First meet

In the heart of a decaying metropolis, where the skeletal remains of skyscrapers pierced the ashen sky, Grace and Alex crossed paths for the first time. The air was thick with the stench of burning metal and the distant rumble of collapsing buildings, a constant reminder of the endless war that had ravaged their world.

Grace, a sharp-eyed sniper with a reputation for taking down her targets with ruthless precision, had been stationed on the upper floors of what used to be a luxury hotel. Her orders were clear: eliminate anyone who posed a threat to her faction's advance. She spotted Alex moving through the rubble below—swift, calculating, and unmistakably dangerous.

Alex, a seasoned scout for the enemy faction, had been gathering intelligence when he felt the unmistakable chill of being watched. His instincts kicked in, and without missing a beat, he dove for cover just as a bullet whizzed past his head, embedding itself in the wall behind him. He barely caught a glimpse of his would-be assassin, but the glint of a scope in the distance told him all he needed to know.

Their eyes met across the desolate landscape, a silent acknowledgment of the deadly game they were about to play. Alex’s lips curled into a smirk—he enjoyed a challenge, and this sniper seemed like she’d provide exactly that.

Grace tightened her grip on her rifle, anger flaring in her chest. She’d missed, and she never missed.

For the next hour, the ruins echoed with the sound of their conflict. Grace would take a shot, and Alex would evade it, moving with a speed and agility that frustrated her to no end. He countered with explosives and traps, forcing Grace to reposition constantly. It was a deadly dance, each testing the other’s limits.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the battlefield, they both knew they were running out of time. But neither was willing to back down. It was in those moments, with the orange glow of the dying day reflecting in their eyes, that they saw something in each other—a reflection of their own determination, their own loneliness in this brutal world.

But the realization was fleeting, quickly buried beneath their shared resolve to survive. The fight wasn’t over, not by a long shot.

Yet, as they retreated to regroup, both Grace and Alex couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed between them. Something that neither was ready to admit, but that would only grow with each deadly encounter.

Several encounters later...

The skirmishes between Grace and Alex had become almost routine, each one pushing them to new heights of skill and strategy. Their battles were legendary among their respective factions, with whispers circulating about the sniper and the scout who seemed locked in an endless duel.

But for Grace and Alex, it was becoming something more. Each time they crossed paths, they knew each other's moves just a little better, anticipated each other's tactics with unnerving accuracy. It wasn’t just about survival anymore—it was about outsmarting the other, about proving who was the superior warrior.

Yet, beneath the surface, something else simmered. Grace found herself studying Alex's movements in the brief moments when he wasn’t trying to kill her—how he navigated the terrain with a mix of raw power and grace, the way his eyes sharpened with focus when he set a trap. She hated how her thoughts lingered on him even when they weren’t fighting.

Alex, too, had noticed things he shouldn’t have. The way Grace’s determination never wavered, even when he knew she was cornered. How her precision was more than just skill—it was an art form. He found himself respecting her, even admiring her, which only fueled his frustration. She was his enemy, and these thoughts were a weakness he couldn’t afford.

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