The air was heavy and it burned away the insides like a flame caught in one's throat and eyes. A tall figure wearing a gas mask and a long coat stood above the bodies of innocent people whose's only crime was existing. The figure looked at the bloody and blistered body of a young white haired child, he must've died screaming and crying moments before the gas burned away his insides. The figure walked again seeing piles upon piles of bodies both young and old, all died painfully and all by the figure's hand. The figure couldn't hold back tears any more, but the mask hid his pain from the world. 

This was not a nightmare. It was a memory, a memory of his biggest regret. 

[hr]

Crowley gasped as he grasped for his mask. He grabbed nothing but thin air, the man was a mess to say the least. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was knotted as well as greasy, he looked hungry and thirsty. Crowley has been a vagabond ever since the ishvalen war, after the war he was to be a war hero for his part in the senseless murders of innocent, once he destroyed how to recreate his infamous mustard gas transmutation circle he was marked as a war criminal for destroying a valuable resource, a valuable and deadly resource. And ever since then he has been on the run from the military to not be executed for his crimes, he would be willing if it was by the hands of the ishvalen he has killed but no, he was to be killed by the people who has commanded him to kill children in cold blood. 

Crowley sighed and he left the shady alley into the bright desert city of Liore. This will be a long day he could tell already with the sun beating at him.