For years a city fought a battle that seemed impossible to control as drug dealers were hiding in the dense jungle by night, killing and causing terror by day. The international community intervened after a group of tourists was murdered and local authorities could no longer control the situation. Soldiers were sent to the area but unfamiliar to the jungle were slaughtered by the criminals. It was then formed a special group called Turons, in honour of the native warriors who protected villages in the Upper Amazon long before cities exist. These legendary warriors were raised from childhood on the outskirts of the villages, hunting to eat and had no family, they were always the orphans. Inspired by the warriors, they were the protectors of the night, assigned to infiltrate the jungle, hunt and kill the criminals. They became legend. The attacks to the city and villages ceased some time later as criminals began to fear the jungle, believing that something evil now occupy it. But after a few years and nothing to aim for, most of the warriors disappeared into the jungle; some of them went mad, forgotten by the authorities that created them. Some were killed by hunter's traps, others fighting with members of their own. Years later, a man showed up in one of the villages. Very hurt, his body bore terrible marks, with blood all over his hands and face; nothing was known about him. The man had terrible nightmares, his screams filling the air with fear. The natives dubbed him Kaluana. Once recovered, he disappeared. Four years have passed and Kaluana still had vague memories of the native village that had helped him. They were his only real memories. With nowhere to go, he just wanted to forget the past and go back to the village. But on moonless nights his past still visited him, reminding of what he wanted to forget forever, what he once was. His soul was the scene of a black war, and this part was just surfacing.