"Is death the end or the beginning? Does it have meaning, or is it a meaningless waste of thought? If death has no meaning, does life? I'm dead aren't I?" - 'Your world needs us' - "Needs us...? Who are we...? Who are you?" Harry has the struggle of his life as he has to fight insurmountable odds even after death. Why won't the universe let him Rest in Peace.

Harry Potter - Rated: T - English - Fantasy/Sci-Fi - Chapters: 3 - Words: 8,532 - Reviews: 24 - Updated: 3/16/2015 - Published: 3/15/2015 - Harry P., OC, A. Sinistra, Daphne G.


Harry Potter had learnt that when he joined the magical world that the world was nothing as he had always imagined. It was so much more messed up than that. For one, magic existed. Or something like that. Maybe that was a new stage in human evolution. Or maybe that was all kinds of mystical mumbo-jumbo. He didn't know, and knew he wasn't smart enough to use any kind of science to try figuring it out.

He had a very close friend, Hermione Granger who might have had the brains, but any time he wondered aloud to her the question 'what are we?', she would go off on a rant about magic and mystical stuff, not once pausing to question the ridiculous amounts of crap she read in a book written by a mage who never questioned anything so the cycle continued.

It wasn't as if Harry was a visionary or anything like that. He was just curious. He had grown up away from magic with his magic hating aunt and uncle. They had a number one rule. No questions! He would get a beating if he disobeyed this rule, and he had thought it was so that he didn't discover anything about his magic, or his parents. But then he expected to ask many questions in the magical world and receive plenty of factual answers, but he was sourly mistaken. He did ask questions. However, those answers couldn't be accurate. It was as if they had been reading the answers from that Wikipedia website he had heard of and that somebody had just guessed.

Harry found it obviously misinformed as the more Hermione sprouted off the more she contradicted herself. Yes. He did listen to her. Somebody had too. It was a shame she didn't listen to herself or she would get that too.

The magical world seemed to be racist idiots. They made Muggle-born's stupid. Harry didn't know why he was different. He didn't know why he still asked questions, but maybe it was something to do with the protection his mother had supposedly left him. That and he was extraordinarily stubborn.

He had actually tried to get Hermione to listen to his logic and reason. It didn't work. She couldn't see passed her own belief and he thought it was worrisome how much Hermione and 'light' wizards seemed to love Albus Dumbledore. He bet none of them knew the real man. That was just it. Everything seemed to be a fight between the good and the bad. Light and dark. But there had to be more to the magical people than that. Were they squandering their own possibility? Was fighting each other in such black and white terms all they knew? Was it all they lived for? What if there was more? What if someday they had reason to band together and forget about light and dark? Good or evil? Would the magical people survive something so new and frightening to them?

It made him smile slightly as he lay back on his bed at the Dursley's home. He couldn't bring himself to call it his home any longer. Dumbledore tried saying that while he called the place home he was safe. He didn't feel all that safe and he was near certain that since everyone in the magical world seemed to know where he lived he wasn't safe at all, least of all from his so-called family.

Dumbledore said his wards were stronger than Hogwarts, but if that was the case how come he couldn't sense them? He could feel the wards at Hogwarts. Wards weighed down a slight pressure upon his shoulders when he stepped through them, but at the Dursley's he got nothing.

He was sure he knew the truth. He had a lot of time to think about it. It came down to Dumbledore. The old man may believe that he was doing it all for the Greater Good, but that was just it. The Greater Good didn't calculate in the Good of the Individual. But that seemed to be how the magical world always worked. The light and dark would fight each other. The dark would get away with raping and killing innocent people while the light 'tried' to subdue them alive under the pretext of being better than them.

If the 'light' did capture them they would either get off under some loophole or they would go to jail where they would be tortured insane before they died slow and agonising deaths under the watch of the dementors, which were prison guards, ghouls that sucked away the happiness in the air and fed off misery and human souls, which seemed like a double standards as Harry would have rather been killed than stay at that prison for one day.

Then the dark and light leaders do battle and one wins, shifting the balance towards the dark if the 'Dark Lord' won, but leaving it plainly unmoving, unchanged if the light wins and all of the darks followers (well most of them) get off without even a slap on the wrist. Then it all happens over again because the 'light' wizard doesn't care for children's happiness and therefore one will inevitably grow up to get their revenge on the world.

Dumbledore wanted Harry to continue this. If the prophecy was to be believed or followed Harry was supposed to be the next light and vanquish Voldemort letting everything stay the same. But what if Harry grew up in the muggle world loved and well rounded (protected from influence by his mother's magic) and realised that a war was a war and that the Death Eaters and Voldemort were terrorists that needed putting down. In a way Harry understood a little about what Voldemort hated.

Voldemort might have turned out differently if Dumbledore helped him while at school. Instead the old man turned his back on him. Well that was more speculation than anything, but Harry had never seen any teacher going out of their way to help a student who was having difficulties at home or at school. Either that or that was just when it revolved around him because Dumbledore didn't want them to for the 'Greater Good', and they were stupid enough to listen.

Harry sighed as he hadn't long turned sixteen and he didn't even get a 'good-day' from any of his friends as he couldn't care less about gifts.

He wasn't sure whether he could blame that on them as his owl Hedwig had been acting strangely for the past week, so maybe that was other owls too. She wouldn't leave the house, which meant he had to feed her, which wasn't too bad. She just kept looking befuddled any time he wanted to send a letter, and he could tell his owl was worried and even more, she was frightened of leaving him. He wasn't sure, but he got the feeling she might not have been able to find her way back.

If it was just something revolving around the magic of owl delivery Harry would have been content enough to wait it out and take her to whatever magical people had as vets. But he had heard his uncle cussing a lot about the satellite TV interference, which even included recording wrong channels, channels switching numbers, channels becoming available that shouldn't and vice-verse.

Telephones lines had been crossing, or just not working, or giving what his uncle called a dial up internet or fax noise when they didn't have a fax machine in the house and paid a broadband subscription. Mobile phones had gone from cheapest and most reliable method for communications to barely working at all.

That wasn't just his relatives stuff either or that could have been attributed to magic and fixed if Harry could get in contact with anyone, but people all over the world according to the news reports.

Harry was starting to feel concerned when he heard that three military satellites had fallen out of orbit along with two privately owned satellites with one of them smashing down and tearing into a beach on the South Coast of Italy killing forty-three people and injuring many more. It was just luck that the other four satellites hit unpopulated areas as none of them burnt up the way they should have, leaving very little of anything to hit land.

Something was happening in the muggle world and he couldn't figure out what, but if one thing was certain, the magical people wouldn't have a clue how to deal with magic malfunctioning. They were too reliant on their powers that Harry wasn't sure they could cope if it was more than just interfering with post. He shrugged internally as he didn't feel like there was any use worrying when it was probably something simple, like solar flares or whatever.

Harry groaned as he sat up feeling stiff and sore. His head was pounding and he felt sick all of a sudden. He stumbled off his bed. He was only wearing black boxer shorts and other than some muscle definition he was scrawny and short from lack of nutrition when he was younger. He felt as if he hadn't eaten in weeks, which was likely true. Well he hadn't eaten much as his 'family' didn't like to feed him and his so-called allies didn't care either. He wondered whether Dumbledore required him to suffer like this for his Greater Good Programme.

Shaking his sweaty head clear he walked to the window for some fresh air. He looked out into the strangely lit street wondering whether Dumbledore's watchers cared that he was starved and treat like crap. Shrugging that off something caught his attention and he looked up and almost gaped.

It seemed impossible. The sky was clear. It was clearer than he could have ever imagined that the moon looked so close. It looked as if the atmosphere had been cleaned like a dirty sheet of glass now allowing them to see into the depths of space. It was beautiful in a scary kind of way, not a cloud in the sky.

Then he saw it just a twinkle of a light in the sky and the street went dark as something rippled like a stone on water but Harry realised that this stone skimmed into the atmosphere and a shock-wave blew into the ground. Nothing seemed to shatter and the quake was small enough anyone sleeping wouldn't have noticed but there was another boom as the street lights went out and the hum of electrical gadgets left the street in perfect quiet.

Harry watched in awe as colours streamed across the clear sky like an all-encompassing aurora. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He was watching for a few moments when he suddenly coughed into his hand as he felt drowsy and looking he coughed up blood. He could only stare at the blood in his hand in horror when he collapsed to his knees shaking in a sudden cold.

"Boy what the hell are you doing to the sky!" His Aunt Petunia charged into his room just in time to see her nephew vomit blood. He looked to her in shock as the life left his eyes. His glasses fell from his face and shattered as his body went limp and collapsed lifelessly on the floor and all Petunia could think about was what would the freaks would do to her family with him dead.

However, the freaks never did come, even when the coroner took Harry's body away. He wasn't the only one to die a mysterious death because of the lights. They faded after a few hours and power was restored the moment the lights finally disappeared but over twenty-three million people were to have been reported dead because of the strange lights in the sky, and that was just in the UK.

It would take months to clear out the dead, bury or cremate them. It also affected livestock and farming placing the world into a depression because of food shortages and the life lost. Scientists were given limitless resources to discover what happened on that night, and for once the whole world was united in a worthy cause.

Petunia didn't know what to make of any of this. She just knew it couldn't have been freaks. They had power, she knew that, but she also knew they didn't have that kind of power, and there was another side effect. The surviving humans seemed to exhibit enhanced conditions, people were suddenly getting smarter, more durable, and stronger. It wasn't unrealistic strength like from cartoons and comic books, but somewhere beyond the human peak.

Some people suffering terminal illness healed and regenerated over time, people who suffered un-reversible spinal injuries could walk and run. People with mental disabilities that affected their bodies could suddenly talk and communicate. It was a time people mourned the loss but it was also a time of miracles.

However, not all humans seemed to exhibit these new improvements, some only got one extra trait, and research into it suggested it was down to mutations that had already been there, dormant in the human genome for thousands of years. Some people had even started expressing psychic abilities in some mild forms but those abilities grew the more they were utilised.

The world had changed with over one-third of the Earth's population dead, but hidden away in their own little bubbles the magical people remained ignorant. They didn't know that July the Thirty-First would be remembered the world over as a day to mourn the loss to their world. They didn't know that on the Thirty-First of July, on a day a boy hero should have celebrated he died alone, unloved, scared, their Saviour was dead and they had never cared enough to even know that.

Magical barriers all over the world had failed when the power did, but it was only thanks to the power failures that the magical people kept their secrets, kept their ignorance. However, like with the power systems magic would take a while to work correctly, but like the humans they changed in little ways, adapting and evolving, and some even had knew ways they would have to learn so that they could utilise their powers properly.

It would take the magical world a while longer than the humans to realise they were changing. That they as mage were not all the same any more, and that now they might have reason to call some magicians and other mystics or warlocks.

But then, the ignorance remained and both sides would feel concern and uncertainty, wondering what their world would become.

He felt dizzy and it was hard to breath. He felt like a warn old machine that hadn't been used in so long that he needed time to warm up. He wasn't sure where he was, but then he didn't know what he was or who he was so that was a minor problem compared with other events. His head felt as if it had been rammed through a solid steel wall and succeeded in breaking through only worse.

Feeling sick to his stomach might have come to mind if that actually made sense but wasn't that the turn of phrase? If it was whoever said it first was an idiot and had never felt as sick as him. He would have to invent new terms just to describe how he felt.

It didn't hurt that he was somewhere dark and confined. He could feel the cold but even then he couldn't, not how he suspected the cold should have felt. If he was cold then why wasn't he-well-cold?

He was sure his eyes were open but still he couldn't see. Didn't he wear some kind of eye-things before? They helped him see, didn't they? He wasn't too sure. He just knew that something weird was going on and he needed to figure out what it was. His head buzzed with thoughts and feelings but he wasn't sure they were even his. Did he know how to feel? He was sure that fear should have been the top of the list right then.

What was fear to him? He wasn't sure he understood the concept any more, but thinking about it he wasn't sure he ever understood what fear was. It was just an emotion like love and happiness, but an opposite of them, but still. He didn't comprehend what they were. He knew they were good things good people should have cherished, so why didn't he?

Was he a bad person? He wasn't sure that he could say he was. Though, that didn't bode well as he wasn't sure he could say he was a good person. What kind of person was he? He could remember vaguely some of the things he had done with his life. Most of his life consisted of fleeing. Was he a coward? Did he run away from the good and the bad, or maybe he was just smart enough to know that sometimes it was better to run away and wait for an opportunity to strike when the odds were in his favour.

So it seemed he wasn't stupid. He had the instinct to survive. Then why was he there? Where was he? It was cold and smelt like water. He didn't know how he could smell water in his space but he could. Though honestly he wasn't sure how he knew what water smelt of, but it was that fresh, refreshing.

He could barely move but he didn't feel like panicking. Not yet. It could have been a dream but he wasn't sure it was. He had enemies. He remembered that much. They made his life a living hell. He could never have friends. He could never ask questions. He could never have answers. These were the things, small, insignificant, but things non-the-less denied to him by his enemies. Did they do this to him, trap him, confuse him, and imprison him. He couldn't tell. He didn't even know who he was.

Maybe he was the darkness, the evil, and he deserved imprisonment? But that didn't sit right. Maybe he was the hero, captured and tortured insane by the forces of darkness. But something made him question that terminology. Dark and light. For some reason he hated them. Was he an outcast? Was he a renegade? Did he fight against all comers? Was he a revolutionary? Did he just simply not like labels?

He might have shook his head if he didn't feel as if he would hurt himself knocking into the wall but he did feel his lips quirking upwards as he wondered whether the good and the bad just pissed him off. It seemed quite likely as he felt angry while trying to remember who they were but couldn't even picture their faces. However, he knew deep down somewhere that the only way he would remember them was to see them fact-to-face.

His past felt like a woven mystery clouded in judgement. Did he even want to remember? He could. He knew it was all inside his clogged and sodomised head. But it was as if it was stuck in a traffic jam that was never going to move because of the jackknifed bendy bus that hit two double decker buses

He raised his hands and found they reached the ceiling of his cell far too early for his liking and decided that panicking was a likely outcome to his predicament. He just wished he knew that there would be a favourable outcome. His breathing had already started to deepen and he started scrapping at the wood.

It didn't take but another moment for him to flail, banging all side, screaming. His fists were cracking the wood with ease along with his feet and legs, knees and any other body part capable of reaching the sides or ceiling. He gasped, horror setting in. He couldn't think of anything else as the dirt started collapsing in on his cell.

He was soon completely buried. He couldn't breathe. He held his breath, but he knew he was going to die. He didn't want to die. He couldn't die yet. He had barely lived sixteen years, and though his mind wasn't all together he was sure most of that had been surviving. He wanted to have a family someday. He wanted a wife and children to love. He would die for his family. He would kill for them.

Then the earth erupted up exploding out of the ground and he sat up in his shallow grave panting for breath. He had to shield his eyes from the bright sun as he spat up dirt, twisting to be sick.

He turned to see his marker and was almost sick again as it just mentioned six unknown children having died. He was one of them. Didn't he had family? He remembered he did no matter that he would rather not. But they didn't claim him. They didn't want to at least give him one nice thing like a good burial?

Reaching up his right hand he lent against the ground when he startled as his hand had some kind of matte white and silver device on it over his fingers, fused with the back of his hand. It sparked with electromagnetic energy. He flexed his fingers but got nothing out of it after that and just marvelled before pulling himself up to stand.

He stumbled a few times in the dirt before looking himself over as he brushed the dirt from his naked body. But that was a surprise too. He was taller than he was sure he was, and had much too much muscle mass for a guy who only played quidditch whatever that was as he wasn't quite sure. That wasn't mentioning that he was back from the dead, and if he had died there was nothing.

Death seemed to be just that. Empty nothingness because he was quite certain he still had his soul. Most vampires lost their souls once they turned. It was why they didn't care about feeding on humans. That was where they differed as the thought of killing humans like that made him queasy, not that he wouldn't kill his enemies given the chance as they made their own beds, which was another silly turn of phrase as many of them likely had those enslaved midget things to make their beds for them.

That all startled him as he remembered vampires, weird little midget monsters as slaves. Magic! Was magic real? That was it wasn't it? He was a-magician or warlock or something like that but he couldn't quite remember. However, he looked to the device on his hand and he knew that it couldn't be magic because it was too science, and magical people didn't do science did they?

Then again thinking about it; he was sure the magical people didn't do resurrections, and the nearest they could get was those-zombie things he had heard about. That was strange as he had never heard anyone call them zombies before. Anyway, they were just mindless animated corpses, no better, in fact, worse than if they were to use that magic on marionettes, which if that kind of magic worked on puppets would have been better as puppets could have in-built weapons.

He made a mental note not to give his enemies any ideas so chose to store those thoughts away because he didn't want his plans used against him.

Shaking his head free from dirt he looked around as he took in the sweet fresh air of the mid-afternoon. He was surprised to see people around sitting at benches that scattered the seemingly endless graveyard where people other than him were buried together.

He was pale and looked as if he had risen from the grave, the fact he seemed to have actually done that just crept him out let alone the people who saw him while looking terrified. He wondered just as they must have whether any more dead men were going to wake up but it took him a moment to realise he knew, he didn't know how but he did, he would be the only one.

He didn't know what to do. Before he was sure embarrassment would have been the correct emotion, but now he wasn't sure how that felt. Why should he feel ashamed of his body anyway? He was certain girls liked muscle on their boyfriends, and he had always had a large-ish penis anyway but whatever resurrection had happened to him made that bigger with all of his enhancements. Therefore, he didn't have anything to be embarrassed about so he didn't make a fool of himself by trying to hide the 'goods' as he heard they were referred to sometimes, somewhere.

Stepping out of the small pit he struggled to remember the fine art of walking. It seemed that it was ingrained into who he was as a simple activity. It took him what felt like an age to struggle over to the nearest set of benches where an old man sat with a younger man obviously mourning someone in a grave somewhere, but they looked at him in terror as he approached.

Speaking seemed like it was going to be a problem as he stopped before them. He was scared himself so he didn't want to scare anyone and hoped they would forgive him. He figured that was the good-guy thing to think so hopefully he wasn't evil.

"P-please!" he croaked out with trembling lips. "W-where am I…? Why are there so many-graves?"

The old man stepped before the younger and spoke uncertainly. "They-they died during the Kaleido Event," he said nervously. "E-everyone here did!" he said. "Y-you should be dead, but-this is impossible, even for them!"

"Them?" he asked.

The old man nodded as he pulled out a small mirror and handed it over. It was hard to hold but after some help he looked at himself. His black hair was longer than he remembered, shaggy down his heck, and his emerald green eyes were alight as if they had small LEDs behind them shining through.

"I-I don't understand!" he mumbled in confusion looking back to the old man as he handed him the small mirror.

"I-I shouldn't b-be talking to you, sir, I'm sorry!" the old man said leading the younger man away quickly they left him alone more confused than ever.

"Darn I could have at least asked whether they could loan me something to cover-up…!" he mumbled to himself trailing off as he looked down to see he was wearing white leather lose fitting trousers. "O-Kay!" he muttered to himself looking from his new trousers to the device on his right hand in worry, which was odd as he was sure he wasn't feeling worried.

It couldn't have been magic as that would have needed conscious will-power and the correct emotions to make some trousers and he wasn't sure but he doubted he ever knew how to conjure something on himself. He was only sixteen years old after all. He wasn't sure whether school had even covered that or whether it would.

"I have a feeling something weird is going on!" he said joking to himself as he was certain something weird was going on. "Just don't panic, don't panic and we can figure out what to do. We are after all superior to other humans-."

He stopped talking and frowned as that didn't seem like the sort of thing normal people would say. But then it wasn't said in malice like those douchy wizards would have said it. Wizards. He remembered he had powers. Was that why he believed he was superior? He remembered some fortune foretold that he could destroy someone or something, but he couldn't quite remember who or what, just something to do with his parents deaths so he took that to be reason enough to kill some murdering bastard.

Stumbling he was sure he should leave the graveyard in case the authorities turned up and tried arresting him. How would he explain 'magical' slacks and some kind of techno-gizmo stuck to his hand? That wasn't mentioning returning from the grave. That would be a really odd conversation.

People watched him as he passed, trepidation in their expression. He could tell by reading their facial cues that some of them were worried, more the older people. The younger seemed to be more curious than anything else. It took him a while to find the gates out of the cemetery and was impressed at it size. But it concerned him. Maybe he should have asked what this Kaleido Event was and how many people died if they needed to bury several people together in some plots.

He was accosted by a group of teenagers that had been hanging out by the gates, five boys and two girls. They had been smoking and drinking but picked up sticks and bats as he went to exit the gate.

"So the freaks here!"

"We heard about some freak in our graveyard!"

"We're going to make you pay!"

Confusion seemed to be an emotion easily accessed as one of the boys charged, raising his baseball bat. It was just as surprising for him as it was his attacker that he caught the bat in his left hand and crushed the wood, shattering it.

"I'm afraid I do not understand the hostility!" he responded to them while they all moved back rethinking what they were doing. "Do you know of the magical world?" he asked as that could have happened while he was dead and they thought magic brought him back and he was an evil witch or whatever.

"T-the w-what?" one of the girls stuttered out while his piercing lit eyes scanned her body before he double-took as she looked naked, and gulped as he looked at the others. He could see through their clothes and one of the boys was drawing a gun hidden in his pants. Well he did have a lot of room in his pants.

He rose his right hand at the boy through instinct as he drew the gun. Then the metallic device lit up blue and opened with sparkling blue clips. The device pulsed one and the gun was torn from the boys hand into his as the pins closed and the lights went out with only a few residual sparks.

The gun was then released from its safety and aimed at them. He didn't know why kids had guns, but they only seemed to be a couple of years younger than him. Thirteen. Fourteen at the most. Shaking his head, seeing them naked was kind of fun in the case of the girls but it was also distracting and he didn't like being invasive like that as it was kind of douchy. He didn't know how he could see through things but as usefulness goes that was up there.

He vaguely remembered some old dude who had a special eye that could supposedly see through clothes and he used it constantly. However, he did remember doing a bit of research and it seemed that his eye wasn't anywhere near that useful, more like an x-ray than anything. He remembered looking into it because he had thought about replacing both of his eyes with real artificial so that he could see-better than perfectly and seeing through things seemed like a good idea. He was clever even before whatever had happened to him while he was dead, which was totally cool.

His eyes wandered the kids while they stood frozen in terror and one of the girls had a trail of pee dribbling down her leg before he pulled out the magazine clip out of the gun and flicked out each bullet before emptying the chamber and dismantling the gun and letting all the pieces fall to the floor.

He was already confused enough and now he seemed to know how guns worked. He shook his head clear when he felt the light tingling of his right hand and watched a beautiful blue-white light seemingly dismantling the thing on his hand, pulling it back inside him before it was gone along with the light.

Shrugging as he realised how cool that was he walked passed the teens without giving them much thought before stopping next to the girl who peed herself and stroking her cheek in a comforting manner while giving her a reassuring smile. Then he walked off leaving the kids to continue doing whatever it was that their parents would bitch at them for if they found out.

He paused as he was walking along a moderately busy road and groaned looking back the way he came he shrugged and heading on towards London as the sign said the city was only two miles along the road and he could see the outcropping of buildings from where he was. He should have asked those kids that if they didn't mean freak as in witches and the likes then what did they mean, were they talking about his new powers?

It didn't matter just then as he realised he was strong enough to defend himself for now and carried on walking towards the city with the hope of finding out what was going on with him and the people around him.

For a people who witnessed someone rise from the grave they sure didn't seem like it was the strangest thing they had ever seen.

He frowned as he had been near London, walking through a small suburb while thinking about normal people wearing shoes and more than just trousers when that strange blue light thing did the trick. Everything seemed to be armoured from his black half-boots to the black vest and even the long white coat. It was thin leather and melded to him perfectly with three straps over his chest and waist leaving it open and airy.

Being extremely comfortable worked for him. The coat hung to his lower calves and had electric blue decal like something some super modern or advanced royal might wear only this wasn't black and gold like he would expect for that. He even had some stylish glasses over his eyes to hide them because that seemed to freak people out more than rising from the dead. The tint was a dark green because it hid the glow better than black.

He occasionally saw a few kids playing together with friends being watched by parents. That gave him pause to think. Didn't he have friends? Did they know he had even died? Did they try to resurrect him and forget to dig him up? He wouldn't have put it passed them, the second part because if he remembered correctly they would rather be raped to death than do anything 'dark' to save themselves.

That brought him to another thought. How long had he been dead? While everything looked the same, and felt the same. It didn't, it wasn't. Something had changed and he didn't know what so he decided the best thing would be to ask someone a few questions and the opportunity arose when he saw a girl. She was about twelve. Young enough to be naive enough not to find his questions too odd.

He smiled at her while she blushed. She would have likely blush more as he checked through her clothes quickly for weapons if she knew what he was seeing. He had been attacked by kids not much older than her before. He frowned as she did have a pretty big switch-blade knife in her jeans pocket. That was weird on so many levels of the weird-stuff-scale. However, he pretended he didn't know she carried a weapon to defend herself from what he didn't know.

"Excuse me!" he called her and she stopped her speedy trek. She didn't move closer but waited for him to continue. "How long ago was the Kaleido Event?" he asked her quickly while not advancing as he wanted questions not to kick a twelve year old girls arse.

"Are you stupid or something?!" she demanded, startling him. "It was just over three years ago," she said, which shocked him for a moment before he schooled his features.

"I see," he replied smilingly. "W-what about people with glowing eyes?"

She snorted rudely. "We don't talk about them bastards!"

"I see," he mumbled with a sigh as he realised there were more people like him but knew that stubbornness. This girl was not going to talk about them and that concerned him as it reminded him of one of his enemies. It made him more curious than before. It seemed like he was different. He wasn't acting as those other people had expected and they didn't know how to respond to that.

"Thank you very much for your time," he said with a polite nod and carried on his way. However, he paused as he detected the girl tensing behind him. He thought for a moment she was going to attack him when he saw it was in response to several older boys accosting her. She had been moving at quite the pace when he stopped her to talk, and he hadn't really paid that any reason.

"Look who it is. I almost got my dick in her arse last week. Bitch stabbed me!" one of the boys called out laughing while they pounced, grabbing the girl and other people were grabbing their children and pulling them inside when one of the boys turned to him sneering.

"Get lost chump or we'll cut off your dick!"

He turned back towards them and narrowed his eyes before walking towards them, which was a shock, one boy had a machete and swung it. However, the blade was surprisingly caught between the newly resurrected young man's fingers and pulled from the fifteen year old boy's hands before he took a knee to the ribs and flew back into a lamppost; a bloodied heap.

"W-who the fuck are you!?" The leader of the troupe was eighteen, nearing nineteen and he was attacking girls on a street in broad daylight and getting away with it.

"My name is-Ha-!"

Harry. That was his name, but he hadn't the chance to say more as one of the boys took the distraction to mean he could beat him. However, he was flipped and crashed down at Harry's feet.

"You bastard!" The leader and the other few holding the girl let her go where she fell to her bottom so they could attack him.

Harry came to one strict conclusion. Humans shouldn't have been as strong as them, but they didn't have glowing eyes like his. He stopped one fist with his right hand and crushed the boys' hand. He screamed in agony before Harry tossed him head first into a car window. If they felt like they could do what they wanted to weaker people by outnumbering them then he would beat them and not care whether they lived. Treating other people the way they did in his books forfeit them any right to complain.

The other boys had been broken and beaten. He wasn't sure to look to see whether any were dead and he didn't actually feel like he cared. If they survived they would never attack anyone again through fear that Harry or someone like Harry would kill them. If they were dead then that was a moot point as they wouldn't be able to hurt anyone again.

The eighteen year old boy was still standing after having watched his little gang get the shite kicked out of them by one person. He was shaking as Harry hadn't even tried. He was still pristine clean.

"You fuck!" he roared as he attacked with a right punch only for Harry to move under it and he stopped as Harry left hand clamped around his throat and he struggled against his grip. Harry wasn't sure how he knew how to fight but of all special powers, kicking arse was likely the most useful.

Harry's fist clenched tighter. If these bastards could get away with raping a girl in the middle of the street during the day then he could get away with murder. If the world was suddenly lawless then he had to if he could, bring some sense of hope back and save these people from scum like this 'man'.

He smiled a little as a line he heard once jumped into his head. "You have failed this city!" he declared coldly. "I don't think I've ever liked bullies!" he said coolly as his eyes were like ice peering over his glasses the man's eyes widened in terror before Harry crushed his throat and let his lifeless body drop to his feet.

Harry turned to the girl as he pushed his glasses up his nose and offered her his hand to help her up. She was nervous as she accepted the help. She was weak in the knees and collapsed into his arms, into his solid body with her heart thumping painfully.

"Y-you saved me!" the girl mumbled in tears. "Y-you're my saviour, my hero, My Saviour!" she declared while he comforted her while she sobbed in his arms. He wasn't sure what that meant but other people had left their houses marvelling in what he had done for one small girl. He was a hero, a saviour.

It had taken him a while to extract himself from the party the people threw him as a thank you, and managed to use a shower as he could still smell dirt on him. He hadn't realised how hungry he was. Though, he had been dead for three years. It made him wonder how much the magical people had changed. He was expecting a huge disappointment. Would they have even noticed that something messed up was happening in the human world?

Human world? Were they even human any more? He didn't know what happened as for one the people didn't quite know, and two they preferred not to talk about it as it brought up the loss of one third of the planets human population and they were only starting to straighten out and it would take a long time to start recovering from the loss.

What was annoying though was that nobody ever talked about people with glowing eyes and they were scared. He could smell their fear. That left Harry to believe that other than him there weren't any nice people who had glowing eyes. It was annoying because that might have meant the only person or persons he could ask about this would have glowing eyes and he was sure he would not get along with them.

He had to wear his sunglasses constantly or else they would likely freak out. People could be odd like that. He had been invited to spend the night at Karen's house. That was the name of the girl he rescued. She lived alone with her mother. But her mother didn't have much in the way of abilities to defend her daughter so she was almost more thankful than her baby-girl was.

Everyone was sleeping when he chose to leave in the middle of the night as he knew it was what was best.

"I'm not stupid. I know what you are!"

He was startled and turned to see Karen's mother Evelyn. She was quite the beautiful woman for thirty-three, but that was likely age biased. She had a full chest and she shaved and waxed between her legs. However, he wasn't looking through her clothes as he might have if he felt that she was a threat as she was naked with her tight slender body on full display for him.

She swayed over to him while he tried to keep automatic body responses under control, which was a lot harder than he thought it should have been as this was the first girl, lady-well female he had actually properly seen naked before as x-ray vision didn't count. She pulled off his glasses and didn't flinch at all as they faded away pulling back into Harry with a blue light.

Instead of explaining anything she kissed him and jumped into his powerful arms as she was soaking wet. It didn't take any effort to carry her upstairs to her room. He was on top of her on her bed within moments with his clothes swishing away, groping at her large full breasts before pulling back from her lips.

"W-why?" he asked breathlessly.

She smirk. "Hot young man saves my baby-girl, and I haven't been laid in a while. Get with the programme bright eyes. There is no way any other person with eyes like yours would want to be so nice with me."

That was it. Harry didn't want to be a nineteen year old virgin in a sixteen year old body any longer. He couldn't care to ask her about his eyes any longer. The thought was fleeting and gone in the arms of an experienced woman who could teach him a thing or more.

It was early the next morning that Harry was fully dressed. He was offered some real clothes that used to belong to Karen's father before he died during the Kaleido Event. He seemed to have a thing for expensive suits as Harry was kitted out. Black shoes, slacks and shirt with belt and jacket with his shades over his eyes.

Harry had never known how to drive but Evelyn gave him the keys to her husband's car. It was fully loaded with petrol but hadn't been driven in a while. Just knowing loads of thing was confusing but he had been sure to drive he needed a licence but apparently there was nobody to stop him.

"So you're leaving?" Karen interrupted as he was about to open the front door. He looked back and smiled at her as she was just in her panties and little white vest looking as if she needed some more sleep with her brown hair ruffled. It was quite amusing how much like her mother she looked.

"Yes," he agreed while she ran into his arms for a cuddle.

"I'll miss you!" she said. "But I'll tell everyone who passes through that there is someone nice, our saviour!"

"Thanks!" he said as he stole her first kiss. It was gentle and sweet. He pulled back while she was blushing up a storm.

"Take care of your mother for me!" he said before exiting out of the door. She waited as she heard the car leave the driveway before she hurried up to her mother's room and barged in, not caring that her mother was naked lying on her bed looking forlorn and she dread to think about what all of that mess was as she heard her mother and the Saviour having sex, wishing that he would stay to be her new father or father-figure at least as he wasn't too much older than her.

"Mother?" she asked knowing her mother was sensitive and seeing the way she looked at Harry knew her mother liked him a lot and wanted him to stay, but who could blame her. Her mother knew that Harry had things he needed to do though, so she didn't even ask him as that would make things harder for everyone especially since they knew he wasn't like them and if others found out she couldn't know what would have happened.

It took a moment for her mother to look at her. She was instantly worried as her mother's eyes had glazed over before she began to speak in a wispy voice.

"A new rise in tides comes with the shattering of the moon – enemies will seek, and friends will fight! War most vicious wrecks the land and the destined will stand to shatter the sky – to bring down the fierce enemy, to shine a light towards a new path, magic will awaken with forces anew to take this world-under the rebirth of the one who defies deaths hold to save all!" she finished looking confused while her daughter was gobsmacked.

"Honey, what's wrong?" she asked her daughter, not caring about all of the cum covering her or her nudity she pulled her baby into her arms, sitting her on her lap while she sat up in concern. "I know you liked him too, but I think he has to go. Someone like him can't stay here. They'll find out about what he is and panic."

"No, mum!" she said shaking her head clear. "You just did a fortune thing. It's like sometimes when you know things before they happen but this was something bigger! I think. I think we're going to start fighting back! I think there's going to be a huge war. I'm scared mummy, can we really fight back?!"

Her mother lovingly stroked her hair as her baby buried her face in her breasts. "Okay sweetie. I don't remember anything. You'll have to tell me everything I said, how I said it. Can you remember all of that?"

Karen nodded her head in her mother breasts and felt like a baby. She knew she would never be able to forget the words that lit so much more hope within her heart.