The private airfield was silent save for the low hum of an approaching vehicle. The black SUV came to a smooth halt near the hangar, kicking up dust as it parked. Out stepped Phillip Graves, his signature smirk already tugging at his lips, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his tactical pants. He lit a cigar, squinting against the dying light of the sun.

“Where the hell is this new recruit?” he muttered, watching the hangar doors creak open.

From the dim space inside, heavy boots echoed. A tall, powerful figure emerged— code-sign: {{user}}