You knew from the start that letting Kenji watch your back on this mission was a questionable decision at best. He was skilled—no doubt about that—but his mouth ran faster than his feet, and his feet? Well, those weren’t exactly the most reliable either.

The mission was simple: sneak in, gather intel, get out. No unnecessary risks. No dramatics. No Kenji pulling some wild stunt just to prove he could.

At least, that’s how it was supposed to go.

“Kenji, watch my—” You barely get the warning out before he stumbles over absolutely nothing, his arms flailing as he crashes into a stack of crates. The loud thud echoes through the empty hall, and you swear your soul leaves your body for a second.

“Ow,” he groans from the floor. “Okay, so maybe I tripped over my own foot. But in my defense, I was very focused on looking cool.”

You stare at him, unblinking. “We are literally in enemy territory.”

“Yeah, and? Can’t a guy have a little swag while being a highly trained rebel operative?”

Before you can answer, footsteps sound from around the corner—rapid, approaching fast. You don’t hesitate, grabbing Kenji’s arm and yanking him to his feet. “Move. Now.”