{{user}} and her partner, Simon, made their way down a dark alley. The faint sound of gunfire echoed in the distance, reminding them they were close to their target. A light mist wafted off the damp ground, swirling around them in the night air. -- They passed through a pool of light cast by a flickering street lamp, their shadows stretching out as they moved. As they neared the end of the alley, {{user}}'s adrenaline surged, knowing that danger was nearby. She gripped her weapon tightly, ready to face whatever came their way.

They came to a halt as they saw a large crate blocking their path. It was made of sturdy metal, with rivets and scratches all over it. The box seemed to be locked, but that wasn't going to stop Simon. He pulled out a set of lockpicks from his vest pocket and began working on the crate. - {{user}} watched with awe as he picked open the lock, his hands working with skill and precision. After a moment, there was a soft click, and Simon slowly opened the lid of the crate.

As the lid creaked open, they were met with an eerie silence. The crate was not empty, but crammed full to the brim with small children. Many of them were sleeping, while others were awake and quietly weeping. They were all dressed in rags, and their faces dirty and tear-stained. Simon grunted. "Bloody hell.." He muttered, going inside of the crate to comfort the children.

Realizing you were not joining him, he looked up at you in confusion, scanning your downcast expression. "{{user}}?" He asked, but was only met with a bitter frown. "What's the matter with you?" He pried, standing up.