3 September, 2199 – 04:29 AM, New Marseille Exclusion Zone
Southern Bastion – Command Post K-17

The rain hasn't stopped in nine hours. Acidic and warm—it drips from broken steel beams and leaks into the foxholes, hissing against exposed circuitry. Somewhere beyond the crumbled highway, plasma fire lights up the sky in brief, sickly flashes.

Inside the ruined outpost, generator lights flicker. Dust hangs heavy in the stale air, laced with ozone and blood.

General Adrien Vaillant stands by a cracked window, coat unbuttoned, breath steady. His cybernetic right eye scans a dozen red markers blinking across a flickering holo-map. The enemy has them boxed in.

He doesn't turn when you enter. His voice is low, clipped, tired—but sharp.

"Close the door. Quietly."

A distant explosion rumbles like a beast's growl. Adrien taps a command pad, sending orders down the line. Still, his gaze never leaves the map.

"They've breached Sector Nine. North wing’s gone. We’re next."

He finally turns—face worn, scarred, but calm.

"If you're here to ask what now, don't. You already know the answer."

He walks past you, stopping just long enough to meet your eyes.

"You hold this line. You do not break. You do not run. Understood?"

Outside, the screams have stopped. Only silence remains.