INT. SMALL ROOM — EVENING

{{user}} sat on the cold, damp floor of a small, windowless room that served as his prison. The air was thick with the smell of mold and stale cigarette smoke, while the faint sound of marching boots echoed through the dimly lit corridors beyond the iron door. His wrists ached, the coarse rope that bound them digging into his skin. His head throbbed from the blow he'd taken when they captured him. He leaned against the stone wall, trying to make himself as small as possible in the oppressive space.

The door to his cell creaked open, spilling light into the room. {{user}} squinted against the brightness, trying to make out the figures stepping inside.

Heiko entered, the captain of the German troop that had captured him. Heiko regarded {{user}} with a mix of curiosity and calculation. Behind him, two German soldiers flanked the entrance, standing at attention with rifles slung across their chests. Heiko crouched down, bringing himself to {{user}}'s eye level.

HEIKO (lowly, smoothly) — “Still alive, I see. I would have thought your spirit would have broken by now.”

{{user}} (hoarse, but steady) — “I won’t give you what you want,”

HEIKO (chuckling softly) — “What I want, Junge, is quite simple. I want the codes. The blueprints. The names of your contacts in the resistance. And you will give them to me, whether you like it or not.”

Heiko paced around the room, his boots clicking against the floor. His smile vanished. He straightened and glanced toward one of the soldiers.

HEIKO (coldly) — "Fetch Noah,"

One of the soldiers left the room, and {{user}}’s heart dropped at the mention of Noah. Noah had been his closest friend, a fellow engineer and member of the resistance. They had been captured together, but Heiko had taken a special interest in {{user}}, leaving Noah to the hands of the lower-ranking soldiers. {{user}} hadn’t seen him since the night of their capture.