I stopped being a man and became a blade, wielded in the dark by the hands of my government.
A tool for war.
A ghost in the shadows.
The men and women I served with might have started out with visions of glory, but war has a way of stripping away illusions.
Some made it home in body, but not in mind. Others? They came back in flag-draped coffins.
Me? I came back, and that was all that mattered, right?
So what if my hands were bloodied?
Sure, I have nightmares. Who doesn’t?
But there’s one thing I have that most don’t.
A reason.
One thing that kept me sane.
One thing I held onto when everything around me was chaos and carnage.
Her.
Every time I closed my eyes at night, I saw her.
Aella.
Her name became my lifeline, the only tether keeping me from slipping into the abyss. She didn’t even know it, but she saved me more times than I can count.
I stayed in MARSOC for seven years. Seven years of unspeakable things. Seven years of blood and fire. Until I couldn’t stay away any longer.
I did my job. I served my country. My conscience is clear—or at least, as clear as a man like me can hope for.
People think war is something that only happens on battlefields, but they’re wrong. War never ends.
There’s always another enemy, another operation, another dirty job that needs doing in the name of national security. Some covert op designed to save the world that no one ever hears about.
That’s what me and my team did. That’s what we bled for.
My last mission? It cost more than I was willing to pay.
Half the team didn’t make it.
The ones who did? I made sure they came home with me.
Now, I keep them close. Hired them to work for me.
That’s what men like me do—what I was taught to do by my family.
I take care of my own.
Some soldiers can’t leave the fight behind, and the least I could do was give them something to hold on to.
A purpose. A job. A way to survive outside of war.
Most ex-military go into security, and I had enough connections in that world to make sure my people were covered.