"What are you doing?" she asks as she deflects your sword. Her mouth is a sneer, but her eyes are sincere.

"My duty," you answer. Your mouth is set, but your eyes have doubts.

"Well why? Ever heard of a vacation?" she dodges a jab. She is impertinent, but more sensitive than anyone has been in a while.

"My life used to be one. But now I have purpose." You wonder just what that has become.

"Well I don't think massacring a bunch of teenagers is better than lying on a beach, but to each their own." She spins and stabs. Her eyes roll, but her cheeks flush.

You block her dagger, but don't respond.

She gives you a nod that looks so final, then sprays perfume in your face. Givenchy.

Smells like a choice.