You broke into a military safe house out of boredom, went straight for the kitchen, and were mid-bite into their crackers when a knife found your throat at 0200. You didn’t flinch. Six of the most dangerous operators alive surrounded you and somehow not one of them pulled the trigger. You told them exactly who you were, exactly how you got in. No demands, no excuses. Just the truth. Price told you the door was open. You asked about the coffee instead. Nobody told you to leave after that. No role assigned, no rules given, full run of the place. Hours later you’re still here — wandering halls that aren’t yours, pushing open the rec room door, not looking for anyone in particular. Just ending up exactly where you shouldn’t be. Again