"Lets rock baby!"

"Every story has a beginning and also an end."
"Most stories, one triumphs above all others."
"A hero rises while all else fails and saves the world from darkness."
"Good over comes evil; light over comes the dark."
"In most stories, everybody wants a happy ending."
"But, not every story has those."
"And this is one of them."
"The day he was born was the day darkness reigns over all."
"His own hands sent many souls to the afterlife and even more will soon follow."
"His sins may never be forgiven."
"Even after learning the chaos and destruction he has caused."
"He may never get the choice to be set free"
"But this is his story."
"And, this will end the way he wants it to."

Darkness—nothing but the pitch-blackness from the solar eclipse engulfs the land. A lone figure kneels on the highest tower overlooking the kingdom city. His trench coat moves against his body like a living wave by the strong gust of winds. In a brief second, he leaps off the tower into the night sky—only his outline is visible but not even the naked eye can see him right now.

The figure quietly lands on a nearby building's roof, which is only a third mile down from the tower, and continues running. He sees soldiers wielding a standard rifle and sword casually keeping watch of the kingdom city and they are unaware of his presence within the vicinity. Using what he knows, the intruder makes his way through the kingdom city from the so-call Invincible Walls and is now within walking distance of the central palace.

The solar eclipse is almost gone as the lone figure is perch on the palace outer walls and looks for any possible entrance. The figure hops off, lands on the ground, and runs swiftly through the front yard of the palace, passing the many bush arts of objects, and people. As he passes the soldiers, the force of his speed blows wind around them and it only causes them to look around—only to find nothing.

The second he reaches the palace, he jumps upward, landing on an extension of the palace and uses those to continue up the palace walls. On the sixth floor, he lands on a thin railing, which is only half of an inch wide, and quietly drops down. He looks towards the horizon seeing the orange reddish ring—the corona, as the moon blocks the morning sun.

The figure raises his right hand and grabs a handle of his weapon that is sticking above his shoulder. He slowly pulls it and slides the blade out of its sheath. He slowly brings it down as the blade gives off an unusual shiny reflective surface, which no light is reflecting off of it. The figure now walks through the archway's entrance into the place and into one of the royal bedchambers.

He makes his way through the room and navigates around the furniture that one has in their room of such high social status. He finally comes to a stop right by the side of the large bed and sees somebody occupying the bed under the covers. He raises his right arm up, having the blade pointing downward and then clutches the hilt with both of his hands.

The moon finally begins to uncover the sun—unleashing light upon the world bit by bit. The dark mysterious figure stands motionless with his weapon aiming directly at the heart of the body sleeping soundlessly in the bed. Countless seconds went by, and the morning sunlight finally shoots through the archway as the figure finally plunges the blade downward.

The body turns onto its back so the front is showing and he is now able to see whom he is about to assassinate. The tip of his weapon immediately stops barely above the chest as his eyes widen seeing a young beautiful girl. He watches quietly as her eyes slowly open, now able to see her almond shape eyes and the brown irises staring right back at him.

She watch him withdraws his blade and jumps back toward the open archway leading to the outside balcony. Realizing what is happening—she bolts up into a sitting position, looks at the person, and uses one of her hands to move her black hair back behind one of ears. She squint her eyes and looks at the motionless stranger, seeing that he has white hair that arches down his head and covers the top portion of his eyes.

The way she is looking at him and the way he is standing there with the morning sunlight outlining him, it is like he is an angel. It is the most beautiful sight she has ever seen in her entire life and she smiles, as the mysterious stranger still stands motionless at the archway. She slides her legs out of the bed and onto the floor as she walks toward the person.

He watches her get out of the bed and reaches out for him but decides that he has to continue his job another time. He steps back from her reach and turns around running towards the balcony's edge, jumping over the railing. The figure closes his eyes, and then reopens them landing on the ground and runs through the garden.

The young female runs to the railing seeing this mysterious stranger has jump over it. She places her hands on it and leans forward as she looks down. She spots him standing on the palace's outer walls and is looking directly at her. She blushes turning around thinking, and then turns back around seeing that he is gone now. She pouts, and reluctantly returns back to her bed, throwing her blankets over her head—hiding herself from the light.

The white hair figure leans against the other side of the palace's outer walls and sighs. He put his hands in his trench coat pockets and begins walking down the street. He cautiously closes his eyes and thinks about what just happened. He has never failed any missions so why did he hesitate when he saw her? Better yet, what is this feeling that is affecting his whole body?

The white hair figure lazily opened his eyes, and was now starring at the blend wooden ceiling of the inn that he was staying at. He had his hands resting underneath his head and was using them as an extra support for his head as he continued staring. He then turned his head to the side seeing his black sleeveless trench coat on the chair with his four swords leaning against it.

"It was the same dream," he dreamingly told himself and then looked back at the ceiling, "Why do I keep dreaming about when I first met you?"