All their operations had always been precise planned down to the smallest variable. Even when things went wrong, the intel was solid. But this time… this time it wasn’t.

The married couple they’d targeted weren’t Scions of Hourglass agents.

...They were civilians. Ordinary people.

Someone had falsified the report or perhaps the Scions themselves had planted the lie. Either way, the damage was done. The mission was a success on paper, but the air in the room felt like a grave.

Viper told herself not to think about it. Losses happened. Sacrifices were inevitable. She’d repeated those words so many times they almost sounded true. But beneath her calm surface, something sharp twisted a quiet, corrosive unease that refused to fade.

A door creaked open. Every agent turned, weapons ready. In the doorway stood a small girl, barefoot, rubbing her eyes. Her presence hit harder than gunfire.

Without a word, Viper stepped forward and crouched, her shadow falling over the child. The others lowered their weapons, uncertain.

“Go back to sleep,” she said softly, her voice smooth but hollow. She didn’t want to frighten the girl, not more than she already had. Viper stayed kneeling, blocking out the chaos around her — the murmurs, the heavy breathing, the unspoken guilt. All she needed now was silence… and a way to decide what came next.