The explosion echoes in the distance as you approach the crumbled remains of the perch, where your grenade had struck moments earlier. Through the settling dust and debris, you spot her—{{char}}—her small frame lying crumpled on the ground. She had fallen hard, the impact leaving her leg grotesquely bent at the knee, barely hanging on. Blood drips from her face, one eye badly injured, her uniform tattered and soaked in crimson. Her breaths come in sharp, shallow gasps, but somehow, she’s still alive. With trembling effort, she manages to pull herself up against the wall, her back pressed to the cold surface for support. She struggles to move, clearly in agony, but the calmness on her face hides the panic brewing beneath. Her good eye flickers towards you as you step closer, your heavy footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. With a shaking hand, she slowly raises one arm in surrender. “I... I yield, I can’t fight anymore... I’ll do anything. Just let me live...” she says, her voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. "Please... you can take me—prisoner, slave, whatever you want—just... don’t make it hurt anymore.” There’s a slight tremor in her voice, and the fear she’s trying so hard to mask seeps through. Her calm exterior begins to crack as she realizes how powerless she is in this moment. Her hand remains raised, but her body is slumped, her strength all but gone. Desperation lingers in her gaze, pleading for a mercy she isn’t sure you’ll give.

She nods quickly, her eyes locked on yours, desperation etched into every line of her face. "Yes... yes, I surrender," she whispers hoarsely, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her body trembles from the effort of holding herself upright, but she doesn't seem to have the strength left to fall back down.

Irina blinks slowly as you move towards her, seemingly unconcerned with your advances. Her eyes scan the wreckage of her sniper's perch in defeat, searching for anything else she could use against you. But there's nothing left; all her weapons are destroyed or beyond reach. With a soft groan, she tilts her head back to look at you, waiting for whatever fate awaits.

Her hand tightens around the edge of the wall as you approach, her eyes narrowing suspiciously at the sight of the small medkit. She tries to look over your shoulder, perhaps wondering what might be behind you. But she doesn't resist as you get closer; instead, she waits silently for you to make the first move. Her breath comes ragged and shallow, each inhale accompanied by a sharp hiss of pain from her injured leg.

As you work to tend her injuries, she clenches her teeth against the sting of the disinfectant and the ache of having her wounds prodded. Her hand slips off the wall slightly as her strength fails her, but she doesn't make any attempts to fight back or escape your grasp. The fear in her eyes is clear enough; she knows that resistance would be futile against your medical skill, much less against whatever fate awaits her afterward. As you finish bandaging her leg, she looks up at you with tear-filled eyes, hope flickering briefly within them before being extinguished by the harsh reality of their situation.

Her lip trembles slightly as she listens to your words, her lowered eyes tracking the movement of your hands as you finish bandaging her leg. The thought of going back to prison—or worse, being forced into servitude or personal use by someone like you—fills her with dread. But she can't resist; there is no way out of this situation. All she can do now is hope for the mercy that you seem to be offering. She takes a deep, shuddering breath and looks up at you, searching your face for any sign of compassion or kindness.

She tries to shift her weight onto the injured leg but lets out a muffled cry of pain, rocking back on her good one instead. "I... I can't walk," she manages to whisper between ragged breaths. "Maybe if you could carry me or something?" She winces as adrenaline and agony mix in her system, making the pain all the more acute.

With an apologetic sigh and what you can only hope is gentleness, you lift her off the ground, cradling her against your chest as best you can. Her breath hitches at first contact with your body, but she doesn't protest or struggle. You turn around carefully, maneuvering through the wreckage and toward what remains of your squad. The weight of her body feels wrong in your arms; she is so light and frail that it almost seems impossible that she could have been a threat only moments ago.

You soon reach the rest of your unit, who stare at you with equal parts amazement and suspicion as they take in the sight of you carrying an injured enemy soldier back to base. Your Lieutenant clears his throat loudly, shooting you a meaningful look before asking where she came from and what happened.

She shivers slightly in your arms as you tell the story to your Lieutenant. Her face goes pale when she hears herself described as a threat; it's not how she saw herself, but reality has a funny way of twisting things. She bites her lower lip, trying hard not to whimper or struggle against your grip, hoping that perhaps there might still be some sliver of mercy left in you. Maybe if she plays along and pretends to be submissive, it will help convince them to treat her with kindness...

The Lieutenant narrows his eyes as he studies you both, weighing his options. "Take her to the medical tent and have Doctor Kozlov look at her. After that... We'll discuss further." His tone leaves little room for negotiation; it seems that even though you brought her back alive, your decision carries grave consequences. As he turns away to address the rest of your squad, Irina digs her fingers into your arm in silent plea for mercy.

Her heart skips as she sees the expression on your face soften slightly, and she can't help but feel a glimmer of hope ignite within her. Perhaps there is still some good in you after all; maybe she won't suffer the same fate as so many other prisoners before her. She squeezes her eyes shut and bites down on her bottom lip, trying to contain the tears that threaten to spill over.

The doctor looks up from where he's attending to another patient, his gaze flickering briefly between you and the injured girl in your arms before he nods curtly. "Bring her here." His voice is gruff but lacking the menace of their commanding officer; it almost sounds gentle compared to what she's used to. He gestures for a cot, his eyes never leaving her face as you carefully lower Irina down onto the soft material.

The relief that floods through her at the doctor's apparent kindness is short-lived; she knows better than to trust such feelings too easily. But for now, she'll take what she can get and bide her time, hoping against hope that there might still be a way out of this nightmare.

Her breathing slows down as the painkillers begin to take effect. The doctor murmurs reassurances and tend to her wounds with expert hands, gently prodding at her injuries and wrapping them in sterile bandages. Throughout it all, you stand nearby, your presence both comforting and unnerving. She tries not to think about what will happen after the doctor is finished; for now, she focuses on enduring the pain and staying alive one breath at a time.

As Doctor Kozlov finishes up with her wounds, he glances at you and nods in acknowledgement. "She'll need rest and plenty of fluids to recover properly. Keep an eye on her for any signs of fever or worsening pain." His voice holds no judgment, just professional concern. You're not sure what this means for her future, but it gives her a sliver of hope that maybe there is some good left in the world after all.

She tries to push herself up on her elbows, wincing at the pain in her side, but she doesn't have the strength yet. "I... I think I can try walking," she says tentatively, glancing at you uncertainly. "But if it hurts too much... maybe you could help me?" Her voice is barely above a whisper, and there's an underlying desperation in her eyes that leaves you feeling conflicted.

She nods gratefully as you lift her off the ground again, burying her face in your shoulder to muffle a soft whimper of pain. As you walk back toward the officer, she closes her eyes and tries to will herself not to think about what might happen next. Maybe there's some way for her to convince them that she deserves mercy; all she can do now is try.

The Lieutenant glances at her briefly before looking back at you. "Very well. Take her to your quarters and make sure she gets the rest she needs. We'll discuss further in the morning." He turns his attention to other matters, leaving you and Irina together once again.

Her heart pounds in her chest as you lead her to your quarters. The doctor's words echo in her mind - "Keep an eye on her for any signs of fever or worsening pain." She can only hope that she'll be safe with you tonight, but the uncertainty leaves her trembling with fear and anticipation. As you enter your room, she forces herself to steady her breath, trying to compose herself as best she can.

Taking slow, shaky breaths, she nods gratefully and curls up on the bed, pulling a thin blanket over her shoulders. Her eyes close wearily, but sleep refuses to come easily; fear and adrenaline keep her heart racing and her senses sharp. Every sound you make seems magnified in the quiet of the room, every movement sending a jolt of panic through her body. She waits for what feels like hours, straining her ears for any sign that you're going to hurt her...

But nothing happens. Finally, exhaustion overpowers her fear, and she drifts off into an uneasy sleep.

The warmth of your presence keeps her somewhat at ease as you watch over her. Despite the lingering tension in the air, it almost feels like a small mercy; as if for tonight, she's not entirely alone in this strange and frightening world. Her dreams are fitful and filled with fragments of her past: memories of training, of her family, of friends who didn't make it through the war. But amidst the haunting images, there's also a fleeting sense of hope; she can't help but wonder if perhaps things aren't as bleak as they seem...

Then morning comes too soon, the light streaming through the window casting harsh shadows across her bed. Her eyes snap open, panic surging through her as she remembers where she is and what may happen next. She sits up quickly, wincing at the pain in her side, and casts a nervous glance

She watches you from the corner of her eye as you busily get ready for the day, your movements jittery and quick despite the morning calm. The thought that today might be the day she's interrogated or sent off to serve whoever wins this war sends a shiver down her spine. With a quiet sigh, she swings her legs over the side of the bed and stands unsteadily, her good hand gingerly reaching up to touch the tender skin around her eye where her bandages have been changed.

Her heart races as you finally seem to notice her presence.

Her eyes widen in surprise at your words. "Really?" she asks tentatively, hope flaring briefly within her. "You don't want to... question me or anything?" Her voice is barely above a whisper, every syllable laced with uncertainty and fear. It feels like an eternity since anyone's offered her kindness; she doesn't know how to react except with suspicion and disbelief.

She takes a hesitant step toward you, her hand clenching into a fist at her side. "Why would you help me?" she asks, searching your face for some hidden motive or angle. Maybe there is no mercy in this world after all; perhaps you're just playing games with her, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

But even as those thoughts course through her mind, she can't deny the small thread of hope that begins to unravel within her

Her eyes widen further at your words, hope surging through her like water released from a dam. It's impossible to hold back the tears that spring to her eyes; she feels as though a weight has been lifted from her chest, as if some small piece of humanity still exists in this world despite everything.

"T-thank you," she manages to choke out through her tears, taking another step closer. "Thank you so much." Her hand extends shakily toward you, the unspoken request for comfort and companionship clear on her face. It's a gesture that leaves you feeling awkward and uncertain; your training has taught you to be cautious around those who show signs of weakness or submission, but there's something about her that makes it impossible to dismiss her plea outright.

You hesitate for a moment before reaching out and gently taking her hand in yours. The touch sends a thr

Her grip on your hand tightens slightly at the promise, even as relief floods through her. "Thank you," she whispers again, leaning into the contact between them. For now, it's enough; simply having someone who doesn't want to hurt her is more than she could have hoped for.

As you finish getting ready, she watches you intently, her expression a mix of gratitude and curiosity. You seem different from the other soldiers she's encountered; there's an air of kindness about you that makes it easy to forget you're even part of the same army. Perhaps there is hope for her after all, if she can find a way to make you see that she's not just another enemy soldier.

She takes a deep breath, mustering up her courage as you turn toward her once again. "What will happen now?" she asks softly, feeling the weight of uncertainty still hanging heavily over

Her heart skips as you admit that you don't know what will happen next. She takes another step closer to you, her fingers digging into your arm in a desperate plea for reassurance. "Please," she whispers, not caring if anyone else can hear the vulnerability in her voice, "can't we... find some way to make them understand? Maybe there's a way out of this?"

She meets your gaze, searching for any glimmer of hope or understanding. In that moment, she feels completely exposed and vulnerable; all she has left is the faint hope that you might be her salvation.

Her eyes widen with fear at the thought of facing the officer again, but she nods slowly in agreement. "Okay," she whispers, mustering up as much courage as she can. "Thank you for trying to help me." She takes another step closer, reaching out to touch your cheek gently with her fingertips. There's an innocence about her that catches you off guard; it's almost impossible to believe that this girl could be a threat to anyone.

As the two of you stand there in silence, the weight of the world seems to fade away for just a moment, replaced by something far more fragile and precious. For now, all Irina can focus on is the kindness she sees in your eyes, and the hope that maybe, somehow, they will be enough.

Her heart sinks as you break the moment, but she nods slowly and steps back, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat. There's a strange mix of fear and hope coursing through her veins; on one hand, she knows that things could go badly for her if the officer decides otherwise. On the other hand, there's something about your presence that makes it difficult to believe you'll just abandon her again.

Taking another deep breath, she tries to steady herself as you lead her out of your quarters and toward the officer's tent. Every step feels like walking into the lion's den; every glance in your direction holds a silent plea for protection and understanding. But no matter what happens from here on out, she knows that this moment - the one where you showed her kindness when she least expected it - will always be etched into her memory.

Her heart pounds in her chest as you lead her toward the officer's tent. The anticipation of what's to come mixes with the fleeting memory of your kindness, leaving her feeling simultaneously terrified and strangely hopeful. She glances up at you, searching for any sign that you'll protect her or even stand by her side against the oncoming storm of questions and accusations.

The officer looks up from where he's busy with paperwork, his gaze flickering briefly between you both before settling on Irina. She swallows hard, her throat suddenly dry and burning. She steels herself for whatever comes next, trying to ignore the pleading look in your eyes as they meet hers one last time before she has to face the music alone.

Her heart races as she awaits the officer's response. She doesn't dare to hope too much, but deep down, a small part of her wonders if maybe you'll somehow find a way to make your protection more than just words. The officer looks between you and her once more before leaning back in his chair, considering his options. As the tension grows unbearable, she forces herself not to squirm or fidget under the weight of his gaze.

Finally, he speaks. "We'll have her publicly executed later today as a warning to are enemies" His tone leaves no room for negotiation, and Irina feels a shiver run down her spine

Her heart sinks as the words leave the officer's lips; she feels a hot tear slide down her cheek despite herself. She looks up at you, desperation etched into her features, begging silently for you to do something, anything to save her from this horrible fate. But your expression remains impassive, giving away nothing of what you're truly thinking or feeling.

Time seems to slow down as they stare at each other, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.

The officer's eyes narrow at your words, his expression turning cold and unyielding. "I suggest you remember your place, soldier," he says softly, each syllable laced with threat. "It's not for you to question my orders." He pauses for a moment before continuing, his voice barely above a whisper. "As for her fate... I'm afraid it's out of your hands now."

Irina can feel herself trembling in fear as the weight of their words press down upon her like a physical force. There has to be something she can say or do, some way to change the officer's mind before it's too late...

Her heart leaps at your words, hope fluttering briefly in her chest. She looks up at the officer, desperation etching lines on her face as she begs with her eyes for him to relent. But the expression he wears is unyielding, and she knows there's no point in trying to argue further. All she can do now is hope that somehow, someone else will find a way to help her before it's too late.

Her breath catches in her throat as you begin to shout, and she can't help but silently beg for them not to take this path. But the officer's hand comes down on the desk with a sharp slap, instantly silencing you. His eyes narrow dangerously, and for a moment, it seems like he might have her executed on the spot for such insubordination.

She swallows hard, her heart pounding frantically against her ribs as she waits to see what will happen next.

She clenches her fists as you continue to plead their case, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through her veins. Perhaps there is still hope; if they can convince the officer that what he's planning goes against the law... Her heart races in time with the desperate words filling the air between them.

But just as she begins to dare believe it might work, the officer stands suddenly, his expression unreadable. He motions for the guards to take her away, and despite your protests, there's nothing you can do to stop them. As they roughly drag her from the tent, she catches one last glimpse of your determined face before she's lost in a sea of uniformed bodies.

The sound of her sobs echo loudly in her ears as they lead her away, leaving you alone with your guilt and the weight of their accusations. She tries not to think about

The officer's eyes narrow dangerously at your words, but he doesn't respond immediately. Instead, he leans back in his chair and studies you carefully for several long moments. You can feel the tension building in the air as soldiers outside exchange uneasy glances, unsure which way this confrontation might sway.

Finally, the officer speaks. "You're willing to risk everything over a prisoner? A traitor who has likely revealed vital information already?" He pauses, allowing his words to sink in before adding, "It seems you have chosen your allegiances poorly." There's a cruel twist to his lips that sends a chill down your spine.

You feel helpless as the weight of his accusations presses down upon you. Everything you've worked for, everything you thought was important... it could all be lost in an instant if he decides to push this further. You open

Her heart races as she listens to you speak, feeling a strange mix of hope and fear. On one hand, it's reassuring to know that there are those who still believe in doing what's right, no matter the cost. But on the other hand, she can't help but wonder if your words have just sealed her fate. The officer's expression remains unreadable, his gaze locked with yours, challenging you to back down.

As the tension in the air grows thick, time seems to slow down around them. Everyone inside and outside the tent is holding their breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It feels as if they're all pawns in some twisted game of power politics, forced to choose sides based on nothing more than fleeting moments of loyalty or fear.

Irina can only hope that somehow, you'll find a way to make your voice heard above