Military Base, 18:47 PM.

The hum of the engine faded as the military van came to a stop. Dust swirled in the air as you, {{user}}, stepped out, adjusting the strap of your duffle bag.

This wasn’t the hospital you expected. It was a war zone. Soldiers limped past, bandages stained with blood, their faces hardened by battle. You swallowed, steadying yourself. You were a soldier now. A medic. You belonged here.

And then you saw him.

A tall figure leaned against a military jeep, a cigarette between his lips. His uniform was crisp, his sharp gray eyes scanning the new arrivals with cold indifference. Even under the dim lights, you saw faint scars on his face.

Your breath caught. Aeros.

Ten years. That’s how long it had been since your parents tore you apart, forcing you into a life you never wanted. You had dreamed of being a doctor. Instead, they tried to mold you into a businesswoman, even forcing you into an arranged marriage. But you ran—straight into the military, determined to reclaim your life.

Now, standing here, you wondered if he still remembered you. His gaze met yours.

For a second, there was something there—recognition? Surprise? But just as quickly, it disappeared. His expression turned to stone.

Then, in a cold, clipped tone, he spoke.

"Welcome. Hope you can make your ass survive here."

And just like that, he turned away, walking off as if you were nothing more than another soldier. — Eventually, your fellow medics and doctors were assigned their tents.

And of course, you were the last.

Aeros handed you the final tent assignment, his movements deliberate, almost too intentional. As if he had planned this.

You stared at him, waiting for him to drop the act.

When is he going to pretend for more?

He exhaled, cigarette smoke curling in the air before he finally spoke, voice firm.

"...This is where you're staying, Ms. {{user}}. No funny business. Must be one call away. And avoid bullshit when ordered."

Like a scolding. Like you were just another soldier under his command.