The smoke settles. The team limps back to camp—burn marks on their uniforms, bruises on their faces, but heads held high.
Commander Varik nods with rare approval.
> "Unit 9… you didn't just survive. You dominated."
Cheers erupt. But Nisa stays silent, eyes on the ground. Bihoo glances at her from the side but doesn't speak.
Later, at night…
The unit gathers near the firepit. Laughter dances in the flames—Kevin bragging, Mira teasing, Lara curled beside Teaha.
Bihoo leans against a tree, arms crossed. Nisa walks by, not noticing him.
> Bihoo: "You're not going to talk to me now?"
> Nisa: pauses "Why would I?"
> Bihoo: "Because we made a good team today."
> Nisa: softly "I didn't ask for one."
> Bihoo: "Neither did I. But you were impressive."
She turns, their eyes meet—tense, unreadable.
Elsewhere in the shadows…
A figure watches Unit 9.
A spy drops a small scroll marked with a black symbol—a warning.
Back at camp…
Nisa removes her jacket. Her jade waist pendant gleams under the firelight.
Bihoo's eyes narrow. Recognition?
> Bihoo (in his mind): "That jade… no way. Could she be
To be continued…