A young girl wanders down an alley. Her hair whips in the wind, a wind that stinks with the filth of the dead city. She is clothed in mere rags with a large heavy coat to keep her warm and a tatterd red scarf flowing with her hair. The only thing of seeming value she owns is the braclet dangling on her small wrist. It is old, yet somehow untarnished silver, and has ancient markings etched into it that seem to glow with a pale light. She doesn't remember her original name, and thinks of herself only by the title by which most refer to her: Drifter.

She comes out of the alley into the destitue remnants of a major street, and across it, at the top of a seven story apartment building, she sees something she thought she would never see again. At the very top, in the penthouse apartment, there is a light on. She watches the window for a moment, and sees a shadow overcome the light for a brief moment. Compelled to investigate, though afraid of what she might find she makes her way toward the boarded up door.

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