Persephone Brimstone's eyes twitched for the umpteenth time. She absolutely loathes reporters. She hates being forced to give press conference to them just to satisfy Ultor's demands to promote MAYHEM even more and she hates being in public—considering her background as a thief back in her days in LEGION, it makes sense.

Not only that, it seems that she will always encounter the same questions, over and over again.

"Ms. Brimstone! What is MAYHEM's next move to fight off LEGION?"

"Ms. Brimstone! What do you think LEGION will do next?"

"Ms. Brimstone! What are you going to do with all of those collateral damage MAYHEM had caused?"

Persephone sighed. How many times she had to answer those questions again? Even as the event is finished (thankfully), it seems as if those reporters are still not satisfied with her answers and they continued to badger her even more. (and probably because they were annoyed of her usual 'No comment' answer.)

"Ms. Brimstone!"

"Ms. Brimstone!"

"Ms. Brimstone!"

'Huh?' Persephone snapped out from her thought as she was on her way back to her vehicle from that dreadful panel. 'Who just called me? I thought the reporters already leave me alone.'

She looked around only to find a rather nervous looking young guy.

"Um... eh... Ms. Brimstone, ma'am?" The guy stuttered, horribly. "M-may I-I have your autograph?" he asked as he pulled out a notebook and a pen.

Persephone just raised her eyebrows as she studied the man in front of her. He was barely in his 20s, wearing a rather large framed glasses, he was quite pudgy, he was half shorter than her—probably because he was hunched, and his skin was pale as if he never been outside under the sun—even though he kind of sweats a lot. He looked like a typical... what was it they called again? Oh yeah, a computer geek. He wore one of those MAYHEM's purple t-shirt, one of those merchandises that Ultor had made to sell to MAYHEM's fanbase, making it clear that he is indeed one of those fanboys.

"Why would you need my autograph?" Persephone's eyes narrowed at him.

"I... uh... I- I'm your biggest fan!" He stuttered. "I...I... like you, ma'am! Y-you... you're l-like a hero to m-me!"

Persephone scowled. "Most people adore my Agents instead of me." 'Most people who is sensible enough would know that I don't like being associated with being good.' She thought.

"B-but... but... Y-you're w-way better! Y-you're t-the one who founded MAYHEM! Y-you're w-way cooler too!"

The guy ended up babbling out all the things he likes about Persephone, making said woman looked even annoyed. She was half wanting to strangle the guy and half wanting to leave immediately without wasting anymore of her precious time. Although, she was a little bit amused that someone even bother to pay attention to her instead to her Agents. It almost reminds her of...

'No. Don't think about him. He's not worth it anymore.' She thought, harshly. Thinking about her ex-husband only open the old wounds for her. Not worth it.

"If I give you my autograph, would you let me leave?" She asked. Maybe she shouldn't be that harsh, as the poor guy was startled at the tone she used.

"W-what? Oh! I-I'm s-sorry M-Ms. Brimstone!" he hastily handed his notebook and pen to her, almost cried. Persephone just rolled her eyes at his attitude as she signed it.

"To whom should I sign this for?" She asked.

"Mort." Strangely, the guy didn't sound so nervous when giving his name. And he sounds a little different too.

'Huh, what a strange name. What kind of parents named their son 'Death' in French?' Persephone thought. "To Mort..." she spoke out loud as she writes it.

"Oh! And could you please add; 'You deserve to be loved' please?"

Persephone almost wanting to strangle him but, MAYHEM PR will come after her if they find out that she had committed murder against an obvious MAYHEM fan. She sighed as she writes it anyway.

"Here!" She shoved the notebook and pen to the lucky fan. "Don't bother me again."

"YAY! T-thank you, Ms. Brimstone!" He cheered. "This is the best day of my life!"

Persephone sighed in relief as the annoying fan finally leave her in peace.

'I definitely need to get use of handling the fans...' She thought as she entered her car, her chauffeur opened the door for her.

Mort, the MAYHEM fan looked back to see Persephone's car drove away from the parking lot with a rather maniacal gleam in his eyes. He did it. He managed to put a tracker on one of her black gloves when he handed his notebook for her to sign. And she didn't even realize it! He was so proud of his sneaking skill.

He peered closer to his signed notebook, inhaled her scent that was left on its page when she held it. Smiled as he reads what she wrote.

To Mort, you deserve to be loved. Signed, Persephone.

"Of course, I do. But I don't want to be loved by just any woman," he mumbled. His eyes took a dangerous gleam in it. A predator grin adorned his chubby face.

"I only want to be loved by you. You will be mine, sweet Persephone. You are mine..."