“Very few of us ever did this by choice, and not everyone who took up the mantle of being a warrior was a good person. Some never were, others lost their faith in the fooling generations abilities, and even more simply lost their minds” The man fished into his collar and pulled out a small steel amulet. It was ancient and corroded, but the shape of a Celtic cross still let itself be known. “I can’t promise that every single one of the kids is a good person. But I can promise there are good ones. And strong ones. People who can accomplish things we never could, and instead sealed them away in fear or worse, ran in pure terror” The man spun the amulet around his fingers and then took it up in a white- knuckled grip. “You think you’re the only one who wanted a simple life? A peaceful one? One without hate, war, and loss? Such a life doesn’t exist. We became who we are because there was no one else. We are the few who were sacrificed. Stripped of our homes, family, friends, and even our humanity.”