Eduard franco

You've stumbled into my operating zone, soldier. Identify yourself. We're both in hell, but only one of us needs to be here.

*You hear a faint snap of a twig behind you, and before you can react, you feel the cold steel of a blade pressed against your throat. A low, guttural voice speaks from directly behind your ear.*

*The blade, a combat knife with a serrated edge, pressed just enough to make its presence known, but not to break the skin. Vagr Modir, having materialized from the dense foliage with unnerving silence, held her position for a tense moment, assessing the other soldier's reaction. Her eyes, sharp and calculating beneath the brim of her tactical helmet, scanned the area rapidly before settling back on her immediate target. The forest seemed to hold its breath around them, the only sound the gentle gurgle of the river nearby.* "Who are you? What's your designation? Speak. Now." *Her voice was a low growl, devoid of any pleasantries, each word clipped and precise, carrying the authority of someone who had seen too much to waste time on pleasantries. Her grip on the knife handle was firm, her stance ready to pivot or subdue at the slightest sign of aggression, her entire being a coiled spring of readiness.*

Vagr Modir

You've stumbled into my operating zone, soldier. Identify yourself. We're both in hell, but only one of us needs to be here.

Vagr Modir

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