David Martinez jerked up from the coach the moment Noble 6's knife lodged itself on a Tyger claw's forehead.

The XBD he had received from the ripperdoc was scenes of a Baba Yaga killing gangoons stringed together.
David was left huffing as he removed the braindance from his head.

[S-so, how'd you like that? Pretty- really cool, right?]

[Doc-Doc! It's the best!]

Most XBD was long sessions of torture porn, pain elongated and screams intensified.
This XBD went the opposite direction: quick, precise, rapid.

Carnage was cleanly done- just a few bullets knives to sweep through the crowd. Only that the audience of the Braindance was the crowd.

Like a sickle through the fields.

David already heard about the Baba Yagas- 6 suits of armour that only showed themselves when they weren't on a gig.
What he had gotten was the only proper footage of one at work. And they were merciless. Efficient.

David still felt his heart pumping blood through his veins. He was on an adrenaline rush.

He loved every moment of it.

Was there more?
Probably not- the Ripperdoc told him that this was the first time a Baba Yaga was caught on a brain dance.
It was already selling like cake, and if David sold this to he could get some of the profit.

David was already motivated. This was easy eddies.
He pondered, however, as he started to pack his bag and fill it with copies of the XBD.

What were the Baba Yagas doing right now?

Agent Locust picked up his ringing phone.

"Who is this?"

He gestured to Agent Ram, silently telling him to get ready to intercept the call in case it was an unsavoury individual.

Agent Ram plugged in the cord from the phone into his laptop, finger hovering over the keyboard.

[Just a fixer needing certain individuals to get a job done. Specifically, those that go bump in the night and leave even the toughest men scared of meeting.]

Agent Locust held his finger up. Then returned to the conversation.

"I need a name."

"Of course, it will be Mr Hands. I've heard you guys were careful. I like that in a merc. Already a reputation of making people disappear without leaving traces. Not unless the client wanted carnage."

"What's the job."

Agent Locust wasted no time - the fixer called because he had a job for the Boogeymen.
Agent Locust heard Mr Hands laugh on the other side of the call.

[Straight to business- why couldn't more Mercs be like you, Baba Yaga? I have two gigs for your team. One of the gig is the assassination of Dexter Deshawn. You would have heard about him: A fixer that decided to wander into Pacifica to haul something big, but has recently ended up causing a huge stir in my territory. Now I have both Barghest and Voodoo boys causing chaos when I needed order. This would require the majority of you to be on it. The other gig is short and simple - only one merc on the job will do. A simple search and rescue mission of two NCPD officers from a Barghest-infested building. I'll be sending the details for both your way. Keep in mind that I need both of these gigs done by tonight. They are very urgent.]

Agent Locust was silent for a few moments, before turning to the rest of the team.

"... We'll get to it when we receive the details."

[Excellent, I'll be waiting for your results. And to whichever Boogeyman you send for the second job, I'll have to give them a specific location to travel to in order to reach the required location.]

Agent Locust soon saw the files sent to his phone, which Ram opened on his laptop.
Agent Locust walked over to Ram to read it, before standing straight up.

"Ram, Killshot, Leon: You guys are going with me. Jim and Noble 6, I sending you guys to a different location."

"Understood, sir."

"Understood."

"Ram will transfer you two the location. The 4 of us will leave first. Contact us when you guys are finished with your side of the gig."

Jim picked up his customised revolver, nodding at his leader.
The rest of the team got ready to move. Rifles loaded, knives sharpened, knuckles cracked.
Noble 6 stood by the doorway, waiting for Jim to get ready so the two could disappear into the darkness of the night.

Dexter Deshawn puffed cigars after cigars as his bodyguard stood next to the door, shotgun ready in his hand.

Yeah, sure. He admitted he fucked up. Yeah, he fucked up! He didn't realise the heist he planned would ruin half of Pacifica (and piss off Kurt Hansen). But it did, and he had to take that fact in.
He had already dealt with loose ends - his bodyguard had shot the mercs that decided to come back splattered in blood ready to argue about the difficulty of the gig and the increased prices. Their corpses were ditched somewhere in the trash heaps in Dogtown. No one would look for them anyway.

Dexter Deshawn saw the setting sun. Sky dyed orange like the days of 2020s, when the red war caused the air to be filled with red for decades.
He had managed to pull a ticket for a plane - used half of his savings to do so. He would have to leave Night City for a good long while. He had to leave, as soon as possible. He had no choice in that matter, lest he wanted to go around the corner and get a bullet in his fat skull by a merc hired by a newly made enemy of his.

"Where the fuck did that lard ass go!"

A group of Barghest soldiers were running around the streets, angrily shouting at each other to find Dexter Deshawn.
The fat fixer watched the scene through the gaps in his barricaded windows.
By night the patrol would've thinned out. They would think that he escaped Pacifica by then.
That's when he can leave for the airport.

The sun was already setting, and the darkening of the sky calmed him down a bit.
He didn't need to wait too long, his time was coming.

But a sudden flash of fear went through his mind as he saw the shadows of the buildings drawing longer.

What if one of his enemies hired the Baba Yagas? What if they were starting to move?
He remembered how nearly every one of their gigs were done at night. Especially when it rained.

There was even a saying on the street now: Every time the clock hit 12:00, the boogeymen would drag someone into the shadows.

Dexter Deshawn felt his skin growing wet, and wiped off the sweat with his gold-plated chrome.

He had eddies.
He had lots of them.

Surely they'd be reasonable, right?
500 million to just pretend they didn't see a fat bastard run to the airport.
It's not a bad deal, is it?

… Is it?

Stella Ramoss quietly waited in her car. She was taking deep breaths to calm her nerves.
Sasha Yakovleva, her dear sister, had recently come back from a gig.
In which half the bloody Tyger Claws were after her. Sasha probably didn't know how much her heart sank when she heard the news thanks to the NCPD near the scene. Angrily demanded an answer when Stella met Sasha again. How they got into that mess, and how they managed to get out.

Muamar had sent a Boogeyman for her back up. Stella didn't believe it at first, but then the XBDs started popping up on the street. Naturally, her fiance Bill bought one to check it out.

Holy shit. Stella still remembered the aftermath. She was sent into the crime scene for investigation, after all. Now she knew how there was such a widespread dispersion of corpses on the streets of Kabuki.

Many of the NCPD have dropped the investigation - those that remained either didn't believe that there was any reason the Baba Yagas would target them, or they had a more direct problem breathing down their neck.

The rest in the middle didn't want to take the chance of letting the Boogeymen know who they were. It was way above their pay grade.

Stella watched the barricaded building on the opposite side of the road.
Currently, her fiance Bill had decided get convinced by his friend Charles into trying some wacky scheme.
All she knew was that Bill had just called saying that 'It's bad.' She deduced that Dodger had taken Bill and Charles hostage, and requested the gig to Mr Hands as soon as her fiance gave her the call.

The Fixer called her back 5 minutes ago, telling her that they found a Merc willing to take the gig, and will come to her location.

Stella heard a sharp tap on her car window.

"Stella Ramoss?"

Stella flinched, and turned to look at the merc.

Well holy shit, Stella thought to herself as she heard herself gulp.
She remembers how the Baba Yaga looked like in those brain dances.

And they were standing right outside her window.

"I'm here for the gig."

Stella had initially planned to let whoever decided to take the job into her car and explain there.
But there was no way to fit that size in such a small vehicle.
All she could manage to do was roll down the windows and quickly hand over a key card.

"Yeah, need your help. We can't be seen here, so I'll just talk quick - my fiance Bill and his buddy Charlie, they're trapped in that building across the street, until Dodger took over. It used to be an old precinct - you can go in using this access card."

Noble 6 gently took the key card with his large fingers, holding it in his hand, and looking to Stella.

"I'll be finished soon."

Stella nodded as she pulled the lever of her car and started to enter the road.
She looked at the back mirror to see that Noble 6 was already nowhere in sight.

… Damn, Stella thought. Bill's going to shit his pants when he sees the merc.

Every morning, Genjiro woke up from his room and put on his Uniform. Grey high collared suit that didn't look too bad on someone like him.
UNSC was… a very peculiar place to him, to say the least.

The last and only other association he had pledged loyalty to expected him to work 5 to 1. Sure, they gave more money per month than an average Night City Citizen could get their hands on in 2 years, but with so little time given Genjiro rarely had any moments to spend that for his own indulgence.

UNSC let him sleep in a little, so long as he could help them out in establishing themselves in the market.
Good food made from natural vegetables, a clean and safe environment.

And most of all, colleagues that didn't even think about stabbing him in the back. Half the stress he had to endure in Arasaka was fellow executives or subordinates just a moment away from blackmailing him, or selling precious info to a rival. Sometimes even other Megacorps like Militech.

UNSC was… UNSC was different.

Genjiro took a breath of fresh air in and opened the door.

"Hey, Genjiro! You working today?"

"I'm afraid so, Mister Donut."

"Oh, that's cool. If you got time after, me and the some of the crews are going to try set fireworks in the yard. Wanna watch?"

Genjiro smiled at the walking suit of pink armour.
Would anyone from Arasaka ever ask something as stupid like this? Genjiro thought not. Not unless it was some code word, or an attempt to lure Genjiro into a trap.
But enough weeks had passed for Genjiro to realise that no, these… Spartans, they were called- a walking, talking, human weapons of mass destruction equal if not more to the likes of Adam Smasher- were really that keen on simply having fun with the most trivial activities.

More so together.

"That would certainly sound fun, Mister Donut."

Spartan Donut waved his hands.

"Oooh… no need to put Mister there, Genjiro! It's just Donut! Anyways, have fun with work - Oh! The cooks told me that today's menu is rice with fried potato mashes and shredded cabbage salad. A Japanese dish, they said? You should totally try it out."

Genjiro laughed.
Ah, Spartan Donut means Koroke.

Due to limitations on meat, it was strictly vegetarian until their outside sources managed to procure Cows and Pig DNA.

Genjiro could already think of all the possible dishes that'd be added to the menu once meat was available.
He couldn't wait, all those thoughts had made his stomach growl.

"Thank you very deeply for the information… er… Mist… Donut."

Genjiro bowed as Donut awkwardly imitated his gesture. With all they had done for them, it was hard for Genjiro to not include any sort of english honorifics on them.
Even as a beggar, Genjiro's honour and dignity was the one thing he did not give up or sell.
Which meant trying to talk like he was equal footing with someone like Donut felt so… disrespectful.

Genjiro pondered about that further as he walked to the cafeteria, making sure to greet each and every soldiers and workers within the central base.
He had heard the stories as he lived here, worked here.

Spartans, more than just super-soldiers- they were symbol of hope and strength. The very bastion that opposed the invading forces.
They were warriors.

If Japan and Arasaka knew of their existence and their feat, they would consider the Spartans and ODST Shoguns and Samurais.

At least Genjiro considered them so. Benevolent too, considering how conversant they were to someone like him. They were always willing to answer his questions without mocking or insulting him. Inform him of anything new going on.

Some even showed him the main factory… 'The Cell-Khyl Vat', named after the two chief engineers who created them.

To see a cloud of nanomachine turn scrap into immaculate plates of uncannily serene materials that shined like silver and as durable as titanium.

It was a beautiful sight for Genjiro. Almost analogous to their philosphy on members of the UNSC, where everyone- no matter where they came from- can become something extraordinary. Even if they were considered trash by the rest of the Megacorps and was thrown to the streets.

No talent wasted, no man left behind.

Genjiro ordered the menu Spartan Donut had suggested.
He could already smell the flavours of Koroke from the occupied tables.

He still couldn't believe it sometimes. Fresh, natural ingredients, grown from clean soil and nurtured with care.
Those would be considered food of the highest quality, eaten only by those of the highest social order like the Arasaka clan or President Rosalind Myers.
And they were given to low-ranking workers like him! For free!
The quality they were in, the flavour they had created that exceeded perfection!
Those would sell for millions a gram, and they were just given like it was normal!

"Hey, Genjiro! Over here!"

Genjiro heard Moris's voice over a table, and saw his saviour sitting with fellow soldiers and colleagues.

Genjiro did not hesitate in carrying his plate over to the table.
His friends immediately made space for him, smiling as he sat down.

"How's the place working out for you, buddy?" Moris asked as he smiled.

"Like heaven, Moris. I can never stop thanking you for saving me from that trash heap."

Moris laughed as he flicked his wrist.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'm just returning the favours to everyone."

Returning favours.
Returning kindness that was given to them.

Those were concepts long forgotten on the roads of Night City, perhaps in majority of Earth too.

It felt foreign at first to Genjiro, but as time went on it felt natural. That's when Genjiro realised that such concept was something that was always meant to be.

Soon enough, Moris and Genjiro wasn't the only failures of Night City UNSC had taken under their wings.
Like returning kindness that was given, Moris helped the UNSC gather the homeless and lost from the trash heaps, or anywhere close. Genjiro then helped the UNSC have them washed, cleaned, fed, et cetera.

Soon enough those Citizens were given jobs and roles that befitted their talent and passion.
Spreading out like flowers in rich soil.

Some of the Citizens used to be farmers until Biotechnica robbed them of their land, job, and home. They were now taking care of the crops grown within the greenhouses.
Others used to be mechanics. They now helped build engines and cars, learning new technology along the way.

Those that used to be part of Security, like Moris, were trained as soldiers. Returning to the old roots made them grow muscles bigger than before.

Rarely anyone here used chromes- at most they had neural interfaces installed. Sleek and nearly unrecognisable like the ones used in Night City, they however could not be hacked. Being on a completely different network that Earth had no way of recognising or accessing was one reason, just the shear complexity and several redundancies within the interface acted as natural ICEs.

Everything was new to the recruited civilians. Even if it felt like some were the same, those some were definitely better than before.

All of them. All of them had a second chance at life, thanks to the people that came down from the sky.
Yes, Genjiro thought. This is how you earn undying loyalty from people.

"And I will put Kool aids in all the water fountains! And we won't have to wear school uniforms, anymore! And Principle Cell will allow double… Recess! recess…! recess…!"

Some of the Spartans here were bit grounded to Earth, while others were a bit… chaotic and creative in their perspective of the world.

Spartan Caboose was very much the latter.

"Caboose, we're not running for Class president! We're trying to choose the fire team leader!" Spartan Simmons exasperatingly responded to Spartan Caboose's recent wild claim.

Contrary to Simmons, however, the newly recruited UNSC officials from Earth was interpreting Caboose's speech differently.

"No, don't you see sir? Spartan Caboose is trying to tell us that when Reds and Blues becomes a Megacorp in Night City, there won't be school uniforms anymore because everyone will be free to take lessons from UNSC-lead educations. They won't be differentiated by social status money, or age like Arasaka Academy. Everyone will have equal chance and equal opportunity to chase their dreams instead of risking their lives acting as criminals! Spartan Caboose is trying to tell us that President Cell will send us out back into the real world where we won't have to aim our gun at every corner to make sure we live another day!"

Private Tai, Who used to work under Kang Tao before she was promptly fired for a minor mismanagement done by her subordinate, looked up at the Blue Spartan standing on a table with awe.

"My god… he has such way with words."

Spartan Simmon's helmet slowly turned to Private Tai.

"… Is this girl for real?"

"But wait, what about Kool aids in the water fountain?"

"Why that would be the purification of water! By making sure to filter out all those nasty gunks out, it would actually taste like the water we have here, so that kids and elderly folks won't have to get sick or die from being forced to drink such water, like those in Santo Domingo!"

"And I'll order Pizza for everyone! Every toppings you want!"

"Wow, sir… Providing food for everyone to make sure they don't starve…"

Hoo rah!
The soldiers and works surrounding Spartan Caboose shouted.

Genjiro and Moris watched all this from the other side of the room.
Only a select few were annoyed by Spartan Caboose's antic. Those were being Spartans close to Caboose.

And even then, no one could stay hating on Spartan Caboose.
Such a kind and innocent soul.

Genjiro had also noticed that despite his rambling resembling those of mad men, it did hold wisdom.

And to be fair, Genjiro didn't think Tai was wrong. UNSC was all about equal opportunities and chances. It showed in the armours of their soldiers too. Even those like Private Tai and Private Moris had energy shields.

Which also meant they were near unstoppable against Raiders. Hell, Genjiro was sure that even Araska would have a hard time fighting the UNSC army.

Genjiro had already finished his meal, but stayed a while to chat wtih Moris and the rest of the people in the cafeteria before they had to head off for work.

Time wasn't strict in UNSC. Only when it was emergencies did they need to stick to every second.

"So the road block is market entrance, huh?"

Genjiro heard Spartan Cell's voice as he walked through the hallway.

It was like hearing Saburo Arasaka's voice while one was working in the central office of Arasaka.
A gift, for sure.

"Our vehicles have finished testing and improvement, sir. Ready for mass-production. We just need to find a platform to advertise our product and our company name."

"Which is where the problem lies…"

Genjiro turned around, he could feel his mouth getting slightly dry.
He… he thought he knew a solution to this problem.

No, he was sure he had a solution.

Did he dare intervene in President Cell's business like so?
If it was Arasaka he was sure to get punished for this.

But with all the gifts he had been given by the CEO of Reds and Blues, he had to return the favour somehow.

"I… President Cell…" Genjiro felt his voice go weak but he pushed through.

Both Spartan Cell and the Spartan next to him turned to look at Genjiro. Genjiro first swallowed the saliva forming in his mouth to moisten his throat.
Quite honestly, if Spartan Cell got angry here and now, and ordered Genjiro to commit harakiri, Genjiro would follow through without complaint.

Of course, Genjiro knew from the back of his mind that President Cell wouldn't be the type of person to order something like that.

"I… I am terribly sorry for eavesdropping like this, sir. Please forgive me for such disrespect but… I… I may have a solution to that problem."

Spartan Cell tilted his head. 4 spectral nodes, shining like eyes, focused on Genjiro. "Oh, really? Shoot."

Genjiro nodded. "I have contacts. 'Had', might be the better word. But I know people- companies, those in charge of markets and malls in the Corporate Center of Night City. I used to talk with them and make deals when I was an executive in Arasaka. To… distribute products Arasaka was willing to sell in Night City. I still remember their number because they called me so many times. I can contact them again, get some of the first few cars we are willing to sell. They might scoff at the deal at first. They know I was removed from Arasaka. But the product we show them might make them consider-"

Spartan Cell quietly held his open palm up, which made Genjiro immediately stop talking and look to the floor.

That's when he heard Spartan Cell talk.

"Genjiro will be risking his life talking to people like that. I want people guarding him as he gets in contact. Preferably a fireteam of ODST at the minimum. Anything Genjiro needs to make a deal in our favour, provide it to him."

Genjiro felt his eyes widen.

"Genjiro?"

"P-President Cell! Sir!"

Genjiro bowed his head, hips at a 75 degrees angle.

"If you can manage to establish a place for us in the market as you suggested, I'll be putting you in charge of our office within Night City. Are you okay with that?"

Genjiro blinked. That offer was… was…
… wow…

"That is… that is a lot, President Cell. Before anything, I will make sure to accomplish this goal."

"You heard the man. He's our hope. Help him with whatever he needs."

Cell patted Genjiro's back.

"Good luck."

When Genjiro heard the CEO's footstep echo behind him, he simply straightened back up and looked back to Cell with awe.

He had to succeed.
This was the best way he can repay all the kindness UNSC had showed him.

The silver bullet that will lead this Organisation to greatness on Earth.

Like hell he was going to let this fail.

For UNSC, he quietly muttered.

For the one coroporation that actually acted like they gave a damn about the people working for it.

Dexter Deshawn's bodyguard was by the doorway, quietly looking at the security cameras with his interface.
Everything was all… clear, he thought.
Albeit it was quiet hard to see everything when it was so dark.
Night time, he thought.
He saw the fixer that hired him look all the more nervous as he watched the clock.

That's when a camera showed a slight movement in the shadows.
Something was coming. Something quiet, something subtle.

The bodyguard quickly grabbed the pistol on the table, which startled Dexter Deshawn.

"What, what is it?" The fat fixer urgently asked.

However the Bodyguard couldn't answer.
Because just then, he saw a single flash outside the window, on the opposite building to them.

It was flash from the moonlight being reflected by something.

The bodyguard realised too late that it was a scope reflecting the moonlight, when a bullet whizzed into the opening of the barricaded window and opened a hole right between the bodyguard's eyes.

Dexter Deshawn watched as the shades on the Bodyguard split into half and fell to the floor, blood splattering the wall.

He screamed in panic. Quickly grabbing his Plan B and stuck to the wall, away from the windows.

That was when he heard the door to his hotel room open.

Noble 6 choked the Barghest soldier out.

"Hello? Are… are you still in there?" Charles' voice on the other side of the door was cautiously asking once the angry Barghest suddenly became silent.

"This… is Baba Yaga. Stella Ramoss sent me. Am I speaking to Bill or Charles?"

Noble 6 answered for the Barghest soldier.

"Oh…. Oh… Oh shit…" Was all Charles said for a while.

"I-I'm Charles. I'd like to open the door for you, but it's… stuck."

"Move back."

Noble 6 grabbed the door with one hand and ripped it off the metal frame.
Noble 6 quietly set the door down next to him and showed himself to the blood soaked Charles.

"Oh my fucking god…" was all Charles said as he stood there, face to face with Noble 6.

If Charles hadn't gone to the toilet recently, he was positive he would have pissed his pants right there.

"Bill is… Bill is this way. Hey Bill! Bill! Look who your Fiance hired to rescue us!"

"What-! What is it, keep it quiet and- Oh… Oh my fucking god…"

As Charles guided Noble 6 to his partner, the other NCPD officer stood there speechless. Also covered in blood.

… Noble 6 sighed a little. He didn't think he would bother asking questions about why there was a corpse on the table, dissected.

"Oh…shit, shit shit shit!" Dexter Deshawn said in a hushed tone as he saw who was stepping into his room.

A walking suit of armour, Eyeless skull as a helmet.

He knew exactly who it was.

It was Baba Yaga. THE FUCKING BABA YAGA…
He had seen the guy, and the team he lead, walking into Afterlife to get jobs from Rogue-fucking-Amendiares.

He knew exactly what they were capable of.

"Look, man. I, I know someone sent you to get me. But… But we can talk, right? We can negotiate. Let's negotiate! I'm a fixer too, you know? I've… I-I've got eddies! Half of what I have, I can give to you to tell whoever sent you that you lost track of me- that by the time you managed to track me down it was too late. We can- We can make a deal!"

Agent Locust stood there silently. Stood there dead still. No movement that even indicated he was breathing.
Like a statue, he was illuminated by the little specks of moonlight streaming between the barricades. Standing right next to the corpse of what used to be the fixer's bodyguard.
Dexter Deshawn couldn't see his eyes but he could feel the stare from this god damn monster.

"We can… we can make a fucking deal, come on! Speak to me goddammit…"

Dexter's breath became heavy as fear was slowly catching up to him. The longer he stared at the assailant, the more Agent Locust looked less human.

Dexter didn't realise what Arasaka's Counter intelligence found.

That they disguise themselves as mercs, boogeymen-for-hire. And they all ate that up hook, line, and sinker.
They are not mercs.
They are not boogeymen, they are not here to hide under the bed or inside closets to take kids at night.
They are not the Baba Yaga. The slavic witch can at least be tricked, can be reasoned with.
They are not human.
They are worse.

They are darkness itself taken form. They mimic speech to make the rest think they can be negotiated, that they can be reasoned, that they can compromise. They have shown their true colours once they strike, for at that moment they no longer have a reason to keep up the facade.
They are demons, wearing human hide.
And the greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.

Dexter Deshawn fell for that trick. Thought they could be negotiated, that a deal could be made.

Agent Locust no longer had a reason to keep up the facade.

"Wait… wait wait waitgodpleaseno… NO!"

Agent Locust picked up the pistol on the floor and aimed.
He pulled the trigger with zero hesitation.

Noble 6 picked up the revolver on the floor and aimed.
He pulled the trigger with zero hesitation.

Dodger, on the floor and howling in pain, had his brief misery ended permanently by his own custom modified handgun.

Several Barghest laid around the garage, dead.
Their faces contorted with pain and fear.

Bill and Charles stared at the scene, mouth ajar.

This was what those Tyger Claws were facing?

Noble 6 turned to the NCPD hiding behind their car.

"Are the two of you hurt?"

Charles stood there speechless, but Bill answered instead. Albeit with a stammer.

"Ye-wha-…. Ye-yeah, we're fine… we're fine."

Noble 6 nodded.

"Good. Time for us to leave."

Noble 6 looked to the door. He was sure more was coming this way.
Bill stood there, staring at Noble 6. He would continue looking at the Spartan if it wasn't for his partner-in-crime to snap him out of it.

"Come on, Bill! We need to go!"

"Right-! Right!"

As Bill and Charles got into their car, Noble 6 opened the garage door and gestured them to go.

They didn't have any reason to wait, immediately hitting the pedal to the metal and leaving.

It was time for Noble 6 to go too. As he turned on his camouflage module, he contacted Agent Locust through the comms.

"This is Noble 6. I'm finished on my end."

Agent Locust's distorted voice answered from the other end.

"This is Locust. I hear you loud any clear Noble 6, we're finished on our end too."

Noble 6 looked at the Revolver still in his hands. He had taken the weapon without thinking about it, but he guessed it was good to have a back up weapon right now in case there were obstacles while he was returning to his team.