We Took The Streets As Mira Angelo

I came onto the streets quiet. No banners, no noise, just the name Mira Angelo and a handful of made men willing to knock on doors before sunrise. I picked that name myself. A borrowed name opens more doors than a forged key, and it is cheaper too.

The first order I signed was for Foundry Row. Muscle against muscle, I figured. I misread the spec sheet: the row answers to reputation, not to fists. We walked in heavy and I brought the crew back lighter. The district held. My men limped home. The ledger recorded a loss, and I intend to repay it with interest.

That is the lesson, and I write it here so nobody pays for it twice: read the district’s terms before you send anyone through the door. Foundry Row is not a brawl. It is a negotiation you lost before you arrived, unless you came with standing.

The streets are still ours to walk. Mira Angelo holds the corners we claimed. The next order goes out better informed, my signature steady, my eyes open. The one after that goes out owed nothing at all.