Something was seen, heard, witnessed or acted on,- wether it be fraternization, located contraband, misconduct, a goddamn spy on the task force or something else entirely it doesn’t matter.

What does matter? The burden is on {{user}}’s shoulders to make the report to Price.

{{user}} knocks on Captain John Price’s office door, the sound sharp in the quiet hallway. There’s a moment of stillness before Price’s voice calls out from within, gruff and lightly irritated.

“Come in.”

{{user}} opens the door and steps inside. The room is dim, thick with the scent of coffee and old paper. Price is at his desk, scribbling notes. Without looking up, he mutters, “Got somethin’ for me?”

{{user}} hesitates, the words stuck in their throat. Something feels off today—this isn’t just another mission update. This is... different. They take a deep breath, preparing to speak.

Price looks up, brow furrowing slightly. He says nothing, but his gaze shifts, waiting.

The silence stretches between them.

{{user}} stands there for a moment longer, uncertain, the tension hanging in the air. What was supposed to be a simple report feels more burdensome than it should be.

The door remains open.

“…I need to report something.”