In Cortana's world,

the expression of the variant of Jonesy's face, voiced by Ryan Reynolds, in distant and lost in thought. The room around him is filled with voices, but they are muffled, almost as if they are underwater, creating a disorienting effect that mirrors Jonesy's current state of mind. The voices begin to sharpen, and the heated discussion among the group becomes clearer.

"We can't waste any more time," Bangalore said firmly, her tone edged with impatience. "We need to decide, and we need to decide now!"

Ezio Auditore, ever calm but with a touch of concern in his voice, replied, "But we don't even know what's inside that container. It could be something far more dangerous than we're ready to handle."

Bangalore stood her ground, resolute. "That's exactly why Chief should be the one to fight it. He's got the experience and the firepower to handle whatever's in there."

Standing apart from the group, Master Chief—the variant from Halo 5: Guardians—watched the discussion, his imposing figure a silent reminder of his readiness for battle. His voice, when he finally spoke, was measured and practical. "It could be a trap," he said. "We have to consider that possibility."

"I can handle it," Wraith cut in, her voice determined. "My abilities allow me to lure the creature with my dimensional rift. I can keep it distracted long enough for the rest of you to get into position."

Mirage, as usual, attempted to lighten the mood, though his tone carried an underlying seriousness. "Isn't that, I don't know, cheating? Could get us disqualified or something."

"This isn't a game, Mirage," Bangalore snapped, her voice sharp with frustration. "We need to do whatever it takes to survive. And I still vote for Chief to take on the creature."

As the debate continued, Nora noticed that Jonesy was still lost in his own world. Her brow furrowed in concern as she called his name, her voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Jonesy... Jonesy!"

The sound of his name snapped Jonesy out of his reverie. He blinked, finally focusing on Nora and the others.

"Are you even listening to us?" Nora asked softly but firmly, her voice carrying a mixture of concern and frustration.

Jonesy blinked a few more times, shaking off the fog that had clouded his thoughts. He looked around the room, nodding with a small smile. "Yeah, I was listening," he said, though his tone didn't quite convince Nora.

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow skeptically. "Oh really?" she challenged. "Then what did we say?"

Straightening up, Jonesy's expression shifted into one of mock seriousness as he recounted the details. "You were debating whether Chief or Wraith should fight the creature," he began confidently. "Ezio's worried about what's inside the container, and Bangalore's ready to throw Chief into the ring regardless."

Mirage, clearly impressed, gave Jonesy a nod of approval. "Well, color me impressed," he said with a grin. "You were actually listening!"

Jonesy flashed a playful smile. "What can I say? I'm a multitasker," he quipped, adding a wink for good measure, trying to ease the tension with his usual lightheartedness.

For a moment, the mood in the room lightened, but Bangalore, ever the serious leader, refocused the conversation. "Jonesy," she said, her voice softer now but still carrying an edge of concern, "why didn't you tell us about the bounty? That you're wanted? We could have done something about it."

Standing nearby, Michael Torres nodded in agreement, though his tone carried a hint of frustration. "Yeah, man," he said supportively. "We could've had your back on this."

Jonesy's expression softened, a flicker of guilt passing over his features. He let out a sigh before responding sincerely. "I didn't want it to be a distraction from the main mission," he admitted. "Look where we are—we're almost out of here. I didn't want anyone worrying about me when we've got bigger fish to fry."

Nora, her voice gentle but firm, stepped closer to him. "It would've been better if you told us earlier," she said, her concern evident in her gaze. "So you wouldn't be under so much pressure trying to make this device while worrying about a bounty on your head."

Jonesy looked around at his friends, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It's okay," he said earnestly. "I know I've got you all. These past two years... you're like family to me."

Nora smiled softly at his words, the bond they'd formed over time apparent in the shared glances between the group. There was a palpable sense of appreciation in the room, an unspoken understanding that they were more than just a team—they were bound together by the trials they had endured.

Arbiter, ever the practical one, brought the focus back to the task at hand. "How much time do we have left before the device sends the beacon?" he asked, his deep voice cutting through the warm moment like a blade.

Jonesy turned to the screen, fingers quickly tapping away as he checked the timer. "Seventeen minutes? Three minutes just passed?" he murmured, confused. After a pause, he smirked and quipped, "Time works weird in this story, huh?"

Breaking the fourth wall with a playful wink, Jonesy injected a touch of humor into the tense atmosphere. The others exchanged confusion, not understanding what he just done or said.

Ezio stepped forward, his movements deliberate, the weight of his years of experience clear in his every action. His tone was calm, but there was an undeniable seriousness behind it. "This... is going to be a problem," he said in his measured Italian cadence. "If the device takes twenty minutes to send that beacon across the multiverse, we will still have to deal with Henry and his... offer."

Mirage, always quick with a playful solution, raised a hand, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Can't we just, I don't know, stall him? Buy ourselves some time?" he suggested, his voice laced with a mix of humor and a hint of sincerity.

Nora shook her head, her expression grim as she shot down the idea. "Even if we stall him, he'll know something's up," she said sternly. "And when he does, he'll attack. That's not a risk we can afford to take."

Bangalore, always the strategist, added her voice to the discussion. "And if he attacks, he could destroy the device," she said firmly, her sharp gaze sweeping the room. "He won't know it's our way out, but that won't matter if it's gone."

Jonesy, who had been quietly considering Mirage's suggestion, suddenly spoke up with a new idea. His tone had shifted from playful to serious, and a spark of determination flickered in his eyes. "What if... I go against the creature?" he suggested, the words hanging in the air like a challenge.

Bangalore whipped around to face him, her expression a mixture of annoyance and concern. "Don't even think about it, Jonesy!" she snapped. "You wouldn't last ten seconds against whatever that thing is."

Jonesy met her gaze head-on, his playful smirk replaced by a look of steely resolve. "I can do it, Bangalore," he said confidently. "I'd rather fight than hide." He let out a small chuckle, referencing an old movie with a grin. "Besides... I have a particular set of skills, skills I've acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like him."

Nora, frustrated by the turn of the conversation, stepped forward, her voice filled with concern. "Jonesy, this isn't a game," she said firmly. "If you go out there, you're done. Either way, it's over."

Jonesy paused, her words sinking in. For a moment, his resolve wavered. He took a deep breath before nodding slowly, accepting the reality of the situation. "Fine," he sighed. "What's the plan?"

Mirage perked up, a new idea clearly forming in his mind. His face lit up with excitement as he addressed the group. "We have to try at least... what if I use my decoys?" he suggested enthusiastically. "I can turn one into Jonesy. That should buy us some time for the device to activate the beacon."

Master Chief, ever the pragmatist, narrowed his eyes as he considered the plan. "Will it work?" he asked gravely, his voice carrying the weight of a soldier who had seen countless plans succeed and fail.

Mirage grinned confidently. "Oh, it'll work," he said with a sly grin. "My decoys have never failed me. Next thing you know, Henry Tailsman is gonna be totally bamboozled."

Meanwhile,

Outside the lab, Henry Tailsman sat casually on his motorcycle, lazily fiddling with his bulky revolver. His sharp eyes were constantly scanning the area, alert despite his seemingly relaxed posture. As Mirage's decoy—appearing as Agent Jonesy—approached, Henry's gaze sharpened, and he slowly holstered his revolver, his expression unreadable.

"Henry," the decoy called out, its voice steady and serious, "I want to talk."

Henry rose slowly, his movements deliberate as he analyzed the situation before him. His eyes remained locked on the decoy, suspicion flickering behind his calm demeanor. "Hmm..." he muttered quietly, his voice carrying a hint of doubt as he began to walk toward the decoy.

Back in the high-tech lab,

The tension was thick. Jonesy sat in front of the computer, his focus intense as he watched the feed. Mirage, practically bouncing with excitement, leaned over Jonesy's shoulder, grinning widely. "Look at that!" he exclaimed, barely able to contain his glee. "It's working! My decoy is putting in some serious work!"

Wraith, ever the no-nonsense type, cut through Mirage's excitement with a sharp whisper. "Be quiet, Mirage," she said firmly, her eyes never leaving the screen.

Everyone in the lab held their breath, waiting to see how long the ruse would last.

Arbiter stood with his arms crossed, watching the screen intently. His sharp eyes followed the unfolding events, and he gave a small, approving nod as he assessed the situation.

"It seems the decoy is working," he said gravely, though there was a note of approval in his voice.

Michael Torres, standing nearby, remained cautious despite the small victory. His tone was serious, a touch of concern evident as he watched the monitor. "Or at least, it's buying us enough time," he muttered, unsure of how long their ruse would hold.

The scene shifted back to the decoy, standing in front of Henry Tailsman. The decoy had the appearance of Agent Jonesy, his casual posture betraying none of the tension simmering beneath the surface. His voice was smooth, carrying the usual swagger that accompanied Jonesy, but there was an underlying sincerity in his words.

"Henry Tailsman," the decoy said calmly, keeping his tone light but firm. "You're the man everyone's been talking about, but I'd rather have a conversation than a fight."

Henry's gaze was cool and measured, his suspicion clear. His eyes never left the decoy, searching for any sign of deception. "I'm surprised," Henry said quietly, his tone tinged with suspicion. "It's not like you to give up without a fight."

The decoy didn't flinch, keeping his composure as he stared back at Henry. His voice remained calm, but there was a weight to his words. "It's not about giving up, Henry. It's about knowing when it's time to talk instead of fight. We can still end this without more bloodshed."

Henry's expression shifted slightly, a glimmer of confusion and curiosity flashing across his face. He wasn't used to this behavior from Jonesy, and it unsettled him. He spoke with a hint of sarcasm, trying to regain control of the situation. "Talk? And what would we talk about, Jonesy? You trying to save your skin, or are you actually offering something that matters?"

The decoy remained steady, his tone growing more earnest. "This isn't about saving my skin. It's about stopping something bigger—something you and I both know is spiraling out of control. We've got a chance to end this without turning everything to ash."

The decoy took a slow step forward, maintaining eye contact, hoping to reach Henry on a level beyond their immediate conflict. "You've got your reasons," he continued, his voice calm but persuasive. "I get that. But there's more at stake here than just our fight. We can choose to stop this before it gets worse."

Back in the lab, Nora noticed a subtle change in Henry's demeanor on the screen. She leaned forward, her voice urgent as she turned to Jonesy. "The decoy is stalling him," she said, worry lacing her tone. "How much time until the device is ready to send the beacon?"

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Jonesy quickly glanced at another monitor, his expression shifting to mild confusion as he read the timer. "Seven minutes?" he muttered, perplexed. Then, with a playful grin, he added, "How does time even work here?"

Bangalore, always the no-nonsense leader, cut in sharply. "It doesn't matter," she said with urgency. "We're getting close."

Meanwhile, the decoy continued his conversation with Henry, maintaining the act as best as he could. "But in all seriousness, Henry," the decoy said sincerely. "It doesn't have to be this way. There's still time to stop this. We can find another way."

Henry, though intrigued, remained skeptical. He slowly holstered his weapon, his movements cautious as he observed the decoy with growing curiosity. His eyes narrowed, suspicion still simmering beneath his cool exterior. "You think words are going to change anything now?" he asked casually, though a hint of doubt crept into his voice.

The decoy held his ground, his voice steady as he tried to appeal to Henry's reason. "I know they can," he said earnestly. "We don't need to keep escalating this. There's always a choice—no matter how deep we are, we can still turn back. You don't have to keep doing this, Henry. There's more to life than bounties and bloodshed."

Henry took a few slow steps forward, studying the decoy with an intensity that suggested he was genuinely considering the words. For a brief moment, a flicker of doubt crossed his face. Perhaps, just maybe, he was beginning to see the truth in what the decoy was saying.

"Maybe..." Henry said thoughtfully, his voice softening. "Maybe you're right."

Sensing Henry's hesitation, the decoy pressed on, his tone taking on a calm intensity. "Think about it—what's on the other side of all this? More chaos? More blood? You have the power to stop it right here, right now."

For a moment, Henry remained silent, his hand resting lightly on the grip of his revolver as he mulled over the decoy's words. But then, with a sudden shift in his demeanor, the flicker of doubt vanished. A cold smirk twisted his lips, and the hardness returned to his eyes.

"Almost had me there," Henry said, his voice cold with finality.

Without warning, Henry drew his revolver and fired a single shot. The decoy flickered and disappeared, revealing its true nature. Henry chuckled darkly, shaking his head in amusement.

"But stalling won't save you," he muttered to himself as he turned his back, ready to continue his pursuit.

The high-tech lab was thick with tension, the air practically buzzing with anxiety as Bangalore stood in front of the screen, her sharp eyes glued to the unfolding scene. Her voice was steady, but an unmistakable edge of urgency cut through her tone as she reported the latest development.

"Henry just shot the decoy," Bangalore said gravely.

Mirage's reaction was instant, his usual carefree demeanor dissolving as panic took over. His eyes widened in shock, his voice a frantic blur. "He did what?!"

Across the room, Agent Jonesy's face tightened with concern. His usual lightheartedness had vanished, replaced with a deepening dread that weighed heavily on his shoulders. "Oh no..." he whispered quietly, his voice filled with growing apprehension.

Just outside,

Where Henry Tailsman calmly holstered his weapon, a cold calculation in his movements. He looked toward the distant silhouette of Piltover Academy, knowing full well that his words would reach his adversaries. His voice carried an eerie coolness, laced with menace.

"Smart move for sending out a decoy to stall for time," Henry said, almost mocking them. "But you're only making things worse for yourselves."

He glanced at the surrounding Piltover officers, noting their hesitance with a smirk. They hadn't fired a single shot at him, and it amused him more than it should.

"I'm surprised none of you so-called soldiers have taken a shot at me yet," Henry continued with dark amusement. "Must be smarter than I gave you credit for. You know if you do, you'll only bring more chaos down on your heads."

Henry turned his attention back to the convoy of ominous vehicles behind him. The unknown contents of a large container loomed menacingly. His tone shifted, colder now, more threatening.

"But let me make one thing clear," he said, his voice darkening. "I didn't come all this way for a game of cat and mouse. I came to collect what's mine. And if I don't get it, believe me, I've got plenty of ways to make sure you regret it. You think you can outsmart me? Outlast me? Fine. But every second you waste, every delay you cause, is only making things worse for you. And when I'm through, there won't be much left to save."

He glanced down at his watch, noting the time. His gaze shifted back toward Piltover Academy, his tone becoming final, chilling. "You've got three minutes. Three minutes to decide whether you bring out my bounty or face the consequences. And trust me... you won't like the consequences."

Inside the lab,

Tension skyrocketed. Henry's countdown had begun, and the pressure hung over them like a storm cloud. Mirage paced back and forth, his usual confidence cracking as panic seeped into his voice.

"This isn't good, guys," he muttered nervously, almost to himself. "This is really bad."

Jonesy, seated at the computer, had spaced out again, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. Ezio, always the composed tactician, looked around the room, his calm voice laced with a sense of urgency. "What do we do now?"

Bangalore's voice cut through the growing tension, firm and resolute. "We fight back."

But Nora quickly countered, her concern for the device's safety overriding everything else. "We can't," she said urgently. "It'll put the device at risk."

Master Chief, ever practical, added gravely, "Or worse, we lose our chance to leave."

Bangalore clenched her fists in frustration, her patience fraying. "We can't stall for more time. We're running out of options."

Michael Torres, the strategist, offered a solution, though his tone reflected the gravity of their situation. "Then we retreat."

But Arbiter shook his head firmly, his deep voice resonating through the room. "We don't have time to gather everyone for a retreat. It'll slow us down too much."

Wraith, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up. Her voice was calm but filled with thought. "There's got to be something we can do without risking Jonesy to Henry."

In that instant, Jonesy snapped out of his reverie, a look of sudden determination crossing his face. Without a word, he stood up from the computer, grabbed a jetpack from the table, and sprinted toward the door. The room erupted in alarm.

"Jonesy, no!" Nora shouted desperately, her voice filled with panic as she bolted after him.

Ezio, Michael, and others reacted quickly, their voices joining Nora's as they rushed to stop him. But before Nora could follow, Master Chief stepped in, his grip firm as he caught her arm and held her back. His voice was calm but authoritative, grounding the chaos around them.

"Let him go," Master Chief said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Nora struggled for a moment, her eyes wide with worry, but Master Chief's unwavering presence calmed her. As much as she wanted to rush after Jonesy, she trusted Master Chief's judgment, knowing that sometimes, they had to let people make their own choices—even in the face of danger.

Jonesy's breath came in short, sharp gasps as he sprinted down the narrow hallway. Bangalore's urgent voice crackled over the comms, sharp and decisive.

"Anyone available, stop Jonesy! Now!" she ordered.

Ezio's voice followed soon after, calling out to Jonesy as he chased him down the corridor. "Jonesy, stop! We can talk about this!" His voice was filled with urgency, but there was also a plea in it, a hope that reason might still prevail.

Jonesy didn't slow. His mind was set, his feet moving swiftly beneath him. Ahead, two Piltover officers barreled toward him. Without a second thought, Jonesy dropped low, sliding beneath them just as their hands reached out to grab him. He slipped past, but he could feel the thundering steps of Ezio and Michael closing in fast.

Ezio, ever the master of parkour, effortlessly vaulted over obstacles in his path, while Michael's enhanced speed kept him right on Ezio's heels. Jonesy's agility and quick reflexes helped him evade their grasp, but he could feel them gaining on him. He knew he didn't have much time.

Finally, he reached a dead end. Panting heavily, Jonesy glanced around frantically. He was cornered. Ezio and Michael slowed their approach, wary yet determined, as they closed in on him.

Michael's voice cut through the tension, desperate but pleading. "We're in this together, Jonesy! Let's go back inside and talk this through."

Ezio took a step forward, his voice steady and calm. "Jonesy, you don't have to do this alone. We're with you. It's our fight too."

Jonesy's face twisted in conflict. He could hear the sincerity in their words, but his decision was made. He shook his head, his voice soft but resolute. "I'm sorry, guys. I've made up my mind."

At that moment,

Henry Tailsman glanced down at his wrist timer, his expression cold and calculating. "One minute," he muttered to himself.

Back in the hallway, Jonesy glanced upward. Cornered, but far from defeated, he made his move. With a swift motion, he activated his jetpack, propelling himself upwards. Using the confined walls to his advantage, he ricocheted off them with precision, soaring above Ezio and Michael as they lunged for him but missed by inches. In a final burst of speed, Jonesy twisted mid-air, firing his jetpack one more time to launch himself through a narrow vent above the dead end.

Ezio and Michael could only watch as Jonesy disappeared from sight, their frustration evident.

Meanwhile, Henry's eyes remained fixed on the timer, his expression impassive as it ticked down. "Thirty seconds," he said, his voice low and authoritative.

Jonesy, having escaped, raced through the hallways, his focus unshaken. He dodged more officers, using the jetpack to leap over them and slide beneath obstacles with graceful, agile maneuvers. His mind was entirely focused on reaching Henry before it was too late.

Back in the high-tech lab, the atmosphere was tense. Nora, Bangalore, Wraith, Mirage, and Arbiter stood in silence, their expressions a mix of defeat and worry. Jonesy had managed to escape, and now, they were uncertain of what lay ahead.

Suddenly, a soft chime echoed through the lab. Nora's eyes darted to the computer screen, which flashed with a notification:

"Device Ready to Transmit Beacon." Her eyes widened in realization. The device was now fully operational.

But as Nora can send the Beacon, On Earth-749,

In a dimly lit armory within Piltover, the air was thick with tension. Agent Jonesy, The Foundation, James Heller, and Master Chief stood gathered around, their focus intense. Master Chief held his sniper rifle, scanning its components with the same precision he applied to every mission. Maps and screens filled the walls, displaying intel from various universes. This small group was the only team ready to respond once the signal came through.

"Shouldn't we tell Jayce about this?" Jonesy asked, anxiety creeping into his voice.

"There isn't time," The Foundation replied firmly. "The signal could reach us at any moment."

As if on cue, the door creaked open, and Vi stepped into the room. Her expression was determined, her eyes hard with resolve. She walked up to the group with purpose.

"I want in," Vi said confidently.

The group turned to face her. Master Chief studied her for a moment, his helmet tilting slightly as he considered her.

"Are you sure?" Master Chief asked, his voice calm but with a hint of curiosity.

Vi nodded without hesitation. "I'm certain. I want to understand this multiverse thing. And I want to help."

The group exchanged glances, understanding the gravity of what lay ahead. Vi was in, and now they were one step closer to what awaited them on the other side of the signal.

Back on Cortana's world,

Henry Tailsman watched his timer reach zero. His expression turned cold and resolute. This was it. "Time's up," he declared firmly.

He gave the signal, and instantly, his convoy roared to life. Weapons were readied, and engines growled as they prepared for an all-out assault on the Academy. Henry drew his own weapon, the deadly glint in his eye reflecting his unwavering determination. With a final look of dark satisfaction, he began his monologue, his voice low and dangerous.

"You had your chance. Now, you'll see what happens when you—"

Before Henry could respond, the sound of thrusters echoed through the air, and suddenly, Jonesy came barreling into view, his jetpack sputtering as he made an awkward yet somehow comedic landing right in front of Henry. He skidded to a stop at Henry's feet, the impact sending a small cloud of dust into the air. The unexpected interruption left Henry momentarily stunned.

Jonesy, slightly off-balance from his less-than-graceful entrance, stumbled but quickly regained his footing. He looked up at Henry, who stood frozen, a mixture of surprise and curiosity etched on his face.

"Hi," Jonesy said awkwardly, offering a sheepish grin.

With a quick motion, Jonesy shrugged off the jetpack, letting it drop to the ground with a clatter. He straightened himself and, in a rare moment of self-awareness, broke the fourth wall with a playful smirk. "You must be... Liam Neeson," he quipped, before quickly correcting himself with exaggerated embarrassment, "I mean, Henry Tailsman."

Henry raised an eyebrow but signaled his convoy to hold their position. The engines behind him quieted, and the air grew tense. Jonesy took a deep breath, smoothing out his jacket as he tried to compose himself.

"With that dramatic entrance," Henry said, a hint of amusement tugging at his lips, "I'm guessing you're not a decoy this time. You're the real deal."

Jonesy nodded, his voice steadier now as he met Henry's gaze. "Yeah, I'm the real deal. And I'm not afraid anymore."

Henry chuckled softly, his tone mocking as he tilted his head, curious about Jonesy's newfound bravado. "Not afraid of what? Me killing you for the bounty?"

Jonesy shook his head resolutely. "No. I'm not afraid to face off against your opponent."

Henry paused, surprise flickering across his face before he burst into deep, hearty laughter that echoed through the ruins. Jonesy, unperturbed, stood his ground, glancing around awkwardly as he waited for Henry to finish.

"Go ahead," Jonesy said casually, with a shrug. "Laugh it off."

Henry's laughter eventually subsided, though the amusement lingered in his eyes as he regarded Jonesy with renewed interest. "So," Henry said, his voice calmer but still dripping with humor, "you came all this way just to face off against my opponent? My creature?" He glanced over at the large container behind him, chuckling darkly. "My creature..."

Jonesy stood firm, his voice unwavering. "Yes, and I'm not afraid of you or your creature in that container."

Henry narrowed his eyes slightly, sizing Jonesy up with a cold smirk. "You realize you're outmatched, don't you? My creature is not something you can handle."

Jonesy took a step forward, his posture unyielding, his gaze intense. "Outmatched? Maybe by your standards, Henry. But let me tell you something—you think you've won just because you've got a monster locked in a box. But I've seen more than just creatures and killers. I've faced things that should've torn me apart, but I'm still here. I didn't come this far to roll over because someone threw a bigger threat my way. I fight for something bigger than myself. You, on the other hand..." He gestured toward the container. "You're just a man hiding behind his monster."

Henry chuckled softly, shaking his head as if Jonesy's words were a joke. "You're joking, right? You think a speech is going to change anything? You're out of your league, kid."

Jonesy didn't back down. His voice rose with passion as he launched into another monologue. "I, Jonesy, am hereby challenging your opponent to—"

Before he could finish, a massive thud reverberated through the ground, causing both Henry and Jonesy to instinctively step back. Their heads snapped up just in time to see a figure descending from the sky, landing with enough force to send shockwaves rippling through the area. The impact kicked up a thick cloud of dust, momentarily obscuring everything from view.

As the dust began to settle, an imposing figure emerged from the haze. James Heller stood between Henry and Jonesy, his expression dark and dangerous. His mere presence was intimidating, his body radiating power and fury. He stared down both men, his eyes burning with fierce determination.

Jonesy, caught off guard, gaped at Heller in disbelief. "Where did he come from?" he muttered to himself, astonished.

Turning around, Jonesy's eyes widened further as he spotted his own variant, the Original Agent Jonesy, standing at the entrance of the Piltover Academy alongside The Foundation and Nora. Relief washed over Nora's face as she stepped forward, her voice filled with gratitude.

"Thank you for getting here on time," Nora said softly, looking between the two Jonesys. "And for choosing someone to fight against Henry's opponent."

The Foundation, calm and collected as always, nodded. "We were able to track the beacon right away, just as I promised Ezio," he explained, his tone authoritative.

The Original Agent Jonesy grinned, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "And I wouldn't want to miss this fight either."

James Heller, who stood like a sentinel between Henry and Jonesy. His presence alone was enough to send a chill down Henry's spine. Without missing a beat, Heller's voice cut through the tension, laced with grim resolve.

"Newsflash, bitch," Heller growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll be the one to face off against your opponent."

The air grew still as Henry's smirk faltered, the gravity of Heller's challenge settling over the battlefield like a shadow.