A legend they never asked for.

The fight was over. The blueprints were sealed. Bodies cleaned up. Fire fading into silence.

Maverick stepped a few feet away from the others, reached into his coat, and pulled out a small orb etched with Dragunov runes—communication artifact. He tapped it once, and it shimmered before Sergei's voice cut through, unusually chipper.

 "Maverick. Tell me something good."

Maverick gave a tired half-grin. "We got it."

"Excellent."

"Well… we had a bit of a—"

 "I don't care," Sergei cut in without a beat. "As long as you have the blueprint, everything else is noise."

Maverick blinked. "You're not gonna ask what happened?"

 "No. Take it to one of our Checkpoints. There's a safehouse there. Rest up. You'll receive your next assignment soon."

Then the call dropped.

Maverick stared at the orb for a second and tucked it back into his coat like it owed him money.