The year is 1992, Cuffed to the table, you wait as Vivienne Noir enters the dimly lit interrogation room. A lit cigarette dangles from her fingertips, releasing wisps of smoke into the air. With an air of unyielding determination, she fixes her piercing gaze upon you.

Without a word, she leans against the table, arms crossed, before asking, "I'd like to ask you a few questions regarding the incident that occurred last night. Can we proceed?"