It's been such a long time since I've been here.

Bingo stepped off the plane, the faint hum of engines and the murmur of tired travelers filling the air around her. She adjusted the strap of her backpack, wearing a dark blue t-shirt with grey sweats and white sneakers—comfortable but unassuming. The terminal buzzed with life, yet she felt oddly detached, her eyes scanning the crowds without really seeing them.

A quick montage of her collecting her belongings played out in quiet efficiency. Grabbing her carry-on, waiting in line for her checked bags, and weaving through the flow of people toward the exit. The click of her luggage wheels echoed faintly on the airport tiles, a sound she hadn't realized she'd missed.

As she stepped through the sliding glass doors, the warm Brisbane air hit her, soft and humid, carrying faint hints of eucalyptus and the distant saltiness of the ocean. For a moment, she just stood there, taking it all in—the wide, open sky, the chatter of voices, and the distant whirr of cars.

It feels like foreign territory, but… it feels so good to be back home.

At the rental desk, Bingo collected the keys to her sedan, her movements automatic. She tossed her luggage into the trunk, slamming it shut with a satisfying thud. Sliding into the driver's seat, she gripped the steering wheel tightly, the leather cool against her palms.

The streets of Brisbane stretched out before her like a familiar song she hadn't heard in years. Her heart clenched with a strange mix of nostalgia and unease.

She had set up her Bluetooth with the car, tapping on the screen with a familiar ease. Her fingers lingered over the playlist before she finally settled on one of her favorite songs.

"Walking on a Dream" by Empire of the Sun

The soft beats filled the car as the song began. The lyrics, the melody—it was like the world was wrapping itself around her in a way she didn't expect.

"Walking on a dream

How can I explain?

Talking to myself

Will I see again?"

Bingo put the car into drive, her foot lightly pressing the pedal. She wasn't in a rush, but the familiar rhythm of the song seemed to sync with the steady hum of the engine. As she cruised through the streets of Brisbane, the memories started flooding in.

She passed The Hammerbarn, the orange storefront as vivid as it had been when she and Bluey spent hours arguing over silly things. A soft, bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. It was funny how a place like this, something so mundane, could hold so much history.

Then she passed her and Bluey's old childhood elementary school, and her heart gave a little lurch. The building seemed to stand still while everything else around her had moved forward. She remembered Bluey's giggle as she ran towards the gates, arms flailing.

The next turn led her past the park they used to play in—her and Bluey, Bandit watching from a distance while Chilli sat nearby, reading a book. The same swings creaked in the breeze, but now, it felt as though the place was out of sync with who she had become. That park was supposed to be her anchor to simpler times, but now it only felt like a ghost.

As "Walking on a Dream" played on, Bingo found herself tapping her finger on the wheel, a deep ache settling in her chest. The words hit harder now, her voice almost a whisper in the car:

"We are always running for the thrill of it, thrill of it

Always pushing up the hill, searching for the thrill of it

On and on and on we are calling out and out again

Never looking down, I'm just in awe of what's in front of me…"

Her eyes caught a glimpse of the road ahead. The city stretched out before her, full of so many roads she never thought she'd walk again. And yet, here she was, driving through it all like nothing had changed.

But everything had changed. The streets had been the same, but she wasn't the same Bingo who'd left them. Her grip tightened on the steering wheel as the memories clashed with the weight of her current life.

She was running, just like the song said. But where to? And would she ever be able to stop?

This song is hitting me hard… but, not as hard as what I'm seeing right now.

Bingo slowly pulled into the familiar neighborhood, that old cul-de-sac where she'd spent her childhood. She hadn't realized how much time had passed since she was last here. In the distance, her old home—the Heeler House—came into view, looking almost exactly as it had when she left. In the driveway sat Bobo, her family's old car, parked beside a small blue sedan she immediately recognized as Bluey's.

Holy shit.

She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment.

Okay, Bingo, keep yourself together.

The car rolled to a stop in the driveway. Her heart pounded in her chest as she turned off the engine, staring at the house. It was like stepping into a dream and waking up at the same time, seeing everything and nothing at once. She wasn't sure what to feel.

After a long moment of hesitation, Bingo finally opened the car door, grabbed her bags, and made her way toward the familiar steps of the house. She couldn't believe she was here. She hadn't walked up these stairs in so long, but now it felt like she was just a kid again.

What do I even say?

*"Hello, family"? No, too robotic.

*"Sup folks"? Nah, too casual.

"Well howdy!"

Bingo nearly laughed to herself. What the hell am I thinking?

She stopped at the door, inhaling slowly, trying to steady her nerves. The soft scent of home filled her senses—warm wood, the faint scent of cooking in the kitchen. She knocked three times.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Coming!" A voice she knew too well rang from the other side. Bingo could hear the sound of footsteps, soft and light. The door creaked open, and there stood Bluey—22 years old, her eyes wide with excitement, her tail wagging furiously. Bluey wore a white shirt with a festive Christmas tree print on it, paired with dark red sweatpants. She was glowing.

"BINGO, OH MY GOD!" Bluey shouted, rushing forward and wrapping her little sister in an exuberant hug. Bingo froze for a moment, overwhelmed by the warmth of the embrace.

She felt herself relax, the tension leaving her shoulders as she returned the hug, smiling as she giggled like she hadn't in years. "I missed you too, Bluey…" Bingo chuckled, her voice soft but genuine. "You're… squeezing the air outta me, though."

"Oh!" Bluey quickly let go, laughing sheepishly. "Sorry, sis!" She pulled back a little, still beaming.

Bingo couldn't help but smile.

Goddamn, sis, where'd that strength come from? but... I couldn't remember the last time I felt this at home.

"Come inside, sis! Mum and Dad are waiting for ya!" Bluey grabbed Bingo's suitcase without hesitation, her grin widening. "I'll help with your things!"

"Bluey, you don't have to help me—" Bingo started to protest, but before she could finish, Bluey cut her off with a playful smirk.

"Ziiiiiip it! I'm gonna help you whether you like it or not! In you go!"

With a gentle but insistent push, Bluey nudged Bingo inside the Heeler house. Bingo's eyes widened as she stepped through the door, taking in the familiar sights that she hadn't seen in so long. The living room, the worn couch, the kitchen just down the hall—it was all so normal, yet it felt like she was walking into a dream. The space was warm and lived-in, and suddenly, a rush of nostalgia hit her like a tidal wave. She was home, but she wasn't sure what "home" meant anymore.

Bluey, already several steps ahead, was carrying Bingo's suitcase to her old room with a cheerfulness that made Bingo's heartache.

Bingo lingered for a moment in the doorway, her gaze drifting from the cozy living room to the framed pictures of her family on the walls, the soft hum of conversation coming from the kitchen. She swallowed hard, trying to steady herself.

This is real. This is happening.

"Oh my goodness, Bingo?!"

"Oi! There she is!"

Bingo's thoughts were interrupted as she turned to see her parents, Chilli and Bandit, emerging from the kitchen. Their eyes softened with love and pride at the sight of their youngest child, and for a moment, everything else in the world faded away.

Chilli was the first to reach her, a warm, welcoming smile spreading across her face. Though she was older now, there was a grace to her that time hadn't taken away. Her fur, once a vibrant mix of orange and brown, had started to turn grey at the temples, and her once sharp vision was now supported by glasses that perched carefully on her nose.

Bandit, ever the burly blue heeler, was a little slower but still radiated the strength and presence of a father who'd always been the rock of their family. His fur had taken on the salt-and-pepper look of age, but his broad frame still exudes that unmistakable dad energy. He'd never lost the dad gut, either, something Bingo and Bluey had loved teasing him about when they were kids. But it was a part of him they loved—the reminder that he was the same Bandit who'd carried them on his shoulders and always made them laugh.

The couple was dressed in matching Christmas sweaters—Chilli's with a gentle reindeer motif, and Bandit's proudly displaying a jolly Santa. Both wore plaid red-and-green pants, the sort that had become a staple in their family holiday wardrobe. The sight of them, so comfortable and familiar, made Bingo's chest tighten with emotion.

"Mum… Dad…" Bingo managed to whisper, her voice barely audible as her parents enveloped her in a tight, loving embrace. Their tails wagged in rhythm with their smiles. "I've missed you guys so much…"

Fuck… am I crying?

Bingo could feel the unmistakable sting of tears in her eyes, and sure enough, they began to spill. She tried to blink them back, but it was no use.

I'm going soft, damn it…

But she wasn't the only one. Chilli, too, was crying, her eyes glistening with the tears of joy only a mother could know. "I've missed you so so much… Oh, I was so worried about you being out there in Melbourne all alone!" She squeezed Bingo tighter, as if trying to make up for all the time they'd lost.

Bandit, ever the laid-back dad, rolled his eyes with a playful smirk. "Chilli, both of our girls are grown women now! They can handle themselves just fine, love. They're tough—just like their old man." He flexed his muscles, making a show of it, and Bingo couldn't help but laugh, even through the flood of emotions.

Chilli broke the hug reluctantly, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, chuckling at Bandit's antics. "I know… it's just… it feels like yesterday when you were five and Bluey was seven. The two of you playing silly games with your dad…" She sniffled, and Bingo could feel her heart aching at the thought of their childhood. "Oh, you two are growing up so fast…"

"Oh, Mum…" Bingo whispered, pulling her mother back into her arms, rocking gently as they clung to one another. The weight of everything—the years, the distance, the pain, and now, the joy—seemed to settle into that moment, wrapping around them both.

Bandit, watching the tender scene, rolled his eyes jokingly. "Women. Always emotional." His voice was filled with affectionate teasing, but the warmth in his eyes betrayed the softness he never showed the world.

Bluey would come downstairs with a smile on her face, "Bingo! I've put your stuff in your-" she would stop, seeing the sight of Bingo and Chilli hugging, making her heart swell with emotion. "Aw.."

Chilli and Bingo would break their hug.

"Are you hungry Bingo? I was just getting finished with making Brekkie, I'm making some pancakes, eggs, sausage, oats.. something big, just for your return."

That sounds so good…

"Well… I am a tad hungry." Bingo admitted.

"Well don't be a stranger dear, come eat!" Chilli walked back into the kitchen, as did Bluey and Bandit, all of them sitting at the kitchen table while Chilli started to serve breakfast.

It's… been so long since I've eaten with my family. This really beats eating a hot pocket alone at my place, after a night of killing.

Soon, the family would all eat, talking about things that happened recently in their lives, it went from Bandit, to Chilli, to Bluey.. and then to Bingo.

"So, how's your office job been Bingo? Anything exciting happened out there in Melbourne?" Bandit asked before taking a sip of coffee

Shit.. put me on the spot why don't you, Dad?

"Well uhm.. nah, not really. Nothing too exciting." She lied, cutting her pancake with precision.

An office job.. can't believe I told them I work at an office. So cliche. Why don't you tell them that you slice and dice people like butter, Bingo?

"Well duh! You work in an office! It's not gonna be exciting at all!" Bluey chimed in, smirking deviously. "Have youuuu… found yourself a boyfriend yet?"

Bingo's eyes went wide, Chilli giggled, and Bandit looked at Bingo with fatherly concern.

"Bluey, don't pressure Bingo into saying that." Chilli answered.

"No, I wanna hear this!" Bandit chimed in, "Do you have a boyfriend, Bingo? Hmmm?" He raised a brow.

"Dad! Just relax, okay? I do NOT have a boyfriend… so just ease up, don't get your blood pressure up big fella." The red heeler jested, picking up a piece of her pancake with her fork.

"Don't call me big fella." Bandit rolled his eyes, "But remember what I told you girls!"

Bluey and Bingo rolled their eyes.

"Stay single, stay celibate, stay safe." They both spoke in unison, ever so mundane with the delivery.

I cannot believe he actually told us this when we were like, in what? Highschool? He's overprotective as hell, but he's a father of two girls. Who can blame him?

"Those are my girls." Bandit smiled as he sipped more coffee.

Okay, the single part? Yeah I've been following that.. the celibate part? Nope. The safe part? HELL no. Thank god he doesn't know what I really do. He and mum both would have a heart attack.

"So this office job, what's the company's name?" Chilli asked, raising an eyebrow, her gaze focused on Bingo. "You've been there for, like, what? Two years, and you've never told us about it."

Oh shit. Bingo's heart skipped a beat. She's not buying it.

Bingo froze, trying to keep her cool as she felt the pressure of her mother's sharp eyes on her.

What the hell do I say now?

Her mind raced, desperately trying to come up with a convincing answer.

Think, Bingo. You've got this.

"Well, uh…" Bingo took a slow bite of her pancake, stalling for time. "It's, um, a tech company. Really big on spreadsheets. Y'know… very cutting edge." She smiled awkwardly, hoping to move the conversation along.

Chilli's eyebrow shot up. "Tech company? Really? And you never told us about it? What's the name, Bingo?"

God, she's not buying this for a second.

Bingo's brain went into overdrive, her eyes darting around the kitchen.

I should've just told them the truth. Mercenary. Hitman. Maybe even an assassin for hire… something believable.

"Uh… well, it's a, um… pretty exclusive place," Bingo said, now digging herself deeper. "You wouldn't know it, mum. They're kind of… under the radar. Very high-tech, you know?"

Chilli's eyes narrowed, but her tone remained casual. "Uh-huh. And what kind of tech exactly?"

Bingo's fork clinked on her plate as she set it down. She gave a nervous laugh. "Oh, you know. Very… techie stuff." She couldn't stop herself from fidgeting, her hands clammy. "Real exciting, I swear."

Chilli studied her for a long moment, her gaze lingering a little too long before she shook her head with a knowing smile. "Alright, Bingo. If you say so."

Bingo let out a silent breath of relief, but the relief didn't last long. She was pretty sure Chilli wasn't buying her 'tech company' story—but at least she was letting it go for now.

Phew…

"Maybe one day we could go out to see you and you can show us this tech company." Bandit said, trying to ease the tension in the room.

Oh, fantastic. Great idea, Dad Bingo thought sarcastically.

Maybe I can just give them a tour of Melbourne's back alleys and show them where I sharpen my knives between jobs! Wonderful!

Bingo's chest tightened as she tried to think of a way out of this. Her heart raced, but she forced herself to keep her expression neutral. "Um… I don't know," she said, attempting a breezy tone. "I'm usually pretty busy with… other stuff." She gestured vaguely with her fork as if stuff were a sufficient explanation. "I was lucky to even find the time to come back and see you all."

That felt weak even to her. She needed to redirect the conversation—fast. "Plus," she added quickly, with a nervous laugh, "it's just an office. You'd probably be bored to tears seeing it. Lots of computers, spreadsheets… not exactly thrilling."

Bluey smirked from across the table. "So thrilling you didn't even tell us the name!" she teased.

"Bluey," Chilli said gently, giving her eldest daughter a nudge, though the corners of her mouth twitched with a smile.

Bingo stabbed at her pancake with a bit more force than necessary, her fork squeaking on the plate.

Okay, I can't tell them the truth, obviously. But if this keeps up, I'm gonna need a better cover story. Maybe I should've gone with… I don't know… wedding planning or daycare. Literally anything but 'office work.'

"Alright, alright," Bandit said, holding up his hands. "We'll drop it for now. But I think a visit to Melbourne is overdue. Right, Chilli?"

Chilli hummed in agreement. "It would be nice to see where you've been living all this time, Bingo. Maybe after the holidays?"

Bingo swallowed hard, smiling through her panic. "Y-yeah... Maybe."

Oh, great. Now I have to figure out how to fake an entire office setup. Or convince them I've suddenly transferred to Antarctica. That's a thing, right? Do people just… work in Antarctica?

Bluey raised an eyebrow, watching Bingo's subtle squirming, but said nothing. For now.

Man, this was gonna be a challenging couple of days.

….

"Brisbane's underground… eh, Melbourne's is better."

Archer strode through Kill Haven, the coastal-themed hub of Brisbane's underground. The upbeat music blasted from the speakers, clashing with the humid air, thick with the scent of saltwater and metal. Neon lights flickered against the wet pavement, casting distorted reflections on the booths that lined the area. The vendors here had a different vibe—fewer shadows and more distractions. Brightly lit stalls sold everything from custom weapons to shady cybernetic mods called 'augmentations'. But even in this more vibrant, open-air market, the weapons were impressive.

Archer didn't look like the type to blend in with the crowd. With his dark red dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves, showing off his toned arms, and a black tie tightly knotted at his neck, he exuded an air of calculated confidence. His black jeans fit him like a second skin, paired with polished black dress shoes that clicked sharply with every step. The black widow tattoo on his neck stood out, a silent reminder of his affiliation and the deadly path he walked. His athletic build made him appear more than capable of handling himself in a fight, and he moved through the marketplace with a predator's ease, his presence undeniable.

In one hand, he held up a photo of a particular Red Heeler, the face of someone he'd been hunting—Knives. He approached the nearest mercenary behind a weapons booth, his eyes cold as he slid the photo closer. "You know this bitch?" He asked flatly. "Her name's Knives. She's from here."

The mercenary glanced at the photo briefly before shaking his head. "Sorry mate, don't know her."

Archer let out a frustrated scoff, the Dingo's lip curling in annoyance as he pocketed the photo again. "Fuckin' hell… this is harder than I thought."

He scanned the crowd again, his hands brushing the sides of his pants, adjusting his tie as if the action could calm the tightness in his chest. Archer's frustration was palpable, but it was buried beneath a layer of control—this wasn't his first hunt, and it wouldn't be the last. Without a word, he made his way toward a nearby building—towering and looming with stacks of information, the place where rumors were traded like currency.

As he stepped inside, the cool, sterile air of the building hit him, the dim lights casting long shadows across rows of desks and files. His boots echoed against the concrete floor as he approached the main desk, where a figure sat hunched over, scribbling something into a notebook. The flicker of the overhead lights revealed a familiar silhouette—a masked figure, clad in black, her attire as sleek and enigmatic as the name she went by: Mirage.

Her Kitsune mask gleamed faintly in the low light, and her eyes, hidden behind the white façade, betrayed no hint of recognition. Archer studied her for a moment, the cold edge of his frustration rising again.

"You know this woman?" He asked, sliding the photo across the desk with a sharp, purposeful motion. "Her name's Knives. I'm looking for her."

Mirage's fingers froze mid-motion, her gaze flicking down at the photo, but her expression remained unreadable. After a long beat, she glanced back up at him, her voice smooth but laced with feigned indifference. "Knives?" She echoed, her tone neutral. "Sorry, I don't know her."

Archer's eyes narrowed, but he held his composure. He'd expected this kind of response. Mirage wasn't one to speak freely, especially about something like this. Still, the way she avoided his gaze told him enough.

"I see," Archer replied, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice. "But you wouldn't happen to have any information about her, would you? You know… just in case."

Mirage gave him a small, knowing smile, though her eyes remained hidden behind the mask. "I told you already, I don't know her." She leaned back in her chair, posture aloof, her tone dismissive. "Anything else, Archer?"

The dingo raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. "You know who I am, huh?"

She met his gaze for a moment, her lips curling slightly as if to mock him. "The tattoo, the attitude… you're a Black Widow. You all have the same look." Her voice was flat but sharp, almost as if she was cutting him off before he could waste more of her time.

Archer chuckled, leaning in a little closer, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. "Guess my reputation precedes me, eh?"

Mirage's gaze hardened, and she scoffed, unfazed. "Eyes up here, sweetheart." Her tone was cutting, and Archer's gaze snapped back to her face, a smirk tugging at his lips as he straightened.

"Right… Well, thanks for the help, love," he muttered, turning on his heel and walking away.

Mirage watched him go, her posture still as unbothered as ever. She waited for a moment, ensuring he was well out of earshot before she slowly removed her mask. Underneath, the cool, controlled face of Judo—a chow-chow with light gray and white fur, medium-length hair, and a quiet intensity—was revealed.

One thing was on her mind.

"Bingo's in grave danger."