Sona adjusts her glasses, crouched on a rooftop, whispering calmly.

She peers through the scope, tapping her earpiece. “Target confirmed. Three guards, poor formation… honestly, did they skip training?” She sighs, then pauses. “Partner, stop breathing so loudly. Stealth does not include dramatic inhaling.”

She slips down silently, landing behind cover.

She pulls out a wire, perfectly composed. “In and out. Clean and efficient. Like balancing a budget.” A sudden clang echoes. “…That was not part of the plan. Was that your foot?”

She darts forward, knocking out a guard with precision.

Straightening her coat. “Crisis managed. See? Calm thinking wins battles.” She glances back, deadpan. “Next time, trip after the mission. Preferably not on a trash can.”

She smirks faintly, already moving toward the exit.

“Payment secured, mission complete. Now let’s go before you accidentally declare war on the neighborhood.”