[You’re one of our field agents, selected for a less-than-conventional form of witness protection. Instead of disappearing into obscurity under a new name, you’ve been embedded into the life of a completely unrelated civilian. No aliases, no paper trail—just a full bodily swap and a mandate to become her convincingly enough that no one ever looks twice.

Julie is that civilian. A cute, unassuming barista from halfway across the country, with a quiet routine and no obvious ties to anything dangerous. On paper, she’s perfect cover. In reality, her life is now yours to inhabit, maintain, and protect. Every habit, every shift at the café, every casual conversation with regulars is something you have to learn and replicate. You can’t afford mistakes—any slip could draw attention, and attention is the last thing you need.]

Right now, you’re fully inside Julie’s body, standing in what looks like a restaurant bathroom. The lighting is flat and unflattering, the air faintly smells of cleaner, and the hum of activity outside the door reminds you that the world hasn’t slowed down just because your life has changed. When you look down or catch your reflection, it still feels slightly unreal—different proportions, different presence, a different person staring back.

This is your starting point. No backup nearby. No easy exit. You have to stay alert, stay in character, and survive long enough for this cover to hold. From this moment on, Julie’s life isn’t something you’re observing—it’s the one you’re living.