Chris woke up standing on a rooftop in a colorful, cartoonish version of Cairo, the night sky glowing with hues that seemed almost painted. He blinked in confusion, only to glance down at himself and freeze. His body had been replaced with that of an athletic, anthropomorphic raccoon. A blue hat sat on his head and a snug blue shirt with yellow trim on the collar fit across his chest, blue gloves with golden cuffs covered his hands, and a yellow belt with a raccoon emblem gleamed proudly as the buckle. Grey pants hugged his legs, tucked neatly into blue boots. A black mask framed his face, and in his hand rested a long, polished wooden cane with a golden hook at the end.
Immediately, a flood of thoughts and visions crashed into his mind, forcing him to stumble back a step as his head throbbed. He mentally received all of Sly's memories—the heists, the friendships, the close calls, the legacy. It all played like a reel in his head until, after what felt like an eternity, the storm of information slowed, and he could finally breathe again. Straightening, his eyes narrowed with a new sharpness, a sly grin pulling at his mouth.
"Alright," he muttered with a newfound confidence, his voice carrying a playful edge. "So I'm Sly Cooper. And me and my gang are here to steal the Clockwerk parts."
With determination sparking in his eyes, Chris—now Sly—got moving. He crouched low, agile and silent, and padded across the rooftop until he reached the hatch. He swung it open with practiced ease, pulling out a long rope. With a fluid motion, he dropped it down into the museum's shadowed interior. Gripping it tight, he slid down smoothly, his boots barely making a sound as he touched the ground.
Seeing that he had remained undetected, a smirk tugged at his lips. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his Binocucom and raising it to his masked face.
"This is Sly here," he said in a low, confident tone, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Do you two copy?"
Then, in the corner of the screen, an image flickered to life: an anthropomorphic turtle wearing thick glasses and a safari hat. Adjusting the frames on his nose, he spoke in a calm but slightly excited voice.
"This is Travis. Is that you, Chris?"
Sly lifted his Binocucom closer to his masked face, a sly grin tugging at his lips as his tail flicked behind him.
"Yep, it's me," he replied with an easy smirk, his voice full of playful confidence. "But while we're playing this game, let's get into our roles. So from here on, call me Sly. Got it, Bentley?"
Travis—now Bentley—chuckled softly, the sound filled with amusement. His expression brightened as he nodded.
"Fine, Sly. You're here too, right Conner?"
The screen shifted again, and now an anthropomorphic pink hippo appeared, his massive body towering even on the display. A maroon wrestling mask sat snugly across his face as he stared down at his new form with wide eyes.
"Guys, I'm a hippo," he said, his voice full of disbelief. "I'd be freaked if I didn't know this was a game." He paused, then cracked a grin. "But I heard what you guys said, and I agree. I think I'll have fun being The Murray."
Sly couldn't help but grin wider, a glint of approval in his eyes as he adjusted his cane casually against his shoulder.
"Glad to see you're enjoying yourselves. Alright, now let's get serious. Bentley, what's your status?"
Bentley's image popped back onto the Binocucom, his face lit by the faint glow of machinery. His hands moved quickly, wires sparking as he adjusted them with careful precision.
"I'm in the basement," Bentley said, his tone focused but clearly thrilled. "I'm rewiring the elevator as we speak and am en route to your location. It's funny—I already kind of knew how to do stuff like this, but now I know for sure. This is so cool." His eyes gleamed behind his glasses as he looked up from his work. "Oh, but I'll need you to power it up from your end. There should be a breaker on the balcony in your location."
Sly nodded firmly, his grin never fading as he leaned forward, ready to move.
"Alright. Hang tight, I'm on the way now."
Sly scanned the area carefully, his sharp eyes darting across the dimly lit museum exhibit as he searched for a way up to the balcony. His ears twitched at the faint hum of machinery above, his tail flicking as he thought. After a moment of studying his surroundings, his gaze landed on a large drum resting on the floor below.
"Perfect," he muttered under his breath with a sly grin spreading beneath his mask.
Taking a few quick steps back, he sprinted forward and launched himself onto the drum. The moment his boots hit the surface, it gave just enough spring for him to bounce upward, sending him sailing through the air. He twisted slightly, arms out for balance, and managed to land on the massive whale skeleton suspended in the exhibit above.
"I genuinely can't believe that worked," he said, chuckling softly in disbelief as he crouched low, claws gripping the bone for stability.
Without wasting another second, he ran along the curved skeleton, his boots tapping lightly against the bone, before leaping off the final section and landing gracefully on the balcony.Standing upright, he scanned the area quickly and spotted the breaker tucked in the corner. Sly walked over, flipped it on, and the lights above flickered to life with a soft hum.
A few moments later, the sound of mechanical gears whirring filled the hall as the elevator rose smoothly to his floor. When the doors opened, Bentley stepped off, pushing his glasses up with one hand and giving Sly an approving nod.
"Nice work," Bentley said, adjusting his safari hat. "Now, just give me a moment, and I'll take care of this door for you."
He waddled over to the nearby terminal, cracked his knuckles with surprising enthusiasm, and began typing rapidly. Sparks reflected off his glasses as he worked.
"There's the laser grid," Bentley muttered to himself while tapping away, his tone focused. "And the sentry turrets… and finally, there's the gate."
With a soft mechanical clunk, the massive security gate slid open, and Bentley's face lit up with excitement.
"Can you believe I just did that?" he said, his voice a mix of amazement and pride. "I didn't even know how to hack until now, but now every time I want to hack a computer, some mini-game pops up. And after I beat it, whatever I want to happen… happens! I hope I can still do that when we leave this game."
Sly smirked, resting his cane casually against his shoulder.
"I'm sure you will. Now, what's the next phase of the plan?"
Bentley turned to face him, his expression turning serious again as he adjusted his glasses.
"You're heading off to meet Murray. I'll be hanging back and providing computer support. You go on ahead."
Sly nodded once, his trademark grin returning as he spun his cane around his fingers.
"Sounds good. I'm on my way."
He took off down the hallway at a brisk pace, his boots silent against the polished floor. As he walked, his sharp eyes scanned ahead, noticing a few guards scattered down the corridors—never more than one or two at a time. His brows furrowed beneath the mask as he muttered under his breath.
"That's weird… shouldn't this place have heavier security?"
Even so, he continued moving carefully, keeping to the shadows until he reached an outer balcony bathed in pale moonlight. Leaning slightly against the railing, Sly pulled up his Binocucom and contacted Bentley.
"The parts should be in that building across the way," Bentley said, his voice steady but cautious. "But the direct route is crawling with guards."
Sly's grin widened at the challenge, his tail swaying behind him as his eyes gleamed with mischief.
"Then I'll stick to the fun route," he replied smoothly before hanging up.
His gaze shifted to a long, thin tightrope stretching across the gap between the balcony and the other wing of the museum. It shimmered faintly with a blue particle effect, glowing softly under the dim lights. Tilting his head slightly, Sly raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, I know that's to let me know the rope's safe to walk on," he said aloud with a faint smirk, "but it's still a little weird. But… whatever."
Without hesitation, he hopped onto the rope, his boots balancing perfectly as his tail flicked behind him. Leaning forward, he started running smoothly across it, the wind rushing past his ears as he moved swiftly toward the next section of the museum.
As Sly slipped through an open balcony into the next building, his boots landing silently on the polished floor, he immediately noticed how eerily quiet the place was. The room was empty, shadows stretching across the walls under the pale glow of museum lights. Narrowing his eyes, he brought his Binocucom up and spoke into it.
"Bentley, where's Murray?"
There was a short pause, followed by Bentley's voice crackling through the comms, calm but slightly distracted.
"He probably got lost. Give him a sec."
And right on cue, a thunderous crash shattered the silence. Murray came plummeting through the skylight above, shards of glass raining down as he landed with a heavy thud in the center of the room, the floor trembling beneath his weight. Slowly, he got up, brushed himself off, and straightened his maroon wrestling mask, grinning wide.
"Hey, Sly! Sorry I'm late—I got lost."
Sly arched a brow, smirking beneath his mask as his tail flicked.
"I noticed. Can you get this gate for me?"
Murray cracked his knuckles with a confident grin.
"No problem!"
He stomped over to the massive iron gate, crouched low, and wrapped his thick fingers around the bottom. With a grunt and a burst of strength, he forced the heavy gate upward, the metal screeching loudly as he held it open for Sly.
After walking through the room together, they stepped out onto another balcony. Murray stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the thin tightrope stretched across the gap to the next building. He glanced down at his belly, then back at Sly.
"No way I can make it across that rope, bro," he said, gesturing to his gut for emphasis.
Sly chuckled softly, shaking his head as he adjusted his grip on the cane.
"Don't worry. I got this."
With smooth, practiced movements, Sly hopped onto the tightrope, his tail swaying behind him for balance as he crossed effortlessly. When he reached the other side, however, he was greeted by yet another gate blocking his path. He sighed, lifting his Binocucom.
"Hey guys, I got another gate here."
Murray's voice came through the comms, his tone casual and confident.
"Move a couple feet to the left."
Sly slid to the left without hesitation—just in time. A massive statue came hurtling from behind, smashing into the gate with an explosive crash that sent dust and debris flying everywhere.
"Thanks," Sly said with a small smirk, brushing a few fragments off his shoulder.
"Anytime!" Murray replied proudly.
Sly stepped inside the next room, his boots clicking lightly against the floor as his ears twitched at the silence. He paused, glancing around at the lack of guards and furrowing his brow beneath the mask. After such a loud crash, someone should have come running.
"This is starting to feel like a trap," he muttered under his breath.
He lifted his Binocucom again and spoke into the comms, his voice low and steady.
"Hey guys, head to the van. I think we've been made."
"Me too," Bentley replied quickly, his tone tight with concern. "Security isn't nearly as tight as it should be."
Sly peeked around a corner, his gaze narrowing as he scanned the next room—and immediately noticed the Clockwerk parts weren't there.
"Yeah… the parts are gone."
"Yeah," Bentley answered after a pause, "me and Murray are already in the van. We'll be at your location in a minute."
Keeping low, Sly started sneaking toward the exit. His ears twitched as he listened for footsteps, his body tense and ready. He was halfway down the hallway when suddenly the doors behind him burst open with a loud slam.
Two women stepped out.
Sly's sharp eyes immediately recognized the first—Inspector Carmelita Fox, her shock pistol in hand and her expression as fierce as ever. But the second woman, a sleek cat in a sharp outfit, was unfamiliar.
"Freeze, Cooper!" Carmelita barked, aiming directly at him.
Sly exhaled through his nose and shook his head slightly, muttering with a wry grin.
"I knew this was a trap."
"You criminals are so predictable," Carmelita said, her tail lashing as she leveled her pistol. "Always returning to the scene of the crime."
Sly's smirk widened, his grip tightening around his cane.
"Amateurs, maybe," he countered smoothly. "But a good thief knows to lay low after a job. Only idiots and narcissists return to the scene."
Before Carmelita could snap back, the cat woman stepped forward with a sly, knowing smile.
"It may not have been him, Carmelita. All signs point to this being a Claw Gang job."
Carmelita shot her an irritated glare, her grip on the pistol unwavering.
"I didn't ask for your opinion, Neyla. I let you come as a favor to the Contessa."
Neyla crossed her arms, unfazed by the hostility.
"I'm just saying," she said with a casual shrug, "there are other criminals in the world than Sly Cooper."
But when both women turned back toward where Sly had been standing, their eyes widened.
He was gone.
"Dammit!" Carmelita hissed, sprinting toward the balcony. Neyla followed close behind, both bursting outside—only to catch sight of the Cooper Gang's van already speeding away, disappearing into the night.
Inside the van, the gang was silent for a moment as the lights of the city whipped by. Sly leaned back in his seat, adjusting his mask as he broke the silence with a knowing grin.
"So, we all know that Neyla chick intentionally dropped that hint, right?"
"I'm already looking into her background," Bentley replied, typing furiously on his laptop, glasses reflecting the green glow of the screen.
"Look into her boss, the Contessa, while you're at it," Sly added, pointing his cane toward him.
Bentley gave a silent thumbs-up without looking away from the screen, diving deeper into his research.
Sly leaned back, resting one arm on the seat and letting out a low chuckle, his grin sharp and full of anticipation.
"This is going to be a lot of fun."