<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000"> Vega's childhood could not have been more perfect. He grew up in a loving family mainly consisting of women, they managed to be happy despite the absence of his father. Yet at his seventeenth birthday, everything went to shit when he returned home from celebrations to his family, slaughtered across his floor. Everyone refused to tell him what had happened despite his pleas, every single day he asked and investigated on his own with no luck. Yet finally the day he reached eighteen years of age, the village they all lived him brought him into the town hall, and proclaimed his family was killed by the remaining rogue witches around the area. This, was nothing but a bold lie told with a heavy heart. The truth of the matter was that the village had suspected that since Vega's family was mainly women, they were all descendant of witches. <br/>
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That doubt, the fear alone propelled them to kill innocent women in their sleep, without warning or discretion. But no, they were too cowardice to admit their mistake, to tell the truth to their one son, their one brother that had his own heart carved out of his chest at the sight. Six years have passed since the day of his family's death, and every single day since then he did nothing but practice, train in the way of the sword, the only weapon known to be able to kill witches immediately, without spells or ineffective guns. His life now had one purpose, and one purpose alone; To become the world's greatest Witch hunter, so that he could extract his pain and revenge on every single woman of their race. Perhaps then, they would feel equal pain.<br/>
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As fate would have it, Vega had just made his way into New York just as the sunset was beginning to roam over the city. The shadow of the night began to slowly take over the streets, the lights along the roads flickering open one right after the other. Nothing, or no one was near Vega at the time, everyone seemed to avoid a hooded man with a knife hidden under his clothesâ¦for good reason. Suddenly, a crumpled piece of paper landed right infront of his feet, followed by a woman stomping her feet in anger. His brow raised playfully when her skirt was raised as she stomped, revealing a little bit more than she would have liked, yet she didnât seem to care. He leaned down and picked up the piece of paper in curiosity, trying to open it only struck fear into his eyes, anxiousnessâ¦adrenaline. <br/>
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This map wasnât currentâ¦nor did it belong to humans, a witchâ¦right there in the city. Was she insane? He thought to himself, why in the blue hell would a witch venture into the city, it made absolutely no sense. He slipped out of the shadows, and slowly began trailing the witches footsteps, stalking her like a lion would his prey, never letting her leave his sight, not for a moment. All his questions and doubts were confirmedâ¦ right in front of him she had just entranced a man to tell her whatever she needed. The man was blessed by the gods, throwing him his prey right infront of him so he can extract his rightful vengeance, so he can avenge his fallen with one more struck down witch. <br/>
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