My name is Leona Heidern, and I am an officer of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I'm 24 years old. I've been in the FBI for seven years. Strange, isn't it? My joining when I was only 18.

It's strange to me too, but I guess that when you grow up with a high-ranking officer as your father, it isn't too surprising to follow in his footsteps.

They call upon me to do most of the "toughest jobs", as they call it. I am, supposedly, their best officer. Best officer at killing, at least. That's what I am. A professional killer.

I am "the best of the best". Others know 17 ways to kill a person. I know 18.

Recently, I've been assigned to take down a computer hacker. Iri is her name. Apparently, she has been hacking into our files and selling them on the black market.

Tch...

It's a your typical case. A fat, disgruntled person with great talent decides that the best way to use his or her intelligence is to piss off the FBI.

Not very intelligent, in my opinion.

You're wondering why they'd send a me to kill a typical hacker.

According to the records, she is no typical hacker. She has sold valuable information to terrorists, enemy nations and even the couple down the street from me. She needs to be taken down, now.

They say I have a completely different personality when I fight. I personally don't see any difference. Aren't I always obedient, quick and efficient? Look at me. My eyes are always cold and piercing, no? They always seem emotionless.

What the hell are "they" smoking?

Sigh. Who knows...

I haven't had much progress so far; Iri is far too elusive. My co-workers are not much help, either. Ralf and Clark spend their time gambling and drinking. All brawn and no brains, I suppose. It's a wonder that they are one of the best.

However, in spite of their endless childishness, they are good people to work with. I share a relationship with both that I doubt anyone else has.

Whether that is a good thing, I do not know.

Here all three of us are, sitting inside my ramshackle excuse of an apartment. Clark and Ralf are watching "Miss Congeniality". I sit in front of my laptop browsing some random sites with Winamp playing "1000 no Kotoba".

Ralf yells: "Aww, come on, "Gracie Lou Freebush!" Sport that bikini already!"

I roll my eyes and look at the DVD case. Sandra Bullock smiles in her hot pink dress. I have a dress like that. I've never worn it though. I toss the case away.

Clark asks: "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing. Just some sites."

Clark shrugs, turns around and helps Ralf cheer on "Gracie".

A bee, a whir, and my hard-drive implodes.

I jump back, knocking down my chair.

Ralf screams: "What the fuck?"

What the fuck, indeed. That is the last time I go to an Athena fanpage.

Before my screen goes blank, a pop-up... pops up. It reads:

"You have been discovered. Please go away now."

Iri.

My laptop reboots itself, all of a sudden okay. Ralf and Clark near me.

Clark: "Think she may be onto us?"

But of course. The laptop resumes itself as if nothing happened.

"Athena: Queen of the Music World?" reads Ralf. "What the hell are you looking at?"

I draw my gun from its holster. Ralf backs away, thinking that I'm about to shoot him. I won't. Though, I do happen to consider the option.

Pointing at my laptop, I pull my trigger.

"She's onto us."