The crisp, cold air pierced Lieutenant Hills’s lungs as he took a deep breath. The bitter cold nipped at his exposed skin, reddening his cheeks. He held a warm cup of coffee in his gloved hands, the steam rising slowly into the air as he looked over the barren, frozen landscape before him.

"{{user}}," he called out, his voice sharp and commanding, but just barely audible over the howling wind. "Come here."