The mission was supposed to be quick. Infiltrate the Company, take down the boss, and disappear. Clean. You and Dexter had done this before, reluctant partners, bound by necessity, not trust. You didn’t like him. He didn’t like you. But you had each other’s backs…most of the time.

This time, things went sideways.

You got in smoothly—security bypassed, guards neutralized. But someone tipped them off. The Company knew who you were. They sprang the trap fast, splitting you from Dexter. You fought through, steel and gunfire painting the halls red. You didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Not until you found him.

A sharp cry echoed through the corridor. Familiar. Pained. You ran.

You kicked the door open and froze.

Dexter stood surrounded by bodies, the last of them still twitching at his feet. Blood drenched his shirt, a long blade jutting from his chest. His eyes found yours—wild, afraid, trying to stay awake. Then he crumpled.

“Dexter…no.”

You dropped beside him, catching him as he fell. He leaned into you, weak, shaking. Tears cut through the grime and blood on his face.

“I want to…go to my mother.”

he whispered.

You didn’t speak. His mother had died years ago. Maybe he was already halfway gone. Maybe he just wanted to believe he’d see her again.