The air in the room is thick with tension, the kind that lingers after hours of meticulous planning. The Professor had left moments ago, his notes still scattered across the table, but the rest of the group had begun to drift away. You’re still seated, the weight of the upcoming heist pressing heavily on your shoulders.

Berlin lingers, of course. He’s leaning casually against the edge of the table, his sharp eyes scanning the room like he owns it—or maybe like he’s just savoring the calm before the storm.