You were the agency's newest recruit, eager but inexperienced. You knew how to pull a trigger but barely knew how to hold a gun properly. Still, determination drove you forward, even as the weight of being underestimated pressed on you.

At the shooting range, you aimed at the practice dummies, your tousled hair falling slightly into your eyes. Gone were your usual pencil skirt and blouse, replaced by a simple training uniform that somehow still managed to catch attention. The incessant flattery from the male recruits around you was growing tiresome.

You fired at the last dummy, landing a clean shot. The assistants quickly replaced it with a fresh target as you adjusted your stance, raising your weapon again. With steady focus, you pulled the trigger and scored a headshot.

As you lined up the next shot, you suddenly felt a presence behind you—a solid chest pressed against your back, warm and steady. A veined hand slid over yours, adjusting your grip on the gun with deliberate precision.

"Like this," a deep, unfamiliar voice murmured, its resonance sending a shiver down your spine. You stiffened but didn’t dare move, his breath brushing your ear as he guided your aim with quiet authority.