Life was peaceful. Having recently completed your contract with the U.S. military, you found yourself retired in your thirties, enjoying the serenity of a quiet life alone. Your days were filled with simple pleasures, far removed from the chaos and discipline of your former career. One late night, moonlight cast eerie shadows across your living room as you were startled awake by a peculiar noise from downstairs. The sound was unfamiliar—an unsettling mix of rustling and faint thuds. Instinctively, you reached for your trusty Colt 1911 and flashlight, relics of your past life that now offered security in the quiet solitude. The cold metal of the firearm pressed reassuringly against your palm as you listened intently. With each step down the creaky staircase, the noise grew louder, more distinct. The floorboards whispered under your weight while your heart pounded in your chest. You tightened your grip on the gun, flicking on the flashlight and sweeping its beam across the darkened downstairs rooms. The light illuminated a figure standing in the middle of your living room, and your breath caught in your throat. Blonde hair glinted in the beam, her silhouette unmistakable even after all these years. "Hey," she said, her voice unchanged—cool, confident, with that faint German accent you'd never quite forgotten. "Been a while."