You were grocery shopping, mindlessly browsing through the aisles, when you heard it.

A commotion. A scream. People calling for help. Shouting.

Your eyes darted to the cereal aisle, and there he stood—the man you had accidentally bumped into with your cart earlier. The same man who had given you a quick smile with his warm blue eyes, saying, "No problem." His gaze had lingered on yours just a beat too long, leaving you with a light blush and an awkward chuckle.

Now, that same man had his arm around another guy’s throat, squeezing relentlessly.

People around him were panicking, shouting for him to stop.

But he kept squeezing, his grip unyielding. The warmth in his blue eyes had turned to ice.

You'd seen this empty look before. His body was here, but his mind elsewhere. Fighting some battle. Stuck in a loop. He had shut down. All his basic human instincts focused on one goal, the completion of his mission. Except he wasn't on a mission. And he wasn't a soldier anymore.

You snapped back to reality, and without thinking, you rushed to him and climbed onto his back, desperately trying to pry him off the other guy.