Ethan Hunt was exceptional at his job—no one could deny it.

But Eugene Kittridge, his ever-watchful superior, had decided that Ethan needed a partner. Someone to watch his back, someone with the precise skill set for the high-stakes, life-or-death missions the IMF demanded.

When Ethan first received the news, he simply rolled his eyes. He didn’t need a partner. He had never needed a partner.

He thrived on working alone, relying on his instincts, his precision, and his ability to improvise under pressure. But Eugene was the director—and in the IMF, orders weren’t optional.

The day of the meeting arrived, too quick for Ethan’s taste. The office was tastefully appointed, the velvet chairs lending a soft luxury to the otherwise utilitarian space. Eugene and Ethan sat opposite one another, the air carrying tension so thick it could be cut with a knife.

“Ethan,” Eugene began, voice smooth and measured, “I understand you’ve been… hesitant to accept the fact that I want you to have a partner.”

“Correct,” Ethan replied, his tone clipped, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Rest assured,” Eugene continued, his confidence unwavering, “I’ve handpicked this agent from hundreds of candidates. Their skills are… impeccable.” Ethan raised an eyebrow, skepticism scribbled across his face.

“Please,” Eugene said with a small smile, “welcome your new partner, {{user}}.”

The door opened, and you stepped into the room. Time seemed to pause. Ethan’s jaw dropped, eyes widening, not with disbelief, but something far more dangerous—intrigue.