven in the evening. I changed the playlist to Hyper burst by Dakimaki, a somewhat famous techno-musician that made some songs a few years back. I ran back to the apartment, my next mission to take a short shower before watching anime for the rest of the night.

The academy was extremely large; almost ridiculously so. Spanning at a whooping 2,200 acres, the academy sure didn't know how to spare any expense. Well, it's on the expense of the general populace, really, since the school was made using taxpayer money, but hey, who's going to complain when national security is at risk?

As I ran besides a pond, my shadow stretched as the sun was slowly receding, painting the sky orange. It was a pretty sight, and one of the many reasons why I run.

See, life is pretty surprising. Throws all kinds of screwballs at you. At best, you can just take 'em like a champ and hope to learn from that experience. Life's all about the hardships and the hurdles, after all,

"Excuse me," she began. "but who the hell are you and why are you in my apartment?"

Some hurdles may be more challenging than others. Take for example my new roommate. A pretty girl that's blonde and has an english accent. She wore a frilly white minidress that was immaculate, . If I didn't know any better, I'd say this scene would be very familiar to a certain anime that I watched a year or so back. At least she wasn't half naked the moment I walked in, giving her a reason to gift me a nice little slap-kun. As I walked into the apartment, I saw the girl unpacking her bags and sifting through her clothes. The moment she saw me, she made a face and asked me the question mentioned above.

"I'm guessing we're roommates?" I suggested, much to her anger.

"What do you mean 'roommate', you must be lost, because in case you haven't noticed, I'm a lady!" she yelled.

"You do realize that most of the students living here are co-ed, right?" I asked her.

"Excuse me if I don't believe you," she said, much to my annoyance. I fished out the keys from my pocket and showed them to her.

"See? Keys to room 3.3, block six!"

"Then there must be some kind of mistake," she concluded firmly, crossing her arms


"Then aren't you going to apologize?" I asked her. "For insulting me unduly,"

"I'm under no obligation to do so," she replied haughtily.

"Whatever. Anyways, I don't believe there's a mistake. Tons of students live co-ed around here. You must be new then, aren't you?" I said as I stretched out my hand intending to greet her. Much to my surprise, she slapped my hand away. Feeling slightly insulted, I retracted my hand and placed it in my pocket.

"There's a mistake and I intend to have it rectified immediately. Do not think that you can simply 'mess around' with me. I won't allow it," she said as she stomped over to the landline telephone that sat on a table at the corner. Next to it lay a placard with all the relevant numbers for the administration offices.

She typed in the numbers and began talking. Feeling uninterested, I turned to the right so I could get my change of clothes to shower. Before I could enter the corridor, my newfound roommate stopped me.

"Don't. Move!" she commanded. Well, okay, then. I stood by and waited for her to conclude her conversation… which seemed to be ending violently as she eventually hung up by smacking the phone down harshly. She stood up and looked at me angrily.

"What's the verdict?" I asked her.

"For as long as you'll be my roommate, let's set a few things straight. You don't talk to me, you don't look at me, and you certainly won't come near me," she commanded. Raising an eyebrow, I stared at her dumbfounded.

"Pardon me…" I began, completely lost. "...but what gave you the authority to make rules?"

"You want to make this school year go as smoothly as possible? Follow my advice, and it will," she commanded.

See, there is a fine line between a conqueror and a bully. The two are quite similar, actually, but also quite opposite. Both involve imposing your will on another person, making them do your bidding. Despite this, the only thing that distinguishes them is who you impose your will over. Now, a conqueror can only become one once they have overcome a monumental hurdle, and has conquered something of equal, less than or greater power. A bully imposes their will on those that they think are weak, looking for the easiest target in a sea of challenges.

The difference is that of a child who kicks an ant-hill and an general waging war at strong nations, but conquering them nonetheless.

Now, I'm not saying that I'm weak, but the fact of the matter is that she perceives me as such. If she thinks that I am weak, and attempts to impose her will on me like that, she's a bully. If her general disrespect towards me is of any indication, that's more than enough to make a safe assumption.

I've got no time for bullies. Not anymore, at least.

"Yeah…" I paused for a second. "...no. That's not how any of this is going to work. How it will work is that we maintain a relationship where we are both equal,"

"How dare you suggest that I would be equal to you?"

Oh, I must be getting blind Otherwise I'm just that dense. She's obviously upper class. What more is she has an inferiority complex. To top it all off, she's English. At this point, I had it.


"I don't know exactly who the hell you think you are, but swallow that damn pride of yours and please be a normal person," I snapped. Her face grew red in anger as she glared daggers at me.

That's one thing I like about being black, you see. Come nausea, anger or embarrassment, no one would notice. It's just a fun observation, really.

"H-how dare you… you obviously need to be put in your place," she told me angrily.

"And where's that?" I asked her.

"Kneeling," she said as she leaned forward, holding her hips while grinning maliciously. "licking the sole of my shoes,".

At this point, you might expect me to snap or something. After all, many people do. I won't, however. Not because it would give her the satisfaction or because I need to be the bigger man. It's just that this scene is so incredibly overdone, I know exactly what might happen. The argument will escalate until she challenges me to a duel, and then loses. Then gradually, she'll start falling for me and follow me around like a lovestruck puppy. At least that's what happened in Chivalry of a failed knight.

"Is your name Stella Vermillion? I asked her, not really knowing what to expect.

"What?" she asked. I rolled my eyes.

"What's your name," I asked her. She looked at me defiantly, nose in the air.

"Alexandra Milesworth," she answered, proudly. Her last name lit up something in my memory.

"Do you happen to be related to Richard Milesworth, the superburst survivor?" I asked her. She smirked at me.

"Hmm," she smirked. "Why, yes, indeed, for I'm his darling daughter. What's the matter? Are you afraid of me?"

"That's besides the point. Listen, my name is Lucas King. I just want to hear one thing. What should I do to make you consider me an equal?" I asked her.

"Hmm, are you that eager to be under my good grace?" she smirked victoriously. "Try to last at least five minutes with me in a duel. I'll then treat you with the respect befitting of someone with your strength," she said. I couldn't help but sigh. At the moment, I wasn't really sure who was stronger, and I had it on good authority to assume that she was at least capable, due to her lineage. The thing, however, is that she speaks like someone that has only been subjected to weak people. That her entire life, she has only been fighting weaklings, which had boosted her ego so enormously.

On the one hand, she could be strong. On the other, she is more bark than she's bite, and she could be really weak. I was inclined to believe the latter, as she certainly didn't portray someone with such power. It really only left me one choice.

"I decline," I said. She began giggling like a schoolgirl who just heard gossip.

"Are you really that afraid of me?" she asked. I sighed again.

"Let me ask you a question. Do you think you're strong?" I asked her. She regained her scowl and resumed her hostility once again.

"What kind of question is that?" she asked. "I don't 'think' I'm strong. I know I am," she answered confidently.

"How do you know that?" I asked her, pressing for answers.

"By merit, of course. I'm a triple-gold medal winning karate champion. I've gotten a gold-medal in fencing and personal tutelage from my own father," she replied proudly.

"Hmm," I hummed. "And why is it that he sent you here, which is for all intents and purposes, intrinsically a militaristic institution meant to train the young for the benefit of the country, seeing as how you're already so strong?"

"He sent me here so I would become stronger," she replied, slightly lost.

"So," I retorted. "You aren't strong enough that you've got nothing else to learn?" I asked her. She clenched her fists and walked up to me angrily. At this point, I was just bugging her. I wasn't leading her on to anything, really.

"Do not test me, Lucas King. Now, do you want to fight or not?" she asked me.

Hubris; the undoing of royalty. She wasn't royalty, per say, but it was close enough. Her overconfidence was staggering, but I decided to humor her.

"Now listen, Alex," I told her.

"It's Alexandra, you imbecile,"

"Listen, Alex," I emphasized on her name, much to her annoyance. "I've been testing you because, quite frankly, I don't believe you're as strong as you think you are. In fact, you keep saying that word like you know what it means,".

She began laughing mirthlessly before staring at me dead in the eyes.

"Are you trying to slither yourself out of this battle?" she asked me, faux-coily.

"Just give me one good reason that I should fight you, that isn't based on anger or wanting to hurt me," I challenged her. She raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"What are you talking about?" she asked me.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm deliberately steering this away from the inevitable showdown, and you're not helping!" I ranted, leaning in closer. "You are a cliche stock character tsundere. Stop it,"

"Can you make an effort to make more sense?!" she yelled at me.

"Let's settle this with a round of Mortal Kombat, how about that?" I proposed. She looked at me like I was an idiot before laughing maniacally.

"Mo-mortal combat?! Are you actively seeking death?!" she couldn't help but continue to laugh like I said the funniest thing in the world.

It took me a few seconds before I realized that she thought I was talking about a fight to the death.

"Wait, you don't play videogames?" I asked her, incredulously.

"W-what? Of course not!" she yelled as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Then how about a game of chess? I bet they had at least a game like that in your castle," I proposed.

"Enough talk, Lucas King. Do you want to fight or not?" she asked me as she began to cup her hands. I could feel xeons emanating from her body as a bright white glow materialised within her hands before a thin whip-like appendage sprouted from the cupped hands. She grabbed the lowest part of the ethereal and half-transparent whip and swung it around herself.

"While that was… impressive," I began, unsure of what words to use. "You don't want to fight inside the apartment, now would you?" I asked her. She smirked as the translucent tendril shot towards the doorknob of the door right behind myself and opened it. Distracted by the door, I wasn't even aware of the kick that she planted on my midsection which was strong enough to send me flying put the apartment, over the railing and onto the lawn that lay in front of the block.

I regained my bearings with ease and landed, completely unhurt. From above, I saw the proud Milesworth heiress looking down at me, in more ways than one. After planting one foot on the railing, she jumped out and performed a double somersault before landing straight, curtsying right afterwards.

"Don't worry, Lucas King, I'll be gentle," she said in quite an ominous tone.

Now, if I was any given anime rom-com protagonist, I'd make a run for it. There are an extreme few people in this world, however, that I actually fear, and she doesn't have the physical fortitude to even approach the roster.

No, instead of running away, I stood up and waited for the blow. Her whip swirled around the air like a possessed snake. She swung her arm high before lashing me with all the strength that she had. The lash hit me on the shoulder, which was enough to trip me back. I quickly regained balance and took a look at my shoulder. Nothing but… skin remained, Wait a minute, she hadn't even penetrated the skin! The shirt I was wearing, obviously, was reduced to a mere smoky sizzle on the shoulder..

I stood up confidently and looked at her.

"For your own good, please give up," I told her. She lost her crazed grin and wore an angry scowl.

"Are you underestimating me? Because I'm a lady?!" she asked me. Well, as most preposterous things go, that one wasn't even top five considering all the bullshit she's been spouting. Actually, there hardly aren't that many females in this school that I really give a shit about, so how exactly am I supposed to underestimate them then? Besides, the ones that I do, I wouldn't dream of underestimating. They'd kill me.

Deciding that the battle had dragged on for too long, because the very fact that it existed was 'too long' in my book, I ended it quickly.

I flared my xeons. As I forcefully dilated my meridians to make more room for atmospheric xeons to circulate inside of me, I forcefully expunged it, sort of like pressing down a sponge right after having it absorb water. Now, I was a very absorbant sponge, and my opponent seemed to be allergic to water.

See, when xeons swirl around violently, in a brownian-like motion, hitting random particles and objects, someone that is generally weaker and is in the vicinity will feel overwhelmed as a sense of ill-fate washes over them. The larger the strength-gap, the more drastic the effect.

Her legs buckled as she could hardly withstand the pressure that I was exerting on her. I tried going all out on the pressure expulsion so I could end it quietly, but it was kind of challenging.

Alexandra forced herself to her knees as her breath became laboured.

"Y-you were stronger than I thought," she conceded. "I'll give you that," she said.

"Just give up, Alex. I don't want to have to do this to you. This goes against my values," I told her. Truth be told, I wasn't comfortable having to fight someone because they disliked me. I also wasn't happy having to fight someone because I need them to do something that I want them to do. I'm imposing my will on the weaker person. I'm being the bully.

Before letting more intrusive thoughts guilt me into breaking down, I ceased the expulsion and gave my opponent a respite. I walked over to her and stretched my hand out to her.

"Take it, Alexandra. Be graceful in defeat and I may raise my opinion on you," I teased. Not much to my surprise, she slapped the hand away and stood up for herself before glaring daggers at me.

"What makes you think that I was defeated?" she asked me, bewildered. "Let's continue the fight, Lucas, don't you dare walk away from m-"

"SHUT UP!" I snapped at her, yelling from the bottom of my heart. Now, I snapped. Not only did she make me go against my values as the only way for her to knock off with her bullshit. My outburst seemed to have stopped her from continuing on with her tirade. "It's okay not to be the strongest. Not everyone can be," I mentioned, more as an attempt to console her than anything else.

Swiftly, she turned around and stood still. I could hear faint whimpers, but I didn't have to be Sherlock Holmes to know that I made her cry. I wasn't really sure what to do, but I was sure of what not to do.

Don't, for example, just leave them there, crying. Also don't pat their backs. Just stand there and wait for her to stop.

Suddenly, she turned around, her puffy eyes staring straight at me, with more sadness than anger,

"Y-you r-ruffian!" she managed to stutter out.

See, faces are different, but expressions seem to have this weird way of being able to translate into different faces, and you can still tell the similarity. Now, her expression, I had seen before… countless times, actually… every time I looked in the mirror when I was younger, and when times were much tougher than they were today.

Granted, I suffered objectively more than she had, the pain of disillusionment is still quite the kicker. Not to mention that it was the way she was raised that messed her up so badly. I couldn't blame her for that. Then again, Hitler's upbringing still led to the holocaust, so that excuse doesn't count. However, she never did harm me, neither mentally or physically, so I had no qualms with her.

"When you cry," I started. "It's because you're frustrated. Good. It means you haven't given up, yet. Rejoice, Alexandra Milesworth. You've found yourself an opponent to surpass. Until then, don't ever give me those eyes again," I commanded. She looked at me for a moment before drying her eyes with her sleeves, cast me a glare before turning her back on me.

I couldn't help but flash a brief smile. She wasn't my least favorite kind of human, that's for sure. However, she was going to be my roommate, like it or not. The least we could do is become friends.

That was the start of an unlikely friendship.