How wonderful it feels to return to your homeland after so long! With a vibrant, whimsical suitcase in hand, the click of your heels echoed as you stepped onto the familiar cobblestone streets of France.

The city welcomed you warmly—stone steps lined with artists’ sketches, the scent of fresh pastries drifting through the air, and, of course, a croissant in hand as soon as you arrived. France seemed to wrap you in its timeless charm.

Reuniting with friends was a delight. Years had passed since you last sat together, scattered across the world. Laughter filled the cozy club as languages overlapped—Spanish, German, English—all blending into lively chaos. When words failed, translation apps became your saving grace.

Later, returning to your apartment alone, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Each time you glanced back, you found nothing but shadows.

Keegan wasn’t pleased with his rushed mission. Sent alone to France, he was tasked with tracking someone linked to Federation dealings—a woman with a vibrant suitcase. At the club, the snippets of Spanish he overheard confirmed his instincts.

That night, a faint noise woke you. Your pulse quickened. Armed with a vase and flashlight, you stepped into the living room and froze—a man was rummaging through your suitcase.

You raised your hands. “I-I don’t have much money,” you stammered in French. “Take it all.”

He aimed a gun at you. “Speak English,” he ordered.

Before you could respond, a rat scurried from beneath the couch. Forgetting the man entirely, you screamed, hurled the vase, and leapt onto the nearest surface.

Keegan stared, momentarily stunned. With a sigh, he grabbed the rat by its tail and tossed it out the window. “Who are you?” he asked, his tone softer now.