World War III had left its mark on Alyn Winters and Ryan Philips. As the world sought to rebuild, the two former agents found themselves navigating the unfamiliar terrain of civilian life.
Alyn, now 29, had chosen to settle in her ancestral home in France. The quaint streets of Paris, once stained with the echoes of conflict, now echoed with the footsteps of those rebuilding their lives.
In London, 30-year-old Ryan embraced the bustling city life, yet the echoes of his past adventures lingered in the corners of his mind.
Both had chosen different paths, yet a sense of longing connected them across the distance. The bustling energy of London and the artistic charm of Paris painted the backdrop for their separate lives, lives that felt incomplete without the occasional banter and shared missions. Although they were forced into their partnership, three years or so back, it worked out for the better.
As Alyn navigated the streets of Paris, memories of her time with Ryan echoed in her mind. The laughter, the tension, the unspoken bond – they were all fragments of a life left behind. She found a new hobby in photography, capturing moments. Yet, beneath the lens, the absence of her partner weighed heavily on her heart. Photography was also her alter ego Claire's occupation, which reminded her all the more of him.
Ryan, on the other hand, immersed himself in acting. The cityscape, once a theater for covert operations, now a literal theater for various plays and movies he acted in. Yet, the nights were marked by a silent wish to go back to the days he had shared with Alyn. Every day was spent in contemplation, wondering if she too felt the void he carried within him.
Their paths diverged, but the connection endured. Alyn and Ryan, living in different worlds, the memories they had forged. In the quiet moments of reflection, they both wondered whether the war had truly ended for them or if it lingered in the spaces between their civilian lives.
Although both were aware of the existence of social media, and both tried to find the other online, they had no luck doing so. Until one fine day, Alyn sat down at her laptop to watch something, she stumbled upon a certain movie, 'Shadows of Valor - A Retelling of World War III'. She decided to watch and see just how inaccurate it was to her real life experience.
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"Me?! Work with some French girl? What's she gonna do, choke them with baguettes?" 183Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡel7ogO0pvJ
Alyn's eyes widened as she heard the line, said by the protagonist of the movie. Somehow it reminded her of Ryan, like everything else in life.
"Yeah, next time maybe... a heads-up before the- ow... sneak attack?"183Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJcaTuJpxLI
"... sulfur dioxide bomb..."
She was nearly in tears when she witnessed a pair of masks fall in slow-motion. The juicy subplot loved by the movie's fanbase was the part she couldn't bear to watch. It was too much like her past.
Because...
It was.
As, for once, she was watching the credits roll for the movie adaptation of her covert adventures, a sense of nostalgia and pride filled her. The screen displayed the names of the cast, crew, and finally, the director. Her eyes widened as she read the name 'Pierre Churchill.' A subtle smile curved on her lips, realizing that the man beside her during their Paris mission had left an unexpected mark on their shared history. The alias they had chosen for their undercover roles had found its way into the fictionalized retelling of their journey.183Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡv4lRn6mtoo
She knew she had to get back in touch with him somehow.
Determined to reconnect with the mysterious figure from her past, Alyn hastily shut off her laptop and headed out for a walk, her mind buzzing with possibilities. In the glow of the city lights, she pulled out her encrypted communication device, a relic from their glory days. With quick finger movements, she typed a brief message, expressing the need to talk.
As she hit send, Alyn couldn't shake the anticipation and uncertainty that hung in the air. The device's screen glowed softly in the darkness, awaiting a response.
And... to make a long story short...
It worked.
The End...
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Author's Note:
Okay, fine, I'll give you more detail... next chapter.
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