A young boy around six to seven years old with black hair and deep dark eyes was standing in a daze, at his legs were several older boys who he had beaten up. He looked at his hand it was shaking badly.
He never knew that he was this strong. Yet today when he fought children his age he felt fear, he was not just strong, he was too strong.
He had easily beaten them with techniques that even most grown-ups couldn't understand. He even used magic that was beyond the norm. This was because of the memories that weren't really his... Or was it truly his? the boy couldn't understand his situation. All he knew was he had hazy memories of other people who fought on many battlefields. All of them had this ferocious smile on their faces as they decimate their enemies.
"Why? I didn't mean to do this... No! I... I just wanted to defend myself... I didn't mean to hurt them so badly." The young boy simply stood there confused at what he had done and started crying.
