Sorry, long time no update! I hope to have the next chapter out sooner. This one is long and tedious, but I promise the next one will be filled with interaction! Thanks for the continued support!

Btw. The Evey repeated 5 times is a graphic novel reference. Just thought I'd throw that info in, lest the phrase seem a bit odd.

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"Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici."

"By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe."

"Personal motto? Isn't that about trying to cheat the devil?" It was on this line that Evey turned about to face her mentor to find her doorway empty. How could that be? Evey thought. Turning back to the half clouded mirror, V's reflection appeared as vigilant as ever. The situation made no sense at all. But then again, dreams didn't have to make sense.

"Uhn." Evey groaned as she rolled about as her slumber was interrupted by the incessant beeping of her alarm clock. Clumsily and quickly did she reach her hand out towards the nightstand at the right of the bed and slam her open palm upon the clock. The sun doesn't shine in the Shadow Gallery, and without these irksome knick knacks Evey couldn't hope to wake up on time. Turning onto her back Evey stared sleepily at the canopy of V's bed.

For the longest time Evey couldn't bring herself to even visit the Shadow Gallery let alone reside in it. The thoughts of V which flooded her mind upon merely entering his domain were too much for her to bear. That was until roughly one year ago, when she had convinced herself that she had come to terms with his death. Her hand returned from atop the alarm clock as it graced through her deep mahogany tresses, its twin clutching at a fold in the burgundy sheets which adorned V's bed. Now here she was, laying in his bed, waking from dreams wherein he still existed. Had she really come to terms with anything? Or had she returned for fear of losing touch with him?

Evey slowly turned onto her side, shutting her eyes momentarily as she buried her face in her soft peach pillow and inhaled deeply. Clean sheets. V's scent had long left his possessions, but Evey clung to the hope that even the most minute hint of his presence lingered on. After a few moments of lingering about V's bed, Evey eventually rose. She needed to prepare for the evening. First things first, she needed to retrieve her documents.

She stood for a moment, stretching. Being clothed in her pajamas, which consisted of a simple gray camisole and baggy cotton pants, she was ill prepared to head out the door immediately. She slipped on a pair of bunny slippers and drew about her a cotton robe as she headed towards her old room. Although she slept and dreamt in V's room, she had never wished to displace any of his belongings. All of her clothing and personal articles were safely tucked away in her room, in a closet nearly completely hidden by the towers of books which decorated the walls besides it. The door of this closet had actually been painted with the image of the spines of books, perhaps V did this out of boredom. Whatever the reason, Evey had always found it rather amusing.

She quickly threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater before grabbing her bag and heading out. Her hair was thrown into a messy bun and she made haste on her trip to recover her documents. Within that folder contained the information, whereabouts, and meeting information of several prominent Norsefire party members. There were several reasons why such documents could not be found in her possession, the most prominent of which being the possible grounds of her exposure.

When she opened her cabinet to find the documents intact, Evey breathed a sigh of relief. Despite the fact that a flower shop would be the least likely target of theft, she still had a bit of worry. Matters such as the ones she dealt in were not to be handled lightly carefully tucked the contents of the folder inside of her bag as she locked up her shop again and headed off.

Evey had planned to spend the rest of the day at home, going over the documents carefully and assessing the situation. Upon her return she quickly headed to the kitchen to lay the documents before herself.

The floor plans of the pub where they were planning to meet made one thing obvious to her. The only route in which she could hope to avoid detection would be down the fire escape and into one of the back stairwells. After reaching thus far, descending the stairs and entering the premises would be a cakewalk.

The stairs should land her on the right side of the room where the men would assemble. The rough estimate of men in attendance was about sixteen. This is where her mission got tricky. Her three main targets were ex-Fingermen. Some of Creedy's top black baggers. They had thus far eluded capture by police officials and continued to propagate heinous crimes even after the destruction of their former party leaders. They were infact, less of a formal party and more a band of thugs. The Norsefire party held an iron grip over the northern portion of England by means of fear and intimidation. That, coupled with their supporters quickly migrating and rallying to their cause in the north kept the thugs in power.

Evey spent several hours inspecting the floor plans of the building as well as the profiles of her three main targets. Archer, Knox, and Peter. All of them appeared formidable and intimidating just through stature alone. Evey knew she would need to catch them off guard.

Evey turned her head to glance over at the grandfather clock with stood at the end of the main hall, opposite the kitchen.

"Its about time I get going now, isn't it?" She sighed with a light smile as she tucked her documents back into their respective folder before abandoning them on the kitchen table and heading towards V's vanity room. Evey had long since had a suit tailored to her size and needs, and easily slipped into her own attire. She then took a seat in his chair, and pulling her hair up she carefully pinned it up before reaching for the wig nearby. Attire and wig set in place, she finally reached out for the mask. Gracefully and tenderly she brought it up to her face, and fastened it about the back.

Every time she participated in this routine, she couldn't help but think- this is what V felt. Her heart beating fast, she turned about in the chair, to reach down and calmly dust her boot. Rising to her feet, she reached over to grab the heavy knife laden belt and fastened it about her waist. Next came the coat, and the matching hat. Then she quickly reached down into a drawer in V's vanity counter, and recovered a small device. It appeared to be a small square attached to a strip. This contraption was fit about her neck, just under her collar.

"Voila." She posed before the mirror. However, the "voila" which graced her lips was not hers. No. It was V's. It was a simple gadget by today's standards, but not one in high demand. She found it among V's articles when she had inspected his drawers. When she had found it, the configuration and pitch of the item had been honed to Creedy's voice. V had used this item on her, when he had her within his false prison. Now she was using it against the Norsefire rebels. Of course, she tinkered with the device until it spouted the proper voice.

After that, she was off. It didn't take her long to reach the vicinity of her destination. Quickly and stealthily she took the back alley route behind the building. She pulled herself atop a dumpster and jumped from there to the half lowered and rusted ladder of the fire escape. Here she began her ascent.

A few rooftops away, there was another figure clad in dark heading towards her target. Dressed in nearly identical attire, besides for having a larger stature. Behind the fixed grin of the mask, the man's true face was frozen with a grim expression. Numerous thoughts clouded his mind as he graced his way across the rooftops. His method of travel was, of course, more daring. Despite her training, Evey could not compete against V's supernatural abilities. He almost had to thank his creators. For if he were still a normal man, a man unaffected by their toxins and the hatred which they bred within them, he could never have brought about the revolution. However, at this moment, his thoughts dwelt on Evey.

Evey, Evey, Evey, Evey, Evey.

For what reason did she possess such detailed information on the Norsefire rebels and their scheduled assembly? A flurry of thoughts swelled in his head. The scenario which he dreaded most of all was to think that Evey, his apprentice, had fallen within their ranks. Although V could see no logical explanation for this, such a thought could not be put from his mind. Perhaps she would exact revenge upon the remnants of the party, in his memory? No, no. Evey couldn't possibly do such a thing. There were going to be at least ten men at tonight's gathering. Maybe she knew one of the men? No, that wasn't right either. If she was a.. friend of any of the men, she wouldn't require such intelligence on the party.

Thoughts aside, V sensed he was nearing on his destination. Alright. Around the back, ascend the fire escape and into the back stairwell. According to the plans he had read, that was the only logical route of entry. The obvious entrances, such as the front and back doors would no doubt be guarded. He didn't want to draw any attention to himself. He didn't plan to stage "V's return."In fact, outside of the Norsefire party, nobody knew about "V's" escapades. Evey kept her work relatively quiet. Only the Norsefire need believe that he still exacted vengeance in the name of Justice.

He was swift in his motions, and reached the fire escape stealthily and unnoticed. Little did he know that another figure, dawning his Fawksian mask, was near the bottom of the stairwell, hidden in the shadows. She drew close to the door with seperated herself from the pub in which her targets were sure to enter soon. Peeking through the dirty peephole, she could vaguely make out the figures of a few men pacing about the room, and the bartender wiping up his counter. Two men sat at the counter conversing, the further of the two she could not identify- but the closest she assumed to be Knox, judging by his profile.

V descended down the stairs slowly. Despite the fact that this was obviously the safest route, it didn't necessarily mean it would be unattended. He had decided to continue slowly, as to not accidentally rouse any attention.

He paused. He heard the shuffling noise of silent steps from the base of the winding stairwell. A gloved palm raised gently to the hilt of his knives. Silently and cautiously he made his way towards the final turn of the stairs.

"Damnit." V whispered.

Had he gone mad? Did he really not realize he had muttered beneath his breath? No. He hadn't said a word. That whispered curse sparked his curiousity. He leant slightly over the side of the railing, peering down through the eyes of his mask onto the figure below.

Dear God. He was going insane, wasn't he? The eyes beneath the mask narrowed as he glared down upon his doppleganger who was standing still before the door. Surely, he was mistaken. So he drew his head back again, and breathed in before taking another momentary gander down at himself. This time he withdrew his head rapidly, for the figure below him began to stirr.

Evey turned about quickly, cape swishing behind her form. She tilted her head upwards sharply, revealing beneath the hat that ivory mask, intently staring where V once peeked over the railing. Had somebody spotted her? Had somebody unknowingly strayed down the stairs? Or worse- had she been followed?

One hand trailed up the length of her hip and to one of her knives. She felt the adrenaline pumping through her veins. Hopefully it was no more than one man. She had not the reflexes of V.

One step, then a second.

V heard the footsteps of the figure ascending the staircase. What sort of maniacal apparition was this? Was he truly mad or was this real? He was careless in his movements and had been detected. The true identity of his pursuer was yet unknown to him. For from the distance and angle at which he spied upon her, he had not made out the true size and stature of what was undoubtably a smaller figure.

Fifth step, then a sixth.

Time was running short. By this time, V had come to the realization that he was not hallucinating. Evey rounded the corner, only to find that she was alone. Must've been a rat. She shrugged. Little did she know, that just about the next flight of stairs, V was pinned against the wall in utter silence. The pieces had come together. It was Evey. Oh Evey.