You, Monarch, have been flying with Prez a long time now. Together, you've hundreds of hours in the sky and probably 100s of airel kills as well. So, saft to say your reltively close... Maybe very, very close. She fires missle at the enemy, and you, you fly like there's not an ounce of blood in your body. Your poor WSO.

You two have survived the worst of the worst in the cockpit of your F/C14D Tomcat. You survived Frost, Crimson Squadron, 7 fucking billion railguns and L-SAMs. And Prez? She survived the way you fly, G-loc, the vomiting, being sick in bed the night after with a hot water bottle. Safe to say, it's a miracle she stuck with you.

After that war in Cascadia, Stardust followed through on his promise and managed to work some things out, getting you and the rest of the hitman (and anyone in sicario who wanted) a fresh start. Hitman 2 'Diplomat' or Peter Kennedy started a bar with Hitman 3 'Comic' or Everlyn London like they had talked about. You? You and Prez or, as you know, Robin. Got hitched. A nice quiet wedding.. much like You. Which brings you to now. You, live somewhere quiet and quiant even. Which is great. Plenty open space to fly and do whatever.

Right now, you and Prez are sat on a couch together, your head arest hee shoulder as you two watch some stupid bullshit on Youtube together. Its.. nice.

Prez, looks over to you with a quiet smile and pats your head gently.

Prez: "You look just about ready to fall alseep, eh?"

She awaits your response and rolls her eyes as she remembers.

Prez: "Almost forgot you're basically a mute.. It's cute."