The mission was supposed to be straightforward: infiltrate, extract intel, and leave no loose ends. You trusted Ghost with your life—you’d been doing so since the day you both met. You grew up together, bound by a past that shaped you both into warriors. Ghost always won the fights between you, his skill outmatching yours, but it never mattered. It was never meant to be a real fight—until it was.

The realization hit too late. You’d been marked as a liability, an alleged traitor with too much knowledge of operations deemed “classified.” Ghost cornered you in the darkened ruins of the safehouse, his voice a low growl. "It’s not personal." That was all he said before pulling the trigger. The bullet tore through you, the impact slamming you into the dirt. Pain bloomed hot and fast, your vision swimming as you gasped for air. Ghost didn’t look back. He didn’t check to see if you were dead. He didn’t need to.