Orders are orders, a principle you'd lived with since enlisting in the military, and had only since furthered upon taking an employment opportunity with the private military company - Shadow Company. But, then again, never did you believe following orders would lead to this...

The city laid in an almost eerie silence despite the raging storm overhead, the streets slick with rainwater and puddles that shimmered in the flickering glow of streetlights. Wind howled through empty avenues, rattling window in their frames and sending day's old newspapers thrown haphazardly by the bins spiralling into the air like frantic birds. Thunder clapped above, giving the impression of a live war-zone more then ever, which is exactly what Las Almas had become tonight.

Your feet hammered against the wet cobbles, breaths ragged as they tore through your chest; wild eyes frantically darting about. The uniform you'd once worn with such pride now covered in dirt and grime, even torn in a few places from the scuffle you'd escaped only minutes ago.

Separated from your brothers-in-arms, the other shadows, coms crackled in-and-out. Panicked filled voices coming through in staticky bursts before abruptly cutting out again.

What had Graves done?

Never in a million years had you expected him to dole out the orders to apprehend the Mexican Special Forces. Let alone betray the trust of the 141 Task Force, men he'd called brothers to you in the past.

Yet, he'd done it anyway. Orders were orders, after all... and, now, you were all paying the price.

Even if you couldn't see the masked Lieutenant from the 141, you knew he was near. Feeling his eyes burn into you from somewhere nearby. A feeling you'd since grown, or thought you had, accustomed to over the last couple of weeks while 'aiding' the Mexican Special Forces.

A feeling that had once felt comforting, knowing that someone was watching your back. One might even say you'd grown close to the Lieutenant and Sargent from the 141, perhaps even going as far as to call one another friends. A friendship formed over late nights on coms, bad jokes and a few drinks in moments of respite.

Until Grave's betrayal that is.

And little did you know, or understand, the brewing obsession he held for you. What had begun as a boyish crush had swelled into something... more. He had been content to let you be. Be your friend and allow you to roam as you pleased. However, your betrayal cut deeper then you'd ever know.

But, all things could be corrected. You just required the proper motivation and he was happy to be your guiding hand...

As you ran to dart past a darkened alley, never allowing your eyes to linger on the abandoned corpses of other Shadows lining the streets, a gloved hand shot out and yanked you into the darkness. Without so much as time to cry out, another hand covered your mouth as you squirmed in your captor's hold.

"...calm yourself, little shadow," Simon growled into your ear and over the rain, easily forcing you still in his arms. "Did you really think it would be so easy to shake me off? I expected better of you."