MANHA
She is the women from the deadly assassin organization it's called as 'The Cobra's. She appointed for the dangerous task. She asked to enter into the most cunning kingdom 'Kashmora' the kingdom specialised for 'Black Magic'.
She is only 15 a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The grave is an unknown patch of land, a forgotten corner of the kingdom. It is marked by the domain Cobras, whose name echoes a chilling reminder of the massive threat of the world.
In other words, it's an aloof place where happiness fades. It is surrounded by steep mountains that shroud its mystery. It's a one-way journey: "Once you enter, there is no way to turn back until death".
In that desolate dungeon, our sole water source is a murmuring brook, its gentle flow a constant companion as it meanders over smooth stones. In this forsaken place, the sun's radiant down and twilight remain forever here. Yet, even in this dim existence, the afternoon sun casts its fleeting light upon us, a bittersweet reminder that "amidst the encroaching darkness, still a glimpse of hope for survival".
We are the forgotten victims of the war, the lost children abandoned by their parents, and the marginalized souls degenerated, cast out by the cruel society end up here as the hostages.
Whose lives are marked by hardship and adversity, have led to this place of servitude.
They gave us sustenance, shelter, and a semblance of security. In exchange, we pledge our lives to the Cobra's. These bloodthirsty animals used our despair and traded with our life. They used us as human weapons, binding us to them until our last breath. They forged our lives.
None of us knew whom we were working for. The puppet master behind the Cobra is a shadowy figure, Their identity is a forbidden mystery. The deeper we delve into them it's just attempting suicide, the more you know the more threat you would face.
We are pawns in this grand game, each assigned to a specific facet for the Cobra. The Cobra has four sections that split us depending on our abilities. Our section leaders, our so-called 'masters,' wield absolute authority over us, treating us as nothing more than weapons to be deployed.
I am, as a 'Mayfly,' a lowly D-grade assassin, my role is to taste the poison, a dangerous task that mirrors the fleeting nature of our lives. Our existence is as fragile as the insects gambling with death. we are sealed fated, 'Mayflies' is not just a catchy word it consists of the meaning."Die and waiting to die".
