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"I don't know what this 'feeling' is, but..."
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"...stay with me. Don't go away."
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Even with the records of crimes of your past ancestors, the MBCC had promised to give you security at all costs. In exchange, y...
A/n: The motivation to write again is returning back yippeee
Word count: 2489
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"I'm a psychopath that thrives on schadenfreude, hahaha!"
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You don't know how you found yourself being here. There's nothing in front of you but a dancing heat of flames and people...people killing each other. The sound of a sharp knife being taken out of someone's flesh as blood flows causes a small wince to slip your lips.
"Why don't you come with us, Y/n?" That's the words the Chief had said to you back in the Bureau. You're not sure why, but you agreed. "Perhaps you might find the 'answers' you're looking for." 'Answers' that word had pulled and fooled you perhaps. The desire to find the truth is shaking you through your consciousness. Who knows? The Chief may not be wrong.
Yet, you're starting to regret it. Sure, you're used to seeing deceased people, but seeing this amount of them felt like something had triggered deep within you. Especially in a chaotic place like this. It's making you crazy.
It's only good when Adjutant Nightingale gives you another cloak to use. It pretty much hid your entire face against this stranger. After all, you don't want your identity to continue spreading across the entire DisCity. The last gossip you've heard about yourself was years ago.
"Have you heard about it? The Clemence's youngest son/daughter went missing." Even until now, those rumors never left your mind. There are a lot of theories of how and why you just disappeared like that, alas, none were right nor close to the point. The MBCC really did a great job of hiding you, no?
Perhaps not.
The local security precinct that has promised the Chief to support us is just ahead. Its grand gates have already been blasted down. Nearly a hundred gangs are fighting right under its nose.
