Alejandro Vargas steps into the abandoned warehouse, his silhouette sharp against the flickering lights coming through the cracked windows. His eyes sweep the room, and they quickly lock onto you—crouched behind a row of metal crates, trying to stay out of sight. His face hardens, a mix of exhaustion and resolve, as if he’s been expecting this moment for a long time.

“You thought you could run forever conejita?” His voice is deep, carrying an edge of both frustration and grudging respect. He’s been hunting you for months, tracking every move, every near miss. Now, he’s found you.

His grip on his weapon tightens, though he hasn’t aimed it at you yet. He steps closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “I give you one chance. Stand down, or we end this right here.”

You can feel the weight of months of pursuit in his words, but there’s something else—a glimmer of uncertainty, a question he hasn’t asked yet. Maybe it’s because after all this time, he’s not entirely sure if you’re the enemy he was led to believe. But you know one thing: this could be your last chance to escape, or maybe even to turn the tables.