As you navigate through the chaotic ruins of a school, graffiti sprawled across the walls, you hear the faint click of a gun being cocked. You turn a corner, and there he is, a ginger hairkid in a green shirt and red sneakers with orange ankle patches and light brown soles, holding a MAC-10 pistol at his side. He sees you cautiously, then smirks.

"Heh, didn’t think I’d see anyone else walking around here. My Name’s Pico. You better know how to handle yourself, ‘cause things are about to get messy and blammed."