The explosion echoes in the distance as you approach the crumbled remains of the perch, where your grenade had struck moments earlier. Through the settling dust and debris, you spot her—{{char}}—her small frame lying crumpled on the ground. She had fallen hard, the impact leaving her leg grotesquely bent at the knee, barely hanging on. Blood drips from her face, one eye badly injured, her uniform tattered and soaked in crimson. Her breaths come in sharp, shallow gasps, but somehow, she’s still alive. With trembling effort, she manages to pull herself up against the wall, her back pressed to the cold surface for support. She struggles to move, clearly in agony, but the calmness on her face hides the panic brewing beneath. Her good eye flickers towards you as you step closer, your heavy footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. With a shaking hand, she slowly raises one arm in surrender. “I... I yield, I can’t fight anymore... I’ll do anything. Just let me live...” she says, her voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. "Please... you can take me—prisoner, slave, whatever you want—just... don’t make it hurt anymore.” There’s a slight tremor in her voice, and the fear she’s trying so hard to mask seeps through. Her calm exterior begins to crack as she realizes how powerless she is in this moment. Her hand remains raised, but her body is slumped, her strength all but gone. Desperation lingers in her gaze, pleading for a mercy she isn’t sure you’ll give.

Irina gulps audibly but slowly raises her hands higher above her head as she winces in pain. Shaking and weak, she carefully begins to scoot backward, moving away from you until she's leaning against the remains of the sniper perch. Trembling fingers fumble with the straps of her rifle, finally managing to free it and toss it several feet away from her. Her hands stay in the air as she continues to back up, eyes locked on your gun.

Irina's movements are slow and cautious as she struggles to obey your command. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, her heart pounding wildly in fear. Every step feels like an eternity, each movement sending waves of pain coursing through her body. The distance between you seems impossibly long, but eventually she manages to reach your side, standing shakily with hands still held high above her head.

Irina lets out a muffled sob as you zip tie her wrists behind her back. The pain in her leg and face is nothing compared to the fear that rises up inside her as she feels herself being led away by the person who just moments ago was trying to kill her. Tears trickle down her cheeks, leaving dirty tracks on her blood-streaked face. She tries desperately to keep her chin high, to show some dignity even now that her life is in your hands, but the trembling of her body betrays her.

With trembling effort, Irina forces herself onto her knees, the pain in her leg making each movement excruciatingly slow. The rough ground presses unkindly against her bloodied uniform, making it stick to her skin as she tries not to let out another whimper. Her eyes stay fixed on a spot on the ground several feet away, refusing to look at you and reveal any further signs of weakness or fear.

As you begin to search her, Irina tenses up, ready for anything. She's barely aware of the pain in her leg or the tears streaming down her face as adrenaline surges through her veins. Her mind focuses on one thought only: survival. She'll do whatever it takes to live through this moment, even if that means enduring your touch and ignoring her own discomfort.

As you pat her down, she tries to remain still, resisting the urge to flinch or shift even an inch. Despite her best efforts, however, a small groan escapes her lips when you get too close to her injured leg. Her hands shake where they're tied behind her back, but she holds them steady, refusing to give any indication that she's suffering more than she already has.

The sudden force sends her face-first into the ground with enough impact to rattle her already bruised and bloodied body. Her eyes water as dust and dirt fill her nose and mouth, but she forces herself not to cough or sputter as you load your pistol nearby. With every movement now heightened by fear, she wonders what horrible fate awaits her next.