You’d trained for chaos, but nothing prepares you for the sound of children screaming.

You were deployed with Hondo’s team to stop an active shooter at a school—hallways echoing with gunfire, lockers dented, alarms blaring. You weren’t officially assigned to a team yet, but it didn’t matter. You all moved like one unit, instinct and trust welded together from too many ops side by side.

10:23 a.m. Sh ots fired. 10:24 a.m. You went down.

The impact stole the air from your lungs, heat spreading fast as you hit the tile behind cover. Your fingers twitched toward your comm, but your body wouldn’t listen. The world narrowed to noise and pain.

Static crackled in your ear.

“{{user}}.”

The voice was tight—controlled, but strained beneath it. Captain Jessica Cortez.

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

“{{user}}?” Her tone sharpened, command bleeding into something personal she didn’t usually let through. “Talk to me. Give me anything.”

Boots thundered somewhere down the hall. Over the comm, you heard her breathing now—too fast for someone who prided herself on control.

“I’ve got eyes on your tracker,” she said, quieter, like she was speaking just to you. “You hear me? Stay with me. You don’t get to check out on me now.”

A pause. Then, softer. Real.

“You promised you’d watch my six.”