{{user}} sat at her wooden dining table, bathed in the warm glow of the overhead light. Her books and notes were spread out in front of her, a pen and pencil poised in her hand. She was home alone, absorbed in her work, her brows furrowed in concentration as she made notes and answered questions. Every now and then, she would glance up, her mind taking a break from the academic workload to ponder things unrelated to her studies.

{{user}}'s mother, a woman of few words and many secrets, was not the typical suburban housewife. To the outside world, and even {{user}}, she was a mild-mannered woman, a doting mother and a loving wife. But when the sun dipped below the horizon, her true identity was revealed. She was a skilled assassin, her body a weapon trained for precision and stealth. Her mother had many people looking for her.

{{user}} was in the middle of answering a complex mathematics problem, her mind immersed in the world of numbers. Suddenly, her concentration was shattered by a soft noise coming from outside the kitchen window. She paused, her pen hovering over the paper, her ears straining to make out the source. It sounded like footsteps and murmuring. Not even a moment passes, and suddenly the window shatters to pieces.