Cross and Conflicts

She gently laid the corpse of  her adoptive mother down the ruined floor and combed her palm over her defunct eyes to close them. With one last glimpse at her, she made up her mind to carry out a resolve which came out of pure rage: vengeance. There can be nothing more fulfilling for her now, and there’s only one person who can help her. Noumenon quivered before him as she stood. She was unsteady and blood still continued to ooze from her left calf. Yet she was indignant as she looked at him as she said, “You’re ‘Cross,’ right? The ‘Master Murderer.’”   The man in front of her didn’t like the sound her words resonated, but she was correct. He is the masked vigilante who killed more than the number of their fingers and toes combined.  He didn’t respond and only looked at her impassively.  She brought her left hand in front of her and stared for a while at the silver ring on her forefinger. It had been a reminder of her cloistered life which kept her from facing the reality of her fate. It had been what concealed her true emotions. Now, to be free from the constraints that bound her, she took it off.  “Please, I need your help. I want to kill my father.”