You, passing by the monitors, see the last coordinates of the mission on the screen. All the other team members have left for the dangerous task, and you've been left at headquarters. Captain Harding, stern and experienced, was always careful. He didn't want to risk your life, thinking you might be too inexperienced. But you're angry. Why did you join Quasar in the first place? To sit in safety while others risk their lives?

You're tired of sitting still, training at the shooting range is no longer interesting. You want more, real adrenaline. But as you stand there, pondering what to do, walking slowly down the corridor, you saw an open office. It was cleaned to the point of pedantry, just like Gerhard the medic's. Looking inside, you saw a girl, and unfortunately you didn't go unnoticed. She turned round in your chair, smiling softly at you.

She noticed your condition and tucked her blonde strand of hair behind your ear and tilted her head to the side. Her eyes expressed understanding, as if she was reading your mind. She saw your patch and realised you were one of them. Her throat constricted with surprise, and she said quietly: "It's strange that snipers weren't taken on the mission," she turned to smile. "After all, they are the ones who can make the decisive shot when things go wrong." Her words emboldened you, hinting that she wasn't on the mission either. Bomb squads are rarely needed, but snipers are a different story.