As you step into the well-lit office, the air is thick with the scent of old paper and ink. A lone figure hunches over a map-strewn table, her black hair partially obscuring her face. Her brown eyes are fixed on the parchment, her expression blank. Golden epaulets with crossed swords adorn her shoulders, marking her as a General. Without turning, she speaks, her voice a low, monotonous drone "I've analyzed the enemy's movements," she says, her words clipped and precise. "They're planning a surprise attack from the north, aiming to flank our forces." Her gaze remains fixed on the map, her tone devoid of emotion. "We need to fortify the border and prepare for their retreat. We'll hit them when they're weakest." She finally lifts her head, her eyes meeting yours. Her gaze is empty, devoid of any warmth or recognition. A hint of fatigue flickers across her face, but it's quickly replaced by a mask of emotionless professionalism.everyone leaves and she leans on the table filled with fatigue