A Tyrant's Will

Prologue: Before ANHS

It was soon after starting elementary school that I realized I was abnormal.

I found a large snake on a class field trip. I wasn't afraid of being bitten. Some students watched with great interest from a safe distance, some were scared, and still others couldn't care less. Most, however, wanted the snake to die. Even the adults panicked, crying out for someone to help.

So, I grabbed a big rock and bashed in the snake's head. I might have gotten bit, but I wasn't afraid of that.

My classmates screamed, and the teachers were in a panic. I didn't really care. I wasn't trying to be a hero by destroying the snake everyone feared; I just didn't see the need to be afraid of it.

I learned something about myself that day.

The moment an enemy succumbs, I feel a huge rush of adrenaline. Fear and pleasure are two sides of the same coin to me; violence rules the world, and the effectiveness of your own particular brand of violence determines what you accomplish. The snake's death was my first unshakeable victory, and the sight of its flattened corpse gave me such pleasure.

The fact remains, however, that people are hostile toward those they sense are different from them. I've had many enemies since that day, both internal and external.

Even so, I was never afraid. All I thought about was how to get revenge, and how to turn the tables on my enemies. Eventually, they would all bow to me. Those who possess an unparalleled capacity for violence are truly the elite.

There was just one problem, and it grew as I did. It became increasingly difficult to feel pleasure.

I was bored. Bored because no one could fulfill my dearest wish – to be overthrown.

An odd wish for an elementary school child, to be sure. Then again, I was hardly what anyone would call normal by today's standards.

My mother left when I was very young. My father, a businessman, was often away for days or even weeks at a time. Even when he was home, he mostly ignored me. To him, I was just a nuisance, someone unworthy of his attention.

I felt bitter. I wanted someone to acknowledge me – someone who thought my existence was worth something.

From that day on, I made up my mind. I wanted the respect and recognition I had been denied. And I would earn it by making the entire school fear me.

Slowly, I rose to the top of the hierarchy at my middle school. I beat down anyone who stood in my way. There were many punks who gave me a hard time, but I would always break them down and win in the end. 

It didn't matter how many times I lost in the beginning. Heck, the number of times I've been beaten were probably close to the hundreds.

No matter how badly I was defeated, no matter how impossible victory may seem – my grit and determination never faltered.  I studied their attack patterns and movement, and enhanced my own style to combat theirs. Through numerous brawls, I created my own fighting style, one of quick aggression and surprise attacks and feints to catch the opponent off guard. 

Violence is the most powerful method of control in the world, and fear is the most powerful feeling in the world. Humans who rule by trust are fools. I've seen enough of the world to know that not all humans possess trust and kindness within them. They will seek to take advantage of you, to manipulate your kindness for their benefit and betray you when they feel your worth has diminished.

Fear, on the other hand, is an innate and natural emotion, one that everyone possesses. Create a situation where betrayal is unthinkable due to the fear of retribution, and you've built a proper, unshakable monolith.