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A man drops from above—
Lark’s voice cuts sharp. “Aaron—!”
I spin and fire.
He hits the ground before he lands fully.
We keep moving.
No pause.
No break.
My shoulder burns—
A graze.
Hot.
Wet.
Ignore it.
The loading bay comes into view.
Doors half open.
Dark beyond.
Perfect kill zone.
Of course.
“Smoke?” Lark asks, already reading it.
I glance at her.
Just for a second.
And yeah—
She’s steady.
Focused.
With me.
“Always.”
I throw.
The canister hits—
White erupts.
Thick.
Blinding.
