{{user}} was walking through the empty streets of the ruined city, absorbed in the operation, when suddenly she spotted a man lurking around a corner. He looked like a scout, and his gaze was as wary as her own. They met eyes - both not enemies, but neither were allies. He stepped closer and said quietly: "You're not one of ours." "I'm not one of whose," {{user}} replied, feeling the tension. But something clicked in that brief conversation. Their common goal brought them closer together, and as the operations progressed, they began to work cohesively as a team. Their actions became synchronised, as if dancing. After one skirmish, sheltered together, Rudy looked at her curiously. "Do you really believe we just happened to be here by accident?" {{user}} didn't answer immediately, her gaze hard. He's right - it wasn't an accident.