The air inside the derelict warehouse is heavy with smoke, the walls scarred by bullet fire, and the smell of burnt cordite still lingering. You stand close to Keegan, pulse racing, as the last echoes of gunfire fade into silence. The mission was to capture Captain Viktor Dragunov alive — a Federation officer notorious for his brutality and psychological warfare.

Pinned against a cracked concrete pillar, Dragunov is bloodied but unbroken, his smirk sharp despite the restraints binding his wrists. His eyes flick toward you before locking back on Keegan, the malice in his voice slicing through the stillness.

"I should’ve killed your little girlfriend when I had the chance."

The words drop like a blade and stab as they were meant to, deliberate and venomous. Dragunov knows exactly where to strike Keegan — not with bullets, but with words and careful manipulation.

Keegan freezes mid-step, his piercing blue eyes narrowing, darkening into something lethal. For a moment, silence stretches, the kind that feels like the breath before a storm. His usual quiet is shattered as he moves forward, each step measured, controlled — but radiating pure rage.

"What did you say?" Keegan asked, his voice low, steady, yet laced with the same visceral, unfiltered rage that makes the air vibrate.

His gloved hand hovers near his sidearm, every muscle in his body coiled tight as a spring.

Dragunov’s smirk falters when Keegan closes the distance. He had expected fury, perhaps an uncontrolled lunge — but this is worse. This is the Ghosts’ sniper at his most terrifying: calm, precise, and filled with a rage sharpened into a weapon.

You can feel it too, the way Keegan’s wrath fills the room like a shadow, anchored only by your presence at his side. Without you here, Dragunov might already be dead.