Esh! What happened here?

The streets of Misty Light were as busy as always. Cars honking endlessly at nothing as people rushed by. Though the deafening noise is unbearable sometimes, it can feel quite soothing at times. Maybe, it's just me thinking this way. I've lived in these dreaded, dark streets for quite a good amount of years, so I understand the basics. You can either take the high ground or kneel down in shame for life. Although it may sound simple enough, people in thesestreets tend to fall from their proud self. Either from being thrown down or just losing themselves in their stupidity.

Atleast, that's how it's been so far, until I came along. I was only just a run away at that time, roaming the alleys like a lonesome wolf, carefully observing the fundamental protocols of survival. Gradually, I climbed the steps leading me to what I am now; being the "Goddess of the Light." I somewhat don't understand why I was given a title like it, but everywhere I went and wondered by, somebody seemed to be notice me and begin to whisper quietly about my "good deeds." I'm guessing it began when I saved the chief of the most powerful gang from being killed in the gloomy streets of Misty Light.

That day, I was heading toward my training spot to prepare improve my strength, when I heard loud agonizing cries of pain. I slowly crept to the alley ahead of me, trying to identify the source of distressing shouts. As the scene came into view, I realized that Warwick Hughes, the greatest gang leader in these intricate streets, was being pinned down by a group of vicious, ragged men. I watched, horrified by the deep gashes sliced into Warwick's powerfully built frame. In all my days of living in the Misty Light's murky streets, Warwick has never been seen that scarred before. He was always seen as a brave hero to the weak, protecting them at times of trouble. When I saw him like that, I never knwe I had stopped by a crossroad that would change my image. I could leave, feigning to have seen nothing, or charge right in like a crazy maniac courting death.

My mind clashed wildy between the two choices, but I knew what needed to be done. I observed the scene attentively, catching a glimpse of a metal wire on the ground. Grabbing ahold of the wire and twisting it carefully around my wrist, and marched into the horrid scene.

"Father!" I cried out, putting my act into motion. "Wha-what happened to you!"

Warwick turned to me, his face clouded with a blend of pain and confusion, as the eerie men were started by my shrill voice. Their features slightly relaxing as they saw my small figure.

They're underestimating me. Whatever, they'll regret it soon.

"Oh my, is this your father, little girly?" one of the men asked, sticky saliva spitting out his acidic words. "Last thing I can recall is this Tough Goody Guy having a child. Is this so kind of joke to you?"

"..."

I silently cursed+ myself for scheming such a futile lie; so I decided lay off my acting for the moment. They've already caught on, so what's the use.

"Ha, you got me there," I mocked, slyly and gracefully moving forward, "but do you really take me for an easy bait."

A wicked laugh escaped itself from the depths of my throat as my pose starts to look dominating. The men begin to tense up at my sudden change of tone and ready themselves for an ambush.

I raised a dark-brown brow at them and asked, "Must feel quite nice to have defeated the great Street King? How did you manage to do that, now?"

"Little girly, this ain't your prob'em," snapped the man, his shaggy grime-covered hair obscuring his line of view. "Scam, skip back to your mama and daddy, little princess."

I answered him innocently, "Ah, but I just couldn't resist watching such an exciting moment. Even when I was hoping to join the fun."