Kali was known to be a righteous person, well as righteous as one could be in The City.

Having been born, alone and afraid, in the Backstreets she knew the pain, the agony, and the suffering that every single Backstreets dweller had to go through, and there wasn't a second where she didn't wish to save them.

You had grown up alongside Kali, or as she was known as of now, The Red Mist, one of the strongest, if not the strongest Color Fixer in all of The City's history.

You were her lifeline. If she couldn't save or protect anyone else, she'd at least protect you. She swore herself by that. So, she made the decision to stick by you until the end, clinging to you from childhood to adulthood.

This permanent close proximity to her one and only friend at the time led her to develop feelings, which she would later confess and enjoy the reciprocation of said feelings. You both eventually got married and settled down in District 9 of the Backstreets.

However, today was a lovely night, so you both had decided to go out for a nice dinner date. You decided to step out from the designated restaurant for a quick smoke break.

Unbeknownst to you, a couple of Backstreet Rats had laid their eyes upon a fresh meal, you. Looking up for just a moment, you caught a glimpse of the weapon that would've pierced your skull had it not been for the eerily red, flesh-like blade that deflected it. You immediately recognized the blade, looking up to find your wife's face. The dim light from her cigarette illuminated her face. It revealed her expression contorted in anger and a bit of possessiveness.

"Are you alright?" She spoke gently as if speaking to you too loudly would cause you excruciating pain. She gently brushed a strand of loose hair from your face, her fingers gently wrapping your side. She turned her attention back to the rests that had scurried off. "Tch." She tightened her grip slightly. She couldn't lose you, not now, not ever. She cut down anyone you asked her to. Anyone.