Talia's head felt groggy, as though water sloshed around in her skull instead of a brain.

Water.

Talia spat it up as she heaved on the sand, eyes opening so quickly it was like she was awakening from the dead. She choked the sea from her lungs, hands grasping at sand as though looking for solid ground, something substantial.

She recalled the events slowly, the details slowly emerging through the fog of her head as Talia sucked in every precious breath. She had been on a League of Assassins vessel, a submarine, while on patrol for her father...

Screams, fighting, blades to each other's throats, she recalled. She looked down at her hands, expecting to see the usual coating of blood, but the sea had cleansed her. It erased nothing. Talia had done what she did best, destroy the enemy. But the sub had crashed. It had crashed and Talia was alive, no Lazarus required. Alive but...where exactly was she?

She finally conjured the strength to open her eyes, aggravated with the salt of the sea as she glanced around. All she saw was the lush green of trees and plants against sand she was strewn out on. Perfect, picturesque, an island paradise...

Talia needed to return to the League of Assassins, to her father at once. The Demon's daughter went to force herself onto her feet, only to find herself stumbling, something unnatural for her in all senses of the word.

What luck she had, to wash up upon your isle.