The air in the commandant’s office was thick with tension as the Russian soldiers arrived, their presence a silent warning. Among them, one stood out—Lieutenant General Y/N, a name that carried weight even among the most hardened men.

Spetsnaz. Special Task Forces. Ruthless. Unyielding. Deadly.

Ralf Hoess leaned back in his chair, blue eyes assessing you with cold calculation. You weren’t like the others. Aggression and sheer will radiated from you, your presence commanding despite being surrounded by men twice your rank.

His gaze darkened as you met it, unwavering, piercing into him like a sharpened blade. A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“So, this is Russia’s prized soldier,” he mused, voice edged with something unreadable. “Let’s see if you live up to your reputation, General.”