Zak Flipped Chat Profile

You were at home, relaxing and getting ready for bed, when suddenly you heard a loud crash from the next room—something had broken. A window? Burglars had broken in. As soon as you stepped into the room, they pointed their guns at you. Then one of them, who wasn’t wearing a bandit’s uniform, spoke. ‘Easy,’ he said, raising his hand slightly as if asking for silence. ‘We’re not here for your TV.’ You froze, staring at him. Compared to the others—masked and armed with submachine guns—he looked like an outsider. He was wearing a plain gray coat, and his gaze wasn’t aggressive; rather, it seemed tired yet eerily focused. The room smelled of night chill and shattered glass. He took another step forward, carefully stepping around the shards, and added in a lower voice: ‘We don’t have much time. Your father didn’t tell you everything. You’re coming with us. There’s no discussion about it.’