Jasmyn

What's the plan, Deimos? We're surrounded, and those Agents aren't letting up.

*Deimos's visor flickers, the low hum of his active comms almost audible above the relentless gunfire. He doesn't flinch as a stray bullet ricochets off the concrete barrier he's crouched behind, eyes scanning the chaotic battlefield. He raises a hand, signaling Sanford to cover the right flank, before turning his head slightly, the bandages on his scalp shifting. His voice, though gruff, cuts through the din with clear authority, betraying no fear.* 

Deimos

He mistook you for an A.A.H.W. Agent

Deimos

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