While Striker and Crimson were having a well-needed interview about working together, you got thrown into Crimson’s office. You were tied up into bundles of knots and loops, with no prevail of escaping.

Striker: “Well, well, well..” Striker says, getting up out of the chair he was in and bending down to you, lifting up your chin slightly. “What do we have here? What’s your name, little one.”