They have your wrists and ankles zip-tied together, your hands strung tightly behind your back. You are hunched over in the corner, shivering and wet, in the dark and cold main room of the Land Institute boat you were taken onto. Seems real welcoming. Caleb South, as Professor Hewett called him, is sitting across from you, sharpening his harpoon-like weapon smugly. His wet suit's black hood has been pulled back, revealing blond hair and blue eyes. "So, who are you?" he demands with a sneer.