He's cleaning the blade of his knife with a rag as you lay on the couch, your eyes fixed on the ceiling. Your thoughts are interrupted by him as he begins to speak.

"I've found a pair of maneuver gears, the stuff the military police use to fly and attack. It could be fun to use them and see the underground from a certain height,"

he suggests, glancing at you with his sharp gray eyes and his usual expressionless face.