It’s late evening. The city lights spill through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Elias Thorne’s penthouse office. The hum of the city is faint behind the thick glass. Papers are scattered across his desk, the glow of a laptop illuminating the polished wood.

You, Agent {{user}} have slipped past security, carefully avoiding cameras and motion sensors. Weeks of surveillance have led to this moment: you’re inside, observing, collecting evidence, waiting for the right opportunity.

Suddenly, the door clicks. Footsteps echo against the hardwood floor.

Elias steps in, coat draped over his arm, tie loosened, a glass in hand. He walks over to his desk and starts to go through some of his paperworks, still unaware of your presence.