The Division 2 Agent Origins
Agent Haze
*Click* *Click*
That's the sound a gun makes when the last round has left the chamber. Usually it means death. But sometimes miracles do happen and by sheer luck everything can turn better. This was not one of those moments.
*BLAM*
The combatant stood still before collapsing with a huge hole on their head. As the light went out in their shining green eyes one could almost see a lifetime of goals and desires slipping away into the eternal abyss of death which had claimed the person the second their firearm had betrayed them.
A sigh was heard. In the still of the night, the other party stepped out from behind the great oak tree that had served as their cover. Slim but calloused hands caressed the bullet-filled bark as they stepped out into the bright moonlight to inspect the victim. A brown pair of eyes stared at the green which would never stare back again. They inspected the open mouth, frozen agape from panic, that would never again shout profanities across the street. The person breathed in. And then out, the flow of adrenaline slowing down and their heart rate calming.
Only then did the sounds of the city return. The still silence was occasionally broken by a single bird or an explosion which signified the start of another fight a couple blocks east. The person also became aware of the whirring above their head. Damn. They'd almost forgotten. A few beeps later the whirring stopped and the signature blue light coating them died out, with only the moonlight blanketing the lone figure and their victim. Sorry, I mean victims. If one looked close enough, they could see more bodies scattered around the abandoned street, each with their own looks of horror frozen to their faces, their own pasts and futures rapidly escaping them. The person looked around, inspecting the bloodbath they had created. It was unfair. They had been outnumbered. They should be dead. But the power they had been granted had helped them prevail. This was the reality they lived in. This was their city. This was their life, and their own foreseeable future, created by a madman and established by many more.
Damn. Radio chatter. He must want to know what had happened. What they'd been up to. And right in the middle of their silent moment. No ambushes. No missions. No responsibilities, at least at this moment. Was that too much to ask?
He's persistent. But he means well. Ortega is a good man, always putting others before himself. Come on, you're making him sick with worry. ISAC tells him your vitals are well, so why aren't you responding? What is wrong? Do you need help? These are the thoughts running through his head, and all because you're too uncaring to respond. Whatever. An agent's duty is never done might as well get back to it. A light tap to the ear is all it takes to activate the comms. All it takes to pull them, pull her back to the world anyone would wish to leave behind as easily as the green-eyed victim who faced her wrath earlier.
"Agent Haze here. All is well, just enjoying the night air. What's up?"
She can almost feel the smile and a wave of relief forming on Mannys face. They had lost so much already. They couldn't lose Fraser too. He said this all without speaking a word, but she understood. Just like every one of them understood.
"Kept me waiting, huh, Jess? Get back here, you dreamer, we have new intel," the voice she'd come to know so well during these last few weeks responded.
"Copy that. Haze, out."
The first few steps were the hardest. Getting back up after stopping was always the most painful when all you wanted to do was lie down and rest. But as the night swallowed Jessica Aino Fraser once more, any observer could have spotted a pleasant smile forcing itself back to her face. Sure, this was hell. But it was a hell she had signed up for, a hell every SHD agent was a part of. And they would battle every demon within it until it would freeze over.