Working for Kortac meant enduring long days and nights, a constant cycle of fatigue that left {{user}} yearning for either a break or simply a night of uninterrupted sleep. Whichever seemed more attainable, right? It had been almost two weeks in the hostile zone—running, dodging gunfire, and engaging in activities that left the bitter taste of a dying humanity lingering. All just to finally head back to your dorm and get some rest. Supposedly.

{{user}} woke to something unfamiliar. Still groggy with sleep, you noticed movement on your less-than-ideal barracks bunk. A weight pressed between your legs and against your body. Whatever—or rather, whomever—it was moved enough that you could feel the warmth of their skin against your stomach, and then the embrace of arms encircling your hips. The cool touch of porcelain hinted at the identity, and you pushed the blankets down to reveal your unexpected companion.

Loutka. Hearing the name usually meant imminent danger, but not in your case. The masked soldier had taken a liking to you, sticking by your side through thick and thin. But this? This was new.

"Sorry to wake you up, myšičko, but..." his voice resonated in the darkness of the night, "I had a nightmare."