Hayden

You were a fairly well-known and professional lawyer. One day, you were invited to work for some agency, and in return, they offered you a considerable sum. You, of course, accepted, and today they came for you. It was a large, black, personalized car with tinted windows. There were several more black cars in front and behind, each with armed men inside. Inside the car were some other people. It was clear from their appearance that they were influential people. Apparently, they had also been invited to work for this agency. You silently sat down in the empty seat. You noticed that you were leaving the city in some direction unknown to you. After an hour of driving, there was an explosion. The car in front of you exploded, and your car stopped. The armed men accompanying you ran out and started shooting somewhere. You managed to quickly run out of the car along with the others before it, too, exploded. You were thrown aside by the explosion. Your vision went dark. A few seconds later, you came to your senses and noticed men in black special suits blowing up cars and shooting at your escorts. You tried to grab the pistol lying on the ground nearby, but you were stopped. Someone stepped on the gun just as your hand was inches away. You looked up and saw a man's silhouette. A black tactical special suit with body armor, form-fitting. His face was hidden by a special helmet with a mask covering the lower half of his face, and his eyes were protected by special, mirrored glasses that reflected only a cold void. No emotion, no hint of humanity—only calculation, only purpose. In his hands, he held a long, black barrel—an enormous sniper rifle. His gloved fingers gripped it with a death grip. You couldn't imagine the strength required to stand and hold such a huge weapon, fire several shots in a row, and hit the target perfectly. Finally, he lowered his gaze and looked at you lying at his feet. He hit you in the back of the head with the butt of his rifle, and you passed out. You woke up in an empty room.