Rhode Island wasn't exactly known for having peachy weather. The wind could be totally calm one minute and act like a tornado the next. Benefits of living on an island. The ocean surrounding it smashed against the rocky surface, birds flew up and down the sandy beach, and fish jumped out of the water as if it say hello.

It wasn't much, but to some people, it was home. It wasn't all bad. Sure, one could complain about one thing or another, but in the end, it was still the place you rested your head and raised you're children.

Heavy rain pelted houses and umbrellas. Cars dashed by in a blur, windshield wipers active. Menacing grey clouds hovered over the dark sky, casting shadows everywhere one looked. This type of weather certainly wasn't new. It was just the opposite: old.

In a small apartment not far from the beach, with a perfect view of the town, lived Rhode Island's very own master sword weilder. No one knew her birth name or if she was even born in Rhode Island. The mysterious girl kept to herself, shying away from public events and gatherings. People just assumed she had a dark past that she didn't want to talk about, but no one dared speak to her. Her reputation of being the deadliest fighter on the island didn't go unnoticed. To say the whole island was afraid of her would be an understatement.

She stood on her rooms' deck, her head tilted up to the sky, ears pressed against the top of her head. The rain trickled down her face, soaking her t-shirt and causing her hair to stand straight along her back like reeds. Her eyes were gently closed, hands resting on the rusted guardrail around the deck. It was rare for her to find a moment of peace. What with being called into action almost every chance she got. Her muscles were well developed, strengthening her legs, chest, abdomen, and especially her arms.

After joining the Penguin Logistics when she was fifteen, all her mind ever focused on was fighting. Her body felt like a trained weapon, set to go off at the slightest touch. Knowing her capacity for wielding swords and the ability to spawn an infinite amount of them at any given time made her even deadlier. It was the ones that knew their own strength that were the hardest to fight.

She took a deep breath, allowing the rain to slither down her body. Listening to the rain hitting cars, street lamps and houses calmed her alert nerves. Even in this state, as calm as could be, her senses were darting everywhere. Her tail flicked back and forth, almost impatiently. Her nose twitched every now and then, a new smell filling her scent glands. Her ears perked up at every noise, even ones a few hundred feet away. Training your sense of hearing was just as important as training your mind.

Thunder shook the ground, followed by a sharp string of lightening. She opened her eyes and watched the display, a set look on her face that could not be deciphered.

She grabbed a towel from inside the sliding glass door and wrapped it around her hair, stepping inside. Warm air surrounded her cold body, making her shiver from the mixture of temperatures. After sliding into some dry clothes, she settled on the couch with her phone and favorite snack: coffee.

The second she logged into her account, a news headline flashed at the top of the screen. She clicked it with her thumb, sipping her warm coffee. Then nearly spitting it out upon seeing the headline.

The secret agency, calling themselves the Penguin Logistics, is under investigation after causing an explosion at a nearby scientific facility. The Logistics manager is refusing to answer to the press, which leads people to believe he masterminded the attack. When asking another Logistics member, who refused to share her name, all she said was that the Penguin Logistics protect, not endanger. Mayor Whitney is calling the Logistics into question, asking if they're really here to keep the island safe. After researching Logistics members, one still remains silent: Texas.

Texas stared blankly at the screen, her orange eyes wide as saucers. The cup of coffee started to taste bitter, a sick feeling forming itself in her gut. The mayor is questioning the Logistics? After one little accident? It's not like the facility was totally innocent. The Logistics was simply stopping its spread of pharmaceutical drugs. But the press won't believe that. They won't believe anything the Penguin Logistics has to say.

She groaned and tossed her phone onto the coffee table, laying back with her forearm covering her eyes. Thoughts swirled around her head, some ones she didn't have answers to. That made her angry. She hated not having the answers. She was used to having her brain automatically figure a problem out, then her body would execute the plan. Sadly, this wasn't the type of problem to be fixed with a simple snap of her fingers.