The Protocol Unmasked (Valorant X Male Reader)

Chapter 8: Caught Off Guard

The relentless traffic noise, like an orchestra of discordant horns and impatient engines, surrounded (Y/n) and Viper as they wound their way through the bustling city streets. (Y/n)'s frustration was evident in the impatient tone of his voice, a sentiment shared by anyone who found themselves ensnared in an urban web of congestion.

"It's like we're in a never-ending jam," he declared, his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead, as if by sheer determination he could propel their vehicle through the chaos.

But then, like a sudden hush in the middle of a storm, the cacophony faded as they took a sharp turn onto a quieter, more desolate street. The city's relentless clamor was replaced by an eerie silence, a silence that, even to (Y/n), felt unusual. Viper, the ever vigilant and strategic thinker, sensed it first.

"Do you hear that?" she cautioned, her voice laced with a cautious edge. "Something doesn't feel right."

(Y/n), now more alert, strained to listen intently, every muscle in his body poised for action. His curiosity was piqued by Viper's unease, and he whispered back, his voice barely audible, "I don't hear anything. Was it my stomach?"

Viper responded in a hushed tone, her words weighted with caution. "Shush!"

(Y/n), his voice hushed as well, continued, "Whatever it is, it's not me. And it's definitely not my fart."

Viper's senses remained on high alert, and she reached for her sidearm as they whispered back and forth.

(Y/n), however, couldn't resist a final quip, "Okay, maybe it's me, but it's because Jett put so much spice on my breakfast. It doesn't smell. Right?"

In a low voice, Viper assured him, "First of all, yes, it does smell like... shit."

"But it's not you." she continue, her tone tinged with a sense of impending danger, "I heard something else, like a faint hum or electronic interference."

The truck became a sanctuary of tension, a place where the bustling city streets had been replaced by an ominous stillness. The optical lenses, discreet and unobtrusive, captured every nuance of their preparedness, underscoring their unwavering vigilance as they braced for whatever unseen threat lay ahead.

In the eerie quiet that had descended upon the once-bustling street, the sudden rocket, unleashed with deadly intent.

(Y/n), the words barely escaping his lips, shouted in confusion and alarm, "What the—"

The rocket slammed into their truck with an unforgiving force, sending it hurtling through the air. The vehicle was upended, its metallic body twisting and turning as if in protest against the violent intrusion.

Their world turned into a maelstrom of chaos. The optical lenses, steadfast witnesses to the pandemonium, captured the moment the explosion rocked their truck, shrouding it in a thick cloud of smoke and debris. The world around them became a frenetic blur of motion as the truck, like a colossal toy in the hands of fate, crashed and flipped upside down.

Viper, her voice strained with pain, groaned as she sought to regain her bearings, her thoughts racing to assess the situation. "(Y/n), are you alright?"

With a grimace etched upon his features, (Y/n) replied, his voice tinged with determination, "Yeah, I'm good. Are you?"

"Not so much." Viper struggles to let her words out in pain.

Their instincts kicked into high gear, fueled by adrenaline. Unbuckling their seatbelts, they acted with an almost mechanical precision, acknowledging the peril that had taken them by surprise. In a symphony of synchronized movements, they made their way out of the wreckage, escaping the unexpected and devastating ambush.