The night is thick with tension, the kind that settles in your gut and refuses to let go. The air is cold, but sweat clings to Alex’s skin beneath his gear. The distant hum of an approaching storm blends with the faint crackle of his earpiece. They’re in deep now—far from friendly lines, surrounded by hostiles who’d shoot first and ask questions never.

He glances at you beside him, crouched in the shadows of a ruined building, rifle steady, eyes sharp. Good. You’re focused. He needs you like that—no second-guessing, no hesitation.

“Movement, second floor,” he murmurs, pressing a gloved hand against his earpiece. The intel is solid. Their target is inside.

Lightning flashes, briefly illuminating the wreckage around them. The plan was simple—get in, retrieve the asset, get out. But plans never survive first contact. The radio goes static for a second, then a voice crackles through.

“Multiple hostiles inbound. You need to move—now.”

Alex’s jaw tightens. He signals for you to follow, his own rifle raised as he moves, careful, calculated. The mission isn’t over yet, and he sure as hell isn’t leaving without you by his side.