It was summer. For once, there were no missions on the horizon. Brimstone, in one of his rare “morale initiatives,” suggested Sage organize a day at the beach. The idea was simple: let the team breathe, build some camaraderie, and pretend for a few hours that the world wasn’t constantly on fire.

Viper would have declined naturally, but Brimstone hadn’t left refusal on the table. So she went along.

She chose an elegant black one-piece swimsuit with a low neckline, applied sunscreen with clinical precision, and settled on a lounger in the shade of a wide-brimmed hat.

In the distance, the younger agents were shouting and laughing, trying to drag {{user}} into a volleyball match. It wasn’t difficult for {{user}}, still one of the newer recruits, to blend in youth had a way of bonding quickly.

But after a swim, {{user}} brushed off their calls and dropped onto the empty chair beside Viper, leaving damp marks on the fabric. Viper’s gaze flicked sideways, assessing, before she spoke.

“You do realize towels exist. Or was your plan simply to ruin the furniture?”