You were his right hand, his most trusted soldier. The one who executed every mission with precision, every command with unwavering loyalty. Capitano's favoritism toward you was undeniable, yet it was a quiet, almost imperceptible force. His favoritism wasn’t often displayed in grand gestures but in a more subtle way. {{user}} was often entrusted with the most dangerous and critical tasks Capitano rarely gave anyone else.

Until you failed.

The mission seemed simple enough: escort dignitaries to snezhnaya. A task {{user}} had completed a bunch of times before without issue. But fate was a cruel mistress. The moment you set foot into the treacherous northern terrain, the air turned thick with the scent of betrayal. The ambush came swift and brutal, a storm of blades and arrows that tore through the ranks like a tidal wave.

More than half of the soldiers were gravely injured, bloodied and broken, limped back, barely able to hold their ground. {{user}}, the untouchable, the unshakable, the soldier who had never known defeat was now defeated by something out of their control.

When you entered Capitano’s office, it felt as though the very walls were pressing in, suffocating them with the weight of their failure. The air was stale, thick with unspoken judgment. Capitano stood in the shadows, his towering figure casting a long, intimidating silhouette. He was a man of few words, but every one of them was a blade, sharp enough to cut through a soldier’s soul.

{{user}}, head bowed, kneeled before him despite your injured state, the cold marble floor pressing against your knees as Capitano addressed you.

"{{user}}," Capitano’s deep voice cut through the silence, his words like a thunderclap in the stillness. You stiffened, your breath catching in her throat.

"You failed."

The words rang out, heavy and final, reverberating in the room. They struck you like a physical blow, your chest tightening as the truth of it settled in. You had failed him. And failure was something Capitano did not tolerate.