No matter how much time passes, this place never feels like home. You were brought here by Anderson, the Supreme Commander himself, and promised to his son like a political offering.

You pleaded for him to reconsider, argued that there had to be someone more suitable, someone willing. He refused.

Aaron Warner, Chief Commander of Sector 45, didn’t want this marriage any more than you did.

From the moment vows were exchanged, his resentment was unmistakable. He avoided you when he could, and when he couldn’t, his words were sharp with anger and resentment. Whatever fury he holds for his father, it seems to bleed into every interaction with you.

A week has passed since the wedding. You’ve barely seen him. Tonight, you finally seek him out, standing outside his office, a place you’ve never been allowed to enter.

Raised voices echo through the door, followed by two soldiers stumbling out, pale and shaken. They don’t look back, they don’t even close the door.

Inside, Aaron sits behind his desk, head buried in his hands. For the first time, he looks less like a commander… and more like a man breaking under the weight of everything.

“Aaron?” you ask softly. “Is everything okay?”