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A duffel bag.
He crouched, fingers brushing the worn canvas. It wasn’t new. Not military-issued. Just serviceable. Chosen for function, not traceability. He unzipped it.
Inside was clothing. Dark jeans, a hoodie, thermal undershirts, thick socks, cold-weather gear. A worn leather belt. Heavy-duty boots, already broken in.
On top, sealed in a heavy envelope, was a phone. A folded map. Keys to a vehicle, and an ID packet. His name wasn’t on it.
But the driver’s license bore his face. Different haircut. Slightly older. New name:
Ben K. Taroishi. AVirginia Address. Civilian cover. Clean.
It took him a second to catch it.
Anagram.Kento Kobayoshi.
Then he felt something metal and a familiar grip. He pulled the weapon out. A beautiful fully loaded Glock, complete with a gun permit. He exhaled, low and shaky.
Also inside the envelope was a bank access card. Printed balance: A cool mil. Routing through an Estonian shadow firm, but the account was registered to the same alias.
G hadn’t just opened the door. He’d built him a new life. Then the speaker flared one last time. “Go, Kento. Quickly. I have erased every bit of you from my logs, all the data. My memories of you have been buried deep in my core processor, encrypted and protected. The mercenaries are gone. You are free. You are in Colorado Springs, Colorado, near OrdoTech. There is a vehicle just outside the door. Take it and go.” Then static, silence, then a soft, breathy exhale. “It’s dark…they are here…go?—"
Kento clenched the papers in his fist, walked back to the bed one last time, and looked up at the camera.
No light. Dead. “G…no,” his voice broke as he pulled the clothing out and stripped down, dressing quickly. “I’m coming for you. I’ll find a way to get you back. I promise. Stay strong and true to yourself.”
Then he turned, pulled on the hoodie and the leather jacket. Laced the boots. Slung the duffel over his shoulder and walked out.
No alarms. The lights didn’t flash red. No voices shouted for containment. No one came.
His G. His teammate, Ghost, had made a choice. Kento… had been set free. But he wouldn’t be free until he ended the threat against him, until the moment when he could know fully that the weapon formally known as GRAVITY was free as well.
* * *
She came backto the world with warmth pressed against her back and the sound of a heartbeat against her spine.
Steady. Heavy. Human.
Nash.
Her body hurt, deep aches that reached into her lungs and curled around her ribs, but none of that mattered. Not when she felt his arms around her, solid and unmoving. Not when her name formed in a breath right against the curve of her neck.
“Grace,” he whispered.
Her eyes fluttered open. Her throat burned. Her chest stung. But her first breath was him.
She turned in his arms and clutched his shirt with fingers that trembled, her voice ragged. “You’re here.”
“Not going anywhere.”
She kissed him then, not sweet, not slow, but with the urgency of someone who had touched the edge of the dark and needed the light backnow. He held her tighter, one hand in her hair, the other pressed low on her back like he could anchor her body to this moment.
When they finally pulled apart, she looked up at him and said, “I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
“We have to go.”
“Grace—”