Daljia
Dust and smoke billowed everywhere as the sounds of explosions and screams filled the air. I pull my backpack tighter against me and run up the bullet-doused streets. The crumbling buildings and rubble provide an obstacle course, making my movements random. I am not the natural enemy for either side, but in panicked war, nobody pays attention to who you are. I heard nearby shouts and pounding footsteps from around the corner and I let my knives slide out of the holes of my home-made gloves and into my hands. The worn ivory handles comfortably fit in my small, nimble hands as I run silently as possible.
The war raging behind me quickly fades since I am running faster than ever before. Anyone would try to grow wings and flee if you are a convicted spy working for the Tsox crew and sentenced to death by feral cats in one day. I was feared by the Zoqqq crew, hated by the Slayer crew, and worshiped by the Tsox and Cannon alliance.
And thus was the life of Daljia Araceli Xiao, hired spy and information seller.