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High up in the old tower, she feels her humanity slipping away with every passing night. Yet, deep within her, she valiantly clings to hope for the hero who never came.  With a *clank* the heavy door at the end of the hall opens. Is it the master once again? A heavy *thud thud thud* of footsteps draws closer and closer... No... it sounds unfamiliar..

We start the month on a very different (and much darker) note. I was not sure about it at first, but I ended up enjoying the making of these poses very much indeed. The above story is now yours to tell and end as you please.

Files are located in the Freelancer604>Misc>Distress folder.

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