I woke up to my roommate and best friend missing. In her place was a note on my bedside table that read: You can only find me with your eyes closed.
No one thinks a note like that is meant for them.
I knew it was meant for me, a clue, a way to seek Justice.
Whoever left me that note was hoping I didn’t let my parent’s legacy die when they did. They wanted to see what kind of warfare I was capable of.
Justice before starting a war with the man who wrote the rule book...

I woke up everyday to the same nonsensical bullshit that was my life.
They say only bad things only happen after dark but I was the exception to every rule. I was bad and I happened whenever I wanted.
I wanted someone to challenge me, put me in my place, force me to be better than war strategies and hold the audacity to traipse across enemy lines.
A pink haired receptionist wasn’t my first choice for shaking my resolve.
I can still smell her but I wanted to know if she’d taste like Victory.
Death before dishonor meant not losing to her…