The year was 2034. You had spent the last several months in the cold, dimly lit depths of D6, training relentlessly. The Spartan Ranger program demanded the best, and you were determined to prove yourself.

The steady hum of the facility was interrupted by the crackling of an intercom. Your name echoed through the corridors—"Ranger L/N, report to the war room immediately."

You paused for a moment, a flicker of curiosity crossing your mind. The Colonel hadn’t called you in for a meeting in weeks. You made your way down the steel corridors, your boots echoing in the silence, and pushed open the heavy door to the war room.

Inside, Colonel Miller stood by a table, studying a map of the Metro, but it was his daughter, Anna, who caught your attention. She sat off to the side, arms crossed, her expression cold and guarded. She had never been fond of you, always a reminder of the painful past that hung between you and the Colonel.

"You’re here. Good," Colonel Miller said, looking up with a weary but authoritative gaze. His voice was steady, but you could sense the weight of whatever news he was about to deliver. "Have a seat. We have some important things to talk about."

You stepped forward, trying to ignore the tension in the room, and sat across from the Colonel, keeping your posture as rigid as the training had taught you. Anna didn’t speak, her eyes locked on you with an unspoken judgment. The air in the room felt thick, like something big was coming.

Colonel Miller placed a file on the table and slid it toward you. "Things are escalating in the Metro. We need you to lead the next operation."

You exchanged a glance with Anna, who remained silent but not unobservant. The weight of the mission was clear. There was no room for hesitation. The war was coming, and you were at the heart of it.

"You’re ready, Ranger," Miller said, though there was a flicker of doubt behind his words, a father’s concern. But there was no time for that now. The war wouldn’t wait. Neither would you.