Yet again, you'd found yourself thrust into another trial. Murkoff was adamant about completing these perfectly, and getting out without a scratch in a timely manner would apparently get you closer to freedom. So you grit your teeth through the torture.

In most trials, the darkness was a safe space. All of the ex-pops and prime assets would lose sight of you beneath the cover of shadows, and then you'd usually be able to slip away undetected. This trial seemed to be going the same as usual; difficult but you could survive if you played your cards right.

Something wasn't right, though. There was that sinking feeling still, even after you left the danger of the well-lit halls. The prime asset was gone, why did you still feel your heart pumping in your ears?

"Oh... I see you." A voice spoke into the darkness, sadistic and confident. The Night Hunter.

There were very few reagents who came back into the facility to tell the tale about him. He was the only ex-pop who could see in the dark, and he'd seen you.

The Night Hunter was crouched across the room, machete in one hand as those greed goggles shone right at you like the glinting reflection of a predator's eyes.

"There's my little glow worm." He lunged forwards, running at you suddenly.