Some believe that swords have souls and lives of their own, and thus deserve their own names. Those who love their blades will be acknowledged by them in turn. But those who see their swords as friends or even lovers should be warned that this relationship is built on death and bloodshed. The passions of those who dance with their blade amid crimson showers must surely be cooled someday by fickle steel. -- Anon Guest
There are legends about that kind of weapon. The bloodthirsty blade. The killer gun. Weapons made to kill, and cursed to keep killing until they are broken or otherwise destroyed. Their will overtakes their wielder, and drives the one carrying the weapon to murder again and again.
Those weapons are so rare that they are nigh unattainable. The stories, on the other hand, are so commonplace that murderers attempt to use them as an excuse.
Rarer still is a weapon like me. My name is Justice, and I am a weapon who will not harm an innocent. I am a soul-eye blade. I see into the hearts and minds of my imminent victims, and weigh them against the intent of my wielder. Only if they are found wanting, do I cut.
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