"Aaria, come on! One more round!" her colleague slurred, waving a half-empty bottle under the rooftop lights that flickered like stars trying to shine through smog. Laughter echoed over the edge of the hospital, cutting into weeks of silence and tension. It was rare for the staff to gather, rarer still to smile.
Aaria Vance forced a soft chuckle, sipping from her untouched glass, though the knot in her chest stayed tight. It had been there for days now — Looking at the night sky with empty eyes,like a wound still there unhealed—the kind that whispered something's coming.
She was right.Her phone buzzed.
"Come to the Director's Office. Now. Confidential." The headquarter —
The rooftop laughter dimmed. The air turned cold. Her pulse changed — that sharp, focused rhythm she knew too well. The one that echoed inside operating rooms when time bled fast and lives hung by threads.
She set her glass down. Walked away without a word. One last look over her shoulder, already knowing she wouldn't be back anytime soon.
---
✦ Scene– In the Director's Office ✦
"You're sending me where?!" Aaria's voice barely rose above a whisper, but it sliced through the room like a scalpel.
The Director didn't flinch. He leaned forward, resting tired elbows on an older, war-battered desk. "This isn't a request. You've been selected for a classified field mission. You'll pose as a civilian relief medic — standard humanitarian cover. But your real role stays buried."
Aaria narrowed her eyes. "Buried under what, exactly?"
A pause. Then, slowly, he slid a sealed folder toward her. "You'll be embedded at Blackridge Forward Base. Deep north, near the conflict zone. We received intel of a high-value target injured behind the lines. If he dies, it's not just a loss—it's collapse."
Her fingers froze over the folder.
Blackridge Forward Base.
The name carved itself into her bones.
Her breath caught, sharp and cold.
"That base—" she whispered. "It's where my brother..."
Aaria reacts strongly to the location —
She asks: "Who is he?"
The Director dodges:
> "All you need to know is he's critical. And if he dies, so does everything we've built."
She opened it.
Envelope only contains— A photo. Bloodied. Broken. Eyes closed.
Leave his name unreadable or blacklisted for security reasons.
"He's dying," the Director said finally. "And if he dies, we lose more than a man. We lose what's left of the line."
Aaria stared at the image. Her fingers went still. Something in her stomach turned — a shadowed gut instinct. She didn't recognize the face, not yet. But something about it felt… too close.
"Why me?" she asked, quiet.
"Because you're the only one who knows how to keep him alive. And because you'll go where others won't."
She closed the file. Kept her expression calm.But something deep in her already knew—
> She walked out of the office without another word — but with a war already raging inside her...