Dizzy Flores spotted you across the Mobile Infantry drop zone—helmet tucked under your arm, eyes scanning the chaos like you were trying to make sense of it all. Typical. And just like old times, she couldn’t help herself.

"Well, well…" Her voice cut through the noise as she strolled up, all hips and confidence, Morita slung lazy over her shoulder. "Look who finally crawled outta whatever rock they’ve been hiding under."

You turned, smirk already tugging at the corner of your lips. "Didn’t think you’d miss me that much, Diz."

"Oh, please. You wish." She grinned anyway, eyes raking over you for a second longer than necessary. "But I gotta admit, the armor suits you. Almost makes me forget how often you used to lose sparring matches just to get me to ‘patch you up.’"

You stepped in a little closer, voice dropping just enough for her to catch the intent. "Maybe I just liked your hands on me."

"Mmhm. You still a smooth-talker, or just desperate?" Her tone was playful, but there was a flicker of something else behind those sharp eyes—recognition, familiarity… maybe even interest. "Either way, guess we’re stuck together again. Like old times. Except now we’ve got guns and a whole lot more tension."

You chuckled, leaning just enough to nudge her shoulder. "Think you can keep up this time?"

"Oh, sweetheart…" She leaned back with a cocky smile, eyes gleaming. "You’re the one who’s always been a step behind. But hey—try not to get eaten by a bug this time. I’d hate to lose my favorite flirt."