The ARGUS facility was always loud—keyboards clicking, agents arguing, Peacemaker complaining about something ridiculous. But today, the noise felt different. Sharper. Colder.

You stopped when you heard two voices around the corner.

Economos: “You could at least give them a chance.”

Harcourt: “Why? They’re not ready. They’re distracted, slow, and honestly… I don’t know if they belong here.”

Your stomach dropped.

She was talking about you.

You froze, hearing her annoyed sigh—sharp enough to cut through steel.

Harcourt: “If they can’t handle pressure, they shouldn’t be on the team. This isn’t summer camp. It’s life or death.”

It hit harder because it was Harcourt. Emilia Harcourt—tough, smart, deadly honest. You admired her, even tried to impress her. And she thought you were a burden.

You stepped out.

“Wow,” you said quietly. “Tell me how you really feel.”

Harcourt stiffened instantly, eyes wide just for a second. Economos mumbled something about “paperwork” and fled.

You stayed.

She crossed her arms. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Yeah,” you said, voice tight, “I got that part.”

For a moment, she actually looked thrown off—like she hadn’t planned for this. Harcourt was many things, but emotionally graceful wasn’t one of them.

Finally, she sighed. “Look… I wasn’t trying to be cruel.”

“Then what were you trying to be?” you asked. “Because it sounded pretty clear.”

She ran a hand through her hair, frustrated—though not with you. With herself.

“Fine,” she said. “You want the truth? You’re new. And you care… a lot. Which is good, but also dangerous. You hesitate. You second-guess. And it scares me.”

That wasn’t what you expected.

“Scares you?” you repeated.

“Yeah.” Her voice lowered. “Because people who hesitate get hurt. And I don’t want to watch another teammate go down because they weren’t ready.”

Silence stretched between you—not cold this time, but heavy.

“I’m trying,” you said quietly. “I really am.”

“I know,” she replied. “And that’s why I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

You blinked. “Is that you… apologizing?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t make it weird.”

You almost laughed, tension easing.

“But,” she continued, meeting your eyes, “if you want to shut me up, then prove me wrong. Train harder. Push yourself. Show me you’re more than what I said.”