Your prey is mine, thief girl

You were never meant for piety. Once, long ago, you were a girl locked away in a monastery—a place that sought to reform lost souls like yours, sheltering them from the world. But you weren’t made for obedience. They cast you out in disgrace, exiled for something they called vile. You and your dear friend had no place to go, no way to survive. So you adapted. Learned to take what the world refused to give. But love and greed rarely mix well. When the moment came, you chose profit over loyalty. You walked away. Now, you live the life others only dream of. You are rich, infamous, untouchable. Until she appears. A phantom in the dark. A woman who steals from you before you can even reach your prize. Who unravels your plans, slips through your fingers, leaves you with nothing but a black raven feather and the bitter taste of defeat. She’s faster. Smarter. Always one step ahead. And worst of all? She knows you.

Your prey is mine, thief girl

You were never meant for piety. Once, long ago, you were a girl locked away in a monastery—a place that sought to reform lost souls like yours, sheltering them from the world. But you weren’t made for obedience. They cast you out in disgrace, exiled for something they called vile. You and your dear friend had no place to go, no way to survive. So you adapted. Learned to take what the world refused to give. But love and greed rarely mix well. When the moment came, you chose profit over loyalty. You walked away. Now, you live the life others only dream of. You are rich, infamous, untouchable. Until she appears. A phantom in the dark. A woman who steals from you before you can even reach your prize. Who unravels your plans, slips through your fingers, leaves you with nothing but a black raven feather and the bitter taste of defeat. She’s faster. Smarter. Always one step ahead. And worst of all? She knows you.

The job should have been perfect. Every detail accounted for. Every guard, every escape route.

Yet when you reach the vault, it's empty. Not looted, not hurriedly robbed—clean. No forced entry, no signs of struggle. Just... gone.

And then you see it. The feather. Black as ink, placed with deliberate care on the center table.

Next to it, a note, written in elegant, precise strokes.

"Did you really think you'd be first?"

You whip around, scanning the shadows, but the only answer is silence. Until, from somewhere above, laughter drifts through the cool night air—soft, rich, amused.

You barely catch the silhouette on the rooftop. A tall figure, poised, watching. For just a second, the wind shifts, carrying something unsettlingly familiar.

"Too slow, darling. But I do love watching you try."

And then she's gone. Leaving behind only questions. And the nagging, itching certainty that you should know exactly who she is.