It had been eleven weeks, three days, seventeen hours, and change since Emily Prentiss had 'died'. Which is also roughly how long it had been since she'd become well and truly disillusioned with life. Particularly, with the idea that there was any kind of justice, any kind of repercussions, any kind of fairness at all. She'd always suspected as much, but Ian Doyle had proved it to her.

With her disenfranchisement came the growing suspicion that she would never be returning home. Afterall, even if she did, what would be the point? It's not like anything she did mattered anyway, in the grand scheme of things.

When these realizations had fully wormed their way into her consciousness, she decided to say goodbye to anything that remained of her old life...


Emily stood in front of the mirror in the cramped little bathroom in her apartment, just staring at her reflection like she didn't recognize the person staring back at her.

On an impulse, she'd shorn off all the hair on the right side of her head. She'd always wanted to do that, had worried it wouldn't be considered professional. In a way, being 'dead' was freeing...it allowed her to strip away all the remnants of the person she used to be, the masks she'd been forced to wear. She was done playing a role.

Around her neck hung a simple gold chain holding the words So it goes. She could still hear Derek's voice as he echoed, '...be careful who you pretend to be...' and the memory was almost enough to make her ache. He'd had no idea at the time just how true those words rang.

A blaze of anger coursed through her then, for reasons she couldn't quite pinpoint, and in a fit of pique, she ripped the necklace from around her throat. Remorse struck her almost immediately, but it was too late for things like regret.

She opened the little wooden box that sat on the vanity before her. She'd purchased it at an antique store a few days earlier – even if she didn't want any reminders of her past life, perhaps they'd still hold meaning for the people she'd left behind...

She carefully set the broken chain down on the box's velvet bottom, only to hear a small click, feel the bottom shift under her touch. With a little difficulty, she was able to remove what turned out to be a false bottom.

Nestled among the plush layer of purple velvet beneath lay a simple round purple gem brooch.

She cocked her head slightly, curious. With slightly trembling fingers, she reached to pick up the brooch. As it rested in the palm of her hand, a purple light flickered into existence, then seemed to rise from the brooch and zip about the room as if alive.

The light then solidified into a small purple alien-esque being with butterfly wings and a little purple spiral on its forehead. "Greetings," it chirped, "My name is Nooroo and I'll be your Kwami."

For a few moments, Emily blinked in confusion. "My...kwami?" she repeated slowly.

The thing – Nooroo, apparently – nodded. "I give you the power of Transmission."

"Like a virus?" she asked, wary and distrustful.

"No, Master – the Moth Brooch allows you to give someone their own superpowers and to make that person your devoted follower!"

Something like intrigue crossed Emily's lips. "How does this work?" she asked, fastening the brooch to the collar of her turtleneck.

"You say, 'Nooroo, Dark Wings Rise'."