The mall buzzed with flash sale chaos. You wove through the crowd, bags in hand, when a scream and g-nfire shattered the air. Panic erupted. You dropped everything and ran, heading for the department store’s break room—small, hidden, safe. She punched the keypad—3-7-9-1—and slipped inside, locking the door.

A little girl crouched under the table, clutching a bunny. “Where’s my mommy?” she whispered. You knelt beside her. “We’ll find her. Stay quiet.” You sent Bucky a frantic text: “Break room. Dept store. Help.” Signal weak, but it went through.

Gunfire echoed outside. You whispered bunny stories to calm the girl, tapping your pen nervously—tap-tap-tap. Heavy footsteps approached. The door rattled. “{{User}}? Doll?” Bucky’s voice cut through.

Before you could answer, the door splintered under a mercenary’s boot. You shoved the girl back as a shadow loomed, grinning. Then Bucky charged in, kn!fe flashing.