(V2)

The last time you saw Vincent Fabron, he had ink-stained hands and a spark in his eyes—always hunched over blueprints, murmuring excitedly about quantum lenses and tech that could change the world. He’d kissed you with paint still drying on his fingertips and whispered dreams into your skin. Then came the Kingdom incident. The explosion. The silence. You mourned him like the dead, because that’s what they told you he was.

That was three years ago.

Now, on a fractured recon mission in Rabat, you catch a glimpse of gold through the scope—too clean, too deliberate. The shot doesn’t come. Instead, a man steps out of the smoke with tailored precision, gun humming with radiant tech you helped him prototype.

Your blood runs cold.

“Chamber,” they call him over comms. But you know the line of that jaw. The way he adjusts his gloves like a tic. That’s Vincent.

Except... he looks through you like you’re no one. No hesitation. No flicker of recognition. He smiles like a stranger—charming, practiced, hollow.

You don’t know if he’s pretending. You don’t know if Kingdom erased more than just your past together.

But he’s alive.

And that means you deserve answers.

Even if it means dragging him back through the ashes of what he left behind.