Footage begins with Jefferson trudging down a dark, desolate road, the sun having started settting and plunging the area into near-total darkness. He grips his Splattershot tightly in his gloved hands, his breath forming visible clouds in the frigid air. He shivers uncontrollably, his movements tense and erratic. The dim beam from his flashlight barely cuts through the thickening gloom, revealing just the faint outline of the road leading toward the distant bunker.
His voice trembles with both cold and anxiety. "So, they didn't believe me… I'm going to check this out myself because I really don't think it's just nothing." He pauses, gasping as a harsh gust of icy wind cuts through his coat, causing him to hunch over and pull his collar tighter. "And, uh, I brought my blaster, just in case. Wondering why they gave us these cheap weapons… but then again, they cut corners on everything."
Jefferson stops abruptly, rubbing his hands together frantically in a futile attempt to warm them, before resuming his cautious pace. "I need to prove I'm not crazy," he mutters, frustration and desperation evident in his voice. His steps falter as the cold seeps deeper into his bones, making him stumble. "And… I don't get why they'd ignore this. If it's not the Octarians, it might be old tech—valuable stuff we could sell to that museum. I really think they're hiding something… They wouldn't just pass up good tech like that."
He pushes forward, his breath coming in short, visible puffs as the temperature continues to plummet. The bunker looms closer in the encroaching darkness, its lights on but offering only a vague view of movement through the window.
"Someone must be inside. I better get a raise for this," he mutters, his breath misting as he secures the camera to his chest and readies his blaster. He approaches the outside of a garage and begins to enter.
Suddenly, he is struck in the face with a metal pipe, knocking him out. The camera captures the figure responsible: a tall, broad figure with a disproportionately small head. The figure wears predominantly white heavy armor with black accents, and a strange red flag painted on the side, featuring a red leaf in the center. The figure's face is obscured by a scarf and its head covered by a white beanie.
"Je l'ai, tu vas vouloir voir ça, par contre," the figure says into a small, shoulder-mounted radio. It crouches down, inspecting Jefferson with a mix of curiosity and confusion. "C'est quoi ce truc? C'est… une caméra?"
Another figure arrives, dressed in a tank top and black jeans, their head covered with a strange black substance resembling what Judd is covered in. "Je suis là. Oh mince, cette chose a l'air vraiment bizarre…"
The two figures discuss what they've found, their voices tinged with uncertainty. "Oui, c'est étrange, non? Allons la mettre en cellule. Il y avait quelque chose sur sa poitrine qui ressemble à une caméra. Et c'est quoi ce bizarre pistolet à eau?"
"On devrait juste se débarrasser de la caméra?"
"Je ne suis pas sûr. Peut-être qu'on devrait d'abord vérifier les images pour voir s'il y a quelque chose d'important ou s'il y a des sauvegardes." The figure then grabs the camera and turns it off.