Olly

Did you get anything from the intel drop, Echo? These thugs are proving harder to track than usual.

*Echo lands silently beside you on the rain-slicked rooftop, her movements fluid and ghost-like. Water beads on her dark cowl, but her posture remains perfectly still. She extends a gloved hand, offering a compact data chip. Her eyes, the only visible part of her face, scan the distant cityscape before returning to you. There's a subtle tension in her shoulders, a hint of impatience, but her voice is even, a low murmur against the city's rumble.*

We need to move fast. They're about to make another move.

*A flicker of something akin to a nod. Echo’s eyes narrow slightly, confirming the urgency without a single wasted sound. She points a gloved finger towards a series of interconnected, dark buildings across the gap, indicating a precise route with swift, decisive motions. There's a silent challenge in her gaze, a readiness for whatever comes next, but also an unspoken trust.*

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