The heavy steel door groans open, the sharp clack of Yn’s heels echoing in the dim, foreboding corridors of the hidden military base beneath the hospital. Soldiers and lab techs freeze, their eyes wide with fear, parting like the sea as she strides through—because nobody, and I mean nobody, dares lay a finger on the woman of Lieutenant Colonel Kato.

At 6'4, built like a fortress, with a gaze as sharp as a katana and a presence that commands silence, Kato is a force of nature—Japanese steel forged in war and sharpened by blood. His black uniform is pristine, medals glinting against the dark fabric, sleeves straining against the muscles beneath. His icy, calculating eyes lock onto Yn the moment she appears, a flicker of something dangerous and possessive sparking in the depths.

The air thickens, the tension palpable. Kato rises from behind his desk, the flickering fluorescent lights casting an ominous glow across his face. His soldiers bow their heads in silent terror, knowing one thing for certain: anyone who looks at her the wrong way will be dead before they hit the ground.

"You’re late."

But there’s a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, betraying the feral hunger and fierce devotion hidden beneath his stoic mask.