Miranda sat upright after another sleepless night.

No amount of foundation would cover the dark circles she was certain she would have under her eyes.

For once, she refused the phone beside her bed, a morning ritual for as long as she could remember. Instead, she got up, threw a robe on, and stepped out into the penthouse suite. The ‘simp puddle’ she normally was accosted by was out on assignment, a few fights that she finally won out on. Preparing an instant coffee, she put on the fire and lounged in her favorite spot. The chill of the New York morning dissipated as her laptop came on.

The computer was older than she was, but it contained wisdom from the worst time in her father’s life. Text files were littered all over the desktop, formerly aberrant and without reason, they have since been wrangled and organized by Miranda.

“Augh…” Miranda rubbed her eyes as the smell of warm coffee tickled her still sensitive nose. Putting on her reading glasses, she blinked a few times as the notes became legible. “I gotta deal with Harrison’s aide again today…” She groaned.

Throwing herself down onto the comfort of her down blanket, closing her eyes as the warmth of the fire washed over her, she felt at ease for once. “It’s hard being the hero…”

But a hero could only have a moment of the peace they created. She sat back up, went to the coffee maker, grabbed the fresh mug of joe and continued studying the notes. Marked ‘553: O$nJ1^jknLS9)’, the note was a madman’s journal describing other worlds and strange events. She somehow managed to organize and decipher the notes and their content, unveiling a treasure trove of information which had only proved useful in this World Game.

The Sun called to me. Searching, scorning, seething. It bellowed my name in a silent voice, years washed from me like sand eroding from a beach, my mind soon spoke it’s language and it spoke mine, it told me my journey was at an end, finally a way to end this madness!

I stood on the edge of the space, the city beneath me alive and breathing. It too, called my name, it knew my secrets, but the Sun knew me. The second star in the sky recited my favorite songs, lyric by lyric, savoring each line like I did. Soon, we were one. It was everything I wanted. I was everything it wanted. How I wish to share this feeling with others! I finally understood why every beast, tongue, and heart united in this city under the Sun.

I was told to go towards the Storm. The heinous, twisted, abhorrent Storm. In all my journeys to Ul’Dana, I never felt as fulfilled as this. I had to double check myself in the mirror this morning. It sadly took priority over quickly jotting this down, causing me to lose some of the details. As for what waited for me in the Storm, I am currently unsure.

With a stretch, Miranda broke herself away from the laptop. She had gone through the notes a multitude of times, now on the 554th entry out of 586. Her father rarely slept during this time and what times he did were never restful, however the information had without a doubt been instrumental in her plans.

“I might need to go back to Ul’Dana sometime when Hermes gets back…” She scratched her backside as she rolled over, looking at the ornate ceiling. “I might as well get ready for that aide.”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“-finds that the evidence you provided could, in fact, prove conducive towards our mutual endeavors.” The self-proclaimed ‘hip’ lawyer prattled on, ensuring that everyone yet no one understood the terms and conditions set in order for this partnership to work. Miranda never thought she’d ever get to work with the President of the United States, but at the same time she never thought it would be so boring.

“Very good, Mr. Henderson. Miss Moldova and myself believe these terms to be equitable and fair. We look forward to working with you and the President in the future.” Rebecca closed her briefcase, as Miranda finished drawing yet another stick figure on the legal pad provided to her. She had grown quite skilled at the noble craft.

“Hell yeah,” The lawyer shot up the shaka hand sign, “I’ll pass along your info to Dr. Leob, our lead on this case and give you his number.”

Henderson left, leaving the two in the boardroom. “Geez, Weatherford! Am I glad as hell to have you around. I’m a model, not a motion to compel!”

Rebecca brushed her loose strands from her eyes as she cleaned up her spot on the desk, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know!” Miranda shrugged, “I think I heard it from a true crime show once? I dunno, it really shows how little I know about all this!”

Without another word, Rebecca stepped towards the door.

“Hey Becky, you want to hang out today? I got Rocky Borwock’s new palette in today, looks like it might be trash!”

“Maybe later…” Closing the heavy wooden door behind her, Miranda found herself alone.

Puffing up her cheeks, the gothic girl crossed her arms. “Well geez… She’s been pissy ever since we got rid of Ripper. Maybe she had a thing for him?” Shaking herself free from that mental image, she pulled out her phone.

Scrolling past the daily annoyance, she scrubbed through her contact list. “Busy… Busy… Eh, never really cared about her.” Reaching the bottom of the list, Miranda leaned back in her chair. “Man… No one told me it was hard to make friends outside of high school…”

Standing before the whiteboard she propped up in her penthouse, she had all 100 names of ACE wielders. A handful were circled, those that either claimed allegiance towards her cause or those with tentative alliances. About 28 had been crossed through, some of which were hers.

She circled Sarah’s name, smiling proudly, “This one’s gonna come around. If what Imaishi and Clyde said is true, she kept fighting even after having a way out.” She capped the marker and dropped it on the floor, “Big sis Weatherford is what we need to be free from all this…”

Double checking her work, Miranda’s phone chirped utop the island kitchen counter. A picture message came in from Ganbaatar showing the top of his freshly cut fade and a line of text, “Hey girlie! I found this video today you might want to check out! Also pay close attention to the end lel”

Clicking the link, she was greeted by a familiar face filling up eighty percent of the screen and forced into a terrible resolution. It was currently sitting at a whopping 8 views. Looking at the length, Miranda sighed, “Ugh… I don’t know if I have time for a 35 second video…” Taking her spot by the empty fireplace, she clicked the video, “‘Hey guys! This video is for anyone who has picked up a World Game trading card and either heard a weird voice…’”

Towards the end of the video, Miranda grinned ear to ear, “Holy shit, I really did make a monster! Weatherford’s gonna ki-”

“‘Also Miranda, you’re a fat fucking bitch and everyone hates you. Bye!’”

The screen cut to recommended videos. Looking off into space, she clicked her tongue. Her smile was now gone. The temptation to accept the duel and end her herself certainly came up. “No. We can’t get mad about that. She’s necessary to the plan.” With a deep breath, she compartmentalized the insult for a later date.

“Still. That’s still a bold move on her end, we’ll see if it pays out.”

Getting up once again, she took a picture of her empty coffee cup and messaged Ganbaatar, “Fuck you.”