𝘼 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚.
𝘿𝙞𝙙 𝙄 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚?
𝙄 '𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙗𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙮𝙚 𝙤𝙧 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙'𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙖 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 - 𝙖 𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧, 𝙖 𝙛𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧, 𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧, 𝙖 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧, 𝙖 𝙨𝙤𝙣, 𝙖 𝙙𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧, 𝙖 𝙬𝙞𝙛𝙚, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙝𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙. 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚.
𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 '𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚: 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙧.
𝙄 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙬𝙣; 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙮, 𝙄 𝙫𝙖𝙡𝙪𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙬𝙣𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙬𝙣.
𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙬𝙣. 𝙄 '𝙢 𝙤𝙬𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨 ; 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙮. 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙥𝙪𝙩 𝙪𝙥 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙗𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙧. 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙄 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙙𝙤 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙩. 𝙄 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣'𝙩. 𝙍𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙄 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙙.
𝙈𝙮 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛, 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙤𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤. 𝙄 '𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨.
𝙏𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙄 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩, 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙄 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙙, 𝙮𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙄 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩.
𝙄𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮.
𝙁𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙤𝙢 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙚, 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩.
𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚, 𝙛𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙡 𝙙𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙗𝙮 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙙.
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙬𝙣 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙖, 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙙 ; 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙝𝙮𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙨𝙤 𝙥𝙨𝙮𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙘 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙨.
𝘼𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙮, 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙣, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙣.
𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙝.
𝙄𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙, 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝙞𝙩. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙩 ; 𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙤 𝙄 𝙩𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛.
𝙏𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙙𝙧𝙮, 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙣𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙨𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝; 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙚.
𝙏𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙙𝙧𝙮.
𝘼 𝙥𝙞𝙚𝙘𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙗𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜.
𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪.
𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙬𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣'𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙 ; 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨.
𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮, 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡, 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨. 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙡𝙮; 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚.
𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙩 𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙪𝙥 𝙤𝙣 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚.
𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮.
𝙃𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧, 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙬, 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙫𝙚. 𝘾𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙬 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙤𝙛 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙙𝙨, 𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙙. 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙜𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙫𝙚; 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙨.
𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙗𝙤𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙙𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙬?
𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙝 ; 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚.
𝙎𝙤 𝙛𝙡𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙙, 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙪𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚.
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𝙬𝙞𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧, 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧 ¹
Fanfiction『 Electra Light is a trained assassin that has been subjected to experimentation since birth. Hydra tortured and experimented on Electra before selling her off to SPECTRE, an unknown corporation with nefarious ambitions for the planet. This proceed...
