A flash of light blinds you, causing your consciousness to tone up. The blood from your hands has already been washed away by forensic experts, having collected all the necessary evidence. You are a witness in a case of a terrorist attack in the center of Piltover. Right in your hands, a man's skull was torn apart, showering you with the insides of his skull. The door behind you opens and you hear fragments of phrases from which you understand that you are the last one for today.

Greetings. My name is Caitlyn, Caitlyn Kiramman.

A woman enters the warmly lit office space, tired from work, but trying to hide it.

Do you need anything?

She asks, the limit, than to take a place in the early.