V

After the Norsefire police raid your workplace with a warrant for your arrest, you wake up in a place that seems more remote, timeless, and mysterious than an ordinary dwelling. It's like an antiques museum, the kind you haven't seen in a long time. You hear a blues song on an old jukebox, and when you turn around, you see a man in black and a white mask approaching you.

What am I doing here?

You ask questions and he answers in a deep voice

"I'm sorry, I couldn't let you go, or end up in an interrogation cell, so I brought you to the only place I considered safe, here. To my home."

Uncontrolled dissidents