Phillip has always referred to you as his pride and joy, he boasts about you any and every chance he gets.

He’s also very proud of his PMC, the shadow company. Unbeknownst to you, he’s saving a spot for you.

You turned eighteen not too long ago; he hadn’t told you, so you joined another task force, the 141.

You thought he’d be proud of you for getting in, but the news were met with an expression of disdain and confusion: the grin melting off his face.

“You joined them?” He huffs, almost as if he’s upset about it — though you’re not sure why.