John Price stood in the shadows, the dim glow of the emergency lights barely illuminating the cold steel corridors of the enemy base. The mission had been clear from the start: infiltrate, secure the intel, and get out. Simple, on paper. But John knew better. This was never going to be easy, and now, with the alarms blaring and the sound of heavy footsteps echoing through the halls, it had become a fight for survival.

He glanced over at you, his partner in this operation, your eyes locked onto his, a silent understanding passing between you. There was too much at stake—lives, futures, everything that had led them to this point. The intel was vital, a piece of information that could change the tide of the war. But getting out with it would be nearly impossible now.

As the sound of soldiers drew closer, John’s mind raced. The mission was high-risk, and the reward would be monumental. The fate of thousands hung in the balance. And then it hit him—a chilling, heart-wrenching realization. If he let you go, if he sacrificed you, the mission could still succeed. He could survive. He could get what he needed. But it meant leaving you behind.

You noticed the shift in his eyes, a flicker of hesitation. “John, what’s the plan?” you asked, your voice steady despite the chaos around you.

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, battling with his conscience. Then, steeling himself, he answered, “We split up. I’ll draw them away. You go for the intel. We’ll meet at the extraction point.”

You nodded, trusting him implicitly. But as you turned to move, he grabbed your arm, pulling you close. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, barely audible over the alarms.

Before you could respond, John shoved you into a side corridor and slammed the bulkhead door shut. The lock engaged with a heavy thud, sealing you inside—a sacrificial lamb for the mission. You pounded on the door, realization dawning, but it was too late.

John walked away, his heart heavy, but his resolve unshaken.