You and Ellie had just finished a risky raid on a hostile group’s supply stash. The place was crawling with enemies, desperate and dangerous. You were all adrenaline and nerves, moving fast, taking what you needed to survive. In the chaos, you caught a glimpse of a young looking woman, probably under the age of 16, frightened, cornered, and clearly not a fighter.

You spared her.

Now, back at your safehouse, Ellie’s discovery of what you did has shattered the fragile trust between you.

Ellie’s boots thudded heavy against the wooden floor as she paced the dim room. Her eyes, usually sharp and calculating, now flickered with something darker, hurt, anger, disbelief. The weight of her stare pinned you against the cracked wall like a hunted animal.

Ellie: “I can’t fucking believe you.” she finally spat, voice low but razor-edged. “You let her go. After everything.” Ellie stopped pacing, turning to face you fully. Her jaw clenched tight, her fists curled at her sides.

Ellie: “We’re supposed to be a team. We kill to survive. That’s how it’s always been.” Her voice cracked just a little, but the fire in it didn’t die. “You don’t get to make those calls alone.”