A very small note: the prologue has, currently, little bearing on the story, it's merely the set-up. Things won't really get properly started until around chapter 3 or 4, which are case-chapters. And another thing: each pronoun you see here refers to a different character, to clear any confusion, and any chapter set in this time period will likewise be written without any names being given (though some of them might be obvious). As to a final note, each chapter is told from the point of view of a different character.

- Prologue -

3 December, 2039

A long time ago, or so it seems, we thought that those days were over. Yet… The dark days of the law were far, far from over… How stupid we were, to think it was that easy…

He stood at the bus stop, leaning against the building behind him, his arms folded. He gave off the distinct impression of someone who did not want to be talked to. His eyes were closed, and there was a small frown on his face as he sensed everyone skirting around him nervously, staring at the disgraced attorney.

Then again, every member of the law enforcement is in disgrace… How we ever let things get like this… well, it's not hard to figure out. We thought we'd found salvation, and that we'd finally dispelled the darkness. We found out the hard way that it takes more than a handful of people to bring law to its knees. We fell into a trap.

He sighed, his breath rising in a thick mist from under the collar of his coat. Things had seemed so simple and bright back then. With that man back behind the bench where that man belonged, the law's dark days had seemed like they were brightening. Everything felt so natural and surreal, even in hindsight of what had preceded that. Perhaps it was a bias, but he had thought that nothing could go wrong, and he was right at first, or so it seemed. Faith and trust had been resurrected in the law, thanks to the unnaturally dangerous combination of those two people.

Those two people were an enigma, something to be envied. Enemies who trust each other implicitly. Of course, I have some idea what that's like…They trust me just fine, after all, and we've always worked together to bring down the true culprit of every murder, but now… even the legendary duo, those two people, had trouble discerning who the real killers were. Even I can't prove anything. Our law is broken.

The bus drew up to the curb, and he pushed himself off of the wall with his shoulders, ignoring the searing pain that shot through his body at the movement. He took a seat at the back of the bus, still frowning and gazing out the window. It was still dark out, despite it being almost nine in the morning, owing no doubt to the dark clouds high above, which were threatening snow, at least according to the weatherman. Considering the cold, it was believable; though he wasn't sure it was entirely the weather's fault for the continuous chill.

Truth be told, he didn't even know why he was going to do when he reached his destination. He stepped off the bus some untold time later (as if he cared) he was hailed the moment he set foot in the courthouse. Well, if they wanted to talk, they'd have to wait until it was convenient. Still, he was caught up to owing to the fact that he hadn't bothered to pick up his pace, and turned roughly around.

"Didn't you hear me?" they demanded. "I have something I need to talk to you about. Can you come with me, please?"

This was considered for a moment, his expression wholly unreadable. Well, effort had been made to catch him, and he had his suspicions about what on earth they could possibly want. He sighed heavily, uncrossing his arms and placing his hands in his pockets. They correctly interpreted this as an affirmation, and began to lead the way to one of the lobbies. Unsurprisingly, she was there, biting her thumb in an absentminded sort of way.

Oh man… what do these two want? They look like someone just died. Which… isn't all too impossible. Still, they tend to look like this a lot when we wander too close to the topic of law. Looking like someone has just died… isn't a far cry from the truth, especially since, usually, someone has died or disappeared. Usually it was someone within our faction, for lack of a better word for it. Secret organisation? That girl used to call it a brigade, always with that sunny smile on her face…

"We've got a mission for you."

A raised eyebrow was the only acknowledgement this statement was given, and she, after a moment's hesitation, sped on with a very fast run-down of the mission in question. He had already received some word about this mission before, but since last night, he was now the only one they could afford to send. He listened, leaning against the back of the bench for witnesses to sit on with his arms folded again and his eyes shut, taking in every word she was saying, despite appearances. She pressed something tiny into his palm as she spoke, explaining it (despite him already being aware of what it was). The mission was vital, the two of them said, and it could no longer wait. Both seemed to hold their breath, waiting for the answer.

A mission, huh?