Prologue

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The sky is a platinum gray color, beautiful but dull.

Raindrops fall from the sky, splashing lightly against the concrete ground, creating somber melodies. A woman walks down the crumbling streets of an unknown city, her oversized coat draping down to her ankles, her black heels clicking softly on the ground. Her ginger hair is shoulder long, with slight waves held up by the wind. She stares up at the broken buildings around her, the once magnificent city that fell overnight, and sighs. She glances at the alleyway across the street cautiously, then heads into a glass structure to her left. Inside, there is shattered glass all over the floor, pictures of former presidents lay on the ground, some torn, others slashed apart with some kind of weapon. Dust covers everything, as if the building had been abandoned for decades, or even longer. The woman adeptly walks up the stairs in silence, taking a turn on the third floor into a room labeled "experimental lab room 307". She flips on the light, then turns and walks to a large device situated in the middle of the room, soothingly touching it.

"I'm so sorry..." she whispers.

Then she flips open a loose piece of metal to reveal a shining red button covered with glass. She closes her eyes and reaches towards it, but just then, she hears a voice behind her. One she knows all too well.

"Turn around." A deep male voice rings in the room, loud, clear and emotionless. The man wears a black suit, his hair slightly ruffled because of the wind. His blue eyes are piercing, but filled with seriousness, like a dark pit with no end. In his hand is a black gun with carefully carved engravings covering it.

"Right now." He repeats, his voice flat.

"Sure." The woman replies lightly. She turns around, facing the man. She looks at the man, then the gun in his hand, and smiles sadly. The man clicked the barrel into place and stares into the woman's eyes.
"This didn't have to happen." He mutters.

"I know."

"But you still made your choice. The wrong one."

"That's where you're wrong." She whispers, biting her lower lip. "I'm sorry."

In a split second, the woman reaches for the red button, pressing it down with all her energy. The unstable floorboards slightly shake from the impact as the sound of multiple fires echo in the building.

Bullets fly.

He shot her.

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