Fuck This Goddamn City And Everyone In It

When the city of L'manberg was young and under the control of Essempe, the people would shout their pleas for freedom. They would scream and beg for independence. It wasn't until a young man, proud and courageous, stepped up, his chocolate brown eyes spreading hope. The past would shout his name with pure rebellion and defiance, a revolution stirring in the background of their voices. This young man fought, leading men beside him, their roars of resistance tinting their swords with power. When the war was won, and the tyrant of the Essempe was defeated, but far from dead, the young people of L'manberg shouted a man's name. That man's name was lost to history, the rushing river of lies and secrets drowning his name. But they do know the tyrant's name. His name was Dream. And Dream is angry. Or, a war spanning thousands of years is interrupted by three teenagers who needed something to do to distract themselves from their already shitty lives.