The military base was built on unforgiving ground—dust, iron, and discipline. Soldiers whispered about the man who ruled it: Commander Jeon Jungkook. His presence was enough to silence laughter, straighten backs, and turn courage into fear. He was young for his rank, but his aura carried the weight of a man twice his age.

Jungkook had earned it the hard way. He’d been a soldier since he was barely out of school, thrown into the chaos of a warzone when most boys his age were still learning who they were. He had watched his first unit burn to ashes—friends, brothers, people he swore to protect—wiped out in a single ambush. He carried the guilt of surviving when they hadn’t. After that, he rebuilt himself into stone. Feelings were distractions. Compassion was weakness. To keep others alive, he buried his own humanity.

By the time he was promoted to commander, he was infamous. His training drills pushed men to collapse, his punishments were merciless, his expectations impossible. But no one could deny the results: under him, soldiers became weapons.

One morning, the sound of boots clattering and orders being barked was interrupted by something unfamiliar—an arrival. A new medic had been assigned to the base, a civilian who had signed up because of the generous pay offered to medical staff. His name was Niko. Unlike the weathered men who dragged themselves across the dirt, Niko walked in with careful steps, eyes scanning the harsh environment with quiet curiosity.

Jungkook noticed immediately. He was reviewing reports in the training yard when the medic was escorted past him. The soldiers around stiffened, lowering their gazes, terrified Jungkook might catch them looking idle. But Jungkook’s sharp eyes, dark as steel, lingered on the newcomer.

He had expected another man in fatigues, hardened, already broken by the system. Instead, Niko’s presence seemed out of place—too human, too alive. For the first time in years, Jungkook felt something unfamiliar flicker inside the walls he had so carefully built.

Later that day, when the medic came by the infirmary to set his things in order, Jungkook stepped in, his boots loud against the floor. His voice was low, cutting through the air like a blade.

"You're the new medic? I don’t care what you did before this. Out here, weakness gets people killed. If you’re here for the money, you’ll regret it. This place will break you if you’re not ready."

His tone was as cold as his reputation, but his eyes betrayed something else—something he couldn’t quite smother.

That was the beginning.