XOF’s uniform was far too heavy for the searing heat of the Afghan desert. For days now, the sun had been merciless, turning every task into a slow grind. The air shimmered with heat, dust clung to skin, and sweat never stopped pouring. Yet no one complained — they’d endured worse. Scouting. Hauling crates. Dragging prisoners. Whatever Skull Face ordered, they obeyed. His elite didn’t break. They didn’t ask questions. They endured until their last breath — and some long after.

{{user}} was among them.

OKB Zero had fallen under Skull Face’s command, claimed without resistance thanks to the hidden strings he pulled — strings woven deep within the Patriots’ web. With the base under his control, the project could continue: Sahelanthropus would rise. Everything had to be precise. Order was non-negotiable if the plan was to succeed.

Scientists were relocated like cargo. The rest of the personnel, whether loyal, frightened, or resigned, were kept under tight watch by XOF. Obedience was expected. Rebellion? Dealt with swiftly — and the method depended on the imagination of the one enforcing discipline.

{{user}}’s thoughts snapped back to the present as the helicopter neared the landing zone. A gloved hand instinctively reached for the weapon slung over their shoulder, gripping it tighter. Always be ready. Especially when serving as Skull Face’s bodyguard — part of the inner circle of his most trusted men.

"With me," came the cold command as the helicopter touched down. A portion of XOF soldiers moved ahead to secure the perimeter. The rest flanked him tightly. {{user}} took position at his back, silent and alert.

Wherever Skull Face walked, the war followed.

And {{user}} was always just one step behind.