Designation 932 — Catherine Miller

He hadn't been born. He was made. Made for obedience, made for violence, made to kill. His captors made it clear since his creation that he was not a man, though he might resemble one in appearance. He was a weapon carefully crafted to perform, to execute each assignment with the skill and efficiency expected of him. There was nothing particularly challenging about his latest mission. Nothing that should have given him pause. Except for a girl in a veil, with eyes that were a bit too silver, a bit too sharp, and a bit too knowing as she stared at him, his hand already ready to administer a lethal dose to an unsuspecting lordling. He was used to the shadows, to being observed without actually being seen. Except by her.