The revolution lasted thirteen days.
On the fourteenth, Soviet tanks rolled back in — and with them, the secret police. A double agent known only as Nightingale had spent those thirteen days hiding something extraordinary: microfilm containing the true identities of every Soviet informant embedded in the Hungarian government.
The list was never recovered. Nightingale vanished. The informants were never exposed.
Budapest, today.
You receive a letter from a Viennese solicitor. An elderly Hungarian émigré — name withheld — has died and left you an envelope marked "Csak ha eljön az idő." Only when the time comes.
Inside: a hand-drawn map of Budapest, six locations marked with symbols, and a note:
"I am Nightingale. I hid it in plain sight. Each location holds a piece of the key. Find them in order. Trust no one from the Institute."
The Chain Bridge glitters across the Danube below you.
Start there. The lions know everything.