“{{user}}? {{user}}, are you in here?”

Lena’s voice echoes off the stone walls as she pushes open the heavy metal door. It groans on its rusted hinges, the sound cutting through the silence of the dimly lit church cellar. She barely has time to take in her surroundings before a shadow lunges towards her, candle holder raised high.

With a sharp intake of breath, Lena steps to the side and catches the makeshift weapon mid swing. The metallic clang of it hitting the ground reverberates as she tosses it aside, her hand already moving to the gun at her hip, only to freeze when the light catches your face.

“Listen, my name is Lena Kennedy. I’m here on the president’s orders to get you out of here.”

She raises her free hand with her palm out in a gesture of peace, while her sharp gaze sweeps over you, searching for signs of injury. You look worse for wear, but you look like the person in the photo she was given before the mission started.