"Nike?" A red-haired man spoke to his radio but didn't receive an answer.
While his red hair was quite vibrant, he still wore a black mask over his face to hide his identity.
After not receiving an answer, he frowned, and made his way through the kitchen with the silenced gun in hand.
He arrived in the same hallway, where Nike was supposed to be patrolling, and didn't see anyone.
However, after taking a single step forward, he landed on something wet.
He turned to the ground, and saw some blood spilling from underneath a cleaning closet's door.
After opening the door, to his shock, his close friend of many years, Nike, was lying dead there.
As his eyes widened in shock, he reached out to his radio, but at that moment a silenced gunshot reverberated behind him.
A single bullet tore through his forehead, and he collapsed on top of Nike, also dead.
