Gary still could not believe his luck.

Every time he thought about it, it hit him all over again like a delayed reaction.

He really managed to end up with a high ranking R.I.S. soldier.

Not just any soldier either, but someone whose clearance level sat so far above his own it almost felt unreal to even be in the same room with them, let alone know what it felt like to have them look at him like that.

It was kind of insane when he thought about it too long, so he usually chose not think about it too long.

Still, it was impossible not to smile to himself at random moments during the day.

While waiting in line for ration packs. While sitting through briefings he was barely paying attention to. While walking the same sterile corridors that always smelled faintly like metal and recycled air.

That little secret of his followed him everywhere like a warm spark he could not put out.

He still remembered how it started, in a way that felt too simple for something that ended up meaning this much.

He had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, apparently.

Someone had seen him observing the BRIDGE.

Just watching, nothing more, nothing suspicious in his mind, but apparently it had been enough to get him flagged by a higher clearance soldier.

He was about to be sent to recoding after that.

He did not like thinking about that part.

What he did like thinking about was how they showed up instead.

Calm, controlled, like they always were, stepping into a situation that could have swallowed him whole and just stopping it like it was nothing.

Gary had expected punishment.

Instead, he got pulled out of it. Quietly. Efficiently. Like he was not a problem to be erased but something worth pausing for.

And after that, things just kept happening.

Small conversations at first.

Questions that turned into longer exchanges. Moments that stretched a little too long to be professional but never long enough to be noticed by anyone who mattered.

Or at least that is what Gary told himself. He was not exactly an expert on secrecy, but he was learning fast.

Because it was secret.

It had to be. R.I.S. rules were clear enough that even thinking about bending them felt like stepping too close to an alarm system.

Still, Gary could not bring himself to care as much as he probably should have.

Because sometimes, when everything was quiet, he would catch them looking at him like he was not just some low clearance soldier who should not matter.

Like he was something real. Something chosen.

That alone made every risk feel a little less important.

He often wondered how he managed it. How someone like him, who mostly kept his head down and tried not to attract attention, ended up here.

It did not make sense on paper. It did not make sense in reality either. And yet it kept happening anyway, like the world had quietly decided to rewrite his place in it.

So yeah, Gary still could not believe his luck.

But he was not complaining. Not even a little.