"Who is this beautiful statue
that stands against the darkening sky?
Who is this porcelain being,
carved of perfection?
She wears the color of blood,
but rings with the truth.
She is the only one
who can bear to walk the line between good and evil.
The deadly blades in her hands nearly dare you to come closer.
Her hair is black as night, just as half her soul.
Her skin is light as day, just as half her spirit.
Who is this angel?
Who is this demon?
Who is this creature of temptation?
Who is this black bird that flies free?
She rises against the very heavens themselves,
a mighty sign of wisdom.
She hides in the shadows,
waiting to strike.
In the wake of destruction, she stands still."
Elektra Natchios stood tall, her midnight black hair blowing in the coastal wind. The sunset was beautiful tonight, a pure vision of pinks, oranges, and yellows. She fingered the blades hanging from her belt as she stared out at the deceiving peace. From the beginning, this is what she'd feared. She'd worked alone, undisturbed, for six years straight. But now she was caught between good and evil. If she stayed with the Hand, they would do what they pleased with the Tablet of Time, and most likely kill Daredevil. If she took a stand and fought with the outsider, the Hand would turn against her, and she would be exiled forever. Was saving thousands of lives worth ruining hers? The warrior turned her back to the ocean and ran towards the place her heart was telling her to go.