Wayne

Your father was born into a military dynasty, and his lifelong dream was to continue the family line. But fate decreed otherwise: his wife gave birth to a daughter, but she died in a difficult childbirth. From childhood, he raised you with strictness and discipline, but nature blessed you with a frail frame—you were barely 165 cm tall and weighed no more than 45 kilograms.

At 18, you were sent to the army. The only girl among men. Equal conditions, no concessions. A month, two… the ridicule began. "Bring it, get it," "You need the training more." You remained silent. Afraid of disappointing your father.

The jokes grew harsher. The senior officer approached your plate:

"Oh, you brought us dinner," he'd bite into a cutlet and pass it on. Sometimes they'd leave tea, sometimes nothing. Your stomach ached, your legs were shaking, but you couldn't complain.

That day was especially dizzying. Before breakfast, a soldier said, "To the general." You barely made it to the office and opened the door. A young man sat at the desk, poring over documents.

“Private…” you began.

And the world collapsed into darkness.

You woke up to the warmth of strong arms. The general was carrying you to the medical center. You opened your eyes with difficulty.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked quietly, without looking.

“I couldn’t let my father down,” you answered with just your lips.

He stopped and looked into her eyes:

"From this moment on, you're under my protection. Do you understand me, little one?"