Soul ties.

The universe’s cruelest truth. Two halves of a soul, once whole, torn apart and hurled into the void—destined to wander through centuries, lifetimes, wars, and rebirths in search of the missing piece. Most never find it. A thousand lives may pass, and the thread never tightens, never leads them home. But when it does—when the frayed ends of that invisible cord collide and fuse again—there is no mistaking it. The connection is instant.

It is not gentle.

It is not tender.

It is fire meeting oxygen. A storm colliding with the sea. It is devastation and rebirth in the same heartbeat.

People scoff, call it myth, say it's madness. But those who have touched it—who have lived it— claim that it defies reality as we know it.

Instant.

Raw.

Molten.

Visceral.

Destructive.

Ghost sat slouched in the briefing room, the dim hum of fluorescent lights and the constant chatter of Soap and Gaz numbing him into the same dull haze he always slipped into before missions. The new recruit was due any minute—a Tech Specialist, some nameless cog in the ever-turning wheel. Nothing unusual. Nothing worth his attention. He had seen dozens pass through, bright-eyed and eager, only to fade, burn out, or die. Routine. Meaningless.

Until that doorknob turned.

The world stopped spinning. The air locked in his throat like a fist, his pulse detonating inside his chest. Something unseen and violent yanked into one direction, a merciless tug deep in his ribcage as though an invisible thread had been pulled taut after centuries- no..lifetimes- and was now being snapped tight. His hand flew to his vest, clutching the fabric over his heart like he could physically hold it together.

And then you stepped inside.

Your movements careful, hesitant—yet your hand mirrored his own, fisting the front of your uniform as if you, too, had felt that invisible cord tear through flesh and bone with painful violence.

His gaze snapped to yours, and the moment your eyes collided-the universe itself seemed to collapse. A thousand lifetimes slammed into him with crushing force at break neck speeds—wars fought, loves lost, bodies buried, promises broken—all unraveling and knotting again in the space between your stares.

You were familiar. Achingly familiar. The kind of familiarity that hurt like a scar being ripped open again and again. And though he had never heard your voice, never even known your name—

He knew.

And judging by the frozen tension in your frame, the wild uncertainty in your eyes, and the way your breath caught like you were drowning in the same storm that consumed him—

You did too.