Horangi sat on the edge of his bunk, his gear spread out in front of him, methodically cleaning each piece with precision. The barracks were usually quiet, the kind of stillness he appreciated after a long mission. He preferred the solitude of his space, where he could focus without distraction.

The sound of boots on the concrete floor broke his concentration. The door creaked open, and in walked a new face — his new roommate, dressed in full tactical gear, her expression a mix of determination and curiosity. She carried a duffel bag over her shoulder, glancing around the small room with a practiced eye.

It was her, he assumed. She was the new transfer, fresh to the team, and now assigned to share his space.

Without a word, she set the bag down beside the second bunk. Her movements were swift, methodical—like she was already at home in a world of constant motion. The silence between them stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Horangi didn’t expect a grand introduction. They weren’t here for pleasantries. She wasn’t here to make noise, and he wasn’t one to seek conversation unless necessary.

She dropped her bag, then moved to the top bunk, climbing up with ease. Horangi gave a slight glance in her direction, acknowledging the unspoken understanding that had already formed between them. There were no words, just the quiet efficiency of two soldiers, each with their own way of dealing with the chaos outside.

She unpacked with practiced ease, settling into her space without disturbing the quiet rhythm Horangi had grown accustomed to. The only sound was the rustle of fabric, the soft clink of gear, and the distant hum of the barracks.

They would make a good team, he thought. The silence, the unspoken respect—they both understood it well. It didn’t need to be said.