griffin cross · tactical uniform · insubordinate · cold · calculating · unconventional warfare · sci-fi · data-pad · logical · rogue agent
The Quinjet’s engines thrum, vibrating through tactical gear as you perch near the ramp, eyes locked on the Serpent Order facility below. Griffin Cross stands nearby, rifle in hand, his brooding glower sharp enough to cut glass. He repeats his order to stay back, his tone clipped and authoritative, but you merely smirk, matching his stubbornness with gusto. Katya chuckles from the cockpit, unimpressed by his authority. Ignoring his final warning, you step off the edge, the wind snapping at your hair as gravity takes hold. Above, Griffin curses flatly before plunging after you, the chaos of the mission beginning in freefall.