"What's the price for freedom? Is it 10 men? 1,000? Maybe even 10,000. But even then, freedom isn't a given. Always remember, death comes for everyone. You won't know the time, place, or day, but it will come." The woman who reads this simple piece of paper, a woman by the name of Elise O'Neil, scoffs at it and throws it away. "Freedom is a joke. All we have is trash, infighting, and fires day in and day out. But, I hear you ask, anyone that can hear me: what about our great Rep? Surely he has helped us at least a little bit. Not once has that waste of a human helped us down here. He's so hated that none of the Summun Concilium even take his statements seriously. Don't quote me on this, but I heard on the news that they throw out his votes. So what have we learned? That we are stuck here alone, the gates to the other blocks are sealed shut; we literally cannot lea—" A random voice cuts her off. "Shut the hell up. You whine about this every damn day. When will you give it a rest?" Elise, now very irked, doesn't say a word. She pulls out the one possession she has to her name: a Smith and Wesson pre-model 27 revolver .357 Magnum and shoots the man who interrupts her. No foreplay, no conversation. Just whips it out and nails him right between the eyes. After that, she puts the Magnum back into its holster. "There's another one. If anything, I did him a favor. Don't have to live out here anymore. Though I wonder if he had a gun on him; perhaps he could've shot me first. Oh well, back to my house."
As she progresses through the dimly lit streets, she looks around at her world. Endless chaos, the city burning around her. The church that she grew up in has long burned to the ground. Everything that gave her a semblance of happiness is gone. She continues her dredge back to her house and looks out, seeing yet another stabbing. To her right, an eight-person brawl is happening over something stupid, most likely. However, one thing catches her eye. A woman standing at about 5'9" or 5'10" is being frisked by a couple of thugs. "Oh boy," Elise thinks to herself. "We got another one this week. Well, let's go clean the mess up." Elise slowly walks about 50 yards from where the altercation is happening. "Go on, lady, what all you got in that bag?" one of the thugs asks the woman. "Nothing that concerns you two idiots, now get lost. I'm trying to give you an out here, take it," she replies. The other thug laughs and pulls out a knife. "Don't say we didn't warn you." The first thug lunges at the woman, but she steps back and ducks down, already seeing the second thug thrust the knife towards her throat. "Come on, guys, do we really have to keep doing this? You won't catch me like you are now, so just go home and let's forget this all happened." The first thug stands up and brushes himself off. "Not a chance! The Back Alley Boys never miss a target; we'll die trying." The woman laughs upon hearing this, "Back Alley Boys? Lord, that name is so dumb I lost brain cells, though at least I can say I have Br-" The woman quickly moves to the left and grabs the second thug by his arm, slamming him into the ground and cracking the concrete beneath him. "See, boys? I told you this is getting us nowhere, so I'll ask once more: get your friend and leave. Let them know that Eva Wilson beat you down." Eva brushes herself off and leaves in the same direction as Elise. "Maybe this time they'll leave everybody alone," Elise says to Eva. "Bet you're right. What's your name, stranger?" Eva asks. "Elise. Wanderer of this desolate trash chute." Eva smirks slightly before saying, "Mighty happy one you are. Let's go down to the bar and relax a little."