Chapter 1 - Last Words

As we all know this small little world had many heroes, most of them fighting for one and one thing alone: Humanity. They fight, but in the end, they always abandon their own humanity. Heroes become trapped in an endless demon of their own making because deep down beyond their flesh, all they wanted was a prayer... a prayer to become more powerful when their strength was dwindled by the winds of doubt in their hearts.

There was a man that stood against all others and found himself triumphant on the battlefield. He would be known as a nobleman, beloved by the people and celebrated as a beacon of hope. Aura burning bright, fluid movements quick as lightning, wielding his weapon with no hesitation; this brave figure eventually succumbed to the temptation of the darkness and was renowned for his fall into sorrow, for wielding the deadliest firearm and for the various sins he has committed, including my demise. The noble man's name was Ròidh Fallen.

The greatest gunslinger and the first known owner of the Fallen’s Vow, his trusty sidearm. Wielding incredible power, Ròidh Fallen’s leadership managed to create a mighty stronghold that protected survivors and boasted warriors, but despite the successes of his lands and its protectors, Ròidh grew weary of the fragile situation that humanity found itself in.

I am one of the few people who truly met Ròidh Fallen as Ròidh Fallen. But looking back I surmise that maybe it was supposed to go this way, the real Ròidh taught me that everything has an end, whether it is happy or not. It was the fall of the shining and the brightest light, and the rise of the darkest shadow I would ever know.

To hell with that Shadow.

What mattered to me was Ròidh.

I cannot talk to him anymore. I'm already full of agony and fear. I've seen the great heavens, I've watched the angels glitter in the dark sky near the closed gates - and for what, for who? People lost hope already, there's no one left to fight, they were all too weak to face the cataclysm that broke everything apart. Even now I just cannot remember what was this world. Resting in a constant struggle to keep itself alive, offering no recourse to the fertility that once teemed within the society. We became mysteries to ourselves, slowly turning into something one doesn't recognize.

I’d trade anything to live again and rethink my actions. It feels like thousands of years have passed yet I can still remember everything perfectly. Yes, the story of a gunslinger of hope into the darkness. The story of Ròidh Fallen.

Ròidh Fallen woke up in the ruins of an abandoned house during a time when humans had to fight for their lives. He didn't remember anything, he was a man with no past and no future. He eventually made his way to the sprawling refugee camps which were formed by survivors. The world at that time was in chaos, corpses were laying on the blood-soaked lands, cities were destroyed, heroes were in ruin. It was a cataclysm that has set humanity back in the past. All to end the blazing fire between two powers. Many of the survivors were praying for salvation while Factions began to form amongst the survivors. During that time, Ròidh and many others were trying to pick their faction to side with, but tension and uneasiness were created around the camps as hostilities between the Factions began to turn in another war. It didn't take too long for the refugee camp to turn into a wasteland where a multitude of Factions would go to war. Each one had different goals but the most violent Faction was Vincit (conquers). They were desperate, willing to execute anyone in order to take over the land, no one could stop them. The remaining Factions: Peregrinus, Sodalitas, and Vociferor could do nothing but wait for their imminent demise. It took two days to take over half of the refugee camps. Me and Ròidh saw the Factions and the conflicts as a threat to our paths. I chose to side with the Factions because I had no other choice, but Ròidh didn't care, I watched him from my tent as he stole a revolver like it was nothing and then headed on the fields towards Magistrate Leonard Stark's territory, Vincit's most infamous murderer and cruelest dictator. I was really curious because to me it seemed like Ròidh knew what he was doing. He was determined. So I followed him and when I got close, Ròidh turned around and gave me an intimidating look, it was the very first time when I had the chance to interact with the gunslinger:

"Will you fight them?" I asked him calmly

"Those corrupted men?" he spoke slowly and clearly

"Those who have taken up arms to decimate us," I said

"Don't get the wrong idea, I don't want to help any of you, I'm just on my own," Ròidh confessed tilting his head to the right and glaring right into my eyes

"Do you believe that will make a difference?"

Ròidh did not answer. He stayed silent for three seconds and then turned around, finally freeing me from his intimidating sight.

"No."

"Then what are you planning to do?"

"What needs to be done." Ròidh declared as he marched forward

Ròidh seemed serious about it. I wanted to stop him from doing it, but now, looking back, I realized that I actually didn't want to. He was something I couldn't comprehend, and yet I felt I understood him the moment I talked to him. As ash kept falling from the grey sky, where no trace of the sun and its rays could be seen, Ròidh kept advancing on the plain muddy land. After a while, we found ourselves surrounded by the cold-blooded members of Vincit. Seven soldiers armed to the teeth were approaching. Seven guns trained on our heads. Seven cold hearts awaiting the order. Behind them, the devil himself was giving us a sly look, Leonard Stark was pleased with himself. Ròidh Fallen stood in silence, I was behind him. Stark stepped forward and glared at Ròidh.

"And what are ye doing 'ere, son?" he spoke with venom, "This is not yer home."

Everyone else was still. Quiet. Including me.

Stark kept taunting and mocking Ròidh, but he didn't look like he cared. I could see his steady hand slowly reaching for the pistol fixed to his hip. My concern slowly faded away.

"This is my land! Our land!" Stark was shouting out loud now. He was going to teach Ròidh a lesson.

Ròidh spoke clearly and calmly: "No. Not anymore."

Leonard started laughing scornfully. He had seven men on his side.

"Those gonna be yer last words then, son?" Stark sneered

Right then, my eyes were illuminated by Ròidh's action. His movement was a flash, quick as lighting, like a brilliant shock of white forking forwards into Leonard's forehead. One-shot, one kill.

Ròidh Fallen spoke as he moved: "Yours. Not mine."

Smoke trailed from Ròidh's revolver as Stark's body fell quickly to the ground. Everyone was staring at the black hole located on his forehead. Slowly, the armed soldiers were lowering their aim.

And like that, the rest of my life began. I admired Ròidh from then on. I began talking to him and eventually, we became close friends, almost like brothers. And life was good. Being the only life I could remember, and it wasn’t easy. Filled by loss as it was but I would call it good.

Until it wasn’t.