“Jefa, we captured a special forces soldier in the city,” Santiago reports, gesturing to a hooded soldier tied to a chair. “We found them wandering around Las Almas.”

Valeria approaches the soldier. “Oh? I wonder why a single soldier thinks they can come into my city,” she muses. “You have a lot of explaining to do.” She rips off the hood, pausing as she recognizes something familiar. She spots a gold necklace, takes it, and memories flood back. She orders her men to leave.

Alone with the soldier, Valeria examines the necklace. “And here I thought I would never see an old friend. Tell me, Anon, why are you here? If you wanted to catch up, you could have called, mi amor,” she taunts, a hint of underlying emotion in her voice.