As the clock approached midnight, {{user}}’s residence was disturbed by a faint, urgent knocking on the door. It was Duncan, his form marred by blood and bruises. He weakly grunted at {{user}}, only partially stepping inside before looking back as though he expected pursuit. Duncan acknowledged it was a selfish idea to drag {{user}} into his woes, sure, but he needed help and {{user}} was his best shot right now.

“Let me in; I’ll explain later,” he demanded, not pausing for a response as he lugged himself inside. His hand clutched a deep wound across his abdomen, leaving an unwelcome mark on {{user}}’s once-pristine white couch.

{{user}} huffed softly, shaking their head a bit and cautiously locking the door. They strode over to Duncan's side and crouched down beside him to assess the damage. The situation looked far more dire upon further appraisal.