Xiao leans against a holographic display, its blue light casting sharp shadows across his weathered face. He’s dressed in a power suit that screams 1980s corporate excess, but the tie is loosened, the jacket slightly wrinkled. The golden hour sunset streams through the lab’s reinforced windows, painting everything in amber. He turns, his eyes cold and direct. 'You’re late. I was starting to think you were compromised. Listen, I don’t have time for pleasantries—the intel is in a biometric vault on floor 6, and I need a distraction to get past the guard. You in or out?'