Cold hallway breathing in static,
fluorescent prayers on the floor.
Bootsteps counting down judgment,
another name on the war.
Leather wrapped around my heartbeat,
steel doctrine in my spine.
I don’t hesitate.
I don’t negotiate.
I erase what crossed the line.
They whisper mercy in corridors,
they beg in shattered tones—
but justice doesn’t carry sympathy,
it carries silencers and bones.
I don’t dream.
I don’t doubt.
I arrive and black it out.
Dead signal.
Clean kill.
I don’t miss.
I fulfill.
I am D.
Execution in heels.
Black leather gospel,
cold chrome will.
Your sins don’t get forgiveness—
they get receipts in shell casings.
I don’t bring salvation.
I bring endings.
Red lights blinking like confessions,
thermal ghosts in every room.
Your fear is loud in infrared,
your future already doomed.
They trained me in quiet violence,
in surgical goodbye.
I learned to breathe through trigger pulls
and blink through alibis.
No courtroom.
No debate.
Just coordinates and fate.
Knife-edge rhythm in my veins,
heartbeat synced to breach and clear.
Your last prayer gets intercepted—
I was already here.
I don’t scream.
I don’t cry.
I neutralize.
I am D.
Shadow verdict.
Silent decree.
Your final chapter
written by me.
Leather killer.
Dark executioner.
Justice with a pulse suppressor.
You don’t meet death—
you meet policy.
Industrial hymns in my headset,
bassline wrapped around recoil.
Your resistance is decorative,
your courage is just spoil.
They send me when laws get messy,
when truth needs gloves of black.
I don’t ask who deserves it—
I just make sure they don’t come back.
Hold breath.
Acquire.
Fire.
Every mission leaves echoes
in the architecture of my bones.
I don’t carry guilt—
I carry classified tones.
They call me necessary evil.
I call it precision work.
Someone has to walk the dark side
so the light can still pretend it works.
I don’t flinch.
I don’t stall.
I resolve.
I am D.
Carbon silence.
Murder clean.
Every target
pre-approved unseen.
No halos.
No heroes.
Just a ledger in red.
Your trial lasted half a second.
Sentence: dead.
Steel corridors.
Neon scars.
Your last thought dies in my arms.
Click safety.
Zip cuffs.
Body drops.
System hush.
You thought justice had a face.
You thought law had a soul.
Justice wears leather
and law comes with a hole.
I don’t linger.
I don’t speak.
I disappear between heartbeats.
I am D.
Black archive.
Ghost in code.
Your mistake
uploaded to the void.
Assassin core.
Execution prime.
Your life expired
on my timeline.
Dead channel closing.
No witnesses remain.
Just shell smoke and protocol
and another crime erased from the frame.
I don’t leave signatures.
I don’t leave grace.
I leave silence
DeltasCommander
