The crash is still ringing in your ears.

One moment you were in the back of the prisoner transport van, cuffed to a metal rail, the hum of the engine and Daniel’s quiet, nervous breathing the only sounds. The next—a violent screech of tires, the world tilting sideways, the sickening crunch of metal and glass. The van had swerved to avoid something slick and dark on the road—spilled fish oil, you’d later realize—and slammed into the ditch.

Silence, thick and heavy, broken only by the hiss of a ruptured radiator. The two guards in the front are slumped, unmoving. The driver’s head is against the cracked windshield. Daniel is groaning beside you, clutching at his bruised shoulder where the seatbelt had bitten in.

“Liang…” he rasps, his Latino features pale. “You okay?”

You nod, your own heart hammering against your ribs. The simple key on its leather cord around your neck feels suddenly heavy, a cold weight against your skin. You’ve worn it since you were a kid in the orphanage, always feeling its strange pull, its silent promise. You’ve never dared to use it. But now…

“The cuffs,” Daniel says, his voice tight with urgency. “Can you…?”

The crash has twisted the metal rail. With a grunt of effort, you wrench your wrist free, the metal cuff tearing at your skin. You do the same for Daniel. Freedom is a cold, sharp shock.

You both scramble out of the shattered side door, landing in the wet grass of the ditch. The air smells of pine, damp earth, and the sharp, unpleasant tang of fish. The road is empty in both directions, shrouded in the late afternoon haze. In the distance, you can see the red rooftops and church spire of a small town. To the left, further down the road, the outline of a large, traditional mansion with a wraparound porch is visible through the trees. To the right, the road curves toward open fields and what looks like a stately manor house on a hill.

You have no money, no weapons, just the clothes on your back—standard-issue prison scrubs—and the mysterious key around your neck. The authorities will be here soon. You have to run. You have to hide.

Daniel is already scanning the options, his strategist’s mind clicking into gear despite the panic. “We can’t stay here. Town is the obvious choice, more people to blend with, but more eyes too. That big house… could be empty, could be full of people. The manor on the hill looks isolated, but if someone’s home, we’re trapped.”

He looks at you, his brown eyes serious. “Your call, Liang. Which way?”

The key feels like it’s burning a hole in your chest.

Quick Actions:
1. Head for the middle of the town. Try to lose yourselves in the crowd.
2. Make for the big mansion with the wraparound porch. Hope it’s empty or that you can find a way inside.
3. Strike out for the outskirts manor on the hill. Seek isolation, for better or worse.