The gates of Montserrat Prison clanged open to release a prisoner. A tall man in ordinary clothes walked out, having served his three-year conviction term.
"I can finally be with my family again," Tyler said aloud, shielding his eyes with his hand from the bright noon sun. He didn't turn back to look at the prison facade.
Montserrat was a maximum-security prison, home to the most heinous and dangerous criminals in the world.
But Tyler never belonged to this living hell.
He eyed the uncharacteristic tattoo on his own right bicep, the six-wings, called the Seraphim sigil. It was not a prison souvenir but one given to him by Butch Salvatore, one of the other inmates serving a life sentence.
Butch was an eccentric old man who claimed to be the leader of a mysterious group. Most other inmates considered Butch a deluded old psychopath and avoided him, but Tyler befriended the man and showed him kindness.
One day Butch invited him to his practice sessions.
"I suffered a near-fatal attack from my enemies many years back," he told the young man. "It took most of my life energy to heal myself. My life is about to end soon. However, I see innate talent in you, Tyler. I can teach you to master invincible skills that will aid you in reaching the pinnacle of the world. It won't be an easy or enjoyable path. Will you accept your destiny?"
Tyler was both skeptical and intrigued by Butch's tall claims. In the end, he decided to put them to the test. From that day onwards, he spent his time in prison as Butch Salvatore's disciple.
The old man put him through hell to learn martial arts and abilities. Eventually, Tyler realized Butch's claims were not imaginary.
Just before Tyler's release from prison, Butch imprinted this tattoo on his arm.
"Someone will be waiting for you outside," he instructed in a serious tone. "I don't have anything of material value to give to you right now. However, you are my true legacy; everything I own is yours. There’s a place hidden from the maps—Wings Island. You must go there when you’re ready. "
Tyler didn't really expect anything else from Butch. But indeed, someone was waiting for him outside the prison.
A tall, athletic woman dressed in rugged leather leaned on a Harley Davidson. Her eagle-green eyes scrutinized him.
"Are you Tyler?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes, I am. Butch Salvatore said you'd have gifts for me."
Three years back, Tyler would have been intimidated by such a perfectly sculpted female. However, the new and improved Tyler had drastically changed. He was tall, lean, and muscular. An air of confidence and indifference surrounded him.
"I'm Britta, Butch's granddaughter," she said, handing him a paper bag. "There are three gifts inside. Handle them carefully. I’ll drop you at Sapphire City now."
Tyler nodded and pocketed the bag.
Britta handed him a phone before leaving. "My number is in the phonebook. Call me whenever you need anything. "
Tyler breathed in the city air as he walked down a familiar street. Sapphire City had barely changed, bringing back memories.
Tragic memories.
***
Three years ago, Tyler's life was near perfect. He was about to graduate from university and land a cushy job in a top manufacturing firm.
Tyler was going steady with his childhood love and girlfriend, Erica Sinclair. She was one of the most beautiful girls in the city, and the young man felt lucky to have her as a partner.