A/N: So I came up with a little something while I was playing Sly 4 and keeping up with SGB's playthrough of Sly 3.

I don't know how it came up to be honest. I just kinda sat there and then it came to me. What if Sly did this instead of thieving?

I figured I'd give this a go and see how it went. And so far, I'm really liking the idea. I can only hope you do too.

It'll be rated T for now, but it's probably gonna go to M for the dark, mature theme and overall atmosphere I'm incorporating into this.


0: PROLOGUE

Here I am. Standing over the rooftops, looking out over the dreary but bright scenery of Paris. Alone to wallow in my own thoughts. Some say it's "brooding". I say it's "self-discovery".

It's strange. The contrast this city offers. The pouring rain and the gray skies over the evening make it dark. Yet the city lights refuse to give in to the rain's overhanging atmosphere. It reminds me of the people's hope for something better, ignorant of the reality at hand.

I used to give into this same naive vision as well.

But then I grew up.

All of them should be grateful. Grateful for my watchful eye. These police are complete fools. Meaningless pawns who cannot save others for their own incompetent demeanor. But I guess not all are useless...like that woman.

I sigh with a great heave and turn upwards towards the downpour. The rain hits my face and drips down. It's almost as if I can feel these past sins, these transgressions, wash away and melt into the sweet nothingness of puddles. But whoever said what I felt was true?

This rain...it awoke me to my past. That same scene...in this same county...on this day...the death of my own kin. And the pillage of my home. It hurts me to revision my father's own downfall. At the same time, I knew. This event would lead me to the path I took.

This road I'm on...I have no idea what my father would say or think. Would he smile? No. Not with the blood I shed in the name of justice. My mother would be supportive. Perhaps. Or not. I don't know. My mother is a blur in my mind. But I do know she was there for me in the past. Alive for me, caring for my well-being. But one year later she fell too...against those same damn criminals.

When I came out of that orphanage and found all five of them in my early adulthood...it felt good to kill them. I was satisfied in fulfilling my hate-filled revenge.

At that point, I plunged too deep in the hatred and darkness to turn back. I accepted this black heart and made it my destiny to make light out of the dark. The result? My ancestry left in the dust. Would I care? No, not then, not now, not ever. For I am content with what I am, not caring if I may be a monster. If I am a monster...then I shall accept it. At least this monster is doing something right in the world.

With my reflection over, I took my helmet into my own hands and looked at it. My sweater, my Kevlar vest, my gloves, my boots, and even this helmet. All soaked in the rain. I slipped the helmet on and looked through the glass at the impending droplets. I slipped on my old cap too, this also being drenched.

Well...I have been baptized by the rain. And now I shall sin again like all men do. For it is my duty to sin...for the good of the people.