Adam Jensen had done it. Recovered the bombs, saved lives of thousands of people in London, along with the delegates who were their only hope for preventing the human restoration act from passing.

His fight against the Illuminati was far from over. Jensen wasn't sure if he could even call it a beginning. Each answer sprawled more webs of questions than he could wrap his head around at a time.

But still some of the pressure had lifted off of him. For now. Jensen wearily looked out of his apartment, taking in the silent night sky of Prague as he lit a cigarette. He let out a ring of smoke. His exhaustion wasn't physical, of course. But the constant battle for life-or-death took a toll on his organic mind, as much as he tried to deny the fact.

Jensen glanced away from the window and aimlessly walked around his apartment. Perhaps now he would get around to organizing the haphazard mess he called 'home'. His kitchen island held a colorful amassment of empty cereal boxes. He took one last whiff of his cig and smothered the butt on the table before tossing it in the bin under. Jensen took the opportunity to crumple some cereal boxes and throw them in the recycling bin.

As he was tossing them, the underside of one particular box caught his eyes. "Hope you like the prize inside, spy boy!" Was scrawled on a piece of paper taped to the bottom. Many memories flashed across his eyes. Memories of a more pleasant time, and he smiled softly.

Jensen reached inside the box, fishing out the toy replica of Faridah Malik's VTOL when she was still working for Sarif. He twirled the sleek grey figure in his hand.

Jensen wondered where the brave pilot was now. The last he saw of her was two years ago, as she swooped in to rescue the scientists at Omega Ranch as the Aug incident began.

I hope Malik's doing alright.

Something twisted inside his gut. Jensen realized… he missed her. He missed their silly conversations, their deep understanding of each other as they worked side-by-side on dangerous missions. He missed her honesty.

Faridah and Pritchard were the only people in his life who were ever honest with him – as pitiful as it was to admit. The others lied, manipulated and used him. Jensen daresay these two were the only people who saw him as human. His acquaintances at TF29 and the Juggernaut collective were just that – and he didn't trust them either.

After the Aug incident, everyone he knew had been affected badly. Jensen lost a year from his life, and Pritchard struggled just to get by. Whatever remnants of their old life were all but destroyed. Malik was the one he had practically no contact with.

She must've been in Prague sometime, Jensen thought. And she also knew his address. Must've been Pritchard. Then perhaps he could reach the hacker and ask for Malik's contact…

No. Jensen's mind immediately retaliated. Everyone who comes in contact with you dies, Jensen. It's better that she stays away from you.

He led a life where he couldn't afford friends or family – such simple things people took for granted. Jensen was accustomed to being a loner, but he wasn't always one. His life experiences just shaped the path and he took it.

But for once Jensen took a slight detour. He set down the VTOL on the table where his clock-working supplies were and sat down. Tinkering with the gears absentmindedly, his mind again drifted to the subject of Malik.

It wouldn't hurt to call once.

Taking a deep breath Jensen leaned against his chair. He tapped his mastoid bone, and the infolink crackled to life. He dialed Pritchard's frequency.

Since when was he so nervous to contact the hacker?

The frequency connected after a moment.

"Jensen?" Pritchard sounded surprised.

"Hello, Francis."

"I didn't think you would contact me again. And seeing as you are in your apartment, what- did you get stuck inside an air vent doing your usual antics?"

"No. I actually need a… favor."

"Of course." Pritchard was back at his usual annoyed tone. "Why else would you ever contact me?"

"I'm touched, Francis, that you actually think of us as friends. I was under the impression that you didn't want me to talk to you ever again." Jensen retaliated, his mouth twitching upward.

"Yeah, yeah. Just cut to the chase."

"Do you by any chance, know…" His tone was hesitant, "…Malik's frequency?"

"Faridah Malik?"

"…Yes."

"Wow, seriously? Did cyborg Romeo finally move on from his Juliet, Megan Reed and started looking for other fish in the pond? Don't you think it's a little late for that?"

Jensen gritted his teeth, "Nevermind. It was a mistake to–"

"Okay, okay. Jeez. Obviously I have her frequency. I'm syncing it to yours." Pritchard said, sounding as usual melodramatically exasperated. "Somebody has their panties in a knot."

Jensen let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. There was a ping in his HUD as a new contact popped up on the infolink. "…Thanks, Francis. I just…"

"Feel free to use Malik as your emotional confidant, Jensen. Besides I have some urgent matter to attend to."

"Uh, right… Pritchard, any idea where she is now? I wouldn't want to wake her up–"

"Let it be a surprise, Jensen." Said Pritchard curtly, although Adam could pick out the amusement in his voice. "Pritchard out."

The infolink abruptly cut, bringing Adam back to the silence of his apartment. Pritchard must've been paying him back for the time he shut him off after the Palisade Bank heist.

"I should've asked how he was doing." Although Pritchard would've likely bitten back with another sarcastic reply. Both of them hung to life by a thread, and there was no telling when or where it would snap.

Jensen knew if he thought about it long enough he would end up never calling Malik. So he reactivated his infolink as quick as possible, dialing the new frequency trying his hardest not to think about the consequences.

There is a chance she might not want to talk to you, Jensen. His mind said. Shouldn't you let her move on? Isn't it selfish for you to rope her back in-

He couldn't finish his thought. The frequency connected, and he heard a familiar tomboyish voice speak up.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"Malik?" Jensen said, although he had no need for confirmation. There was a sharp intake of breath on the other side.

"Jensen?"

"Hey." He said, rather lamely. "I uh- just checking up."

"Jensen! My God-" Malik exclaimed, "-It's so good to hear from you! How are you doing? I saw the news at London…" She fired off in rapid succession, concern and happiness lining her voice. Oh, how he missed her voice.

"I'm fine, Malik." Jensen said, a smile forming on his lips. He was smiling quite a bit today, wasn't he?

"London was a massive shit-show but we pulled it off. What about you? What are you doing now?"

"Oh, me? I'm okay. Doing freelance gigs. Here and there. Didn't really find anything to hold onto after SI was gone and well, the world went crazy."

Jensen nodded soundlessly, before realizing she couldn't see him.

"I never thought I would hear your voice again," She continued, her voice slightly breaking. "For a long time I thought you were gone… and one day I was helping Pritchard with moving some cargo and I just asked, if you were… were really gone. 'Cause I wasn't ready to believe the reports. After a heck load of coercion, Pritchard finally revealed that you were alive. He never gave any details, said it was better that I didn't know. But he did tell me you were in Prague."

"And that's how I got my present," Adam said, fondly turning the toy VTOL over in his palm. "Why didn't you meet up with me?"

"I wanted to, Jensen." Malik said. "But I was here only on a brief flight, and I had to get out quickly. Had a single-day pass only. You know, these damn Aug regulations and such. And Pritchard said it was a secret apartment so I didn't want to disrupt anything accidentally."

"It's… really good to hear your voice, Faridah." Jensen said quietly. "And I'm really glad you're doing alright."

"Likewise, spy boy." He could almost see her smiling. "Only wished you'd contact me sooner."

"I wasn't sure if it would be okay to contact you, Malik. A lot of people are after me now. And they're not afraid to hurt other people if that meant they could get to me."

Malik fell silent.

"You should worry about yourself sometimes, Adam." She said after a long time.

"Someone's got to stop them, Malik."

"I know but Adam… you deserve happiness too. I mean, I don't even understand how you're holding on right now!"

"They've taken too much from me. I won't breathe easy until I've destroyed them to the core."

Malik sighed. "I respect your choice, Jensen. But promise me you'll be alright."

Jensen leaned back and closed his eyes. "I'll try my best, fly girl." He said, smiling.

"You'd better," She said. "And as a matter of fact… I have a gig to Pilsen in a few weeks."

Jensen sat up in surprise. "Will you pass by Prague?"

"I might," Faridah teased. "Would you like me to?"

"Yes. I'd love to."

Okay, Jensen was overly emotional today. His direct affirmation took both of them by surprise. But Faridah recovered quickly.

"Okay, guess we'll see each other then. Let me know a secure location to drop my bird in. She's gorgeous, by the way. A little old, but snappy." She replied with a light chuckle.

"I have no doubt." Jensen said. "But please, Faridah… be careful. It's dangerous–"

"Oh shut up. I can take pretty good care of myself. And if something happens, you just have to rescue me again like the old times."

Jensen chuckled, surrendering. "Okay. See you soon, fly girl."

"See ya soon too, spy boy. Goodnight."

That night, Jensen didn't need the dopamine rush of another cigarette. He laid in the quiet gloom of his apartment, his synthetic heart beating fast with childish excitement.

"How's the romance going?" A voice message popped up on his infolink. Apparently Pritchard couldn't keep his curiosity to himself.

"She's not my girlfriend, Pritchard." Jensen subvocalized, feigning annoyance. The person on the other end snorted, and the line went dead.

A soft smile on his face remained present as he blissfully drifted off to sleep.