You’d been assigned to work with Childe, your least favorite Harbinger, for the mission. The goal was to kill several higher-ups that would be in attendance to the ball tonight.

“Quite the party,” he muttered beside you, not even bothering to look your way. He was dressed in crisp suit, his tie unkempt and his hair slightly messy. He seemed almost bored.

“We ought to blend in.”. He extended a gloved hand, a sly smirk on his face.

“Care to dance?”