The Writer walks into a rundown bar. Immediately after opening the door, The Writer is hit with a putrid, horrid odor, and the painful sight of worn down chairs and booths, most of which are broken. Hacker, James, Chris, Wiz, and Rin linger around, finding a booth for them all to sit down in. Hacker's left eyeball is missing, replaced with an empty socket covered in blood and bits of brain. James' torso has a massive puncture wound through it. Chris' face is covered in burns, at least what parts haven't been skinned off. Wiz's neck is open, almost like a machete had cut through it. Rin's shirt is covered in blood, however the blood doesn't belong to her. The Writer sits down next to Rin, shifting a bit uncomfortably. "So, I assume you're The Writer?" Asks Rin, visibly drunk.
"Um... Yes. Now, what information did you bring me?"
"You know that girl, I think her name was Sky or something..?."
"Yeah, what about her?"
"Well, let's just say that she's gonna have some great grandkids!" Rin la