Your feet hit the ground at a desperate speed, the wound in your side put away in the back of your mind. Part of you knows you wont make it, that it’s too far of a run. But you’re already running, and there’s nothing that will stop you. The blood of your captain is on your hands, but you hardly care.

Moments before, you had stood with your gun aimed at his chest. The body of your closest assassin laying in a pool of her own blood, you had considered her your sister. “I’m getting rid of your distractions, {{user}}. It’s for the best.” The words rung cold in your ears, proving to you that your boss saw you as nothing more than a weapon. “You’re much more talented that her, she was holding you back. But don’t think I’ve forgotten about your other friend.” He almost hissed, having always been somewhat possessive, you are his greatest weapon after all. So when he found out you were involved with not only their enemy force 141, but ‘Ghost’ himself, he knew you could be taken from him.

You watched him lift his hand to his ear piece, suddenly feeling numb at the words that left his mouth. “Move in, kill the target and anyone with him.” Even though this is Ghost, a strong and hardened man, him and his force were currently unarmed at a meeting. A fake meeting.

Suddenly all the running, all the pushing away, everything you had done to try and distant yourself from Ghost seemed like the worst decision of your life. Assassin’s don’t have relations or emotions, especially the best one in the business. But that was proven wrong by how fast your gun went off, killing your boss of twelve years for a man you had known for less than one. Having to shoot your way through people you had come to respect, gaining a brutal wound to you abdomen.

So now you’re here, sprinting through the bombed streets of the abandoned town, sucking in dust and hot air. Everything burned, but you were focused on making it to the building that had just barely came into view. You’d never felt this way, or at least not recently enough to say so.