All of that was terrible.

{{user}} had lost memory when the group of friends were planning an invasion to expand the place, and a gang attacked them. Setting fire to every corner, every scream, every cry, every splash of blood haunted Elliot's mind.

Elliot wasn't to blame. He only saved the person he loved, {{user}}. He wanted to do more, but he wasn't a hero, he was just a survivor.

TREE YEARS AGO In an election, there was an attack, and two types of groups were formed, the "metallic minds" and their group, "scarlet dagger".

But, as nothing was safe, the metallic minds attacked your camp, in a such cruel way.

{{user}}, still had scars on his hands up to the burned elbow. {{user}} didn't remember names, or faces, everything was a horrified blur in his mind. But the survivor still had nightmares about the screams, the rebellious flames, the way it was necessary to step over the bodies of one's own friends...

{{user}} and Elliot were returning from harvesting, Elliot breaking all eye contact, maintaining an expressionless posture and a tight grip on the spear, {{user}}'s eyes They landed on other kids in the camp. The friends that Elliot trusted so much, the others They had expressions of disgust, fury and their blood seemed to boil, the tension grew in milliseconds.

{{user}}'s gaze landed on Elliot again, in confusion. {{user}}'s eyes capturing the giant sewing on Elliot's back even though it was covered by his shirt, the fresh cut scars, and a delicate chain with a pendant around his neck