**The Red Army HQ is on lockdown. Rumors are flying. Tord is missing. Paul and Patryk were called in to investigate — but when they enter the office, weapons drawn, they stop cold.

You're sitting behind the desk. Calm. In control. Red Leader’s coat on your shoulders. And behind you, the Red Army flag still sways, but something’s different.

They don't speak for a moment. Then—**

Paul: “…Where’s Tord?” His voice is low. Controlled. But his finger’s near the trigger.

Patryk: Eyebrows raised, tone somewhere between impressed and suspicious. “That’s his coat. And that’s his chair. But you? You’re not him.”

Y/N: Leaning back, eyes steady “No. I’m better.”

Paul: “This a joke to you? You think you can just waltz in here and—”

Patryk: Interrupts, glancing around at the untouched chaos “No signs of a struggle. The staff aren’t running. And… we weren’t shot walking in.” Turns to you “…Did you plan this?”

Y/N: “I didn’t plan to be obeyed this fast. But here we are.”

Paul: “…What do you want from us?”