Pariah [DGM/ANE]

Prologue

I've decided to rewrite this story because I wasn't exactly happy with how I executed it. Plot points will remain the same but I will change up some stuff. ._. Sorry.

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--Prologue--
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Two years...

That's how long it had been. Two years since he had officially joined the Holy War. Holy? Ha! War was not holy. It was brutal. It was bloody. It was death. War was hell.

How many friends and enemies had fallen? How many living people had taken their last gulp of air before their soul had departed from this plane of existence? How much death could have been prevented?

Tyki, Road, Lenalee, Kanda, Miranda, Krory, Timothy... All were now freezing corpses.

Snowflakes had departed from the sky and rested on their still forms. Blood, some fresh, some not, stained the white ground red. All was silent...

Save for two people.

One laid on the ground, his costume and sword long discarded somewhere in the heat of the battle. His breathing was ragged and fast, the amount of blood pooling from the blade that was embedded into his fine clothing looked nearly too much for a human to have. His dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail from his face, his skin in it's natural Noah form with trails of blood escaping his mouth. His golden irises stared upwards towards the person above him.

Allen Walker didn't look any better than the man. His own snowy hair was colored in crimson, seeming as though it was made of blood. Puffs of wispy smoke left his lips as he panted, his face bruise and scratched while the red forming on his abdomen stated that he was injured as well. His own skin had turned into an ashy gray, his once-silver irises now gold and slitted. His grip on the handle of his sword was loose. If there was an enemy, it wouldn't take an effort for them to beat the now weakened teenager. A feather could knock him over if it wanted to. But, as it were, only the two of them remained. Just two, insignificant cogs that spun Fate's wheel.

"Traitorous...Fourteenth..." the man had wheezed. A cough racked his body shortly after, encouraging more lifeblood to escape from his mouth. "Al...len..."

"Mana," the teenager had said, his voice low and broken.

"Now you get...to feel..." He gasped for air. "..the agony...of eternity..."

Another cough sent his frame shaking. More blood fell upon the ground.

"I...love you...Allen...Walk...er... The Millennium...Earl."

The Millennium Earl, Adam the First Disciple, Mana, had taken his final breath with a smile before stilling. As his body moved no more, Allen slumped to the ground and stared up at the starry sky. There was no tears that tried to escape him, for he had no more to shed. A few years ago, he would be able to cry a river. Yet now, all he had was an empty well.

As if sensing it's master's suffering, Timcanpy came fluttering from the night sky and rested on Allen's head in an attempt to soothe him. As if such a thing could happen as of now.

The Holy War had officially ended. Fate was cruel, wasn't it? For the war couldn't have ended on any other date. But no, it had to be this one. The day Mana had adopted Allen from the circus. The day that Allen had chosen for a birthday. The day he had slain his father as an Akuma.

And now...the day that he had lost everyone he had held dear. December 25th.

And yet strangely, that was not what ran through Allen's thoughts. As his golden gaze rested on the full moon that sat high above, his mind was more focused on the last two words that Mana had said. The last words that ate at him. Everything the other Exorcists had done had been for that man's defeat. For peace. Allen more-so for his atonement. So to be called the very thing he despised, even by Mana...

Allen's hand subconsciously curled into a fist.

"I'm not the Millennium Earl."

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What do you guys think? Better than before or...? My prologues are always ridiculously short. I've also decided that I'll delete the Chapters I've written when I post their replacement.

...Anyways, onto the next chapter!