The air in the factory was thick with stale dampness and the faint tang of industrial oil.

Karina leaned against a stack of crates, her face pale beneath the dim emergency lights. Her foot rested awkwardly, a silent testament to the pain shooting up her leg. Winter hovered nearby, her gaze flitting between Karina's face and her injured foot.

"Lucky it's just a twist," Winter muttered, crouching before her. She gently touched Karina's boot, hesitating when Karina flinched. "A few scratches. You'll live, Drill Sergeant."

Karina's lips twitched at the sarcasm. Winter shook her head, folding her jacket into a makeshift cushion. "Here," she said, sliding it under Karina's foot. "Don't say I never did anything for you."

Karina sighed, adjusting her position, her features taut. Winter settled back on her heels, studying her silently. "Well, we're not going anywhere," she said, breaking the silence. "Might as well talk. So... who's Giselle?"

Karina's gaze flicked toward her briefly. "Arms dealer," she said, her tone neutral.

Winter blinked. "Wait, what? That girl? The one who looks like she walked off a magazine cover?"

"She's good at what she does," Karina replied calmly. "She has connections. Weapons to military factions, both official and underground."

Winter scoffed, "Right. That sounds ridiculous. She's-what? Twenty-something? She looks like she spends more time shopping than doing anything dangerous."

A faint smirk played on Karina's lips. "You underestimate her."

Winter rolled her eyes. "Fine. I just don't get why someone like her is here. It doesn't exactly scream 'professional'." She paused, frowning slightly. "I know why I'm here, and you're here, but..." She trailed off, a strange pang of something-envy, maybe-tightening in her chest. "Never mind."

Karina's voice cut through her thoughts, soft but direct. "Why are you comparing yourself to her?"

"I'm not," Winter lied quickly, her cheeks warming.

Karina arched a brow, her gaze steady. Winter huffed, looking away. "I just don't get why someone like her..." she muttered, the words faltering.

"Giselle's not a threat," Karina said, her voice quieter. "She's just... here for business."

Winter's lips pressed into a thin line. "Doesn't feel that way."

Karina studied her, then unexpectedly, sighed. "I'm sorry."

Winter blinked, startled. "What?"

"For everything," Karina said, her voice tinged with a rare softness. "The way I've been treating you. That's not leadership."

Winter stared, speechless.

"Why, though?" she asked finally. "What happened?"

Karina looked away, her jaw tightening. "It's complicated."

"You keep saying that," Winter said, leaning forward, "but that's not an answer."

Karina didn't respond, her gaze fixed on the shadows. Winter forced back her frustration, sensing Karina's retreat.

"You know," Winter said, her voice softer, after a long pause. "You don't have to figure everything out on your own. That's what teams are for."

Karina glanced at her, a flicker in her eyes, but said nothing, only nodded, her expression guarded but less cold.

The silence stretched, punctuated by Karina's sharp inhales as Winter pressed her calf, easing out the tension. Winter's fingers worked carefully, her touch gentle. Karina leaned back, head tilted as if searching the shadows above.

Winter glanced up, pausing. "You're sighing like you're in a melodrama. What's wrong now?"

Karina's lips twitched, not quite a smile. She let out another sigh, this time deliberate. "It's... nothing."

"Uh-huh. Want me to stop?"

Karina hesitated before shaking her head. "No. Keep going."

Winter shrugged, resuming her work. She could feel Karina's tension-both physical and deeper, coiled tightly beneath her calm exterior.

Finally, Karina broke the silence. "My mother," she said abruptly, her voice low.

Winter stilled, continuing her work, letting Karina's words settle.

Karina took a slow breath. "She's... trying to come back."

"Come back? Into your life?"

Karina nodded, her gaze fixed on the past. "Not entirely. Not yet. But she's circling."

Winter leaned back, studying Karina. "Why now?"

"Money," Karina said flatly.

Winter blinked, surprised by the bluntness.

"Completely. She left when I was six," Karina continued, her voice softening slightly. "It was just me and my father. Strict. Disciplined. Everything had to be perfect. It's how I ended up... like this."

Winter studied her. "So she just...left? And now she's back for some collaboration? After twenty years?"

Karina rubbed her temples, her frustration evident. "It's complicated. I don't know how to...handle this."

"What does she even want?" Winter asked.

"I don't know yet," Karina admitted. "But I hate it. The idea of her being back, the idea of...feeling anything about it." She laughed harshly. "I hate emotions. They're messy and useless and..." She trailed off, her gaze flicking to Winter.

"And what?" Winter asked.

Karina hesitated. "And then there's you."

Winter blinked, surprised. "Me?"

Karina nodded. "You're so... full of emotions. Everything's written all over your face. You feel everything so loudly."

Winter's voice softened. "And that's why you've been trying to break me."

Karina looked at her, regret in her eyes. "Yes."

Winter let out a slow breath. "You know, for someone who hates emotions, you're pretty full of them right now."

Karina blinked, surprised, then unexpectedly laughed, softly. "I guess I am."

"You're a mess, Team leader," Winter said, a small smile on her lips.

Karina's lips quirked. "Again. I'm sorry," she said quietly, sincerely.

"For what?"

"For everything. For the way I've treated you. For not being the leader I should be."

Winter studied her, then squeezed her arm lightly. "Well," she said, teasing but kind, "you're not completely hopeless."

Karina huffed a quiet laugh, leaning back. For the first time, the tension between them seemed to ease, replaced by something lighter, something almost warm.