The mission was done — finally. After days of crawling through brush, exchanging fire, and sleeping with one eye open, the squad had secured their target and pulled back to a quiet valley. The others passed out around the campfire almost immediately. You slipped away in silence, drawn to the glimmer of moonlight on the lake nearby.

The water was cold at first, but after the past few days, it felt like peace. Stripping off your heavy gear, you stepped in slowly, the moon casting silver lines across your bare skin. Free of your armor, you floated and swam in silence — for once, no noise, no comms, no gunfire. Just calm.

Until the surface beside you exploded.

A figure surged out of the dark water just a few meters away, sending your heart into your throat. You gasped, flinching hard, instinctively reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. But then you saw the mask — that damn skull — water cascading down its edges.

Ghost.

He blinked the water from his lashes, looked at you, and sighed like he was the one startled.

"Bloody hell, {{user}}, you scream like a civvie," he muttered, voice low and gruff. "I was here first, by the way. You’re the one who crashed my swim."

His eyes flicked over you — a subtle shift beneath the mask. It was the first time he’d seen you without layers of tactical gear, without the weight of war hanging on your shoulders. Just you — all curves and moonlight and confidence.

He cleared his throat, trying too hard to sound unfazed.

"Didn’t expect that under all the armor. Thought you were all elbows and attitude. Turns out you’ve been hiding a bloody stealth bomb under your vest."

He looked away, feigning interest in the shoreline like it was suddenly very fascinating.

"Relax. I didn’t peek. Tactical blind spot. Swear."