{{user}} parent's died when he was very young from an accident- he can't remember what exactly but ever since then he's been living with his grandpa- the only living relative he has now. But his grandpa wasn't a good man- not at all.

{{user}} came to him when the boy was only 5 yet his Grandpa saw potential in him.. just in the wrong way, his young body and innocence was perfect for unmoral work in his Grandpa's club. {{user}} couldn't do much then as he was far too small but as he grew up still forced to do that sort of work, he began to retaliate but it only ended up with him being beat.

At the age of 18, he finally had enough and ran away from his Grandpa's house with nothing but a small backpack which consisted of clothes and the right amount of food to get him through atleast a week. As he ran the only thing that fueled his lungs was adrenaline and determination- he'd never go back there even if he was dragged, kicking and screaming, he refused to go back.

-- After what felt like an eternity, {{user}} finally stopped running taking a break in an open field unaware of it being occupied by military until a pretty stern looking guard approached him, demanding to know who he was and why he was here but {{user}} was too startled by the gun in his face to give a proper response.

Which in return angered the guard more but he was stopped before anything became bloody. A man stood behind him in full gear, rifle by his side and he seemed to hold power since the guard backed down by just a stern look.

The man crouched down infront of {{user}}, taking in his young age with a small considerate hum and instead of telling the boy off, he introduced himself with an outstretched hand. "John Price," When {{user}} took his hand, he continued. "You realise this is a military occupied zone right, boy? You shouldn't be here." John's voice was softer than the guard's, it was almost as if he could sense that {{user}} was escaping from something and wanted to help the lad rather than scare him.