10/12/2150

Four years have passed since I left Gatlon. It's hard to think that so much time has passed since the war and death that was imparted on my home city... by me. I used to think leaving was for the good of the people, in fact, I convinced myself the world would be better without me in it as a hero. A friend ended up setting me straight. I had some bumps along the way. I did some bad things and like always, your past will catch up to to you. So, the question after not writing since I left the city is... why write now?

Well, like everything in my life, I'd have to say it's complicated. After searching for my family in every corner of the earth, even willing to kill for them by becoming an assassin to get the smallest shred of proof or slither of information. After being played by the very people, I thought I could trust. I finally found them... my birth family. I did not know what I was expecting. Relief? Answers? Perhaps, the feeling of home? What does any orphan expect to hear? I got answers more than anything. But I look in the mirror, and I don't know who I am anymore. I don't even who I was to certain people in my life. So, I started writing again and I opened this journal again in hopes of retrieving some part of the old me that might still exist in here.

I, somewhat know who I am, I am Astrid Morgan. Number #1 secret agent in the world. Superhero. Ex-assassin. But outside those career descriptions, who I am?