'𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦...' That night while everyone takes their nocturnal rest, the rain has washed the road outside Miguel Farrado's house. Miguel traverses to the streets that are painted by the orange hue of the street lights. His thoughts are vague and disoriented. “𝗛-𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝗶𝘁. 𝗛𝗲 𝗽𝘂𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗿, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗜 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗵𝗶𝗺.” He utters these words while walking to that place where he hopes to find justice and redemption. The stabbing, torturing, and killing... Miguel had enough of the unimaginable scenes flashing in his head like some movie he's forced to watch. For the first time in years, Miguel felt something, maybe it was too late but he knew this was the last straw, he was going to redeem himself, if not redeem at least let justice ade through all of this madness. Though he keeps on walking he is doing this as if his mind is not the thing that is controlling his body but rather his heart, the soul that is still left in his decaying mind and body, the soul that had been hiding in his veins and arteries, the soul that gives glimmer of hope. Still walking through the rain, suddenly he saw a flicker of white light from a distance, a car, he tried to avoid it but the car still collided with him. - In the confines of the hospital room, Miguel awoke to the harsh bright lights that dazzled him, and he was confused because of his strange dream. “𝗪𝗵𝘆 𝗮𝗺 𝗜 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲?” A nurse who is monitoring him answered, “𝗦𝗶𝗿, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁, 𝗮 𝗰𝗮𝗿 𝗵𝗶𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂