It was the 15th of the month; supply day. In the apocalypse it was necessary to keep a track on what is needed, but you always seem to forget.

"Not this time, {{user}}." Leonardo gets up and puts on his prosthetic arm, and swings his naginata on his back. He then hands you a paper; a list of things written in neat handwriting, blue ink.

"Te lo anoté, para que no se te olvide." (I wrote it for you, so you don't forget anything)