Work Text:
"There's no lady Mondegreen, listen to the freaking lyrics"
My name is not Lady Mondegreen. Technically, I'm not old enough to even have an adult name, but it's not the sort of information I want to be public knowledge. Those who know me in real life call me Answers Seeker. But for the journal, I'm Lady Mondegreen. Nobody. Or a random character who got slain despite never even being in the story.
Ten years ago, I was killed in a crossfire. After that, everything went downhill.
I shouldn't have gone to the dark alley in the middle of the night. No matter how ideal of a city you live in, it's still a sure way to get mugged or kidnapped. But probably not to be killed with lightning by the literal guard dog of the government. I was revived by the girl whose name I never found out, a warlock worshiping sunlight. That night, I swore to uncover my murderers. All of them, from a guard commending his pet attack in the middle of the city, to the leader of the country, whose military does these things.
A lot has happened since then. I found out about mutants in the city underbelly and saw how they revived a freaking god because they didn't know who they could pray to. I heard all the juicy details of how the researchers found a container signed "Here is not a place of honor" and how they managed to lose it (resistance didn't get it either, this box of apocalypse is literally who knows where now and can detonate any moment). I was peeking through the windows with the spyglass during the negotiation and saw the peace breaking first-hand. But my mission is not fulfilled yet. I'm not going to execute any vengeance, it's not for me to do. I'm just going to let the public know and decide for themselves.
May I be doing harm by rubbing wounds that have not yet healed? Maybe. I don't care. The only thing I'm concerned with is the truth.
There's no Lady Mondegreen. And yet, I am one.