Spoiler: Prologue: into the fire Continuous waves of heat spread all around a lone figure, the figure was lying on its back motionless. To a casual observer, the humanoid figure will definitely appear dead, but taking a closer look, the continuous streams of sweat that leaked out of his pores will indicate otherwise. The figure's mind came on, it came on slowly, booting up like an old computer. After a minute or two of lying motionless still, the figure's mind still failed to give a fleeting insight into its owner's personality. All it could come up with, is the owner's gender. Yes, the figure lying forlorn and sweating like a pig in what appears to be no man's land is a male. A male....that's all. Age, name, even the recollection of his own voice all proved to be as elusive as vapor. His eyes remained shut, his brows knitting in frustration as he tried to cull up those memories, but the burning sensation that was all around him is proving to be too much of a distraction. His fuzzy mind that was vaguely aware of the ambient heat he was in has began to grasp the full reality of his predicament. His body began to scream, but his dry lips stayed shut, not that he could even vocalize his pain anyways, his throat felt so dry and parched that he's sure that his screams would only sound like scratched paper. Since his memory has failed him, and the burning questions about who he is are unanswerable at the moment, he decided to concentrate all of his energy into the way more profitable venture of asking the ones that he could answer. First and foremost, where the fuck is he?, and how on earth did he even get here? He'll have to answer them one at a time tho, and his shut eyes finally sprang open. He could feel the multiple beads of sweat roll down his nose and cheeks. But somehow, the profuse amount of sweat that he was producing, evaporate before they can even spend two seconds on his skin. The first images that his alarmed brown eyes noticed, is the steam of the evaporating sweat from his own body. It was a horrifying sight, and now he really began to panic. Maybe he's in hell, slowly roasting away from all his sins. But what sins?, he can't even remember his own name! Aren't the roasting sinners in hell supposed to remember their multiple sins?. Besides, he feels alive...or at least feels as if he's still on earth. Its a very weird feeling that he can't explain, but his gut tells him that he's still on earth. But why is he not roasting or getting a scald from all this madly hot steam from his own sweat?, why is he even still alive?. All this and more questions coupled with the deep searing pain that engulfed his very consciousness drove him madly insane. His body began to jerk violently ,wherever he is, its barely illuminated, and from the solid and rigid pressure that he felt all over his back, he knows that its most likely made of metal. In panic, he sat up like a puppet that had its string jerked violently, but the moment he rose halfway, he felt a searing hot bump on his forehead. A very loud hiss followed, as more steam oozed out of the forehead like smoke from a cigarette butt. He heard a savage guttural and scratchy sound....it took him a few seconds to realize that the primal vocalization came from him. His throat, parched or not had given in to the primal urge to yell his heart out when he got a fantastic burn from whatever metallic object that smacked his head right back to the ground where it got boiled over some more. Is this it?, he'll die in some metallic, roasting coffin with no recollection of his name?, who he is or what he's done to deserve such torture?. He was losing his mind, his body thrashing violently, and the scratchy screams becoming more constant as pain raged through his very heart with no end in sight. Then he heard laughter...actually a group of laughs, they all sounded triumphant and cruel. He began to wonder once more what terrible acts he's done to deserve this horrible fate. By now he was desperately wishing for death, but his skin seemed to suffer absolutely no harm from the devastating heat....he's trapped....trapped in the coffin, trapped in this torture. The realization brought bitter tears to his eyes, its one thing to suffer for what you're aware of, its another thing entirely to suffer when you can't even remember your own name. Meanwhile,outside the metallic coffin-like structure, a group of people listened with glee as the bitter cries rang out from the steaming coffin. Mugs clanked, people talked excitedly and everyone seemed to be happy about this mindless torture. But things changed in a hurry. It began with a piercing scream, then it deepened into what sounds like a terrifying roar. The once happy people were struck dumb with shock as the ground began to tremble violently...people scampered to safety, leaving the coffin to vibrate for a few seconds, before being bust wide open. Eyes widened in shock and stared at the beast that emerged...not your typical horror movie character, no horns or wings and fangs. Only a skin that had become completely red with dark veins bulging and pulsing in a powerful intimidating rhythm. Eyes that can best be described as a pair of glowing red orbs. The figure stared maliciously at the shocked and crestfallen faces that amassed before him. He inhaled the endless steam that wafted from all over his body. His usually short and spiky dark hair had gained a wild and long appearance. The memories suddenly came back...who he is, the things he's done, and why he's here. Despite recalling many terrible things that he has done, his eyes remained hardened with the flames of revenge burning brightly in them. Then to everyone's shock, he slowly reduced in size, his skin reverting to the usual golden brown and his appearance becoming that of a troubled and quite striking young man. He jumped off the ruins of the ruined coffin and simply walked away with his head bowed, and sweat still streaming down his shirtless back. He has one thought and one thought only. Find the mirror of fate and separate this evil entity from his being.