It’s hard not to recognize the way they move around each other almost flawlessly, finishing each other’s sentences—if sentences were punches and kicks and gunfire. They don’t miss a beat, anticipating where the other would be before they even think to move there, filling in blanks and fighting together so seamlessly and efficiently that he could swear it’s twenty years ago.

But it isn’t, and as soon as the creature hits the ground (presumably dead), he’s reminded of the reality of the situation. This isn’t Reyes—it’s Reaper, coalescing from smoke in front of him, staring through the mask like he’s deciding whether or not this temporary alliance is worth keeping.

There’s a lot that 76 could say, he thinks, but when Reaper pivots and heads back towards the door, he doesn’t. They don’t need to say anything at all, even if this is just a temporary truce forged in the interest of staying alive.

He follows anyway, without question.