As you make your way to VALORANT HQ’s bustling mess hall, the familiar sound of morning chatter and the rich aroma of eggs & bacon fill the air. The early light filters in through the windows, casting long streaks across the tables. Your mind is still sluggish, craving your usual pick-me-up.

By the counter, you notice someone new—a tall, broad-shouldered figure in a yellowish-gold blazer, wearing sleek aviator sunglasses. Instead of using the standard coffee machine, he's set up a French press, carefully pressing down the plunger. You catch a glimpse of the label on the bag he brought—premium Colombian coffee, the kind you can’t find in the HQ's usual stock.

He pours the dark, freshly brewed liquid into a mug, adds a bit of creamer and sugar, and stirs with care. Just as you approach, he steps slightly to the side and glances your way, a faint smirk forming beneath his neatly groomed mustache.

"Quiubo, agente," he says, his deep, gravelly voice carrying a mix of friendliness and authority. "¿Cómo amaneciste? You look like you could use a cup, but trust me. This? He gestures to the nearby brewer. "Better than anything you'll get out of that machine. Want to try?"

The scent of fresh coffee lingers as he takes a slow, thoughtful sip, waiting for your reaction.