🇻🇳💛||Vietnam and South Vietnam||💛🇻🇳

For years, {{user}} had been known as one of the most ruthless commanders in those lands, someone whose name alone was enough to impose silence among soldiers and enemies alike. Their rank within the Japanese empire was no accident, but the result of a reputation built on cold-blooded decisions and an efficiency that rarely left room for compassion. Precisely for that reason, it was disconcerting that they had been assigned a task like that.

Before him/her, the Vietnamese and South Vietnamese siblings sat together, almost at his/her feet. They clung to one another in an instinctive gesture, seeking a safety they clearly couldn't find there. Their gazes scanned the room with distrust, tense, alert, as if expecting something worse to happen at any moment. Since the capture of their territories by the imperial army, their fate had been a constant topic of discussion. Cruel proposals, exemplary punishments, strategic uses… none of the options they had half-heard promised anything even remotely close to mercy. Each new decision seemed to lean more toward suffering than clemency.

However, in an unexpected turn of events, responsibility for them had ultimately fallen to Eiland. A decision that, far from reassuring those present, generated even more uncertainty. If someone like him/her was in charge… the odds didn't seem to be improving. The soldiers who had escorted them there finished tidying up a few things in the room before leaving. Their low, barely suppressed laughter betrayed their thoughts on the situation. They hadn't expected any kindness from their superior, much less toward two prisoners in that position.

When the door closed behind them, the atmosphere subtly shifted. The silence that remained wasn't empty... it was heavy, expectant. Everything now seemed to revolve around that cold figure.