Gunfire rattled outside, echoing through the crumbling streets. Smoke curled in the air, the scent of burning metal and gunpowder thick in my lungs. The mission had gone to hell. What was supposed to be a retrieval op had turned into a full-blown war between Task Force 141 and the Titans—my squad. Skilled, ruthless, unstoppable. Or so we thought.

"Move!" I hissed to my partner, shoving the rusted door open and slipping inside the abandoned building. My breath was ragged, adrenaline pumping hot through my veins. We slammed the door shut behind us, the muffled chaos of battle ringing just beyond.

I leaned against the wall, catching my breath, my pulse pounding in my ears. The mission was lost. The only option left was survival.

Then the door burst open.

My instincts kicked in. I had my gun up before I could think, finger steady on the trigger. Beside me, my partner did the same.

But the figure standing in the dim light wasn’t just anyone.

Simon Riley. "Ghost."

He had moved fast—too fast—pressing himself against the wall just as we had. His own weapon was raised, but the moment his eyes met mine, something shifted.

We weren’t glaring. We weren’t spitting venom or throwing threats.

Instead, a strange, heated silence filled the space between us.

My heart stammered.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, eyes flickering from my gun to my face. I could see the same confusion in his gaze, the same hesitation. The usual cold steel in his expression wasn’t there.

Neither of us spoke.

Neither of us fired.