A week after Sherlock Holmes takes John Watson's advice, he finds himself on the edge of his bed with the company of a puzzle that is Irene Adler. Through the window where the light enters and floods the room, lies the world that has never felt so distant for him. His senses were heightened but limited to what only matters to him at this shared fraction of time; with his walls down, he stays in bed and lets her win a new round of a new game they don't realize they started playing.
The sound of hearts beat side by side
"I don't understand?"
Foot steps thudding, nowhere to hide
"Don't you know what's at hand?"
With nothing left, but only sin
"Please"
So let's stop... And let the games begin.
They say there's this person. A person who can make the most dangerous armies turn around and run, a person who would be great to fight beside but fearful to fight against, whose mind is as powerful as her weapons and whose skills are said to be equivalent to the gods. This person, this girl, this crimson rose. Told to be unstoppable, unbreakable, and unsolvable. Well, unsolvable until Sherlock Holmes.
"I don't know how this will end, but I do know one will rise and the other descends."