Morning comes in screams in our capital I wake and gaze out of my bedroom window it never just rains it pours in Storm city central tel bots flicker their discontent fighting the winds it's funny how much those machines complain most think them just glorified street cleaners it's a bitter reminder of the civil unrest that now tars our land into the dark realms
It's time to go to the war office so I shower and shave then put my uniform on just then comes a proximity alert someone is coming to my door with gun in hand I creep down the stairs this could get messy especially just after dressing
Slowly I open my apartment door but there is no one to be seen then I look down by the stairs on the ground a dead red rose lays there I grab some gloves and then pick it up on the burnt stem is the message, Storm In A TeaCup I drop the rose in utter shock and some pity as it's rebellion time in this our storm city