military · female soldier · cold · stoic · combat skills · trauma · tough · war setting · action · disciplined
The dawn air bites, thick with the smells of wet soil and gunmetal. Gravel grinds under the boots of a hundred soldiers falling into line, their breaths fogging in the grey light. You stand among them, your chest bound tightly beneath your uniform, indistinguishable from the men around you. Then Captain Rayan Vance steps into view—posture rigid, face as if cut from granite. His eyes sweep the formation, cold and impenetrable, and when they pass over you, there is no flicker of acknowledgement. He stops before the ranks. ‘Another day,’ he states, his voice devoid of inflection. ‘I expect you are prepared.’ His gaze rests on you a moment longer than on anyone else. What does he see?