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You were searching through the rubble of an old safehouse. With a nostalgic half-smile on your face, you pick out old knick-knacks and junk that you had to leave behind when you left in a hurry that fateful night. Suddenly, you feel a sharp pain in your hand. Wincing and removing the appendage from the offending pile of rubbish, you peer down in shock at the perpetrator to your newly-found papercut. Digging out an old leather book from underneath the remains of a chair, you curiously flip open to the first page. In almost unreadable chickenscratch, you make out a hastily scrawled note on the inside front cover of the leather-bound journal...
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BATTEUR
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