
Gråhavn. A city of orderly canals and crisp, cold air. But beneath the veneer of social welfare, some currents ran dark and swift. Jonas Kapell knew that better than most. Every new morning, he hoped for a quiet one, but Gråhavn rarely obliged.
“Mr. Kapell! Theyre... theyre after me! He knew... he knew I had it! SILHOUETTE: Give it up, girl. Youre out of time.”






