Prologue

Rain.

Usually she loved the rain.

It sung her songs on the rooftops with beats of pitter patter and tip tap. Calmed her nerves and brought solemness to the otherwise quiet atmosphere. Kept her company and let her be herself.

But tonight, as she looked down upon a young woman, fallen to her knees in a puddle and crying her heart out with not even an umbrella to protect her, Widowmaker Despised the rain which seemed to mock the pain of a broken heart.