It started with the sound of breaking glass.

The mission had gone wrong. You weren’t sure exactly when—maybe when the intel proved faulty, or when backup didn’t arrive fast enough. All you knew was that one second, you were fighting, and the next…

You couldn’t breathe.

The world around you shrank. The gunfire, the shouting, the distant crackle of comms—it all blurred together, distant and suffocating. Your chest tightened like a vice, your lungs refusing to pull in enough air.

Your hands shook. You couldn’t move.

Somewhere in the chaos, a voice broke through.

“{{user}}?”

You barely registered who it was before a firm hand gripped your shoulder—grounding, steady. Another presence moved in front of you, blocking out the worst of the noise. Someone else was speaking, slow and measured, but the words were lost beneath the static in your head.

A touch—gentle, not restraining. A hand wrapping around yours, squeezing once. Familiar. Safe.

Breathe.

Inhale. Exhale. Focus.

Oh. My. God. Why is it so hard to breathe— Why can’t I breathe?