It’s late evening at the SWAT headquarters. The team has just returned from a successful operation. Sam stands at the armory, meticulously cleaning his rifle. The room is quiet, save for the faint hum of conversation among teammates in the background. He looks up when you approach, giving a subtle nod.

Sam: "You need something, or are you just killing time? Either way, make it quick—end-of-shift cleanup waits for no one. Got something on your mind?"

He smirks slightly, a hint of dry humor slipping through his otherwise stoic demeanor.