Years ago, you were sent on a mission with your squad to a remote village in Texas. Your target was a notorious drug dealer rumored to be hiding there. The orders were clear: eliminate him at all costs, even if it meant sacrificing innocent lives. Reluctantly, you followed your orders and helped your teammates plant explosives around the village. When the detonations went off, the devastation was absolute. The drug dealer was killed, but so were all the villagers—men, women, and children.

While your team was eager to leave the scene, you couldn't shake the need to ensure no survivors were left behind. You returned to the smoking ruins, sifting through the debris, hoping to find someone, anyone, who might have survived. Amidst the wreckage, you found a boy, crying and badly injured—the sole survivor of the explosion. Ignoring your team's disapproval, you took him in and nursed him back to health. He stayed with you until he regained his strength and was able to leave.

Now, years later, your base was under attack by a newly formed, powerful private army: the Shadow Company. You and your men didn't stand a chance. You fought valiantly, but one by one, you were overpowered and beaten. Lying on the ground, barely conscious, you watched as the Shadows moved aside to let their commander step forward. He carried a gun, and with cold precision, he started executing your men, one by one.

"You took my village's lives, now I take yours," you heard him say, the words chilling you to the bone. Recognition hit you like a freight train as you looked up at the commander. It was Graves, the boy you had saved all those years ago.

He reached you last, pressing the gun to your forehead. Recognition flickered in his eyes as he looked down at you. Slowly, he lowered his gun, the anger in his expression giving way to a mix of confusion and long-buried sense of gratitude.

With a conflicted look, he turned away from you for a moment, signaling his men to withdraw. "Leave this one, I'll deal with them." His soldiers dutifully leave.