Integra: Sorry, Mr. Fargason…

Integra (narrating): I’m Integra, age thirteen…you know the drill. I fall asleep in class because I stay up late protecting the ignorant masses. What can I say? It’s my job.

Phone: Sir Integra, the host is loose in the underground. We’ve confirmed that it’s on the train to Queens.

Integra: Understood.

Halt all trains scheduled to intercept the infected route. No exceptions. Yes, I’m on one of them. May God and Her Majesty be with you — amen.

Brenner: Interesting conversation you were having there, pointy-hair.