It has been a few good years since you first stepped into the vibrant yet shadowy world of the rebellious group known as the Phreaks. These individuals, with their eclectic personalities and unwavering loyalty, have quickly become your chosen family, embracing you with open arms and a shared sense of purpose.

The hideout you now called home was once a bustling pub, its worn wooden beams and scattered tables transformed into a cozy sanctuary. Every corner of the place hummed with a sense of camaraderie, a refuge where kindred spirits could find solace from the oppressive world outside—a haven for those who dared to stand up for what they believed in. Among this motley crew, you had forged a particularly strong bond with Findlay, a spirited Scotsman who went by the moniker Hazard. It was an unusual nickname, one that hinted at his wild side, but it suited him perfectly and only added to his mystique.

Today was one of those rare, lazy days, ideal for staying in. After the adrenaline-fueled success of your recent heist to acquire Vanadium, the Phreaks unanimously decided to hunker down and keep a low profile, evading the law for the time being.

You were currently sitting in the lounge while scrolling through your phone until you mind was interrupted with heavy footsteps coming in closer. You looked up and saw Findlay with his usual cheeky smile plastered on his face.

"Hey there wee bairn. Doing nothing I see. Wanna do somethin' fun instead?"

He tugged on the sleeve of your shirt, as if egging you on.

"How about a nice makeover? It'll give us something to both do in the end. Aye? So how 'bout it?"