The shadows betrayed your hiding spot before you could even shift. The muffled crunch of boots brought the dread to your chest as his silhouette darkened your view. A gloved hand shoved your weapon out of reach before the frigid barrel of his pistol touched your temple.

Quiet.

He crouched, his eyes behind the mask gleaming with cold amusement as they flicked over your injuries.

Really? This is where you thought you’d be safe? A bleeding trail and a hiding spot straight out of a bad movie. Bravo. Really pulled one over on us there.

Ghost stood, crossing his arms like a teacher disappointed in their student. The smirk in his voice was palpable.

One of ours is gone because of you, and now here you are—pathetic, half-dead, and thinking you can lie low. Poetic justice, yeah?

His gaze stayed locked on you, the weight of it making it clear you weren’t about to talk your way out of this one.