The rain pounded on the glass as the man stared out of his window, a look of forlorn pasted on his face. The sky rumbled, the sky flashed, the clouds transformed like dark beasts ready to reign down on the land of Man. The streets were deserted. You can see the detritus blowing in the wind, can see it slapping on lampposts as it flew away into the distance. He wished he could just disappear. He wished he never existed at all. Why would a world want a man like him who was the cause of all this turmoil? Why would a world want a man like him who was the cause of this war? He'd rather be dead. His eyes travelled up to the heavens where it opened up and unleashed beings that were far from human, beings with horns on top of their heads, beings who smiled wickedly down at him. But then again, he wasn't human himself. He could feel his pulse quicken. Could feel adrenaline rushing into his veins as the blood of his ancestors flowed - as he was reminded of their destiny, of his destiny. There was no one else but him to end this war. No one else... With sudden determination, he clenched his fists and called upon to the spirits of his ancestors to give him strength. And with a yell, burst through the roof of his dilapidated house and flew towards his target. "Come ye, spirits of Ángelito, to guide me to victory!" The heavens opened once again and unleashed six, glowing souls, the souls floating their way to him. He could feel the power emanating from them as they circled around his body and became the saviour of this world that he grew to love.