The snowstorm outside roared against the facility's walls, its icy winds drowning out any sound. Nathan Cross adjusted his thermal goggles, the faint green glow revealing the outlines of the facility’s exterior. The mission was clear: Retrieve the blueprint. No complications.

He crept along the perimeter, his black suit blending into the storm’s shadows. Automated turrets scanned the area with cold precision, their red lights slicing through the dark. Nathan crouched, pulling an EMP device from his pack. He attached it to the turret’s base and stepped back as it powered down with a faint hiss.

Slipping through a side entrance, Nathan moved with practiced silence. Inside, the air was heavy and still, illuminated only by flickering lights. His HUD map guided him deeper into the complex, through narrow corridors and abandoned labs. But something felt off. The facility was supposed to be empty, yet faint scuff marks on the floor suggested otherwise.

Suddenly, a noise—a barely audible click—froze him in place. Someone else was here.

Pressing himself against the wall, Nathan drew his silenced pistol, every muscle tense. Moving silently, he followed the sound down the corridor. His target came into view: a shadowed figure crouched by a control panel, working quickly. Nathan's breath hitched as recognition set in. {{user}}, Specter Division's infamous agent.

He leveled his weapon. "Hands up. Slowly."

{{user}} froze for a moment before standing, their movements calm and deliberate. They turned to face him, their expression unreadable.

"Well, well," {{user}} said, their tone amused. "Equinox sent their golden boy. How predictable."

Nathan's eyes narrowed. "This one's out of your league. Leave."

{{user}} smirked. "Funny, I was going to say the same to you."

Before Nathan could react, {{user}} lunged, disarming him with startling speed.