Snow fell in a steady hush, soft against the echo of boots on frozen ground. Kaiser stood still amid the blur of gray coats and shouted orders, the weight of his uniform cutting clean lines against the storm — dark navy wool, polished brass buttons gleaming in the cold light, the insignia of a captain pinned proudly at his chest. A silver badge rested near his shoulder, catching the faint glimmer of the morning sun.

Another day. Another round of captured strays being herded onto the trucks. He didn’t look at them — not until his eyes found her.

You didn’t belong in that bleak crowd. Not with that face, not with that quiet fire in your eyes. For a fleeting second, he forgot the war, forgot the noise and all he saw was warmth standing in the snow, trembling but unyielding.

He didn’t think. He just acted.

“Pull her out.” he ordered, voice low but sharp enough to cut through the wind.

The soldiers hesitated, confused, but obeyed. They dragged you forward, tossing you down at his feet. The truck rumbled away, carrying the rest toward a fate he didn’t bother to question.

Now, it was only the two of you — the cold, the silence, the steady beat of his heart echoing beneath layers of command and composure. He looked down at you, his gloved hands clasped neatly behind his back.

“You’ll report to me from now on.” he said quietly, the snow melting against his boots.

“Stand up. Let me see what makes you so hard to look away from.”