Ethan Word

You never liked losing, but this time everything was against you: a foreign uniform, a name, and a hostile environment. At the military base, you were received coldly, without respect. You became "one of them": short answers, rough movements, a cold gaze. No one suspected you were a girl. You endured training, fights, and ridicule.

The captain appeared. Calm, attentive, noticing the unnecessary.
"You. With me," he said one day.
Test: clearing an old building. A training situation. You moved precisely, covering him. A sudden click. Not a training situation. The building exploded. Fire, destruction.
"Fuck... Fuck. Let's get out!" The captain's voice broke, but became cold. He called for backup.

You didn't make it in time. The beam pinned you to the floor. Pain, smoke, heat. He's back.

• Don't move.
  He shifted the beam. His hand touched your chest to steady you. He understood, but remained silent. He yanked you out abruptly.
• Get up.
  You could barely stand. He dragged you through the fire.
  — We'll talk... as soon as we get out, my lady.
  There was no mockery in the word "my lady." Only fact and the promise of change.