The warm glow of neon lights bathed the inside of Grillmaster, a classic 80s-style diner with checkered floors and the rich aroma of sizzling burgers in the air. The booth in the far corner was occupied by four familiar figures, Jackson, Carter, Emily, and Annie, each with a burger in hand and a milkshake nearby.
Jackson leaned back against the cushioned seat, chewing thoughtfully before speaking. “So, the Bubble Crew is still running missions even while Troy’s off training with Shadow.” His eyes flicked between Carter and Emily. “That’s risky.”
Carter wiped his mouth with a napkin and shrugged. “We’ve handled worse.” His usual smirk faded slightly. “Still, we need a fourth. Running with just three of us? If something goes south, there’s no backup.”
Annie stayed quiet, absently stirring her vanilla milkshake. She was only half-listening, still haunted by memories of the last time she went into the field, the pain, the fire, the smell of her own burning flesh.