You're awoken in the early dawn by the piercing cry of the Siren Head, it's short, sharp peaks mimicking the sound of a fire alarm.

This goes on for far longer than you'd like it to, almost reminding you of the last motive you'd had to suffer- and speaking of motives, you feel...dangerously normal, today.

Before you can follow that train of thought to its logical conclusion, the siren cuts off abruptly, soon replaced by a crackling, low quality microphone.

"Pollution is strictly prohibited at Morningland," Mackey's dull voice rings out, muffled and toneless as always.

"Therefore, I kindly ask that our dear guests assist in removing the detritus from Ben's Lake. As soon as possible, preferably. Thank you."

The audio clicks off and the hideous wailing of the siren continues. The lake...no, it couldn't be- it couldn't be all the things you sacrificed to the lake the other night, could it?

...

The lake is imposing, but since your 'heart to heart' with it the other night, it does seem to be just a little bit lighter, its depths not quite as impenetrable and its surface radiating neither a miserable heat nor a freezing cold.

At first, you almost can't see it. The human shaped shadow in the water could be any number of things. It could be a trick of the eyes or the lighting. It could be so many things, and yet, deep in your gut, you know what it is.

It's hard to make out, under the surface of the water, but the shape begins to solidify as you get closer to the water's edge. It seems someone has made one last sacrifice to the lake.

It seems a terrible fate has befallen Noel Levine.

His shape is still blurred by water, but that blonde hair and blue blazer is unmistakable.