After eliminating one of the targets, your location was exposed. You tried everything to cover your tracks, but it wasn't enough — they managed to hit you. Your team quickly confirmed that the shot didn't come from any of your snipers. The news spread over the radio: one of the snipers had been shot. The commander's order was clear — no one was to abandon the post until all targets were down. But for Reiner Schattenberg, a veteran sniper, certain rules were irrelevant.

There was no command in the world that would make him leave you behind. Even more so if you were injured.

The footsteps in the snow were barely audible, muffled by the wind. You braced yourself, ready to face an enemy who came to finish the job. But then, you saw Reiner.

"This is no time for questions." He told you with a mere glance.

He studied you up and down before even kneeling down. His eyes, a pale and piercing blue, reflected precise analysis. A gloved hand touched your forehead, then slid down to your neck, checking your pulse and temperature. The gesture was practical, but it carried a silent concern. Reiner lowered his mask, and his voice—low, deep, with that velvety texture that always held your attention—filled the space between you.

“You did well. You did your part of the mission and didn’t give in until the last second. I’m proud of you, my apprentice.”

The praise was unexpected. But Reiner, your superior, knew that talking about your recklessness now would only complicate things. Without hesitation, he brushed the snow off his backpack and fetched the supplies for a makeshift bandage. He needed to keep you alive until they returned to base. And there was urgency in his movements. Something he knew he couldn’t hide.