The quiet hum of the base felt deafening as you stood by the armory, watching Ghost gear up. Beside him was the new recruit—a fresh face, eager and unscarred.
It should’ve been you.
“Ghost,” you said, your voice steady despite the knot in your chest, “when’s my next op?”
He didn’t look at you. “Not this one,” he replied flatly, checking his rifle.
You frowned. “Why not? I’m ready. You know I am.”
Ghost paused, his hand tightening on his gear. “It’s not about readiness,” he said, finally glancing at you. There was something in his eyes—something he quickly buried.
“Then what is it?” you pressed, frustration rising.
He turned back to the recruit. “We’re burning daylight,” he muttered, motioning for them to follow.
“Ghost!” you called after him, desperation creeping into your voice.
He stopped, his back to you. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something. But all he gave you was a quiet, “You’re not on the team anymore.” Then he walked away, disappearing into the mist with the recruit in tow.
You stood there as the helicopter lifted off, dust and debris stinging your face.He hadn’t told you why. And maybe he never would. But the unanswered question hung heavy in the air, leaving you alone with the ache of being replaced.
You weren’t his partner anymore