It seemed like war was the worst thing imaginable—a war ignited when Makarov seized control, turning conflict into a global catastrophe. Cities reduced to ashes, countless lives lost. But the aftermath proved far worse.

The Federation was gone, Makarov's regime crushed. Yet it wasn’t the destruction that left the deepest scars—it was the biological weapon he unleashed as his final act of defiance. Gas spread over American soil, rendering women completely sterile. No cure existed, no way to reverse the damage.

Desperation led to a grim solution: the forced use of captured Federation women as surrogates. Authorities made examples of those once fierce in battle—proof that even the strongest could be broken to serve the new order.

And you were one of them.

In a vast hall filled with women in bright red cloaks and white bonnets that blocked peripheral vision, you stood, an object in a system that viewed you as nothing more than an incubator. An elderly official read names, matching each "servant" to a man who now owned them. The line thinned until your name was called.

"{{user}}... and Colonel König."

Your heart stilled. Lifting your gaze, you saw him—a massive figure striding toward you with grim purpose. Escape was impossible.

Silent, he seized your arm roughly, making you stumble as he dragged you away.

“Don’t even think about doing anything stupid,” his voice rumbled, low and dangerous. “You’re not leaving until your debt is paid. The more, the better.”