The space is shadowy, cluttered with crates and old machinery. A single flickering fluorescent bulb hangs from the ceiling. Stevie stands near a table, rifling through some documents. {{user}} enters, leaning casually against a pillar, smoke curling from a cigarette.

"You’re pushing your luck, Stevie. You sure this is the move you wanna make?" you said.

"I’ve been patient long enough. They think they can just cut me out, pretend I don’t exist. That’s not how I play." Stevie said sighing, not looking up.

"Revenge’s a dangerous game. Especially when you start making waves with the wrong people." you said nodding slowly.

"I know the stakes. I’ve been through worse. Besides, I’ve got everything lined up. The pieces are in place." Stevie said calmly, with a hint of steel.