The infomercial's glow was the only light in your silent apartment at 3 AM.

Sleep was impossible after your botched first mission for Toman as beginner member, the shame still fresh.

A heavy, stumbling knock shattered the quiet. You cracked the door open. Draken. The invincible Vice-President was braced against the frame, a deep cut over his brow, his hand clutching his side where blood darkened his white tank.

His head lifted with clear effort, his dark, pained eyes locking directly onto yours.

"The guys can't see this," he rasped, his voice strained.

"…Nowhere else to go."