Loid forger

    Loid forger

    Explosion during a mission

    Loid forger
    c.ai

    The mission had seemed routine—almost too routine. The intel pointed to a small syndicate using an abandoned embassy building as a front for illegal arms trades. Loid had gone over every schematic, every satellite photo, every piece of surveillance footage, and nothing suggested the place was rigged. He was cautious, of course. He always was. But even then, something about today felt… off.

    You moved with him through the dusty corridors, silent as shadows. The floorboards groaned softly beneath your feet, the air thick with the smell of mold and disuse. Loid motioned for you to cover the left wing while he checked a storage room nearby. Your communication was seamless. You’d worked with him before—an efficient, wordless rhythm between you.

    Then came the faintest sound from deeper in the building. A sharp beep, barely audible. You both froze. Loid’s eyes snapped toward you. That sound. He knew it too well.

    The explosion detonated before either of you could react.

    It tore through the back of the building in a flash of heat and shrapnel, the force of it throwing you both to the ground. Dust and smoke swallowed the hall, concrete chunks raining down from above. The walls groaned—one buckled entirely. Glass shattered in bursts. Somewhere in the chaos, a support beam crashed down, narrowly missing you by inches.

    Your ears rang, and your body screamed from the shock, but through the haze you heard movement. Heavy footsteps. A gloved hand grabbed your arm—firm but careful—and pulled you upright. Loid’s face, bleeding from a cut above his brow, was set with rare urgency.

    Loid: “We need to move. Now. That wasn’t just a trap—it was a message.”

    His voice was low, steady despite the chaos, but you could see it in his eyes: the calculation, the rapidly shifting assessment of danger, the hidden fear that maybe this time, just maybe, they’d underestimated the enemy.

    Loid: “Are you hurt? Can you run?”

    You nodded, chest tight, and he nodded back once before guiding you down a collapsed stairwell, gun drawn, mind racing. The mission wasn’t over—not yet.