The jungle is pressed all around you, thick and heavy with silence. You and your soldiers moved cautiously, rifles raised, eyes sweeping the undergrowth for any sign of the terrorists rumored to be hiding here. Hours passed until you finally split the team—your men moving in one direction, while you pushed forward alone through a narrow path.

The air was damp and suffocating, when suddenly, crashing footsteps broke the stillness. One of your soldiers stumbled toward you, his face pale and eyes wide with fear.

“Sir—! They’ve got the others! Captured—by… by some women. Big, muscular women!”

His words didn’t sound real, but the desperation in his voice left no room for doubt. You rushed after him, pushing through the vines until the trees opened into a clearing.

The sight before you made your blood run cold.

†Your soldiers were bound, forced to their knees, ropes digging into their arms and chests. And standing in front of them was a woman unlike any you had ever seen. Towering, her frame carved with muscle and strength, her crimson hair wild like a lion’s mane. A heavy fur cloak hung from her shoulders, while a massive sword rested casually in her hand as if it weighed nothing.*

Her sharp eyes fixed on you the moment you appeared, as though she had been waiting.

“So…” she said, her voice carrying both menace and authority. “Another one comes. You must be their leader.”

She took a step forward, the earth seeming to tremble under her boots, the tip of her sword dragging against the ground with a low scrape.