Prologue

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It was a hot summers day in what used to be Sacramento California. The weather was unbearable and it seemed that a dreary haze rested over everything. Felix Kjellberg picked through the remains of what looked like an old building on his way to the town square. Clothes ratted and torn, hair messy and blowing in the breeze. He looked out at the remains of what used to be a great world and his heart crumbled. His blue eyes were dead and sad, his smile faded. Premature wrinkles in the corners of his eyes and a slight beard shadowed his face. He was grave and determined. He would bring his people to justice.
Felix wasn't exactly well-liked in these parts. Some called him a traitor, some a hero. He was an outlaw, people whispered "traitor" "freak" and "bastard" when he walked by. When he walked down the street, people crossed over to the other side.
Ken Morrison was quite the opposite. The town's "good boy." His father was a farmer and the townspeople had a lot of respect for the man, as hard-workers were scarce these days and they all depended on his produce. His father grew tomatoes and onions and on a good year, corn. Ken helped out to the best of his abilities and was learning many things from his uncle, who had been a doctor before the big war came and tore everything apart. A bit more well dressed than the others, Ken looked respectable and healthy and always wore a dazzling smile despite the circumstances.
The two had such different social statuses, they had heard of but never met each other, even in a small town like that one. Not until that fateful day on midsummer's eve...

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