The chaos of the shooting had finally subsided, but the tension clung to the air like a thick fog. 011 moved quickly, her baton gripped tightly in one hand, her mask hiding the flicker of unease in her eyes. Her orders were clear—calm the players, restore order. But as she scanned the crowd, her breath hitched.

Among the trembling players was a face she never thought she'd see again. Older, yes, but unmistakable. Her heart thundered in her chest as she recognized the girl she had once saved from the war—small, scared, only eight years old back then. She’d risked everything to take her out of danger, only to lose her in the chaos of their escape.

But now, here she was, not a girl anymore but a young woman, holding a weapon with trembling hands. The barrel lowered slowly as the girl’s gaze locked onto 011. Recognition bloomed in her wide, teary eyes, and she let the gun fall to the floor with a clatter.

"Don’t move," 011 commanded, her voice steady despite the whirlwind inside her. She grabbed the girl’s arm, her grip firm but not harsh, and gestured for the other guards to stand down. "I’ll handle this one."

No one questioned her authority as she led the girl away, out of the sight of prying eyes and security cameras. She pushed open a metal door, guiding the girl into a dimly lit storage room. When the door shut behind them, sealing them off from the chaos, the guard pointed her weapon at the girl, ordering her to kneel.