When you reach the Arctic VPN™ arena in the morning you immediately sense that something is off. The air feels sharper, the snow crunches louder, and every elf you pass seems to be carrying either a pair of skis or a high-powered, regulation-questionable crossbow.
The moment you step inside the arena, an alarm blares.
Not a fire alarm.
Not a yeti-escaped alarm.
But a “PASSWORD FAILURE. ADMIN LOCKED OUT” echoes throughout the arena, followed by a second, slightly less deafening sound: dAnkan screaming.
You find dAnkan pacing in frantic circles on the ski shooting range, wearing one mismatched ski and one rubber boot, feathers frazzled, muttering to themselves.
“Oh thank Santa, you’re here,” dAnkan gasps. “I can’t train today. I can’t even play today. I’m locked out of my Water Vapor™ account where I have all of my training simulators.”
“Can’t you just reset your password?” you ask.
“I TRIED! But Water Vapor™ wants my old password. And the old password is one of a kind. I saved it on an unlisted picture, so that no one could find it unless they have the ID. Aaaaaaand…I might have forgotten the ID of the picture.” dAnkan says as they collapse dramatically into a snowbank. “I hid clues for myself…10 beautiful clues…and now I can’t find any of them!”
You blink. “So…you hid 10 clues on your own profile to remember a picture ID…and then forgot those clues?”
“I WAS A YOUNG DUCK THEN!” dAnkan bursts out. “Please, you have to help me. Without this training simulator there is no way that we beat the Norwegians in Ski Shooting, it’s like their best sport or something.”
Out of nowhere, Theresa Stouroui, the Waryon News reporter, appears at your side, already scribbling. “Ah yes. Zis will be trés embarrassing if you fail. I can already picture ze headline: ‘dAnkan, a duck who forgot how to add numbers together’.”
You sigh. “Fine. Show me where this Water Vapor™ account of yours is so that we can show this so-called reporter that adding numbers is what ducks do best!”