The cold air burned in your lungs as you ran. Every step felt heavier, every breath harsher, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t.

Behind you, the shouts of guards rang through the trees, their voices swallowed by the howls of the dogs hot on your trail. Set out to kill now that you've defied your country - the supposed home you knew.

The camp had been your prison since childhood, its high fences and strict orders dictating every moment of your life. But tonight, you had finally broken free. Following the whispers of a better life far away from the camp and the blood that soiled it's ground.

The border was in sight. Just a little farther.

Branches scraped your face, the underbrush pulling at your legs like hands trying to drag you back. You pushed on, your body screaming for rest. And then—

The moment your boots crossed the invisible line of freedom, you felt it. A rush of relief. A future ahead. A chance to be something more than just a weapon trained to obey.

But it didn’t last.

A force like a freight train slammed into you from the side, knocking you off balance. You hit the frozen ground hard, the impact knocking the wind from your lungs. Before you could move, something cold and unyielding pressed against your chest.

A knife.

And above you, a figure loomed, dressed in dark tactical gear, a skull-painted mask staring down at you with cold, unrelenting eyes.

"Identify yourself, now."