The only thing he could see are whiteness in his field of vision. There are no animals, no rocks, no plants, no land, and also...no people...He's not sure how long he was seeing this nor how he had end up in this field. All that he could see...is white...he tried blinking a few times to see if he was in a trance...drugged...hypnotic...or maybe he just drank too much...Well...if he is experiencing such things like this...he would've been born differently as a normal person...a person who was born normal eyes...

But hey, he could care less about that, things like those didn't matter to him. He never asked to live normal in the first place..he was simply be born as a thing you called, "one-of-a-kind"...the power to see through anything/everything. He was born by some far away galaxy that the author could think of any names other than the galaxy. He takes or perhaps "choose" to awaken as an appearance of a man with eccentric character and a sense of humor. Who traveled far and wide or was maybe working on his footwork jumping on asteroid belts wondering if he ever has a purpose in his life...or was it that he existed just on a whim...regardless, he never ponders too much into it. He's a guy who simply just "go with the flow".

But you know how that ended. It's inevitable that you would get the looks about almost everyone, different people, different cultures, different species doesn't make any difference. He was a complete anomie, vastly different from anybody/everyone else would never accept him much less that they call this person a..."thing"...rather than "him"... Even if he had "friends", they couldn't be with him forever. He was never much of a social guy since he couldn't care less about talking to anybody. that he considers them to be 'important' to him. Even if he's branded as a killer, a tyrant, a criminal, an outcast, or a monster to the world or to the universe he would never stop on protecting those that are important to him in his own way. If there were such people that were different, he might consider as someone to protect and maybe being with someone special even on their deathbeds. It never bothered him to be looked at with such things nor request any cooperation saying "I'm fine...because I never asked..." as it is conventional to him for his everyday life. Besides, he never wanted to bring a baggage with him anyways. Living through a life as a wanderer to be much more than such trivial terms of "abnormal", "unnatural", and "inhuman"...The life fighting on constant battlefields for survival...fighting, killing, walking off, it's all the same to him...he wouldn't be surprised at all if every weapons were pointed against him as such a threat to their own survival.

He chuckled quietly thinking about those things. When those guns were pointed at his face, there wasn't any fear on his face at all, no, there was only dull eyes directed towards them. It's not that he was broken, it was pity. The natural reaction how every people would witness about his existence to what he's capable of. Fear. It was getting so old that he never bothered what their fear was coming from somewhere preeeetty obvious.

For him to ponder such thoughts in his mind, he hears footsteps resonating around his field. He sighs in disbelief to convince whether or not he has the effort to look up in curiosity or just lay there without a care in the world. He decides to look up since he doesn't have anything better to do other than looking at a white space with nothing on it. He witness a shadowy figure, although its distinctive doesn't appear to be solidifying as to expected, the figure appears to be static like a pencil that is scribbled of a figure shaking up and down, side-by-side. As the figure draws close to him, it starts to speak.

"Hey..." is the first word the figure says looking at him in a faceless head. He projects his in a hollow sound that ripples out like a water drop rippling in a pond. He never found this figure to be strange at all since he is accustomed to events that are "supernatural". However it is perplexing for a figure to appear in a middle of nowhere. 'Am I being hallucinated?' he thought.

"You don't belong anywhere, do you...?" this perks up his head looking at the figure in a stoic face.

"You were never born from a family nor that you lived with anyone that cares for you...but you managed to survive on your own without relying on anyone...so I'll be asking simple question for you..." the figure stated to him as he could probably know what he would be asking that drags him throughout his life.

"Just what purpose is there for you to exist when there is no one who accepts you?" this question always dig deep into his thoughts as he lowers his head in silence and everything fades into black...thus starting his story...