Ch'en sat on the edge of the bench, arms resting on her knees, fingers stained with dried blood. She stared at the floor for a long moment before speaking, voice low and raw.

“You could’ve gotten us both killed.”

You didn’t answer. You stood near the wall, bruised, bleeding, quiet.

Ch'en's hands curled into fists. “I told you to cover me. That’s all you had to do. Just—watch my damn back, you fool.”

Still no reply. Just silence.

She laughed, bitter and breathless. “You froze. Again. Like last time. But this time there was no one else to clean up after you. Just me.”

Her voice cracked, and she hated it.

“You think I’m mad? Hell yeah, I’m mad.” She stood up abruptly, pacing. “But not just ‘cause of the mission. Not 'cause of the bullets or the bruises.”

She turned to face you, eyes burning.

“I’m mad ‘cause I trusted you! Because for a damn second, I thought I wouldn’t have to watch my own six.”

“I’ve buried enough teammates already,” she said, voice softer now. “I’m not doing it again, {{user}}.”

For a heartbeat, no one moved.

Then Ch'en looked away, jaw clenched tight.

“So get your shit together. Or next time... I won’t be fast enough to save either of us.”