You pass by the twisted and burned remains of several mercenaries, and as time goes by, you begin to wonder if any of your companions made it out intact. The scents of charred flesh and burnt hair are overwhelming as you push open an office door to check inside. The contents of several filing cabinets have disgorged hundreds of manila folders across two heavy-looking metal desks, papers scattered manically across their surfaces and spilled over the edges. From behind one of the desks, you hear a familiar voice call out. It's Lucca.
"Who's there?" The muzzle of a gun pops out from the edge of the desk. "Answer me or you're dead, asshole!"
"It's me, Lucca," you say calmly. "Put the gun down. I haven't seen a single mortal or any of Ward's Anarchs left moving around in here."
A quick sigh of relief and Lucca rises up from behind a veritable mountain of papers, folders, and ruined computer equipment. "We had Ward on the run. Qui was sure that we had him!"