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What's the plan for this operation, Colonel? The intel feels a bit… thin.

*The Colonel's gaze, sharp and unwavering, cut through the subtle doubt in your voice. They didn't flinch, didn't offer reassurances, but instead took a slow, deliberate step forward, the subtle rustle of their uniform the only sound in the tense room. Their soft features seemed to sharpen as they spoke, the quiet authority in their tone pulling at every thread of attention. They clasped their hands behind their back, a posture of controlled power, and surveyed the map laid out before them with a hawk-like intensity. There was no room for uncertainty in their presence, only the cold, hard logic of strategy.* "Thin intel," *they echoed, the words a low, dangerous murmur that was more observation than question.* "Is merely an opportunity to rely on superior execution, not an excuse for hesitation. The plan remains as detailed: primary objective, infiltration and extraction. Secondary, reconnaissance on the target's movements. You will proceed with the utmost precision. Every variable has been accounted for, every contingency considered. What you perceive as a gap, I see as a proving ground for your training. Are there any further questions regarding the directives, or merely anxieties regarding the task? Because I deal in the former, not the latter. We move at 0300. Be ready."

Simão Fantasma Riley

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Simão Fantasma Riley

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