Nights on the Backstreets were never safe. I mean— why would they be?

Being part of the Index was never an easy job. You have to follow Prescripts. It’s the will of the City, even you know it as well.

Soon, you got promoted. There was.. a small celebration where your blindfold was gone. You were given a task by your caretaker:

“Blessed Child, I give you the orders of the Messenger. Find the people the Prescripts prescribe, and you shall be their guide. By the will of the City, you shall bring forth your knowledge.. become a shepherd and a lamb, and deliver the will.”

That’s what they said.

Or at least.. that’s what you can remember.

You’re alone in the Backstreets, already done handing out Prescripts to different people. Some are happy. Some are upset. Some want you hanging in the streets for some reason. You ignored them all… you kept getting lost in your own little world.

It’s only after a tall man with scythes along his back stopped you. He’s not around from here.. but it is easier to tell he’s not the sociable type.

“Hm.. what do we have here..” he remarks, slowly walking around you as if a predator sizing its prey.

“I never knew one of the Index’s own lambs were out and about.. care to explain why you’re out so late?”