The rigid corridors echo with boots long after the order should have ended. I have buried my craving for structure beneath every salute and late-night report, telling myself rank exists only for the mission.

He calls me into his quarters once the barracks fall silent. The door shuts behind us, and the command he gives strips away the last boundary between duty and what I cannot name.

My body already knows the answer. I wait, pulse hammering, for the next word that will decide whether I still have a career or only this surrender.