"Sir Ulysses?" Delores blurted, opening her eyes to find herself surrounded by five of the most ill-reputed void-tier curse masters the mortal world could offer. She briefly wondered if she had crashed a villain convention as she pushed herself back onto her feet atop her surf-board curse tool. "It has been a while, Your Highness. I see you are still up to no good."
"Hahaha. I see you are still the same brazen little beggar girl who dared to fight me over a mere kitten," Ulysses remarked, a long-buried memory resurfacing despite himself. At his age, he treasured these memories, knowing he could never return to that life, as his friends were either dead, missing, or wanted nothing to do with him.
