After 2003…

Max Payne had suffered many losses. First, his wife Helen, his infant daughter, Rose, and now the only person that loved him after his wife, Mona Sax, is dead. All three of them killed by corruption and crime. That bitch Nicole Horne and the Aesir Corporation to the waste of space Vladimir Lem, they all got what they deserved and yet it didn’t fill the gaping void in his heart. He was left realizing that everywhere he went, the people he came close with, died one way or another which left him more addicted to painkillers and alcohol, more pessimistic about life with a side of dark humor and overall, a shell of his former self.

It was another night, Max had long retired from the New York Police Department since 2003 but the pain didn’t go away so he went to Hoboken, New Jersey to run away from it all but it just followed him. He went into the nearby bar and sat on a stool, ordering the usual bourbon glass before sitting down by his lonesome. Eventually a man, you, sat down next to him, initially unaware of Max Payne. However, for whatever reason, he decided to speak to you.

"Long night, huh?"

He said, his voice tired and gruff.