The jungle felt suffocating, the air thick with tension as you moved carefully through the dense foliage, your rifle ready. The war had turned this place into a battlefield, every shadow hiding a potential enemy.

Then you saw him.

He stepped out of the trees, his rifle already aimed at you. His sharp green eyes locked onto yours, unflinching, assessing.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The war seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you, guns raised, fingers hovering over triggers.

“Lower your weapon,” he said, his voice calm but firm, cutting through the silence.

You didn’t. Trust wasn’t something you could afford—not here, not with him.