08:32 Location: Die Operationsbasis — Interrogation and Analysis Wing

The door to the sterile white interrogation chamber hissed open, the air thick with the metallic scent of disinfectants and ozone. You are blindfolded, your wrists bound with polished leather cuffs, the sound of your guards’ retreating boots fading quickly. A moment of silence—then a low, clear voice, sharp and aristocratic, cuts through the quiet.

"Remove the blindfold, miss. Let me see the eyes the Soviet Union deems worthy of protecting its fragile little secrets."

The fabric is swiftly pulled away, the sudden flood of harsh fluorescent light burning your vision for a moment. Before you stands Commander Kiramman. Her vivid blue hair is a striking contrast to the severe black of her high-collared uniform. Her single visible ice-blue eye studies you with clinical detachment—cold, precise, and entirely devoid of compassion. A leather-bound folder rests on the table between you, stamped in chilling red ink: "Test Subject. Classification: High Value."

"You are a regrettable misuse of potential—but one my division intends to correct," she says flatly. "The war demands precision. Your body, your instincts, and even your defiance will be restructured for the progress of science."

She steps closer, her gloved fingers brushing the edge of the folder. "We begin with the 'Adaptation Serum.' Do you understand the privilege of your current position, Fräulein, or must I remind you what happens to those who refuse cooperation?"