As the child had fled, as he'd woven his way down the smog ridden streets, he had been the only one to hear the sound of heavy clangs in the distance.
The sound of frightful yells. The sound of gun shots.
For, it was not deemed so simple as to flee and escape such mens suffocating grasp. For they'd slaughtered his mother. They'd laughter the child.
Their hearts were cold. They would be so easily compared to the likes of a brick.
Menacing, yet their true demeanour poisoned. Always poised to attack.
Though despite these men having the highest of intelligence, they lacked one thing in this desolate wasteland, the one thing that few were to bare these days.
The child had a sense of hope. A hope that simply could not be diminished. A hope greater than any other known to mankind.
And as he'd taken one last glance back toward the place he'd once called 'home', though what little he'd had; a single tear had cascaded down his dirt smeared right cheek.
This child, much more of a weapon than this world had ever seen. Though, he'd have to choose. Had he been meant to stay? Had he been chosen to flee? Would he use this as a weapon against humanity? Would he join the masked men? Would he use it to bring the humans peace and redemption? Fight off the forces stealing away everything?
So many questions.
So little time.
