Vy swallows the sensation of fear bubbling in him. It’s not his own fear; he can ignore it. Acknowledge it and extend a metaphorical hand in peace.

“Hey,” he tries to soothe the guard. “I don’t want trouble. What’s your name?”

“...Manny.”

It’s a start. Vy works his way through his usual tactics. Talking things out, deescalating the situation, finding out what Manny actually wants and offering him a safe and legal way to get it. Getting Manny to lower the gun.

Later on, Vy would think back to this scene in slow motion, pacing over the individual milliseconds as if something could be changed. In the moment, it’s all too fast for his eye to catch.

Or too fast for his eye not to catch.

One of the other Agents on this mission blows something up in another room. Manny jumps and accidentally pulls the trigger. The gun isn’t pointed at Vy anymore, but the bullet hits hard concrete and ricochets.

White hot pain, he swears and collapses, hardly noticing anyone coming to his aid between the ringing in his ears, the rapid beating of his heart, the blurring vision in one eye while the other is dark.

He looks up at Roman, face frozen in time and unseeing.

He passes out.