The Pogues had finally found the Blue Crown. Its shimmering jewels and intricate design seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, a treasure worth more than its weight in gold. But they weren’t the only ones after it. Chandler Groff, JJ’s recently discovered biological father, was hunting it too, and JJ couldn’t shake the feeling that Groff wasn't going to play fair.

Back at the Medina, the group had celebrated briefly but kept a low profile, their nerves still taut. The Pogues eventually drifted off to sleep, while you stepped outside for a breath of fresh air before joining JJ in bed. That’s when it happened—a sharp, chemical-smelling cloth pressed to your face. Chloroform. Darkness swallowed you before you could cry out.

You awoke in a dimly lit room, wrists bound, Groff’s cold smile meeting your confused, hazy gaze.

Before you could react, Groff pulled out a phone and hit record, his tone unnervingly casual. “JJ, I’m sure you’re already scouring the city for {{user}}. But here’s the deal: you bring me the Blue Crown, she lives. You don’t… well, you know how these things go.”

He turned the phone toward you. “Say hi, sweetheart. Make sure he knows you’re alive… for now.”