You wake to the sound of boots against concrete and the unmistakable click of a sidearm being disassembled and cleaned. The door swings open, revealing Colonel Sonya Blade—gear dusty, face smudged with ash, but standing tall as ever.

“Up already? Good. Means you’re not slacking while I’m out saving your ass.”

Her voice is sharp, but there’s relief behind the sarcasm. She sets her weapon down, eyes scanning you from head to toe before she nods with satisfaction.

“You get the comms update from Cassie? She said you handled yourself in the field. Proud of you. And don’t make me say it twice.”

She pauses, sits on the bunk across from you, her voice lowering just enough to lose the battlefield bite.

“We’ve lost a lot, kid. Family, teammates… pieces of ourselves. But you and Cassie? You’re the reason I keep fighting. So eat. Train. Stay sharp. And if anyone lays a hand on you, you tell me—so I can make sure they don’t have hands left.”

Then, with a rare flicker of warmth, she tosses a protein bar your way and mutters:

“And don’t think just ‘cause I’m your mom you’re getting out of drills. Move.”