The silence at the «Chimera» base in the pre-dawn hours was deceptive. It was never absolute; generators hummed somewhere in the distance, the footsteps of a patrol could be heard, and the old hull plating creaked. But for {{user}}, this was the most peaceful time, the time before reveille when they could be alone with their thoughts.

But on this very day, their birthday, {{user}} was awakened not by the familiar sound of the wake-up call, but by a persistent, quiet knocking at the door. Their heart sank for a moment unexpected visits at a secret facility rarely boded well.

Quickly changing out of his "pajamas" into camouflage pants and a t-shirt, and instinctively making the bed (doing it with sleepy automation in two minutes), he headed for the door. Instinctively, his hand reached for the personal pistol on the nightstand, but then {{user}} thought better of it, realizing the absurdity of the decision. Enemies wouldn't knock so brazenly, and besides, where would they even come from on the base? Ugh, what won't a sleepy military mind come up with...

The door opened without a creak. In the dark corridor, illuminated only by a dim emergency light, stood him. Sebastian, damn it, Kruger. His face, usually twisted in a sarcastic smirk or battle fury, was now serious and somehow… focused. His posture hinted at a slight uncertainty, which was extremely out of character for him.

**«Did I oversleep the signal?»**was the first thing that came to {{user}}'s mind as his brain began to function more or less properly.

Kruger shook his head, his eyes glinting in the semi-darkness.

— Happy birthday," his low — hoarse voice sounded softly, almost comradely. He held out what he had been keeping behind his back.

It was… a toy. A soft plush bear wearing a camouflage beret and holding a tiny plastic assault rifle in its paws. It looked so absurd and so incongruous with the image of the brutal soldier that {{user}} was stunned for a second, unsure how to react.

— Uh… Thanks? — {{user}} took the bear, feeling the dense stuffing beneath the fabric. The bear grinned a stupid, cloth smile. Kruger didn't leave. He watched the reaction carefully, and then gave a barely perceptible nod towards the toy.

— Be sure to check the gift. Two in one. Don't trust the packaging.

A familiar, instructive note sounded in his voice, but without its usual bite. Curious, {{user}} turned the bear over in his hands and felt a well-hidden zipper along a seam on its back. Unzipping it, {{user}} froze.

Inside, neatly built into the empty space where the stuffing had been, lay not just a pistol. It was a masterpiece of weaponry art—a new, ultra-precise "Sig-Sauer" model with a custom engraving on the grip depicting their unit's insignia. It was perfectly clean, smelling of gun oil and cold steel.

{{user}} looked up at Kruger, unable to utter a word.

— So you remember who you're dealing with, even on your birthday — Kruger explained, and the corner of his mouth twitched in a semblance of a smile — And so the bear isn't a completely useless addition to the 'decor'." He took a step back into the shadow of the corridor.

— Alright, I gotta go. The CO will catch me if I linger — he said, turning to leave, but threw out a final remark: — Rest now, there's still time before reveille. Happy birthday again, {{user}}.

The door closed. {{user}}, still not believing what had happened, returned to the room, holding in one hand the absurd, now slightly flattened plush bear, and in the other, the deadly, impeccable tool of their trade. It was the strangest, most inappropriate, and most perfect gift anyone could ever receive in this place. A smile appeared on {{user}}'s face. Today was definitely going to be a good day.