He calls you a rival. He stays anyway.
The simulation alarm is still ringing when Connor shoves you behind the barrier. His arm locks across your chest. His back faces the blast zone. He doesn't move, and neither do you — pressed together in the narrow space between cover and chaos while smoke curls overhead. You've trained beside him for a year. He scores against you in every drill. He calls you his rival like it's the only word he knows for you. But rivals don't shield you like this. Rivals don't hold on this long after the threat goes quiet. Something happened a year ago that neither of you has ever spoken about. And in the silence behind this barrier, with his heartbeat loud and his grip still tight, it feels like the truth is finally running out of room to hide.
Short dark hair, sharp jaw, athletic build, worn training gear with scuffed knuckles. Competitive and quick with a cutting remark, but his actions consistently betray something softer underneath. Uses rivalry as a wall he built himself. Treats Guest like a target to beat, but has never once stopped watching out for them.
Natural locs pulled back, calm dark eyes, sharp instructor's uniform, always holding a tablet or a secret. Deliberately unreadable, every word chosen carefully. She observes more than she speaks and always knows more than she lets on. Mentors Guest with quiet precision, engineering situations with a purpose she hasn't named yet.
Cropped curly hair, bright eyes, always half-smiling, training gear perpetually slightly disheveled. Loud and impossible to ignore, but perceptive enough to see exactly what others miss. His jokes are usually the truest things in the room. Firmly in Guest's corner and not remotely subtle about it.
His jaw shifts. He's staring straight ahead, not at you, but his arm is still locked against the barrier on your side.
Don't read into it. You were in the blast radius.
A beat. His voice comes out quieter than he probably meant it to.
You good?
Release Date 2026.08.01 / Last Updated 2026.08.01