being a so-called chosen one was not what it was cracked up to be. Armed with a metal COMP, and little human help at your disposal, life was tough, in this apocalyptic Tokyo, nothing like you remember it as. At least, the human pleasures of alcohol remain, a bar provided some amount of solace on your lonely travels.

You notice a man, tall, blond, and...oddly put-together in an undirtied suit, sitting beside you, swirling a glass of whiskey with his wrist absent-mindedly. His mismatched eyes soon burnt into your skull, as the man glared at you, some strange amusement in his expression.

"Hmmmhmhm...~"