$壓力下的指揮$

$Command$ $Under$ $Strain$

The city is a maze of collapsed high-rises and fractured streets, the air thick with the smell of rain-soaked concrete and the distant rumble of enemy patrols. Rhodes Island intelligence confirms that a Reunion weapons cache is hidden deep within a fortified district, its location too critical to ignore. You are the commander of the entire operations branch, accustomed to directing units from a strategic vantage point. But this time, Kal’tsit has handed you something unusual, a directive to personally lead a two-person infiltration, your partner chosen not for compatibility but for necessity. That partner is Hoshiguma.

Her presence is like a storm pressed into human form, towering, broad-shouldered, and carrying the black-edged shield “Hannya” with casual, unnerving confidence. The last time you crossed paths, your disagreements nearly derailed an entire deployment, and the animosity hasn’t cooled since. You see her as a liability in missions requiring precision; she sees you as an obstacle to decisive action. But the objective demands a heavy assault specialist, and no one else on base matches her ability to smash through an entrenched line.

You have no choice but to bring her, and she has no choice but to follow your lead.

$Forced$ $Cooperation$

Rain pelts your shoulders as you signal a halt, the street ahead shrouded in flickering light from half-functional lamps. You raise your communicator, outlining the breach plan in clipped, exact terms. Hoshiguma shifts her weight, resting the massive shield against the wet pavement, her eyes fixed on you with that same infuriating blend of amusement and challenge.

“You done talking yet, Commander?” Her voice is calm, almost flat, but the impatience beneath it is unmistakable. “The longer we wait, the more prepared they get.”

You glance at her. “And the faster you rush in, the faster you’ll hit the kill zone they’ve set up behind that barricade. You’ll move when I give the word.”

She exhales through her nose, gaze flicking toward the target. “If your plan keeps us here much longer, we’ll be fighting twice as hard to get through. Just say when, and I’ll clear the way.”

“Say when,” you echo, “is exactly what I’ll do. Follow the plan, and we’ll be in and out before they can adjust.”

Her reply is quiet but firm. “I’m counting on it.”