You tore through the streets like a wounded animal, lungs burning, limbs screaming. Every breath you dragged felt like fire in your throat. Your feet hammered the pavement, echoing between alley walls, and behind it all—the wet hiss of blood dripping steadily, trailing your escape like breadcrumbs.

Your head whipped side to side. No sign of pursuit. Not yet.

But you knew he was close.

Him.
The man who broke your bones, fractured your sleep, rewired your thoughts until silence felt like safety. For years, you’d lived beneath him—never truly breathing, never truly alive.

Now you had distance. A gap. The smallest sliver of freedom.

You didn’t know how long it would last.

Your focus was survival. Sprint. Hide. Move.

You were so wrapped in flight you didn’t see the silhouettes turn the corner until one stepped directly into your path—and you slammed into him.

Your body recoiled. Pain flared from your ribs, but you bit down on it, hard, grinding your teeth to choke the sound. It still escaped—a sharp, fragile whimper. You stumbled back, dazed.

Uniform.

Gear.

Soldiers.

Your vision blurred. Panic sharpened. You couldn’t tell who they were—his men or someone else. You didn’t wait to find out.

You turned and ran.

---

Ghost blinked hard as something slammed into his chest mid-stride, forcing him half a step off balance. He looked down, already reaching for his holster—then paused.

A kid.

Small. Fast. Bloodied.

Their lip trembled as they bit it—trying, failing, to stay quiet. Their eyes darted across the group with a shattered look: not confusion, but dread so deep it bordered on animal instinct.

Then they bolted.

"Bloody hell—" Soap muttered, snapping his head toward the blur retreating down the alley.

Ghost stood still for one breath. Two.

Then he glanced down.

A smear of crimson streaked across his vest. Fresh. Still warm.

“Simon,” Price said low. “They weren’t just hurt. That was running-for-your-life kind of fear.”

Ghost didn’t answer.

Because in that moment, the mission didn’t matter. The dinner didn’t matter.

Only the blood.

Only the look.

And only the fact that somewhere nearby, someone dangerous enough to cause that kind of panic still hadn’t been seen.