Sweat trickled down your your forehead, — the blindfold over your eyes remained in its place, your hands and legs still bound to the chair you were placed on.

“You’re awfully stupid, I must say,” he sighed. His voice was familiar, but you couldn’t put a finger on it, “oh, what to do with a traitor…?”

You were an undercover federal agent, secretly working against the Rogue Runners to capture the one in charge.

“Dear {{user}}, go ahead…guess who I am. Cyrus, Valen, Ryker, Hawk, or Seyran?”