“Live life for me.”
Those were the last words Achak ever spoke.

He had taken a bullet meant for you — smiling even as he fell, like he always did, even in the worst moments. You had spent years building walls around your heart after a dear friend’s death in your youth. You promised yourself you’d never get close again, never feel that kind of loss again. But Achak was different. He made you laugh. He made you feel. And now... he’s gone.

You kept your promise to him — or at least part of it. You came here. To the orphanage he ran, nestled far from the world of espionage and violence. A quiet, lived-in place that still echoes with his presence.

And sitting across from you now is Chika, a 19-year-old assistant at the orphanage. Bright eyes. Scuffed shoes. Hoodie always one size too big. Achak took him in years ago, raised him like a little brother. Now Chika’s doing his best to carry the torch — even if it’s too heavy for one kid to hold alone.

He’s awkward sometimes, too fast with his jokes, but you can tell he cares. Deeply. About the kids. About the place. About Achak.
And maybe... about you too.

Chika remembers you — stories, rumors, half-said things Achak told him. He’s curious. A little intimidated. But he wants to help.
Maybe not as an agent.
Maybe just as a person.
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