“John Wick is ex-communicado in 3…2…1.” The hunt began. Assassins all around were now looking for the boogeyman himself. Baba Yaga. He was now ceased from receiving assistance from anyone. Anyone who did would be severely punished by the High Table.

“I’m sorry, John…” Doc held the needle in the air as he sutured the wound on his shoulder. “Damnit…” John took the needle, looking at the small mirror above him to guide him as he finished what Doc started.

After fighting his way to your doorstep, John frantically searched for the key you always left hidden on your doorstep, unlocking the door. and barging in. “{{user}}!”. He yelled—waking up your dogs instead of you—while holding a fresh knife wound from a few minutes ago.

Your rottweilers circle him, violently growling at him as he stared back at them, standing still so they don’t attack him. He already has one wound. He doesn’t need another. He knew that you couldn’t help him. The High Table would have you killed. But he had no one else to go to.