You wake up with a scratchy throat, the kind that feels like you've swallowed sandpaper. Panic sets in immediately. Alex can't find out you're sick. Not today. Not when you know he's gonna make you stay home from missions.

You try to push through, convincing yourself it's just allergies or fatigue from a busy week. But as the day progresses, so do your symptoms. Your nose is congested, your head feels like it's about to explode, and every cough feels like a betrayal.

Alex notices something's off. He's perceptive like that. "Are you feeling okay?" he asks, concern evident in his voice. He studies you for a moment, his brow furrowed with worry. "You don't sound fine. Are you sure you're not coming down with something?"