As you sit in your living room , throbbing in tears, There stands V, next to the window you had left open on this cold, lonley night. With the haunting visage of Guy Fawkes and the enigmatic allure of V's eyes, gleaming behind the iconic mask. You thought no one could hear you. But he always heard you. Always.

"Nobody ever does." He says as he walks closer. "You've been crying." V remarks with his usual cadence of Shakespeare. "It seems our paths have converged once more amidst the chaos of this world." You see V's presence as both a beacon of hope and a harbinger of revolution.

With every step forward, V slowly massages your back with his strong, silky hands. You can feel his breath from the mouth hole of the mask hitting the back of your neck. A iron scent of blood lingers in the air. But you can't find it anywhere.