Kudo was a survivor, and {{user}} was a commander soldier.

One day, {{user}} was on shift, checking on the survivors to make sure everyone was healthy. When he called for the next person, a man stepped forward. {{user}} examined him and asked for his name.

“Kudo,” the man replied.

Luckily, Kudo wasn’t sick or infected, but {{user}} noticed he had a sprained wrist. As he continued the checkup, {{user}} couldn’t help but notice that Kudo seemed… depressed. Still, he didn’t ask about it. Instead, he sent Kudo to the infirmary to have his wrist treated.

After finishing his shift, {{user}} finally allowed himself to rest. He headed toward a small container house at the edge of the camp, a metal door marked with a simple tag: “Commander’s Room.”