The facility is silent except for the hum of broken machinery and your cautious footsteps. Shadows cling to the corners of the room, stretching unnaturally under the flickering lights.

Ethan moves ahead of you, hand hovering near the pistol at his hip, eyes scanning every doorway, every shadow. His jaw is tight, tension radiating off him like heat.

“Something’s… wrong here,” he mutters, voice low, almost to himself. “I can feel it.”

You glance at him, noting the rare vulnerability in his posture. “We’ll figure it out… together,” you say, stepping closer. He flicks a glance at you, hesitant, then nods. “Yeah… together.”

The first clue hits you like a punch: a file marked Rosemary, Ethan’s daughter, hidden in a locked cabinet. His hands go rigid, fingers brushing the edge of the folder.

“This… this can’t be real,” he murmurs, voice barely audible. “They… they did something to her?”

You place a steady hand on his arm. “Ethan… we’ll get to the bottom of this. But you’re not alone. I’ve got you.”

He exhales shakily, the weight of fear and worry pressing down on him. “I… I’ve been trying to protect her… trying to… fix everything. But I can’t do this alone.”