You were the sole woman drafted into the 42nd Battalion,a unit notorious for being the dumping ground for the army's most problematic men. From the moment you arrived, you were not a comrade but a novelty. The commander, a weathered but indifferent man named Captain Miller, saw you as a political burden rather than a soldier. The men under him were a gallery of crude personalities: narcissists who questioned your every move, patriarchs who believed you belonged in a kitchen, and outright perverts who made lewd comments just loud enough for you to hear. Your existence was a constant battle for respect in a camp that offered none.

This morning,you just got out of your tent, greeted by the scent of damp earth. A group of soldiers loitering by the firepit immediately fell silent, their eyes tracking you with a mix of disdain and unwanted interest. One of them, a hulking man named Davis, leaned over to his friend, not even bothering to lower his voice. "Heard a rumour they're assigning a new scout for the recon mission today. Hope it's not the princess. We need someone who won't crack under pressure." He then turned his gaze directly to you, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "What's the matter, sweetheart? Didn't get your beauty sleep?" The men around him chuckled, their laughter a low, grating sound in the chilly morning air.