Chapter Text
It was the dead of night in their childhood home. Nothing irregular had occurred that day, everything was normal. They were a normal family. Mother. Father. Twins. Brother. A normal five-person family in Quesadilla island, speaking two languages, Portugues and English, or at least learning English.
The eldest twin, Cellbit, born only five minutes before his sister, was passionate. His parents had raised him to be protective over those he loved, to care for his sister, to care for his brother. He was the eldest, he was the strongest, and he would protect them for the rest of his life. Cellbit was also incredibly intelligent, having helped his father solve many detective cases at the young age of twelve.
The sole female, Bagi, born only five minutes after her brother, was kind. Her parents had raised her to be observant of others and their emotions. Whilst her brother was physically protective, she strived to help those struggling mentally. She had often been the source of Cellbit’s comfort. She was the only girl, she was the most emotionally intelligent, and she would help them for the rest of her life. Bagi was also incredibly talented, having gained many skills from watching her mother at the young age of twelve.
The youngest boy, Tubbo, born four years after his siblings, was good. His parents had raised him to have morals and to never stray from them. He helped his siblings see right and wrong, helped them think clearly and differentiate feelings from fact from goodness. He was the youngest, he was most moral, and he would aid them for the rest of his life. Tubbo was also incredibly gifted, having practised many complicated subjects with his father late at night at the young age of eight.
The three shared a room. Their family was normal, but they weren’t rich. They lived in the district of Favela, a poorer area of Quesadilla island, but they were happy, they were safe, or so they thought.
Tubbo’s mind had plagued him with nightmares, causing him to kick and scream every time he dared to close his eyes. Bagi and Cellbit were concerned, neither of their parents had heard so they moved him onto Cellbit’s bed, wrapped him in blankets and told him stories, Bagi taking the lead as she was better at dealing with emotions. Cellbit just watched in awe, wishing he could be that talented with people. Tubbo listened, wiping his tears, sniffling but giggling as Bagi told him a joke and bopped him on the nose. His hands still shook, the monsters of his mind still in control, but Cellbit slowly fought them off, and Bagi slowly built more defences.
Warmth filled his body, as Bagi wrapped her arms around him, ordering Cellbit to do the same. They were together, they were siblings, they were each other’s safe havens. They would be forever, or at least that's what they told themselves. Bagi squeezed tight, as if she were afraid of letting go, as if she were afraid of them disappearing. Cellbit held on weakly, as if he were afraid of holding on, as if he were afraid of them being cursed to be forever held within his arms. Tubbo cried, as if he were afraid of everything all at once, his siblings were there for him, they had promised to always be there for him, but would they always be there? How could they know? How could they promise that?
Exhaustion claimed the children, as they all drifted off into the land of sleep, the rise and fall of their chests relaxing into a steady routine. They fell asleep in a tangled ball of limbs, with smiles on their faces, and tears down their cheeks. Nightmares didn’t hold their claim on Tubbo that night, allowing him to rest, possibly for the last time.
Smoke filled the room, thick black smog covering the children like a blanket. Cellbit’s eyes fluttered, stinging soaring through his eyeballs. Immediately he shook Bagi and Tubbo, waking them in an instant. Tubbo coughed, fumes being sucked into his lungs, scarring the organs. Bright lights surrounded their house. Bagi grabbed both of their hands and pulled them to the floor, remembering the fire training she had received at school. Smoke rose, so stay close to the ground. Their chests hurt and their skin tingled with the excessive heat. Bagi began to scream different variations of her parents’ names and titles, Cellbit focused on traversing their way through their house, down the stairs, whilst being unable to peer through the thick gas. Tubbo cried again. Sirens rang out, ringing in their ears, as well as the sound of multiple crashes. Tubbo wasn’t sure what they were but he tried to help Cellbit, holding onto both him and Bagi. Coughing filled the room, the mixed sounds of the three filling the air, as the heavy pollution filled their lungs. They shook with fear, but they kept going. Eventually they reached the door, Cellbit stood up and grabbed the key that sat by the door, and unlocked it. They rushed outside, the bright colours of red and blue flashed across their vision, burning into their eyes. Blue. Red. Blue. Red. Blue. Red.
“MÚMIA!” Bagi screamed.
“PAPAI!” Cellbit yelled.
“MAMÃE? PAPAI? ONDE VOCÊ ESTÁ?” Tubbo screeched.
The whole of the Favela district appeared to be on fire; many emergency vehicles crowded the streets. Cellbit looked to the sky, the dark night was filled with beautiful stars, but up above there were two men fighting. Hero Cucurucho and Villain Cucurevil. Cucurucho sent fire balls in Cururevil’s direction, which the villain expertly dodged. The villain didn’t appear to be attacking the hero, instead only throwing objects in self-defence, using his powers of telekinesis to fly, watching Cucurucho standing on a building, the hero having no powers of flight himself. It was pathetic. The hero, somebody who was supposed to save the city was instead destroying it and the villain was simply protecting himself. Cellbit resonated with that. He was often labelled as dangerous or cruel at school but he simply protected himself or Bagi or Tubbo.
Bagi looked to the sky, the dark night was filled with beautiful stars, but up above there were two men fighting. Hero Cucurucho and Villain Cucurevil. Fire balls filled the sky as Cucurucho attempted to save the city from Cucurevil. The villain was flying above, probably having had an evil plot foiled. Bagi was happy that Cucurucho was trying to help, they were all alive, so clearly he had done something, Cellbit and Tubbo were safe, she didn’t know where her parents were but it was fine. Cucurucho may be causing damage but he was only trying to help. Bagi resonated with that. She was often labelled as a hazard at school simply because she tried to help.
Tubbo looked to the sky, the dark night was filled with beautiful stars, but up above there were two men fighting. Hero Cucurucho and Villain Cucurevil. Tubbo watched in horror as the two fought, Cucurucho sending useless fireballs in the villain’s direction and Cucurevil sending random objects flying towards Cucurucho, like cars. All the destruction was useless, it was hurtful and was ruining the lives of the civilians below, regardless of whether it was the hero or the villain’s intention. Tubbo didn’t resonate with it. He was often labelled as pathetic in school. He didn’t try to avoid bullies or protect anyone, he just watched, and whilst he did voice his concerns it wasn’t enough.
Screaming was all that could be heard, the cries of many children, women and men were carried through the night. Suddenly a fireball crashed into the side of their house. Their parents' room collapsing in on itself. Bagi wailed. Tubbo gasped. Cellbit was stunned. The three children rushed over to their parents’ bodies, Bagi cradling her mother in her arms, begging for her to wake up. Cellbit rushed over to his father and began performing CPR, but it didn't work. Tubbo just stood there, staring. A hand fell over his shoulder, a firefighter.
“Me desculpe garoto,” the man frowned, “Precisamos evacuar todos vocês,” (I’m sorry kid, we need to evacuate you all)
Tubbo nodded. He stepped forwards to go fetch Bagi, to fetch Cellbit but a hand held him back. He was yanked backwards by the firefighter as he screamed and begged for his siblings, but it was too noisy for anyone to hear. Too noisy for Bagi to hear. Too noisy for Cellbit to hear.
Bagi swallowed. Tears covering her face and her mother’s hair. She sobbed into her mum’s body, her corpse. She choked on her own tears. She squeezed her mother tightly, afraid to let go. Afraid of her disappearing. She could hear Cellbit beside her, and his futile attempt to resurrect their father. A hand was placed on her shoulder, a police officer.
“Me desculpe, garota” the man said, “É hora de deixar ir, precisamos tirar você daqui e levá-lo para um lugar seguro,” (I’m sorry kid, it's time to let go, we need to get you out of here and to a safe place,)
Bagi nodded. Her arms trembled as she attempted to let go, the officer helping her. She grabbed ahold of him instead. He carried her away. She looked at Cellbit, still attempting but she couldn’t spot Tubbo. She couldn’t see him. Where was he?
Cellbit was exhausted. CPR was difficult for an adult but he was twelve, he wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long, and deep down he knew there was no point, but he kept going, tears rolling down his face. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Twenty-three. Twenty-four. Twenty- Five. Twenty-Six. Twenty-Seven. Twenty-Eight. Twenty-Nine. Thirty. Rescue breath. One. Two. Three. He was about to repeat the compressions but somebody pulled him back. He turned to see a paramedic.
“Me desculpe garoto,” the woman smiled sullenly, “Ele está morto... venha comigo, vamos verificar seus ferimentos e ter certeza de que você está bem,” (I’m sorry kid, he's dead... come with me, let's check your injuries and make sure you're okay,)
Cellbit nodded. He turned out to grab Bagi, to grab Tubbo, but neither of them were there. Where had they gone? The paramedic held his hand as he was led to the back of an ambulance where at least ten other children were kept, but none included Tubbo or Bagi. He prayed to whatever god was listening, and prayed that they would be safe.
That was the last time the three of them saw each other. This one event, destroyed their childhood home, killed their parents, separated them all and scarred them for life. It changed the way they all thought, Cellbit began blaming the heroes, the people who claimed to protect civilians but instead killed them. Bagi began blaming villains, the people who fought for no reason, endangering civilians and killing them. Tubbo began blaming the system of heroes and villains, it was pointless either they fought for the same thing in different ways or they fought for nothing at all.
Cellbit sat in the back of an ambulance, beside ten other children. All of them were equally as scared as he was. He couldn’t see his siblings, hopefully they were being checked out in other ambulances and would meet him at a hospital or in an orphanage or something. This event had been catastrophic but hopefully there would be some order to reunite siblings or something.
Cellbit watched as some of the paramedics used healing powers to stitch up the simpler wounds, making sure children didn’t die from infection. Not many adults had survived the attacks. His parents hadn’t. He had failed. But at least Bagi and Tubbo were still alive. Hopefully. He hadn’t received his powers yet, nor had Bagi, despite them both being twelve, most children received their powers between the ages of ten and fifteen, so he had time left before being labelled as powerless and honestly he hoped he would be. Most children were desperate for powers, but that meant being labelled by the government and being forced into certain careers, such as superhero, or doctor.
His hands shook, covered in his father’s blood. If he had been discovered by the police on a normal day he would have been arrested for murder. Prison didn’t actually sound too bad to him. It was a place with order and structure, it was a place with food and beds, it was a place for people like him. He was just a child though, and had no plans of committing a crime to land him in prison.
“Com licença,” he coughed, “Você sabe onde meu irmão e minha irmã estão?” (Excuse me, do you know where my brother and sister are?)
“Todas as crianças estão sendo documentadas no hospital, podemos tentar encontrá-las lá,” (All the children are being documented at the hospital, we can try to find them there,)
“Qual hospital?” (Which hospital?)
“Hospital Saint Felps no bairro da Favela” (Saint Felps hospital in the Favela district)
“Obrigado,”
“Sem problemas, quais são os nomes deles?” (No problem, what are their names?)
“Bagi e Toby,”
Cellbit sat down, the metal of the ambulance hot against his back. His home was engulfed in flames. He had grown up in Favela, and yet it was burning to a crisp. The smoke singed his nostrils, but he wasn’t burnt so he couldn’t complain. All the other children in the ambulance he was in seemed to be okay, but he looked to another and a small boy about two years old had burn marks across his entire body. He flinched, if that were Toby- No. No. He didn’t think about that, instead he attempted to help the paramedics and the other children in his ambulance. The doors slammed as they slowly began to move, away from the fires, away from the ongoing conflict, away from his home.
Bagi sat in the back of a police car, being handed a bottle of water, which she drank slowly. The officers were talking all around her but she couldn’t make out their words, perhaps they were speaking French, or Spanish, or English, or German, or Korean, or maybe they were just speaking Portuguese and she couldn’t understand. She was shaking. Her arms clutched the bottle, refusing to let go, refusing to ease the pressure.
Some of the police had powers of force fields, she watched as they used them to protect other children from flying debris. She smiled in awe, hoping to one day help people like them, or perhaps like Cucurucho was trying to do. She hadn’t received her powers yet, nor had Cellbit, despite them both being twelve, most children received their powers between the ages of ten and fifteen, so she had time left before being labelled as powerless and she desperately hoped she wouldn’t be. She wanted to help others, whatever it took.
Her eyes hurt, no more tears to cry. The salty residue had dried on her face, her lungs had no more oxygen to scream, and she had no more energy to fight. Her mother was dead. Her father was dead. Her siblings were missing. She was alone. But she would find them again. One day.
“Com licença,” she asked, “Você pode me ajudar a encontrar meus irmãos?” (Excuse me, can you help me find my brothers?)
“Eles já devem ter sido transferidos para um hospital próximo, nós o levaremos a um para tentar encontrá-los,” (They should have already been transferred to a nearby hospital, we will take you to one to try to find them,)
“Qual hospital?”
“O hospital Lucky Ducks no bairro de Quesadilla,” (The Lucky Ducks hospital in the Quesadilla district)
“Obrigada,”
The door to the car slammed in her face. She turned around and strapped herself in. The car began to move forwards, slowly, every vehicle had decided to move at once, but she’d be able to see her brothers again soon and that was all that mattered. They had all survived and they would survive together.
Tubbo sat beside a fire truck. His vitals were being taken by a firefighter, but he was zoned out, not really focusing on their instructions. He had watched Cellbit as he was dragged into the back of an ambulance, and he had watched Bagi as she was guided to a police car. He had faith though, that they’d meet again soon. He felt a squeeze on his arm as the firefighter checked his blood pressure.
Some of the firefighters had elemental powers of water and fire, manipulating the elements before Tubbo’s eyes. Neither him, nor Bagi, nor Cellbit had received their powers yet, if they would even ever get them, he wasn’t old enough for one anyway. Tubbo didn’t care whether he got a power or not, he had decided to help people regardless a long time ago, he wanted to be a good person, not somebody driven by greed.
His lungs burnt, smoke having built up inside, but he had been given an oxygen mask. The oxygen tasted sweet as it filled his chest. He was scared. As any eight-year-old would be. But he had to be strong. He couldn’t cry, not until he had Bagi’s arms to rest in, and Cellbit’s watchful eye protecting him.
“Com licença,” he asked, “Você sabe onde meu irmão e minha irmã estarão?” (Excuse me, do you know where my brother and sister will be?)
“Todo mundo vai para hospitais diferentes, mas nós vamos levá-lo a um e esperamos que pelo menos um deles esteja lá,” (Everyone goes to different hospitals, but we'll take you to one and hopefully at least one of them will be there,)
“Qual hospital?”
“O hospital Fobo no distrito de Fobo,” (The Fobo hospital in the Fobo district)
“Obrigado,”
He however, was not immediately taken to a hospital like his siblings. The firefighters were tasked with ensuring nothing else burnt down whilst the battle continued. Tubbo watched the battle continue, staring at Cucurucho’s fireballs, and Cucurevil’s expert dodging of them. Suddenly one of the fireballs stopped midair. Cucurucho froze, but the fireball didn’t return in his direction. It was flung off to the side, towards Tubbo. He couldn’t move in time. He was stuck. Waiting to be hit for what felt like years but was realistically milliseconds.
Heat. Surging, hot, heat hit the side on his face. Burns crawled their way across his face, scorching his once perfect skin. He clamped his eyes shut, but it was too late. He would later be determined medically blind in his right eye, and had lost mobility in his right arm, and whilst physical therapy will eventually help him, he had a long way to go first. Pain erupted from his body, as well as screams exploded from his chest, begging for the pain, for the agony to stop. Tears aggravated his burns more, he couldn’t cry, and yet he couldn’t stop, couldn’t see, and yet he couldn’t stop seeing the fireball rushing towards him, couldn’t feel and yet he couldn’t stop the pain.
When Cellbit arrived at the hospital he saw chaos. Many children were burnt, many adults were dying or dead, the hospital of Saint Felps was drowning in patients. He sat down and watched as it unfolded, staring at the door, hoping, praying that he’d see Bagi or Toby walk inside.
Momentarily a nurse came up to him, checked him for burns, a concussion and other injuries but upon discovering that he had none, asked for his personal details so she could mark it down. She informed him that a social worker would be arriving soon to take all the healthy children to an orphanage.
Each district on Quesadilla island had working sectors, living sectors, and recreational sectors. Favela had two working sectors, five living sectors, and one recreational sector, however only one of the living sectors was affected in the attack. Cellbit knew that he'd probably be taken to an orphanage in one of the other four living sectors. He stared at his hands, they hadn’t stopped shaking, and he had yet to wash off his father’s blood, none of the nurses or doctors had seemed to notice, otherwise he would have expected them to freak out. Other children like him, uninjured but alone, had noticed and had all decided to sit further away from him.
Another round of people entered the hospital, a boy with pink hair, a boy with a blue hoodie, and some others, but no Toby, no Bagi. He turned his gaze to the floor, he had accepted that they probably weren’t going to be at this specific hospital, he just hoped that they were together, and they’d reunite in foster care so he’d see them later anyway.
“Podemos sentar aqui?” the boy in the blue hoodie asked. (Can we sit here?)
“Sim,” Cellbit nodded.
“Obrigado,” the pink-haired boy smiled.
When Bagi arrived at the hospital, she was incredibly disorientated. They mainly spoke English and Spanish, and she only spoke Portuguese. She could vaguely work out when the Hispanics spoke to her, but she couldn’t understand the anglophones spoke to her. She was scared, she didn’t have her big brother to protect her, nor her baby brother to hold tight. There weren’t many children at the hospital she was at, mainly adults, who all appeared to be desperately fighting for their lives whilst hooked up to machines.
She watched as the nurses desperately rushed between patients. She listened as heart monitors stopped beeping. She smelt the tang of iron in blood as people bled out. She tasted the stale hospital water that every sick, coughing person had been instructed to drink. She felt the rubber of the gloves whilst the doctors checked her for injuries.
She was in the Quesadilla district of Quesadilla island, the main part. She was in the richest part of the island, everyone here had money, in fact the hospital was probably the fanciest building that she had ever seen.
“Hi sweetheart,” a woman approached her.
“Desculpe, não falo inglês,” Bagi mumbled. (Sorry, I don’t speak English)
“Oh, minhas desculpas,” the woman smiled, “Qual o seu nome?” (Oh, my apologies, what’s your name?)
“Bagi…”
“Onde estão seus pais?” (Where are your parents?)
“Morto…” (Dead…)
“Ahh… bem, tenho uma proposta para você,” (Ahh… well, I have a proposition for you,)
Tubbo woke up after three days, he was in a hospital bed, with a bandage covering his right eye and another covering his right arm. His whole body ached. He could hear nurses speaking in another language, perhaps Spanish? He wasn’t quite sure but it was all muffled especially since his ear was also covered by the bandage covering his eye.
He smelt of burnt flesh. He didn’t like that smell. It made him feel sick. He was burnt flesh because two people decided that fighting in a civilian area was a good idea. Both the hero and the villain were to blame, it was ridiculous. Because of them Tubbo had lost Bagi, Cellbit and both his parents.
Eventually one of the doctors appeared to check his injuries. She smiled at his non-covered eye and began to assess his burns and apply ointments and creams. Tubbo winced, his skin was hot and painful, but she was careful, kind.
“Onde estão meus irmãos?” (Where are my siblings?)
“Ah, não tenho certeza,” the woman said sadly, “Eles provavelmente já estarão em um orfanato, você dormiu por três dias,” (Ah, I’m not sure, they'll probably be in an orphanage by now, you slept for three days,)
“Que?”
“Sim, você tem sido um menino sonolento,” (Yes, you've been a sleepy boy,)
“Eu quero Cellbo, eu quero Bagi, eu quero minha mamãe, eu quero meu papai,” (I want Cellbo, I want Bagi, I want my mummy, I want my daddy,)
“Qual o seu nome?” (What’s your name?)
“Toby Lange,”
“Vou procurar seu nome em nosso sistema,” (I will look for your name in our system,)
“Obrigado,” he sniffled.
There it was, the event that split up the children, causing them all to begin exceedingly different lives.
Cellbit, horrified by the actions of the heroes, the people supposed to protect those in danger, those without powers, began a life of villainy. He began that path with simple stealing from shops, or pickpocketing, aided by his newly discovered power. but it eventually led to murder. He was incarcerated in the juvenile section of Alcatraz. From there Cellbit’s life gradually decreased further into the path of villainy. When he was released escaped from prison, he met a villain by the name of the CrowFather. The CrowFather was a hybrid of human and crow, he possessed wings and talons and was one of the most infamous villains of the time. Cellbit made a decision that day. He thought back to that day. The day he lost his entire family, the day where he witnessed the final fight between Cucurucho and Cucurevil. Cucurucho was still alive. Cucurevil was not. When the Crowfather offered Cellbit a place under his wing, to learn, to be protected. He couldn’t deny that offer. He had been on the streets since prison, and he had no intention to return, and the CrowFather was notorious for not getting caught.
Bagi, awestricken by the actions of heroes, and their determination to protect those in danger, those without powers, began a heroic path. She began that path with an education, she was eventually adopted by a kind couple, two people who praised heroes and aided Bagi in life. She was sent to hero school, where she discovered her power. She trained for many gruesome years, debating giving up, but she never did. She had a woman called Elena as her mentor, and whilst Elena was never a hero, she was an inventor and made every hero’s suit. She specialised Bagi’s one, spending months on the design before Bagi’s debut as a hero. Her first few nights out protecting the town she spent under the guidance of Etoiles, who was one of the only two heroes whose names were known to the public. When she finally began working as a hero, no longer on probation, she thought back to that day. The day she lost her entire family, the day where she witnessed the final fight between Cucurucho and Cucurevil. Cucurucho was still alive and acted as a mentor for new and upcoming heroes. Cucurevil didn’t survive that fight, she had spoken to Cucurucho and whilst he said he regretted killing him, he determined that the action had to of happened.
Tubbo, confused by the actions of heroes, and surprised by the actions of villains, didn’t begin a heroic path or a villainous one, he simply remained neutral. He wasn’t adopted; in fact, he ended up on the streets multiple times. He hadn’t discovered his power, instead decided he was one of the unfortunate, one of the powerless. He didn’t really care. He wasn’t adopted; however, he did meet some good friends. Whilst he was on the streets, he met a man called Pac. He was an amputee as well as an ex-convict, but Tubbo didn’t care. He was kind and that was all that mattered to him. He had an unregistered power of healing, but Tubbo didn't know. They stayed on the streets together for a while, Tubbo got a job, Pac did too, they moved into an apartment together, Pac got a new job, one which was remote, and he never left the house again. Tubbo then met Fit. The man began as a customer at the coffee shop he worked at, and became a friend through questions. Fit was curious about how somebody so young could work. Eventually Fit met Pac, and he moved in, the three of them barely surviving on their jobs, but they were happy. Or at least that's the story they told people... the truth was that Fit was a veteran shoved onto the streets and without Pac and Tubbo he would be dead. Tubbo frequently thought back to that day. The day he lost his entire family, but he had a new one now, and whilst they didn’t replace the old one, they were his and that was what mattered.
The three children all grew up extremely differently, despite being born from the same two parents. They did however have some similarities. They all learnt English, they all visited the site of the battle once a year, they all gained a power, not that Tubbo knew it, and they all grieved over the loss of each other, despite them all surviving.
The Federation controlled the Green (gay) Ninjas, also known as the heroes. The villains formed a group called Bolas, united them as a force to be reckoned with. The vigilantes, whilst not forming a group, did often help each other, naming their occasional assistance as Soulfire.
The heroes were famous, containing big names such as Etoiles, the Sergeant, the Wastelander, although he appears later, Spider-man, Craft, Ghost, the Scribe, ElQuackity, the Iron lady, the General, and DJ. They were known for being good, having great intentions and protecting those in peril.
The villains were infamous for their chaos. They also contained big names such as the CrowFather, Duck, Cannibal, Saint of Death, Totem, BlueBird, El backflipo, Vegetta, the only named Bolas, and Rex. They were known for tormenting the public and murdering those who got in their way.
The vigilantes were known for their neutrality; they often publicly spoke about their hate for both the heroes and the villains. They too contained big names such as Aypierre, Halo, Boogie Man, Mermaid, Arin, Missa, Shell Keeper, Tazer, although he appears later, Pol, Rivers, The GOAT, and finally Creation, although he too appears later. Quite a few of the vigilantes used their real names, too fed up with the system to play into it to create their own, and they were good enough at evading the heroes to get caught, even with their real identities for everyone to see.
These three groups weren't friendly with each other, they often fought in public, but that was the way society worked on Quesadilla island.
Our story begins through the perspective of a young boy, only sixteen, who had been through hell and back. Tubbo, who had decided to change his name from Toby, is the main perspective we shall follow through, however there will be others, such as his siblings, Cellbit and Bagi, and maybe even his friends Fit and Pac. Each perspective is unique and nobody is truly evil, everyone believes they are in the right, as that is human nature but what opinion will you hold of them?