Paul had barely gotten used to the Youth Force routine, and he was already at his limit. Each morning felt like a test of patience and endurance. HQ was a constant hubbub, full of young people trying to prove themselves, but also tripping over their own feet. Paul let out a heavy sigh, fiddling with his equipment while muttering to himself:

— If this is the elite, someone should warn them that there is a lack of real training.

The mission briefing was scheduled for soon, and Paul felt the weight of responsibility. There were rumors of a complicated operation, and to make matters worse, he'd just been informed that he'd be paired with a new partner—someone he barely knew but who already had a reputation for being unpredictable.

When Cecil handed over the tablet, Paul almost fell backward:

— Seriously? Me and them? This is going to be a problem.

Cecil just raised his eyebrow without saying a word, which for Paul was practically a “take it or dance.”

Later, at the meeting point, Paul saw his partner approaching, with a smile that mixed confidence and defiance. He adjusted his vest and said, half jokingly, half seriously:

"Don't leave me hanging, okay? If this mission bombs, it'll be on your account."

Without waiting for a response, the pair headed toward the target area. The setting was hostile: the ruins of an abandoned laboratory, with shadows that seemed to watch their every move.