TWS: New story? Whoa? Still not sure when I'm gonna continue IM though soooo...

The full story behind this chapter: Juliette is found by Adam and Kenji, who are not a part of Warner's group of soldiers, and bring her to Omega Point. After months of getting used to her new life and forgetting everything that happened to her, she decides to join the war that was happening in the different sectors with her team (Adam, Kenji, Ian, Lily, Alia, Brendan, Winston and the twins). When she hears about the war going on at Sector 45, her sector, she decides to go there and find the man responsible for all the wars, especially since she learned that this man may be someone she once knew. She then meets Warner and the two decide to form an allegiance together in order to stop Anderson.

WARNING: PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE FAINT HEARTED. It's not a trigger warning or anything, but there might be some details that wouldn't be suitable for some people. Some parts contain scenes wherein people and animals are killed, and I'm pretty sure not everyone wants to see that yeah.

Disclaimer: You know.

Chapter 6: The Beginning

The world ends today.

Aaron Warner is left alone to watch as death scatters all over the village like a wildfire in a forest. He watches as men, women, children flee from their homes, horror and anguish burning in their eyes as the lives they once had were burned down, taken away from them, and had been shoved into a whole new life that they did not wish to have. Some of them watched as their loved ones were taken away from them, their screams breaking even the toughest of glass. Some watched as their loved ones screamed for them, wishing for things that nobody will ever know. But the world always had a twisted sense of philosophies in its book.

You die, and everything else dies with you. They will not see the way you saw things, nor will they ever think about the things you thought. Nobody has the courage to enter a dead man's thoughts.

None of these things were new to Aaron Warner either. Guns, blood, pleas for help — things that he experiences everyday in his life. The line between cruelty and everything else shifts and blurs, and every detail of violence becomes nothing but a faint memory.

(It's expected coming from him. From a man who knew how to hold a gun first before learning how to write.)

The deprived crowd runs toward a path where they believe to be a new form of solace, only to be met by a hundred men in black and white uniforms, rifles settled comfortably in those men's hands. They are no less equivalent to machines controlled by one creator; heartless men, whom in their years of service, have lost all sense of emotion and individuality, empty shells that are products designed by war and death. It's an incontrovertible fate, yet none find the time to complain as barricades block the pathway and those who rebel are taken down.

What a cruel world they live in, he thinks. We live in.

Several feral dogs appear from nowhere, lunging forward as they tackle the barricade of men.

One dog bites a man's leg, and the others follow.

The men raise their guns and aim. Fire.

Aaron Warner watches as blood spurts out of each dog — as, one by one, they all fall, whimpering as death takes over their small bodies. Their blood becomes indistinguishable as it fuses with the blood of others.

The sound of the guns' recoil means nothing to his ears now, nor do the yelps and screams that fill his senses. All sharp and raspy and broken, devoid of hope and happiness as each note slashes through clean flesh. A shattered orchestra that reminds him of Death's song.

It's a song that he'll never get tired of hearing.

Not that he had a choice to avoid this kind of fate.

Aaron Warner never intended for these things to happen, more so to him, yet he knew he had no option but to follow blindly as his father wanted him to. He was the son of one of 7 divisions of the world, with the objective of leading a fraction of his army to Omega Point, a desolated town that refuses to be a part of any Sector, and to eradicate every living being that resided there.

War over such meaningless things. Violence only results in more violence, but his father had already been to blinded by power to see behind everything. Anyone would do whatever they are capable of in order to gain an incredulous amount of power such as the one his father had. Even if it meant killing the one they loved.

Aaron Warner would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night, his own screams echoing throughout his room. It was nothing compared to the screams of the people whose lives he had to take away, but it never made him think less about anything. On most nights he'd dream about the man he once recognized as his own flesh and blood.

He was in a small blue house that smelled of comfort and love. He never identified with the place itself, but he wished that he was living there rather than his own cage of a room. He would walk up the flight of stairs, reaching a hallway that only led to one room.

Sometimes he'd try to turn back and run away from that place, but his body never coordinated.

Then he would open the door, eyes poking through the small space as he watches his father plunge a knife into a woman's chest repeatedly, her blood and his demented laugh decorating the white walls of the room. He would gasp, and his father would turn around and say in the eeriest voice: "Welcome home, son."

And he'd wake up with sweat covering his entire body, thankful that nightmares, no matter how close to reality they really are, will only stay there. But it was also a reminder that his life is a bleak place. No hope, no happiness, no chance for a new-

"Hey!"

The voice eats his previous thoughts away and pulls him to the present. He turns around, and his breath stops.

Juliette Ferrars

His eyes meet hers, and he thinks that he's just put himself in a very dangerous position.

There's anger in her eyes, coated with an undying determination and hope for something... something he doesn't know.

It's her, he thinks. It's really her.

Juliette Ferrars. The girl whom he had once spent his childhood with. The girl who showed him that life was simply more than just what he was experiencing now. She gave him that speck of hope that he always held on to; it was the only thing keeping him sane.

It's the girl he's always dreamt about, on nights when his mind would be at peace.

His first and only love.

His brain is processing so many things at once, turning and shifting into different directions as his mind flashes memory after memory of this young woman who was once a small little girl. That small little girl who always had a smile on her face despite the treatment she had to endure from everyone around her.

(In truth, it had always confused him as to why they feared/hated her. It was an unusual response to such an innocent child. He had spent most of his younger years with her, yet it never really gave him any problems.)

Every dream of her that he had, he would see her standing atop a hill stained with dirt. Her clothes are covered with blood, but he ois made aware by his own mind that it is not her own, and her eyes eyes glisten with something he really couldn't define. Hate? Fear? Pain?

He doesn't really know why he dreams of her, and what she means to him, but he knows that an opportunity such as this mustn't waste itself. 10 years changes a person, and he plans on figuring out how those 10 years have changed her.

He takes a deep breath and lets his feet take him to where the girl he once knew is.

I should kill her, he thinks. She might be one of the people of Omega Point. If not, then she might just be a hindrance to the task

But you won't do that, his mind says otherwise.

She's a stranger, he thinks.

Yet you're still calling her your first love, it replies.

I should kill her.

Yet, it says, you're already walking towards her.

His smile is sincere, any hint of deceit or betrayal undetectable, as he calmly approaches the young woman, both hands tucked in the pocket of his slacks. He watches as she slides her gun back into the holster attached to her belt, her eyes never leaving him.

"Who are you?" She chokes out, and the sudden movement makes her flinch. Her wounds must be more painful than she thought. "What are you doing just standing there? Are you waiting for something or what?"

"Not really, no," he replies, "though I could say the same to you and your friends." He glances at the two men beside her. The taller one gives him a nod of acknowledgement and grins — this person knows who I am, Warner thinks — while the other just glares at him, as if wanting to shred him to pieces. Warner grins at the dark-haired boy, "I think he's taken a liking to me."

"We," she continues, ignoring her team mate's remark, "are looking for the man who's been destroying the different sectors and murdering the innocent people who lived there." The girl looks around the shredded town, at the soldiers standing several feet behind the man in front of her. It doesn't take her a minute to figure out why they haven't shot her and her team yet. Not with this person standing in front of us.

"But it seems we've found him."

"Interesting," Warner says, eyes clouded with amusement. "I'm sure you're relieved that my men haven't killed you yet. It's rare chance for a second life, really. You should probably thank me."

A cocky bastard, isn't he, she thinks. "I should probably not. I'd rather be dead than be given a chance at freedom by a man who killed my friends," she remarks, "I don't like it when people show sympathy towards me just because I was a girl."

"Who said I was?"

"Who said you weren't?" she replied, a smirk forming her lips. She tilts her head slightly, and scans him with her eyes. Such resistance would've gotten her killed, and Kenji and Adam are highly aware of that fact, which is why the two men beside her seem flummoxed; they were not aware of the fact that she and this boy standing in front of her had a sort of history together. The way they talk to each other becomes an unspoken sign of familiarity between them. It's an odd feeling to meet the boy you once spent your childhood days with, especially if that boy was someone who still had a certain place in your heart.

Just looking at him was enough to make her head feel fuzzy.

She coughs. "We should be killing each other right now, defending my home and all..."

"But...?"

"But I think we are already too old to play these kinds of games." She extends her hand to him. "My name is Juliette Ferrars."

"Warner," he replies. He wonders if he's made a mistake, if meeting her again would be good to him or if it'd only be the root cause of his own downfall.

It's been so many years since they parted ways that it was impossible not to notice the slightly stiff atmosphere between them. There are shadows in her eyes that he has never seen before, and it only makes him want to know who this new Juliette Ferrars is.

But what would happen if he let her in? Would she make him open his heart to her again? Would she let him do the same to her?

It's too late for that now, he tells himself. Whatever damage that will befall their encounter has been done, and there is no going back.

He takes her hand and shakes it.

"My name is Aaron Warner, and it's an honor to meet you again, Ms. Ferrars."

The world ends today.

But this is not about the world.

This is about mistakes.

This is about an uprising that will change the world.

This is about them.

A/n: Hooray! I did something productive for the fandom! Yay! Thank you all so much for the positive review and for never giving up on me even if I'm always usually gone in the fandom. I've been so busy with school and all (third year is a very crucial year) and I'm still trying to catch up with a lot of things right now. I won't be continuing the path this story is taking though =u=

Anyways, thanks a lot for reading! Favourite/follow or review if you have the sudden urge to do so! It's what keeps me going~

Also, I am still planning to rewrite my Ignite Me story; I just haven't had the time to.