Chapter 1: Dark Mirror

The streets were quiet these days. That was a welcome change from the primal bloodshed that plagued Roanapur just under three months ago. A period of peace was long overdue. The dark city's residents were glad that things were finally returning to normal. Roanapur had seen nothing but death, betrayal and bloodshed since the arrival of a certain shadowy assassin over a year ago now. Though he had no hostile intentions for the city himself, those that followed him did. The depraved leader of Wolf Pack, Sif, sought only revenge and death from the city she forced her way into. Kane, the underestimated commander of the Black Marchers, did his best to topple the very city, and came dangerously close, too. Finally, there had been Godswrath, the former S.A.S. task force. They were in another league entirely, their skill and prowess unmatched by even the fiercest criminals Roanapur had to offer. Their leader was lucky to be alive. Lucille gently traced the scar on her forehead. The bullet that almost killed her had been an angry, rage-filled attempt to snatch the life from her body. She counted her blessings every day that she was not dead along with her squad mates right now. It saddened her to think of them. They fought hard, loyal to a fault. They followed her to this city with the intentions of doing good, of crushing those who would continue living in the filth and helping those who struggled to survive. As it turned out, that was a more idyllic dream than Lucille ever considered. They had come close. The image of Roanapur's leaders on their knees in the city's outskirts was still fresh in Lucille's mind. She had them all at her mercy, her gun pressed against the forehead of the man she had hunted for ages. Were it not for his manipulatively charismatic words, she would have gunned down the three crime lords without a second thought and the city would be hers to mould as she saw fit. But none of that mattered now. There was no Godswrath, no potential to cleanse this city. That was all over. And Lucille did not even care anymore. That was what scared her most of all. Before she took that bullet to the head, she was hell bent on burning this city's degenerates and building something great. Now, she was content to live in the filth, just like those she hunted. It was a drastic change, one that did not sit that well with her yet. In time, she would learn to cope with the darkness, to accept it into her life. She was certainly more capable than some others who tried and failed to dip into their darker selves in order to make a difference. The breeze was cool today as it ran through her blood red hair, sweeping it back behind her ears. She had neglected to tie it into a ponytail as she so often did. The grassy plain she had been told to come to was not a place she recognised, nor was it near Roanapur. It was out of the way, further into the countryside than she would have liked. Had it not been the Wolf that had called her here, she would never have trusted the message that had been left for her. She strode up behind the assassin, wearing only her tank top, combat pants and boots. The ruins and wrecks of old vehicles littered the landscape here. Some destructive battle had taken place, it appeared. There was a mound of earth before the assassin, one that looked as though it hid the long dead remains of a human body. Lucille fell in beside Wolf.

"Not sure exactly why you chose this spot," she told him. In truth, she had asked to see him. When she learned that he was still in Roanapur, she wanted to speak with him. She had no friends in the city and Wolf was the closest thing to an acquaintance she could think of. It certainly beat laying around her apartment in her underwear drinking like she so often did these days. Despite insistence from the assassin that she find work, she had done no such thing since moving to the city.

"This is where I buried Sif," Wolf explained, gesturing to the mound of earth with one gloved hand. "What do you know about her? You mentioned her name to Rock at one point, if I remember." Lucille furrowed her brow as she attempted to recall anything she had heard about Wolf Pack's leader, which was little.

"Not as much as you're probably hoping," she admitted. "I heard she was dangerous. And that she was training people as assassins." Wolf nodded.

"Yes she was," he exhaled, his voice quite forlorn. "Sif was…well, she was a sort of mentor to me. She was training me as one of her 'prototypes', one of her soldiers that would one day intercept and commandeer the property of rival criminal organisations. The collateral damage would have been catastrophic, obviously. So I declined. After that, she had me hunted down."

"Is that why she came to Roanapur?"

"Yeah," the assassin muttered after a period of silence. His eyes were unfocused and drowsy. "I never thought about it after that. I hated her for what she did, you know? I killed her and that was…justice, I suppose. For me. But after a while, it started to get to me. I couldn't get her out of my head. She was a massive part of my life. She's the reason I'm standing here right now. So I came back here a couple of months after, where the bodies of her people still rotted. I cleared them out, dumped them in the river. And I buried her." Neither of them spoke for several minutes.

"Why?" Lucille asked, placing her hands on her hips and looking curiously at the assassin. "I understand what she meant to you back then…but she was far darker than you could have imagined. You killed Wolf Pack's leader, not the woman who saved you from the streets."

"I told myself that," he said softly. "But…she was always like that. Even when she took me in, she was still the same woman. She just lied about it better then. I needed to put her in the ground, to get this shite out of my head." Again, there was a tense silence. Lucille was glad of the talk, even if the subject matter was rather unsettling. "Maybe I'm just going mad."

"No, I get it," Lucille told him. "Like my soldiers, right? Sure, your feelings for her weren't as kind, but she still meant a lot to you before she turned on you. That's not a feeling you can just ignore or get rid of. It sticks with you. You needed closure for the time you worked with her." That put it in a more comprehensive perspective for the Wolf. He did not truly understand himself why he came back to where his mentor had died, to bury her as sadly as one would bury a family member. She was a disturbingly callous woman, one who made a lot of enemies and betrayed even more friends. But the impression she made, the mark she left on Wolf, was not something that would ever leave him. The least he could do was give her some form of burial and put it out of his head for a while.

"I heard from Chang," he began, his voice now hoarse. He cleared his throat. "I think he wants to see you." Lucille groaned.

"Christ, don't tell me this is all coming back to bite me in the arse already."

"I don't think so," Wolf assured her with a smile. "Balalaika still thinks you're dead. If he's asked for you, it's probably about a job. I know I'm like a broken fucking record, but…you should consider it. Might be good to get out of that stuffy apartment and fire a gun again." Lucille managed a weak laugh at that.

"Maybe," she agreed reluctantly. Her hand subconsciously went to her waist, where her holster should have been. Her gun was still in her apartment, naturally.

"Speaking of your apartment, how's Rock's old place treating ya?" After Lagoon Company's most recent member returned to the criminal group once Godswrath had been taken down, Lucille was quick to take his apartment, one she recognised from the day she kidnapped him.

"Quiet," she told him. "Too damn quiet."