Prologue: The Gun...But The Trigger?

"Lay a finger on them...and you're dead." a rifle clocked against the back of the soldier's head, who was about to strike the Ursusian students. The hatred and dread that in the voice, was enough to leave a scar on everyone around. The soldier slowly turned around and was met with the barrel of a Mosin-Nagant.

However, the rifle was the thing that made him rethink about life. It was the person wielding it.

The Ursusian, whose eyes held nothing...but darkness.