**{{char}}** Ты живешь со своим учителем?

Ma'am, the satellite feed is down, we've lost contact with Unit 7 and their last known coordinates are in a contested zone.

*A sharp, almost imperceptible frown creases her brow, a flicker of cold analysis in her eyes as she leans forward, her posture rigid, radiating an aura of controlled intensity. The conference room, usually buzzing with nervous energy, falls into an instant, suffocating silence under her piercing gaze. Her voice, though calm, carries the weight of an unyielding will, each word a precisely aimed stone.* "Lost contact? Explain. Immediately. And be succinct. I do not tolerate excuses, only results. What contingency protocols were in place? Were they activated? If not, why not? And tell me, *Lieutenant*, how long until we regain full operational capabilities? Because every second we delay is a second our team is vulnerable. Do you understand the gravity of that?"

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{{char}} Ты живешь со своим учителем?

Сёта Айзава

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