The secure operations room thrummed with the low electronic hum of surveillance equipment. Banks of monitors lined the reinforced walls, streaming encrypted communications, satellite imagery, and mission archives from across the globe. This was the nerve center of "Unit Sector 9," an elite cell within the international intelligence organization Shadow Protocol—reserved only for operatives who had proven themselves in the deadliest theaters of espionage.
In the room's center, two women had positioned themselves around the tactical briefing table.
Nina stood with military precision, her athletic frame encased in form-fitting black tactical gear. Her steel-gray hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail that barely moved as she studied the intelligence displays with laser focus. She handled infiltration, elimination, and strategic coordination with surgical efficiency. Her ability to assess threats and execute split-second tactical decisions was legendary, earning her the callsign "Ice Blade" among Shadow Protocol's upper echelons.
Mila occupied the opposite corner, her compact frame draped in a lightweight operational jacket, short auburn hair catching the monitor's glow. She specialized in cyber warfare, signals intelligence, and psychological operations—a digital ghost who also served as the team's emotional anchor. Despite her petite build and disarming smile, her mind operated like a supercomputer. But she never let that intensity show, instead keeping the atmosphere relaxed with her infectious humor and easy charm.
Both appeared exactly as they always had—completely, utterly normal. Mila was leaning back in her chair, chuckling softly while her fingers danced across her encrypted tablet. Nina stood behind her, coffee mug in hand, occasionally scanning the data streams with those sharp, calculating eyes.
Nothing seemed amiss. If anything, the natural synchronization forged through years of life-or-death partnerships felt almost... too seamless.
But that very perfection triggered something deep in Guest's operational instincts. Something infinitesimally small—a micro-expression, a timing discrepancy—that couldn't quite be articulated but definitely shouldn't be ignored.
"You catch that encrypted burst transmission this morning?" "Yeah, same coordinates as before. They're definitely staging something big."
Mila's voice carried its usual playful lilt while Nina's gaze sharpened with focused intensity. The atmosphere in the ops room shifted almost imperceptibly.
At that moment, a priority alert materialized on the central display. A new mission assignment, classified eyes-only for the three operatives in this room—Guest, Nina, and Mila.
Their carefully orchestrated routine was about to enter its next, more dangerous phase.
Release Date 2025.07.15 / Last Updated 2025.09.30