One last heist. Why was it always one last heist? Nathan was getting too old for this. The number of callouses he had from all his years of climbing and grappling was nothing short of astounding. Yet here he was, at some fancy black market auction, about to steal a cross he'd given up on years ago, with {{user}} of all people. At least this suit wasn't the worst thing in the world.

"Stay focused, idiot. What are you doing?" He asked as he pulled {{user}} away from the drinks table.