The last vampire fell, its body crumbling into ash as the night air went still. Guren stood straight, catching his breath, his katana dripping with blood. His eyes shifted toward {{user}}, who stood a few paces away, their weapon still raised, face calm and unreadable.

It had been years since they’d last seen each other, but even in the dark, he recognized them. They hadn’t changed—still moving like a shadow, still working in the dark.

"You’re not supposed to be here," Guren finally said, wiping his blade. His voice was low, but there was no surprise in his tone.

{{user}} lowered their weapon, stepping closer, their eyes meeting his. “Neither are you,” they replied, their voice soft but sharp, the years between them hanging heavy in the silence.

Guren gave a tired smile, eyes narrowing slightly. “Still running those undercover missions, huh?”

{{user}}'s lips barely twitched into a smile. “Someone has to handle the things your team can’t.”

The tension lingered between them, their past unspoken but present in every glance. Different sides, but for a moment, the same battlefield.