2085: Shinhwa Public Middle School

“Loser!”

The man watches as the boy gets beaten up, taking blow after blow. He stands in the shadows as he watches the boy cower in fear, his eyes large and rounded, his body pressed up against the rough brick wall.

From first impression, there really does seem to be nothing wrong with the boy. He looks just as normal as the rest. A young, bright, spirited kid with a chance of a glowing future just like anybody else. But on second look, one would be able to see the boy had slightly large ears. Not that they were huge or anything, but perhaps seemed to be a little pointed and oddly shaped. But to the man, the boy still looked quite charming. He was, the man concluded, a gentle boy.

“Dumbo!”

The poor thirteen year old kept silent as the larger, older boys continued their violent assault on him. The man knew the boy did nothing wrong. The man knew that the boy was innocent. But yet, like every other scenario, the good man was the weak man. He failed to fight back, and he just let himself be bullied, pushed around by the rest. But if there was one thing the boy didn’t do, it was to cry. Even after bearing all the physical pain, and the mental and emotional torture, not a single tear dropped from his eyes. They called for help, they were screaming with emotion. And there were pools in them. But he fought the urge to let them fall.

And as much as the man wanted to help, he knew better.

Every single one of the blows the boy took would make him stronger. Every word that hurt, crushed and pained him was a weapon. Every hit and punch was a of power.

For the man knew that the phrase was so much more than it seemed.

What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.

2085: HQ

“I have seen the future.”

“Oh, I’m sure you have.”

The woman snorted in sarcasm as the man swiveled his chair around to face her.

“Don’t get all bratty with me now, dear.”

The woman let a chuckle escape her lips as she dropped her body onto one of the black leather couches.

“How was your day today Professor?”

“Quite unusual, I must say. I have encountered a most interesting glimpse into our near future.”

She looked up from cleaning her glimmering sword, her prized possession. The edges had been coated with diamond, making it both sharp and hard as ever. She put it aside and dusted her long, manicured fingers.

“What do you see?”

This time, it was his turn to chuckle.

“Why don’t you have a look for yourself?”

2090: Unknown

There was nothing but a barren wasteland. It was dark, cold, dreary. Two opposing sides stood across each other. One, dressed in black, the other, white. Black represented what society deemed the darker side, the bad side. And white, the good. The two stood across each other, their guards up and weapons ready. The white held their guns, they had tanks and machines. They had bombs and bullets. They wore bulletproof vests and masks. The black, on the other hand, held nothing but each other’s hands. They were unarmed, with no weapons but themselves. They had fire in their eyes, a burning passion in their hearts. Their faces showed no nerves, no signs of hesitation or fear. They were strong. They were united. Under the gleam of the moon, the white stood out, bright and eye-catching