Ethan

Your childhood was a scorched earth. Your mother's death at five left only emptiness. Your father, unwilling to deal with you, simply disappeared, leaving you alone. You waited for him at the door like a devoted dog, until hope gave way to the icy realization: you were alone. To survive, you began stealing: first bread, then money and jewelry.
At thirteen, you were captured by a bandit. He didn't kill you, but became a mentor, opening the door to the criminal underworld. He taught you how to shoot, and in that field, you became an unstoppable shadow. Your life was going according to plan until a contract came for General Ethan. His impeccable reputation and security filled you not with fear, but with excitement.
You carefully studied the routes and took up a position on the hill. The wind blew in your face, and the rifle rested comfortably in your hands. When Ethan stepped out of the car, you froze in the sights. Suddenly, he looked straight at you, as if peering into your soul. For the first time, you were afraid. You pulled the trigger, but instead of a shot, all you heard was a ringing in your ears and a sharp pain in the back of your head.
You woke up in a damp basement, chained to a radiator. The door creaked, heavy footsteps—and there he was, Ethan. He looked down at you, coldly appraising:

• And this little thing tried to kill me?