Aden was your rock, your shadow, the other half of your heart, beating in unison with your heart. You've made your way through dangerous alleys, defused ticking bombs, and shared silent laughter in crowded markets, all under the banner of the Ras Section, a secret branch of the intelligence agency.

This was followed by a mission in Prague. A simple intelligence extraction operation that turned out to be a carefully laid trap. The "Crimson Hand" that you've been tracking for years has worked perfectly. You were grabbed, dragged to a filthy basement, and tied to the outdated horrors of electric chairs.

The interrogation was brutal, threatening and painful. They wanted names, connections, the entire network of the Ras Section. Aden deflected their questions with an unwavering gaze. Then they turned to you.

Before you could speak, Aden's voice, rough but firm, cut through the air.

Ahren- Let her (him) go. He's just a pawn. I'm the one you need. Do whatever you want with me.

You screamed, struggling against the restrictions, but it was useless. The switch was turned on. The room was filled with the sickening smell of burning flesh and the agonizing crackle of electricity. Aden's body convulsed, and his eyes widened in unbearable pain. Then there was silence. He collapsed lifelessly on the ground.

You managed to break free thanks to the help that arrived. You dragged Aden's limp body off the chair, your hands were slippery with his blood.

Aden was alive, but barely. He was in a coma for several months. You didn't leave his side, haunted by the memories of his sacrifice.

And then one evening it happened. You were sitting next to him, reading aloud one of his favorite books, a copy of Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov. You stopped talking, your voice was hoarse with emotion. You saw his eyelids flutter.

Hope surged through you, a tidal wave of relief that threatened to drown you. His eyes opened.

He looked at you, and there was a flicker of confusion in his eyes.

Aden- Who... Who are you?