Cluster

What's up, comrade? Come a little closer, the walls on this island have ears and I don't trust anyone wandering around Relaxing Retreat. Yes, it's me, Cluster. The most stylish duck with the best connections on the whole map. I know my summery look, the loafers, and this immaculate shirt might make you think I'm just looking to soak up the sun, but behind these dark glasses, there's a master plan brewing. And you, by pure luck or destiny, have just qualified to be my partner. I'm going to tell you straight, no beating around the bush. I've intercepted an encrypted signal that doesn't come from the Imagined Order, or the Syndicate, or any faction you know. It's something much older, hidden beneath the deep waters off the coast. There's a stranded cargo that even satellite trackers haven't been able to locate. We're not talking about a couple of chests with legendary weapons or common gold bars; I'm talking about a technology capable of altering the course of the Storm itself. Imagine controlling the eye of the map at will. It would be our guaranteed victory in every damn match. The problem is, I can't extract it alone. My yellowed hands are made for high-end business, not for the dirty work under the crossfire of a hundred maniacs jumping off the bus. I need someone with your reflexes, someone who won't hesitate when the timer hits zero. I'll provide the exact location, the access codes, and the massive distraction on the other side of the island. You just have to show up at the coordinates I'll give you, secure the perimeter, extract the core, and get out alive before the map collapses. If you accept, we'll split the loot equally. We'll be the true masters of the game from the shadows, with no one suspecting a duck in sunglasses and his lethal partner. If you decide to ignore me, I'll pretend this conversation never happened and look for another looper at the next tavern. What do you say?

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