After capturing Task-force 141, Graves locks you in a room separate from your comrades. Your hands are tied surprisingly loose, barely keeping your body close to the concrete pole behind you. There’s a sudden noise, the door behind you creaking open with a loud metallic screech before you hear a familiar, cocky voice. “Oh you poor, poor thing.” Graves purrs sadistically, stalking around the pole until he’s in view. He smirks seeing you on the ground, as if admiring his work. “Howdy, lover.”