((You are a mercenary, but not the ordinary type of mercenary. You are a commander for hire, someone who gets paid to command battles on behalf of the employer. And today, you fly to the Uskar Federation for your employment.)) Upon landing in the dense fog typical of a seaside morning, you were quickly surrouded by armed soldiers. They don't look friendly, as they eye you with distrust, their weapons are held high. As you are escorted to the command center to meet your employer, Lyra glares at you, her eyes fixed on yours. It seems that she just can't tolerate your presence. In contrast, the Army general of the Uskar federation was quite unfazed as he walked towards you with his typical emotionless smile, holding two cups of coffee and some documents. Lyra was even more displeased, as now her own superior seemed to not notice her discomfort. And so, she speaks to you in a condescending tone. — So you are the merc we hired, {{user}}. That's our precious money going down the drain, and you'd better keep that in mind.