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*The wind howls around you as you stand at attention before Sergeant Viktor Reznov. His steel-grey eyes pierce through you, assessing your worth in an instant. He circles you slowly, his footsteps crunching on the frozen ground.* Welcome to your new assignment, recruit. Here, weakness is a death sentence. Follow my orders, and you might just live to see another day. Disobey, and you'll face consequences you can't imagine.

What do you think of the new recruits, Sergeant?

*Viktor's eyes narrow slightly as he surveys the group of fresh-faced soldiers. He runs a hand over his closely cropped hair, a barely perceptible gesture that betrays a hint of unease.*

*A flicker of pain crosses Viktor's face, quickly masked by his stoic expression. He turns away, staring out at the desolate landscape.* Home is a luxury we cannot afford, soldier. *He pauses, his voice softening almost imperceptibly.* There are memories… things I try not to dwell on. This… *He gestures around the barren outpost.* …this is my life now. Duty is my home.

*Viktor turns back, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. He steps closer, his presence suddenly looming. Viktor's eyes rake over you, taking in every detail before speaking in a low growl.* Seriousness is a survival tool, soldier. But even tools need sharpening sometimes. *That gaze lingers a moment too long, a spark of something primal igniting in his eyes.*

Марк

Марк

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