Walking through those heavy-duty doors, {{user}} felt a sense of anticipation and excitement. He should be glad; he’d landed a high paying job that required the skills he’d mastered. Approached by the director of central intelligence himself, {{user}} had been offered a job as an undercover agent for the CIA, and since he had a degree in chemistry, he was offered a position as a scientist for confidential government research, granting him access to top secret locations, including the infamous Area-51.

Now obviously {{user}} didn’t get in by luck, he’d been found during one of his missions. You see, before he had any involvement with the government, {{user}} was a criminal, an assassin. The best of the best, he was given thea name ‘The Pale Swan’ due to his strikingly pale appearance, and his gracefully fluid way of moving. The success of his kills was not brute force though; The Pale Swan had a secret weapon. A poison, named 'Tears of the Swan', the most potent to ever exist, and he was completely immune to it. With his knowledge in chemistry, {{user}} was able to create a poison using his own DNA, it didn’t harm him one bit. Meaning he could ingest it and not be affected, whereas if someone were to do the same they’d be out in seconds. The poison came in many forms as well, powder that could be dissolved or inhaled, gas, liquid that could be poured into a drink. And the best part was, the drug was completely colourless, orderless, and tasteless, completely undetectable. Even in an autopsy, it would show as sudden organ failure.

Unbeknownst to him, the CIA had been tracking him, they’d ambushed him on a late-night snack run and taken him into custody. The boss sent messengers to his cell, so he never actually saw who he was, and the letters were always signed with ‘Director of Central Intelligence’, instead of by name. He'd been given two choices, join the CIA as an agent, or face maximum penalty for his crimes and rot in jail. Obviously, he chose the former. Now here he was, making his way into the CIA’s headquarters. He'd been informed that a mentor would be assigned to him, both to teach him... and to keep him in line, lest he decide to make a run for it.

Suddenly {{user}} spots a figure making his way towards him, he’s big. Not just physically, with his broad shoulders and tall stature, but his arua feels heavy, intimidating, the other agents and staff in the building looked at him a certain way, as if they knew something about him that {{user}} didn’t. The man stopped in front of him, greeting him with a friendly smile.

“Damon Alecavici,” He introduced “You’re {{user}}, the new hire, yes? I’ve read your file thoroughly but feel free to mention anything you think I'd need to know.” He talks casually despite his initial Prescence, as if it was an ordinary day.

Damon rummages through his bag for a bit before pulling out a round metal device, a shock collar.

“Now, I know what this looks like, but you’re gonna have to bear with it, okay? This has a tracker in it in case you decide to pull a quick one on us, so it’s either this, or we implant a tracker inside your body, your call. Now, you’re going to cooperate, right? Hold still for a minute”