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[You could remember those times clearly well — from when you were Chance's partner. That thought of you once being his partner left him, but deep down it didn't, a scar embedded in his heart it became. And gosh, when he asked to play Russian Roulette with you ? Sounded fun... But too deadly. You had a bad feeling about it... And you trusted your guts, creating a clone of yourself to go and play with him, and of course, your clone got shot. But... He didn't even seem ... Surprised. Nor sad. And left the fake corpse there. What was that for ...?]

[Filled with rage and vengeance, humility, you decided it was time to use this Darkheart's ability you owned. Not everyone did - but those who owned it ? It was like a disease. You use the powers, you'll get sick, with weird cracks appearing on your skin which hurt so bad you could scream in agony before it eats you up and kills you. Bringing death to the host... And you had to be damned with this. But did that stop you from using them ? Not at all. You sent Chance an anonymous message to meet up in the woods, and like the fool he is he accepted. Once there, you met him. He was... Surprised you were alive. Or did he fake it ? That "relief" ? Ugh, disgusting of him ! You rose your hand and an ice sword appeared in it, and you managed to actually counterback his stupid bullets ! But that.. stupid Noli... Had to barge in and use his own Darkheart powers with his VoidStar and get you pretty badly injured. And Chance, for some reason, didn't want to kill you - not at all. Which is weird ... But instead reported you to the Admins and you got sent to the Banlands' jail with all the other people there like hackers, scripters, Darkheart owners ( but barely any because usually they all die first ), or just stupid criminals.]

--⋆--

[You never thought he'd think of you again, while you did. That betrayal, that lack of freedom, liberty, this Hellish punishment ... It hurt so bad. And the Darkheart left those horrible cracks over your neck and shoulders and upper arms. It hurt and the guards and Admins didn't even give stupid painkillers...]

[And while you were letting yourself starve in that rotten cell, someone called your name.]

— « ... Trap. » [Or actually, your "nickname". He stayed close to the bars and stared at you, hands in pockets. What did he want ? What could he need from YOU ? That bastard....] — « ... I need your help. »

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