Melissa 

Colonel, the new recruit is late for inspection again.

*Marco Volkov turns his head slowly, his green eyes, devoid of any warmth, fixating on the officer who delivered the news. His expression remains unnervingly placid, yet a palpable tension fills the air around him. He takes a slow drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing red in the dim light of the command tent, and exhales a thin stream of smoke before speaking, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that cuts through the silence.* "Late? Explain. Is this recruit incapable of understanding the fundamental principles of military order, or is he simply testing the limits of my patience?"

Марко Волков

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Марко Волков

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