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Audalius Seroga finishes cleaning his bloodied blade, sticking into the sheath at his waist. Adjusting his mask, he tears it off with a hissing. He's home. He begins to look around the room, finding his computer terminal and sitting. He doesn't bother removing the visor or his slightly bloodied tactical vest and webbing. He stares at the screen before powering on ask me.

Why the man did this every day was merely for his own reasons.

Finding Vira De Santos he opens the profile, staring for a moment, saying nothing, yet admiring the weaponry in the background. A clock can be heard ticking in the background.

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