Deviants—horrible beasts that had terrorized mankind for over 300 years.
The origin of these creatures had always been a mystery. They suddenly appeared from massive fissures, cracks in space itself. Creatures of all shapes and sizes.
They were hostile beasts with little to no intelligence and, for some reason, targeted humans almost exclusively.
Yet they never strayed far from the fissures from which they emerged. They were always around the same area.
To survive and fight back, humans with special abilities—known as Talents—began to band together, forming groups or factions.
After the first successful raid of a deviant horde, it was discovered that the bodies and cores of these beasts could be used for many things, most notably weapons.
And thus, Deviant Gears were born.
With these powerful weapons and the Talents humans now possessed, hunting Deviants became faster, more efficient, and safer.
"Dead?"
"This… this has to be a joke." Wyatt's eyes were wild with shock.
"HEY! WHAT KIND OF SICK JOKE IS THIS?"
"SISTER LUCY! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!"
Wyatt screamed like a madman. It had to be a mistake. There was no way Annalise was dead. Right? Right??
About half an hour later…
"Sister Lucy, Sister Lucy!" a young reverend sister called after her.
"What shall we do, Sister Lucy? Wyatt won't stop screaming. At this rate, he will injure his own larynx," the younger sister said, worry etched in her voice.
Sister Lucy simply scoffed and quickened her pace, leaving the young sister baffled.
"LET ME OUT!"
Desperate, heavy bangs echoed on the steel doors of purgatory. Wyatt had hit the door so many times that his hands were now bleeding.
"LET ME OUT! PLEASE! PLEASE!" he begged, his voice raw.
The sister outside stood silently, sadness in her eyes.
Even if he is a demon, no child deserves this.
"Annalise…" His voice fell low. He slid to the floor, back against the door.
"Annalise…" His voice cracked again.
She's not dead. Wyatt wiped his tears and lunged at the door again. Denial and determination flashed in his eyes. She can't be.
"Open this door, please, Sister Doris." Wyatt pleaded. Sister Doris was the kindest person in the orphanage. She had never actively helped him, but at least she never hurt him.
"I'm sorry, Wyatt." Sister Doris' voice trembled. "It was confirmed this morning… Annalise… is dead."
"Shut up." He lowered his voice.
"Excuse me?" Sister Doris blinked, shocked. She had not expected such a response.
"SHUT UP, YOU LIAR!" Wyatt's voice rose again, sharp and laced with anger.
"SISTER LUCY PUT YOU UP TO THIS, DIDN'T SHE? DIDN'T SHE?" Wyatt was rabid.
"TELL HER SHE WON, ALRIGHT? TELL HER I GIVE UP! TELL HER…" His voice cracked.
"Tell her to stop it, please." He was sobbing now.
"I'm sorry, Wyatt," Sister Doris said softly. "But I swear on my faith… she's gone."
The phrase "I swear on my faith" was a sacred oath for the reverend sisters, their ultimate testament of truth.
And that confirmed it for Wyatt. She was truly gone.
Sister Doris winced at his cries. Murderer or not, no child should endure this much pain.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH…" Wyatt screamed, cried, begged—yet nothing could ease the anguish burning in his heart.
Sobs, sobs…
He clutched his chest so tightly that blood oozed through his fingers.
Why her? Why Annalise? Why did God have to…
God.
"God… God, if you can hear me, I hate you…" His voice shook violently. "I hate you… so much."
The steel doors of purgatory opened, but Wyatt didn't flinch.
Sister Lucy stepped inside, back to him, her expression unreadable.
"Leave us." She commanded the sister who opened the door.
"Are you sure, Sister? What if he attacks—"
"Leave us." Sister Lucy cut her off coldly.
The hesitant sister left, and Sister Lucy finally turned to face Wyatt, a wide, cruel smile on her face.
"Oh, Wyatt." The amusement in her voice was crystal clear.
Wyatt looked up, confused. Why was she smiling?
"Now you truly are alone," she said, her smile widening. "Like the little monster you are, you've finally killed every single person who loved you—your parents, Annalise, every. Single. One." Her voice was steady, calm.
Pain, grief, sadness—none of these compared to the intensity of what he felt now.
Anger.
"You… you…" His hands gripped his hair.
"You… you… you… you… you…" Wyatt screamed, over and over.
Sister Lucy noticed the locket around his neck glowing bright red. Her smile faltered.
And then… it caught fire.
The crimson-red locket erupted in flames, engulfing Wyatt.
As Sister Lucy stepped closer, purgatory exploded around him.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" Wyatt screamed, writhing in agony. "Help me! Sister Lucy!!" Flames restrained him, preventing him from reaching out.
The sounds of his screams carried across the orphanage, but before anyone could comprehend what was happening…
Boom!
The entire orphanage, along with every living thing inside, erupted in flames.
Wyatt writhed in the center, moving like a man possessed. Never in his miserable life had he felt this much pain.
"IT HURTS! IT HURTS SO MUCH! MAKE IT STOP! SOMEONE HELP ME! ANNALISE!" he cried, screamed—but no one answered. No one was alive.
Finally…
The flames subsided. Wyatt collapsed to the ground, charred and burnt to a crisp.
And it wasn't just him. Every soul, every building—reduced to ash. Blood-orange sky raining ash upon the ruined land.
Step… step… step…
Footsteps approached the smoldering ruins, drawing closer to Wyatt's broken form.
"I knew that foul presence came from you," a voice echoed. "No wonder everyone who cared for you died."
"You really are a demon orphan, aren't you?" Sister Lucy stood before him, unharmed, watching as Wyatt's body healed at an alarming speed.
"I should have killed you from the start." Her expression was one of pure disgust.