Prologue

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The trees glowed in a fiery inferno. Orange sparks flew across the sky as the young man ran. He knew he could make it if he ran fast enough. The scorching pain across his back was pounding like a gong, and every step was getting more and more painful. It seemed that all he could do was keep running, hoping that the men behind him wouldn't catch up.
"There he is!" a voice said in the distance. The man knew who it was, and he pushed himself to go faster. He turned around and looked past the burning forest. Ten men where chasing him, all of them wearing the familiar black coats. He was being chased by the Force, the highest defense team of the Government.
"Hello there, boys!" He said, stopping to face them, "Wanna play?"
"Put your hands up in the air! Now!" One of the men said, making sure he didn't get away.
"But don't you want to have some fun?" the man said, smirking as a small ball of purple energy formed in his hand.
"You have committed a Breach! Put your hands in the air, Avore!" another one of the men said. The man lifted the small ball, and threw it at the men. A few men scattered, but six of them were hit by the orb. The purple energy immediately encircled the men and turned to a solid, ice-like covering.
"You want to put me in prison?" Avore said, "Try to get out of yours' first!"
"Get him!" A man yelled and they all started shooting at him. In response. Avore threw another orb, paralyzing another three men. The last man of the Force looked onto Avore, shaking in a delighted form of fear and excitement.
"So, you think you can't defeat the Government?" the last man yelled.
"No," Avore said, "But I think I can at least outrun them!" He began to run again, striving to be the faster of the two.
"You are the strongest Mutant I think I have ever met," the man responded, following Avore slowly, "and hopefully the last." A loud noise echoed through the burning greens, showers of orange rained down in reprise. One man stood standing, and the other was on the ground, dead.

The ice prison exploded into shimmering pixels, purple sparkles rained upon the six men who were once trapped. The men who were paralyzed lifted themselves back up.
"He was harder than I anticipated," one said.
"I thought we could get him before he destroyed the base," a second said.
"How did he even find it?" A third voice asked,hoping someone would respond.
"Hey!" Their commander looked upon them with a sharp glare, "It does not matter, but once again the Government has ensured safety, thanks to the Force!" Everybody cheered in joy, happy that they had once again ceased the life of another Mutant. Nine of the men walked in the direction of the base, but one stayed behind. The commander looked on to where the Mutant had fought, and than saw where the body was. He walked over, swift and quick, and he touched the body lightly.
"I hope you and all of your fellow Mutants rot in Hell."
The commander chuckled and left the scene, taking his hovergram out and scrolling through the new messages. He looked at bottom of the page, noticing the number of Mutants souls. It was down to a simple digit number.
One.
The Force had almost made the country safe again; and this time, they weren't going to make mistakes. The Government would rule all, and Mutants would be gone, forever.

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