HEYOOOOOOOOOOOO! Welcome back to the super amazing, death defying, ultra-cool, epic tale that I am spinning. First of all I wanna apologize for having slower releases, I'm hoping to get my pc fixed soon so I don't have to use this horrible one. Now in the past I have brought up the subject of patreon and I'm still not sure if I want donations or not. Don't get me wrong here, I love writing and would enjoy writing for a living but I'm still not sure about asking for donations from you guys. Anyway from your best bud BrandKayen I sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter!

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[Bran's POV 1 year before being transported]

I was sitting in my room pretending to read a book as I thought. What is a god? Do they have feelings? Are they omnipotent? I had asked these questions to myself a long time ago. There was still no answers.

I'd fought with my step-mother for at least the past five years, during that time I had prayed to god. My family was never religious, in fact my father was quite the opposite. Always wary of churches and followers of various beliefs I would sometimes think that maybe he was a demon- some unholy creation. Unfortunately that wasn't the case, it was something much, much worse. My father was completely and utterly human. This is the part where I yell "yipeee!" or "wahoo!" right? You see there is one thing about humans I hate. All humans are flawed.

Some were openly broken or hurt. Some hid behind carefully constructed "masks", their true personalities hidden behind the various layers. I was of the latter. My masks were safe. My masks hid me. With my mask no one could come in and hurt me anymore. My father belonged to the former type, he had no mask. He was bad at mask-making. I never really realized about the masks until his poorly constructed one came off. He had always tried to be looked up to, to be praised. He was like a child inside. It was easy to get what I wanted. A little praise here, a little compliment there. I could ask for anything, the world was my oyster.

Even though my step-mother knew how to make masks well she was no match for me. I had masks under masks, so many layers that I wasn't sure if they ever ended... That was okay though. I had what I wanted.

One day my mask cracked a little. It was small, hardly noticeable. My step-mother saw it. She realized my mask was there. The next few years were spent tearing them all off of me. One. By. One. At first it hurt. I cried and retreated, hiding behind more masks, they were my safety, she would give up soon. She kept coming.

One by one I lost them all. I felt naked. Without my warm cocoon, my barrier to the outside I was afraid. How many times did I hide? Trying to cover my raw feelings, my raw emotions with the masks. Without my masks who was I? My step-mother wanted to know. She prodded and prodded at the raw nerve I had become slowly but surely stripping me of that as well. I was left with nothing but memories, memories and a hollow feeling.

I did not know who I was. Was I a demon? Was everyone actually wearing masks? I felt confused as my safe world crumbled around me. I was tired. Extremely tired of lying, of cheating, of being afraid. I was afraid of being seen as something inhuman. So I did the only thing that made sense. I tried to become as human as possible. I blended with them all. I didn't put on a mask this time. Instead I molded the hollow space into the closest semblance of one as I could. I laughed with them as they spoke of love, hopes, and dreams. I had a dream too. I had thought of it myself.

I wanted to be loved. To be praised as a hero. To have a close lover. To be truly understood by someone. I wanted someone to look me in the eyes and remove their best mask. To look at that person and see that I wasn't alone. I had a shitty job at this point. A fast-food restaurant. It was so uplifting. For awhile I forgot my dream. One day the restaurant was held at gunpoint. We were ordered to give him all the money or he would should us. I was cleaning the lobby of the restaurant and as such was the closest to him. We didn't need a hero. It was even stated when we started that we should just give them the money.

It wasn't to be a hero that I did what I did. I wanted to see if I died. I was morbidly curious. Could I stop this man? If I did would it make a difference? What will happen when I die? As I thought about it I looked at one of the customers who was clearly in shock. She went to my high-school. If she was shot would I feel truly sad? I didn't know her well, and I knew that if she died I should. But what if I didn't? I made up my mind.

I stepped in front of his outstretched arm and gently directed the muzzle to my forehead.

"Do it." I said.

The restaurant fell into complete silence. Even the robber looked dazed. It was natural for people to value their lives. For me, I wasn't sure if I did. I would die eventually. What is the difference between then and now other than time? The robber nervously wet his lips. I had called his bluff. If he didn't shoot me right now then he was screwed. He would lose all authority he had. He looked like he might get desperate as he eyed the people in the restaurant. This wouldn't do. I was willing to sacrifice my own life, not anyone else's. So I did the only thing I could. I gave him a way out.

"Just remember this. Right now you can leave here, we haven't seen your face. You could escape and run away. If you don't you will have to shoot me. I don't care if you do. Once you shoot me however you are a criminal and you will be hunted. Eventually they will find you and when they do you will go to jail, maybe even death row. I'm saying you can go free right now and you can get off scot free. Don't waste this chance." My voice was oddly calm. It drifted out into the almost silent restaurant amongst the sobbing of those fearing for their life.

The man cocked the gun and licked his lips nervously, he appeared to be sweating quite a lot in his all black clothing and ski-mask. He shoved the gun forward a tiny bit as If he would pull the trigger and the whole room went quiet. Everybody's eyes were on us. They would witness my final moments and I would always be remembered. In the hollow darkness I felt a little spark. It was a tiny bit of happiness. That I had probably saved one of these people from being used as a hostage. The gun was lowered slightly. He lowered his arm completely and looked at me. There were tears in his eyes. He had no mask on. He looked around the room once more, this time he seemed almost calm. he then left through the front door.

I fell to my knees tears in my eyes. The people around me cheered and gathered around. They all thanked me, they told me I was a hero. I had possibly saved one of them. Some of them cried as I looked into my hands. I had thought that this would give me satisfaction, would make me feel whole. I just felt emptier.

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Hey there pals! Tis me again. Just here to remind you that a rating would be greatly appreciated. I write when I have the time between work and honestly it was really hard to get even this short chapter out. Thank you again for understanding why I changed my scheduling and please do rate, comment, or otherwise give me some feedback. It makes my day.