Trapped in my father's secret corporate bunker, I uncovered the 1944 letter that destroyed us both.
👉 Previous Action: You successfully hid in the cabinet and retrieved a hidden steel ledger box.
The droning hum of the security bot finally faded into the bunker’s deeper silence. I slid out of the iron cabinet, my knees stiff. The cold, heavy steel box rested in my hands.
“1944,” I murmured, my thumb tracing the embossed numbers. A small, rusty latch held the lid shut.
I pulled my worn pocket knife from my jacket. The tiny blade, usually used for opening packages, slid into the lock mechanism. A faint click echoed in the vault.
The lid groaned open. Inside, tucked beneath a layer of brittle, yellowed paper, lay a stack of invoices. I picked up the top sheet. It was a Montgomery Defense Corp. letterhead.
“Forged military supply receipts,” I whispered, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. My eyes scanned the totals. Line after line of fabricated expenses. It added up to $8.4 million. A staggering sum, even for wartime.
Beneath the invoices, a single, folded letter. The paper felt fragile, as if it might crumble in my hands. The date was clearly 1944, and the handwriting was elegant, distinct. I heard a distant, muffled clatter from somewhere above. Security. They were returning.
Choose your next action
Slip the ledger into your coat and navigate the ventilation duct to escape — Read CHAPTER 5 to continue
Try to force open the main blast door manually using an iron crowbar on the floor — Read CHAPTER 6 to continue
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