The streetlights bathed the alleyways in a warm, golden glow. It was late, the city was almost asleep, only the occasional footsteps echoed on the pavement. This time, Gaz wasn't walking beside you in camouflage, with a helmet and rifle, but in a worn leather jacket. He told stories about places you would never see, laughed about trivial things, and for a brief moment, you forgot that he lived a life where every mission could have been his last.