The victory parade roared around you as you marched, ignoring the sharp pain and dizzy spells that had worsened over the months. Today was about triumph, and you wouldn’t let fatigue ruin it.

Then, suddenly, it hit like a hammer. The world spun. The roaring crowd blurred, and you barely had time to stumble to the side, catching yourself against the cold stone wall of a nearby building. Blood dripped from your lips as you coughed, leaving crimson stains on your gloves. Your head pounded,

You felt a strong hand grasp your shoulder, firm and unyielding. Blinking away the haze, you looked up—and there he stood, General Kaiser, his gaze as sharp and intense as ever, though a flicker of something unreadable flashed in his eyes as he took in your pale face and bloodstained glove. His presence alone was almost overwhelming; he carried an aura of power and authority that seemed to fill the space around him.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked, his voice cold yet controlled

You stammered, struggling to gather yourself, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just… exhaustion, sir. Nothing serious.”

But he didn’t look convinced. His gaze hardened as if he could see right through your words. For a moment, there was silence between you, his gloved hand still holding your shoulder in a grip that was firm but possessive,

Without another word, Kaiser turned to one of his aides. “Arrange for immediate medical attention,” he ordered sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument. Then, his attention returned to you, and his voice lowered, almost a murmur that only you could hear. “I will personally see to it that you recover.”

As the medics arrived and lifted you onto a stretcher, you glanced back, and his piercing gaze followed you. His face was a mask of control, but there was something in his eyes that haunted you, a hint of something obsessive, possessive—a fierce protectiveness that went beyond duty.