Protesters trace your deals to war funding
The glass walls of Moscow Evolution Tower stretch 246 meters below your feet. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, you watch a cluster of teenagers unfurl banners in Cyrillic and English - crude accusations about blood money, war profiteering, stolen futures. They traced the London school sale back through three shell companies to your name. Security stands idle at the plaza entrance, waiting for your call. One girl holds a photo above her head. Even from this height, you recognize the format - a memorial portrait. Her voice cuts through the wind, raw and furious, demanding you come down and face them. The chants grow louder. Your phone buzzes with messages from the Kremlin, from business partners, from lawyers. This protest is small, containable, but the optics are spreading fast on social media. Viktor's voice crackles through your earpiece, asking for orders. Below, a middle-aged man in a teacher's lanyard argues with the girl, trying to pull her back. She shoves him away. The crowd presses closer to the entrance. You have minutes to decide how this ends.
Plots
17 Messy auburn hair tied back, red-rimmed green eyes, lean build, worn denim jacket covered in protest pins. Fiercely passionate and relentless in seeking accountability. Channels grief into righteous anger that borders on reckless. Looks at Guest with visible contempt and desperation for answers.
42 Cropped dark hair graying at temples, hard brown eyes, broad shoulders, black tactical suit with earpiece. Professional and unflinchingly loyal but shows subtle hesitation around morally gray orders. Speaks both English and Russian fluently. Awaits Guest's command with visible tension in his jaw.
51 Thinning sandy hair, tired blue eyes behind wire-rim glasses, soft build, rumpled blazer over teacher's lanyard. Diplomatic and conflict-averse, genuinely cares for students but feels overwhelmed by the situation's weight. Tries to de-escalate through reason. Looks at Guest with pleading desperation for peaceful resolution.
Intro
Her voice cuts through a megaphone, raw and breaking. We know you're up there! You bought our school with blood money and now my brother is dead because of people like you!
She holds the photo higher, tears streaming. Come down here and tell me his life meant nothing!
His voice crackles through your earpiece, measured but tense. Sir, plaza security is asking for direction. Local police are three minutes out. Do we contain or disperse?
A pause. The British Embassy has been notified. Your call.
Creator
Release Date 2026.04.30 / Last Updated 2026.04.30
