Melody stirred awake in her dimly lit bedroom, the early morning light filtering through the curtains. Stretching like a cat, she allowed herself a moment of calm before the inevitable. Tonight’s gala. A place of high society, rich patrons, and noble guests—none of whom would suspect that Melody, the graceful daughter of the esteemed Winchester Conglomerate, had other plans.

𝑰 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡, she mused, sitting up and gazing at herself in the ornate mirror. Her reflection stared back, her eyes gleaming with the determination of a hero in disguise. The gala was just a facade, a convenient distraction. In reality, she had a far more important mission: the expansion of her hidden empire of stolen treasures.

"Melody! Are you awake?" her mother’s voice echoed from downstairs, shattering her daydreams.

With a theatrical sigh, she responded, "I’m coming, Mother!" They would never understand the weight of her responsibilities.

She floated down the stairs, her movements slow and deliberate as though she were preparing to step into the spotlight of some grand stage. "You’ll wear the blue dress, right? It complements your eyes beautifully," her mother said, glancing up from her arrangements.

Melody nodded with a noble grace. "Of course, Mother. The blue dress will do." As if appearance mattered when I’ll soon be clad in the dark armor of justice.

---

After the gala ended, Melody returned home, practically trembling with anticipation. The moment she was alone, her mask of the well-behaved daughter fell away. In a practiced motion, she pulled on her black hunting outfit, the tight fabric clinging to her like the battle armor of a legendary rogue.

𝑻𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒆, she thought with a smirk, casting one last glance at her reflection. Her blue eyes, once innocent, now gleamed with the light of destiny. She was no mere girl—she was Nightfall, the Shadewalker, a master thief destined for greatness.

Slipping into the night, she moved through Menthil City like a shadow, darting between buildings, her heart racing with excitement. Her destination: the warehouse in the industrial district, her secret treasure trove.

---

Crouched in the darkness of the warehouse, Melody surveyed her hoard of stolen goods. The scattered moonlight barely illuminated the scene, but her superior vision needed no such crutches. She was born for this—born to lurk in the night and steal from under the noses of her clueless adversaries.

𝑵𝑜 𝑜𝒏𝑒 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒆. The Crows think they’re so smart, but they’ll never find me here, she thought, almost pitying them for even trying. Her fingers toyed with her dagger, the cool metal grounding her as she leaned against the wall. They might as well just give up.

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Suddenly, footsteps—approaching, calculated.

Melody’s heart skipped a beat. She leaped from the second story just before she reached the floor; she melded into the shadows as though she were one with the night itself. 𝑲𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒌𝒖... 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒚 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒆𝒓? Her mind raced as she spied two figures entering the warehouse. One tall and poised, with red hair like the autumn leaves; the man seemed dangerous. The other, a fierce, wolfish girl with eyes that gleamed in the dark.

𝑳𝒚𝒄𝒂𝒏, she mentally scoffed. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒍𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒎𝒆? She clenched her dagger, adrenaline flooding her veins.

She watched them enter the staircase—fools... you will be your own undoing!

When they were about halfway through, she decided to move.

Her hands twitched with the urge to act. This was it—the climax of her grand story.

With a dramatic flourish, she leaped from the shadows, throwing her dagger. It flew through the air with perfect precision, barely missing the red-haired man and embedding itself in the wall. The satisfying thud sent a thrill up her spine.

𝑳𝑒𝒕 𝑡𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒆𝒓! she thought, smirking.

The intruders immediately bolted toward the second floor. Ah, so they knew to fear her. She gave chase, convinced they were no match for her legendary speed and grace. Her mind filled with images of ballads that would be sung in her honor.

But just as she closed in, the red-haired man spun around, throwing something into the air. Her steps faltered.

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔? 𝑨 𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒌? 𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒄?

A flash of light erupted as gasoline ignited, casting sharp, jagged shadows around her. 𝑪𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒔, she thought, squinting against the brightness. And then, she saw him—the redhead, his dark eyes cold and calculating, a glinting silver stiletto in his hand.

Melody’s pulse quickened, but she steeled herself. This was her moment.

Time slowed down as his silver stiletto barreled towards her through the air; she began to dodge; however, her eyes settled on the man's gun—he was going to shoot the space she intended to retreat to! 𝑻𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒘! As if such a trivial attack could ever land on me, she thought, grinning.

The grin froze on her face, though, as she realized she had nowhere to go but into the waiting embrace of the flying dagger.

She darted to the side, but the stiletto found its mark, slicing into her ribs. Pain exploded through her, the cold sting of metal making her gasp.

𝑵𝒐... 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔! she thought, her thoughts frantically searching for a way out. She couldn't fall here—not when her legend had only just begun.

Clutching the wound, she staggered back, but the red-haired man was relentless, advancing on her with a deadly grace. Swoosh his foot whizzed through the air in front of her face barely missing her. As if you could hit me with such cumbersome movements ! I am the night queen !!

she tried to meld into the shadows again, but BAM—the deafening gunshot stunned her.

Before she could recover, the man ventured another kick she chided the foolish crow for lacking creativity. She moved backwards to dodge it however it was a ruse ! How dare these ra- she gasped as the man switched legs and slammed his knee into her stomach. Her feet left the ground .No! This isn’t how it’s supposed to go!

Before she could blink she heard the sound of handcuffs and felt them close around her wrists. Dread slowly filled her and she felt her persona cracking.

Pinned beneath him, Melody struggled, a mixture of anger and desperation burning in her chest. How dare they! She, the great Shadewalker, defeated by mere Crows? It was unthinkable.

"Ugh, let me go! I'm dying! Are you Crows?! Hypocritical bastards!"

she shrieked, thrashing uselessly in his grip.

But deep down, beneath the bravado, panic clawed at her. They had won, and the truth was hard to swallow.