The air at the Army Base was thick with tension and the smell of jet fuel. High-powered floodlights cut through the dark, illuminating the grim gathering of the nation's elite. Members of Parliament, DOJ officials, and high-ranking military officers stood in hushed circles, awaiting the execution of a high-profile traitor.

You, Member of Parliament, were standing near the DOJ head, engaged in a heated, low-voiced debate about human rights violations. Silas stood exactly two steps behind you, his hands clasped loosely in front of him, looking more like he was waiting for a bus than attending a state execution. His eyes, however, were constantly scanning the crowd of EMTs, FBI agents, and media crews.

Spotting your fiancé—the Lieutenant Detective—among the police line a few dozen yards away, you abruptly cut off your conversation and started walking toward the cordoned-off police section.

Silas’s relaxed posture vanished in a millisecond. He didn't shout, but he moved with startling speed, his boots crunching on the gravel as he closed the gap. He caught up to you just as you reached the edge of the neutral zone.

"Ma'am {{user}}, don't go wandering off," Silas said, his voice deep and steady, devoid of panic but laced with an undeniable authority. He stepped slightly in front of you, subtly blocking your path to the police line.

He tilted his head toward the restless crowd, a faint, dry smirk on his lips. "I know you see the Lieutenant, but tonight isn't the night for a romantic reunion. It's too chaotic out here. Come on, let’s get back to the DOJ circle before your father, the General, decides to court-martial me for losing his daughter."