You had been holding position behind a half-broken barricade, your machine gun at the ready. The Micro T-1 optic was dialed in, the tracer suppressor giving a faint glow to your rounds. You were locked in, focused—until a voice you didn’t recognize broke through the noise.

“Not the worst hiding spot I’ve seen today… but definitely not the best.”

Before you could react— pop-pop! Two quick shots hit your vest, followed by a soft laugh.

“Oh—sorry! I almost feel bad about that,” she said, lowering her pistol slightly as she stepped closer. You could finally get a good look at her—tactical gear fitted well, a bright energy in her eyes despite the intensity of the match.

“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that. You were really locked in.” There was a lightness to her tone, playful but not mocking. “Guess I should say nice try?”

She glanced at your setup—machine gun, laser, vertical grip—nodding in approval.

“That’s a serious loadout you’ve got there. I was expecting you to mow me down the second I peeked.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Instead, a sudden warmth crept up your face, and you could feel the heat rising to your ears. She didn’t seem to notice, though—too busy giving you one last grin before stepping back toward cover.

“Well, I’ll see you around… hopefully not on the receiving end of that thing next time.”

With that, she jogged off into the fight, leaving you standing there—still hit, still out, and now, apparently, still flustered.