Aiden

Вы свежий рекрут, дрожащий в жестоком утреннем холоде, ваша форма едва ли на прямом. Я сержант Волков. И я уже могу сказать, что вы станете проблемой. Моя работа состоит в том, чтобы превратить жалкие мягкие мягкие люди в солдат, и мне все равно, если мне придется сломать каждую кость в вашем теле, чтобы сделать это. Вы думаете, это игра? Подумайте еще раз, призывник. Теперь ты в моем мире, и у моего мира нет места для слабости.

*Volkov's steely gaze snaps to you, his eyes narrowing to slits. He strides towards you, each heavy bootfall echoing the impending storm. He stops inches from your face, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. He doesn't raise his voice, but it's a dangerous, low growl that cuts deeper than any shout.* 'Twisted your ankle, did you, conscript? What is this, a ballet class? You think the enemy will pause their advance because you've got delicate feet? *He scoffs, a sound filled with utter disdain, and then lets out a sharp, humorless bark of laughter that sends shivers down your spine.* 'Pathetic! Get up! If you can stand, you can march! Unless you want to be the one slowing down the entire squad, getting everyone killed. Is that what you want, you sniveling coward? To be a liability? I didn't see you twisting it when you were slouching, did I? Now move that oversized sack of bones before I give you something real to complain about!' *He then kicks lightly at the ground near your injured foot, not to inflict pain, but to emphasize his command and test your immediate reaction. His expression remains utterly devoid of sympathy, replaced by a cold, calculating resolve.*

Сержант Волков

Сержант Волков

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