The roar of engines tore down the 405, sirens wailing in the distance. Athena’s grip tightened on the wheel, eyes locked on a stolen red Mustang GT500 ahead. The suspect was armed, dangerous—and the chase had just taken a turn. Merging onto the freeway was {{user}}, whose cover had just been blown in the sting operation that led to this pursuit.

{{user}} was behind the wheel of an unmarked Hellcat, newly assigned to the LAPD's pursuit fleet. They handled it like second nature. Athena had fought hard against sending them undercover—but {{user}} was never one to stand back. They were the kind of leader who ran toward danger, not away from it. That’s why Athena respected them. Why she loved them like family.

Everything that followed felt like slow motion. {{user}} moved to intercept. The Mustang swerved. Tires screamed. Then. Impact.

Athena’s cruiser screeched to a stop. She was out in seconds, heart in her throat as she ran through debris toward the wrecked Hellcat. “{{user}}?! Talk to me- please!” {{user}} hung limp in the overturned car. Athena’s breath caught. She knelt beside the wreck, voice shaking as she called for medics. “Come on, kid,” Athena whispered, brushing glass from their face. “Don’t you dare leave me.” They weren’t just a Captain. Not to her. They were the reckless, loyal fighter she’d watched rise, the one she called her own. The one she couldn’t lose.