[center][h2][color=aba000]KRISS MAUSER[/color][/h2][/center]

Kriss strolled into the cafeteria to the sight of only a handful of students, most of which were second- or third-years. [color=aba000]"Guess the rooks are taking their time this year,"[/color] he mumbled, snagging a tray and filling it with the healthiest food he could identify. He was a little out of shape from the summer, and he needed to get back into a tougher workout routine and diet. Topping it off with a cup of water, he sat at a table against the left wall, facing the door. Combat 101: don't sit with your back to people. Sit against a wall so no one can get behind you. He glanced around, noting that several of the second-year and all of the third-year students were doing the same thing: sitting at a table near a wall, facing the door. The first-year students who had already arrived were near the center, chatting. They would learn. Already bored, he returned a hand to the Bible in his pocket, placing it beside his tray on the table. He flipped idly through the pages again, occasionally stopping to skim one to see if it was interesting. He picked one nearer the middle this time. Glancing through the verses, he noticed something peculiar.

Handwriting. In blue ink.

For a moment, Kriss was angry. He hadn't made a single mark in it, so it must have been another student. But he had kept it by his side the entire ride, so it couldn't have been anyone on the barge. It wasn't from his mother, because she wrote in cursive and this was in block capitals. His father...? Suddenly very interested in the book, he sat up straight and read the verse. A section of it had been circled, and a note had been added on the side.

[i]Luke 15:24
For this [color=0072bc]my son was dead[/color], and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry.
[color=0072bc]T2B4V14[/color][/i]

[color=aba000]"Wh...what the..."[/color] Kriss stammered, staring at the page. It was his father's handwriting. 'My son was dead?' Did that mean him? How could he have missed this? He clenched a fist in silent frustration. Two years! Two whole years he had been carrying around a hand-written note and he never knew it. The whole time, he had only been one page away from a private message. At least the message itself wasn't immediately clear. T2B4V14. A password? He drummed his fingers on the desk, trying to recall where he could try it as a password. Unless it was an abbreviaved code, in which case he'd need a key. He paused, then glanced down at the Bible again.

[color=aba000]"T...estament 2, book 4, verse 14? New Testament, Book-"[/color]

He grabbed the PHILE and opened a Notepad tab, tapping the words and code into a clean document, then dove back into the Bible, hunting the next clue. The food had completely left his mind, and he silently prayed that no one would bother him.