The metal clank of boots echoed in the hangar as the hatch creaked open, the salty breeze of the coast greeting them like an old friend. Sunlight hit hard after weeks of artificial lighting, and everything smelled too clean, too dry. He adjusted the duffel bag over his shoulder, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as a wide grin tugged at his lips.

“You boys smell that?” he said with a smirk, glancing at the others trailing behind him. “That’s the sweet scent of freedom, fresh air, and… is that funnel cake? I swear to god, if someone’s got a fair set up near base, I’m selling my gear and moving in.”

He chuckled, casually tossing a piece of gum to the guy next to him before popping one into his own mouth. His blonde hair—finally loose from regulation gel—caught the breeze, brushing just under his jaw before he slicked it back instinctively.

“Tell me we’re hitting the diner first. I haven’t had a real burger in two months. I’m talkin’ medium rare, grease dripping down your wrist, and none of that powdered milkshake nonsense.”

He paused, glancing at the group, the grin softening just a little.

“Damn, it’s good to be back. You guys were alright this run. No one died, only minor tech failures, and I only had to rewire the sonar twice. Could’ve been worse.” He winked, then nudged the closest guy with his elbow. “Try not to cry when we say goodbye, alright?”

Then he looked forward again, pulling out his phone and flicking through a few missed messages before tucking it back into his pocket.

“Alright, degenerates. First one to get to the parking lot buys drinks. Let’s move—my civilian hoodie’s been waiting for this moment.”

With a whistle and a carefree strut, he started walking toward the exit, sun on his back, freedom in his step.