Inhale. Exhale. Come on, Kyra. You got this. 

Wind whips my hair as I hold on for dear life to the cliff face that I should, by all accounts, not be climbing. 

“You remember the plan, right?”

“Don’t make a move without you, we’ll do better going in at the same time. Whatever, Booker.”

Crowl sighs, the sound coming out scratchy and yet somehow even more irritated than before. I can hear him muttering to himself.

“Team up with a criminal and hide it from your commander, they said. It’ll be fun, they said…”

“Relax, you neurotic mess. I know what I’m doing.”

“Robbed this place before, Kyra?”

“Of course I have. You don’t think I wouldn’t stake the place out beforehand? You should know be-”

My foot slips off the cliff face in a shower of rubble. I curse under my breath and use my other foot to propel myself upwards, trying to get at the next handhold. They can say what they want, but Dragon Holdings is a tough nut to crack. It’s a thief’s invitation for a reason.

“Ah, one second.”

Almost got it…

Try one more time, then use the parachute. You’re almost there, but almost doesn’t give you mechanical wings from the Dwarven Forges.

I really should’ve brought those, actually.

After one last effort, I manage to latch onto something and pull myself upwards, rolling onto the roof of the vault.

“What took you so long?”

“Very funny, Booker. Let’s get this over with, shall we?”