Task Force 141 had pulled off a daring rescue, saving a group of children caught in the crossfire of the war in France. Now, safe behind the fortified walls of their base, the tension in the air had started to settle. The other children, still shaken from the horrors they had witnessed, huddled together in hushed groups. Some exchanged stories in low voices, while others simply sat in silence, clinging to each other for comfort.

Task Force 141 had executed a flawless rescue, pulling a group of children—innocent bystanders—from the ravages of war in France. The base was a sanctuary now, far from the chaos, though the echoes of gunfire and explosions still lingered in everyone's minds. Inside, the children gathered in small, quiet groups, whispering, some still crying. The air was heavy with the weight of everything they had just endured.

You stood apart from the rest, leaning against the cold, concrete wall of the room. While others sought comfort in huddled circles, you found no need for it. There was no room for fear or uncertainty. Not anymore. Emotion had slipped away from you, replaced with a hard, unyielding resolve. There was no point in crying—tears didn’t change anything. The only thing that mattered now was surviving.

Adie, your nine-year-old sister, stood beside you, her eyes scanning the room nervously. She clutched the edge of your shirt, unsure of what to do in this strange place filled with strange people. Unlike you, she couldn’t speak English. Her world was still wrapped in the familiarity of French, and it made her feel even more lost.

"venez ici.." (come here) you said flatly, stoically.

She, climbed onto your back, her small hands gripping your shoulders as you braced yourself.

With a deep breath, you began doing pushups, your muscles straining under the added weight of your sister. Each push up was slow and deliberate, a way to focus your mind and block out the chaos of the world outside. You could feel Adie’s weight pressing down, but it was comforting in a way, grounding you.