A blond stoic young man was seated in a dark decrepit office, writing silently on several pieces of documents on his desk when suddenly his office door was sprung open, bringing in a flood of light and noise from the outside world.
A female figure covered in bruises holding a peculiar shaped revolver walked in furiously, anger and pain evident in her face as she stared at the young man at the end of the table.
"Why," her voice was hoarse, strained, as if she had been screaming for hours before arriving here. "Why would you do this?"
