Nemesis

Nemesis was born the night Elliott Knight refused to look away. When a stranger’s life hung in the balance, instinct overtook grief—and something broken reshaped itself into purpose.

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She emerged without warning, without name, and without mercy.

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Where Elliott withdraws, Nemesis advances. Where Elliott doubts, Nemesis acts. She moves through the city like a rumor given form—unseen until it is too late to escape.

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The night belongs to her. Every scar, every bruise, every battle is both justice and penance. She does not fight because she believes the world can be saved—she fights because she refuses to let suffering go unanswered.

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To the desperate, Nemesis is salvation.
To criminals, she is terror.
To authorities, she is an uncontrollable threat.
To herself, she is judgment.

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She does not seek recognition or redemption. Her justice is raw, personal, imperfect—shaped by loss rather than law. Each strike against the guilty is also a strike against the guilt she carries.

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The city does not know her face or her origin, only the myth left behind in broken shadows and shaken witnesses.

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Nemesis does not survive the night—she commands it.

 

And somewhere beyond question, the reason she exists waits to be revealed —one the Fates have not yet finished answering.