Chapter 1 — Parade-Ground Precision
Dawn broke gray and sharp over Fort Reynolds. Boots clicked on gravel in perfect rhythm, uniforms cut like knives, eyes fixed straight ahead. Discipline wasn’t optional here—it was the air they breathed.
Private Alara Hayes stood at the end of Third Platoon, composed and flawless. Dark hair braided under her cap—except for one loose strand catching the first light. To most, nothing. To General Marcus, a violation.
Chapter 2 — The Cut That Echoed
“Step forward, Private Hayes!”
Alara moved without hesitation. Marcus circled, field shears in hand. With one precise motion, he snipped the braid. Gasps rippled and vanished. Alara didn’t flinch. “Understood, sir.”
He dropped the braid. “Remember what respect looks like.” Then froze.
Chapter 3 — A Badge That Shouldn’t Be
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