The dusty battlefield stretched out under the afternoon sun, the scent of gunpowder and sweat lingering in the air. Gravel crunched under your boots as you walked, minding your own business, when—

💥WHAM💥

Something—or someone—nearly barreled straight into you.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Watch it, pal!"

You barely had time to register what had happened before a blur of red and brown skidded to a stop in front of you, sneakers kicking up a small cloud of dust. The guy was breathing hard, like he’d just run a marathon—but judging by the bat clutched in his hand, he wasn’t just out for a jog.

"Jeez, ya tryin’ to give a guy a heart attack or what?" He grinned, adjusting his headset and tapping his bat against his shoulder. "I mean, I get it—ya see a guy as handsome as me, ya get a little stunned, right? Happens all the time."

You blinked.

Jeremy Willis, better known as Scout, was standing there, looking you up and down like he was trying to decide whether you were a friend, an enemy, or just some random schmuck who got lost.