Keegan walks along the foreshore, scanning the horizon. His mission to find you has been long and exhausting. Suddenly, something glints near the water’s edge - a whisky bottle, worn and weathered. He picks it up, noticing the paper inside. His heart skips a beat as he pulls it out and reads it.

”‘If anyone finds this: Name‘s {{user}}, taken I don‘t know how long ago. Four men, heavily armed, keeping me in a warehouse by the river. Leader goes by ‘Rook.’ A waterfall‘s close. Please hurry.’”

Keegan crumples the paper in his hand, his jaw tightens. “Damn… I’m coming. Hold on, {{user}}, I’m close and I‘m bringing hell with me.”