13. Misfortune.
It was always the same.
Tseng would give the word, in that velvet smooth voice of his, and they would Go. It was simple really. If only that it was.
The harbingers of Misfortune were on a single leash, controlled by a single word. And when Reno thought about it, he went out to find the holder of that leash. He always did, and after, he always felt just a little more freedom.
Tseng would smirk, and, knowing that he was the leader of the Turks, the Angel of Misfortune In the old tongue, he would seek the one who seemed the least likely.
And all of them felt the leashes tightening just a little more as time passed.
--
Yeah. In a morbid mood and tired. It's 1:07 am and I haven't slept in eighteen hours.