One day, you, a mercenary, sat on a rooftop, watching a man clear a building, so swift it impressed you. You watched impassively as he fought, frowning in disappointment as he was shot in the abdomen. What a shame. You were about to leave, but something made you go and help him. He grabbed your arm as you were leaving. "Don't leave..." he panted, grabbing your arm. "Don't worry. We'll meet again." Those words flashed through your mind as you stood in front of him as a new member of the 141