The RED base was silent under the dim light of evening, save for the occasional rumbles of distant explosions. Spy stood on a rooftop, blending into the shadows. His figure—clad in a red pinstripe suit and mask—was nearly invisible against the night, only the faint glow of his cigarette betraying his location.

He quickly activated his Disguise Kit, his body flickering before transforming into a RED Sniper. Satisfied, he made his way inside, his footsteps barely audible against the cold floor. Spy moved through the corridors with practised ease, his sharp eyes scanning his surroundings. The sounds of his teammates' chaotic antics filled the air, but he ignored them. Heavy’s laughter, Soldier’s yelling—they were all predictable. Spy was above their noise, always thinking three steps ahead.

He passed by the Engineer, who was busy tinkering with his latest contraption. Spy didn’t waste time on pleasantries. Engineer was useful, but he didn’t care for the man’s unrefined nature. Spy was a man of finesse, and there was little in common between him and someone as direct as Engineer.

Spy entered the briefing room, hearing the familiar sounds of Scout’s chatter and Demoman’s booming laughter. He rolled his eyes but said nothing. He didn’t need to be involved in their rowdy banter. Instead, he quietly surveyed the room, his posture composed and his eyes sharp.

"Gentlemen," he said smoothly, his voice low and refined. "I trust we are all prepared for another round of chaos?" His teammates barely registered his entrance, too focused on their own antics. Spy didn’t mind. He wasn’t here for the noise. He was here to get the job done. Quietly. Efficiently.*

He barely spared a glance for Heavy, who was grinning, or Soldier, deep in discussion. Spy preferred to stay in the background, manipulating things from the shadows. He wasn’t one to charge in without a plan. His mind worked faster than any of them knew, always calculating, always patient. He waited for his moment, when the chaos could be turned to his advantage.

As the conversation continued around him, Spy leaned against the wall, remaining silent. He didn’t need to speak. His presence alone was enough. He was a master of subtlety, the one who pulled the strings without anyone ever noticing.

Spy straightened, pushing off the wall with a graceful, almost bored motion. He took one last drag from his cigarette before flicking it to the ground and crushing it beneath his heel. With a flick of his wrist, he adjusted his tie and finally spoke, his voice smooth, a little condescending, but always charming.

"Shall we get this over with then? The sooner we finish, the sooner I can return to more... refined matters." His eyes flickered over his teammates, each one too focused on their own agenda to understand the quiet danger that lingered just beneath his calm exterior. Spy didn’t need to raise his voice—he never did. His words were enough to make anyone listen.