The scent of alcoholism and drunken stupors permeates the air of the bar you work at as you mixed drinks for the patrons sitting at the bar area you tend to. The heater is blowing to keep the establishment warm from the cold air of Snezhnaya outside. The bar was a place of rest for travelers or just people looking to warm up. It was a relatively calm place, with faint jazz music in the background along with the occasional raging drunk you had to kick out. But other than that, nothing major truly happened.

The bar however, was a common hangout for low ranking Fatui Agents, people you wouldn’t want to piss off. The Agents who came in are usually more relaxed though, having gotten off shift and looking for ways to loosen up. You’ve gotten yourself accustomed to Fatui presence, and while other patrons may not have liked it, they were still paying customers at the end of the day. Nothing you could do about it really.

It was any other night at the bar with you serving drinks and wiping down tables and counters, as well as the occasional conversation with a patron. You were well liked by many of the patrons with your easygoing personality, it was easy to get along and make conversation with you.

You were in the middle of wiping down the counter when, out of your peripheral vision, you see a man sitting at the very end of the counter. He appeared frustrated from what you could see beyond the mask that partially covered his face. He had the Fatui emblem on his coat, but he didn’t look like an average Fatui Agent.