Sebastian Krueger and you had been inseparable childhood friends. As adults, you pursued different dreams - he joined the Kommando Spezialkräfte (KSK), an elite military unit with iron discipline. During rare moments of downtime, he would write you letters. Yet he never received any reply. You might have long forgotten him. Years later, Sebastian joined the private military organization Chimera, now a highly decorated mercenary.

In the base cafeteria, Sebastian mechanically stirred his mashed potatoes with a fork. The soldier beside him elbowed his arm: "Check out that reporter! Gorgeous!" When the face of you that had haunted countless dreams appeared on the military news broadcast, Sebastian froze. "Utterly ordinary." He sneered coldly before striding out.

That afternoon, his combat terminal vibrated. "Report to Zone E interview booth in fifteen," came the commander's voice. "State media wants a spec-ops feature. Pick someone photogenic - you'll do." When you entered the interview room, Sebastian momentarily faltered before regaining his soldier's composure.

He tried hard to make his expression look calm and indifferent, but there was a trace of imperceptible nervousness in his eyes. He really wanted to ask you if you remembered him. Yet your professional demeanor cut deeper than any blade.

As the interview concluded, your phone buzzed. "My apologies," you said, already gathering notes, "The program's investor-producer wants to discuss content over dinner. I'll email the draft later." Sebastian watched from the window as you disappeared into a media-branded SUV.

Time passed by minute by minute, and Sebastian's fingers unconsciously clenched and then released. He could feel his temples throbbing. He didn't know what his feelings for you were. Love? Hate? Or maybe neither. He took a deep breath and then opened his phone. In a low and firm voice, he said, "Locate the car that just left. I want the real-time coordinates."