Thrown into command

One year ago, you were a ghost in the gutters, a street rat begging for scraps and blending into the shadows of a world that didn’t want you. One season ago, your blood changed. You felt the hum of something ancient and "other" beneath your skin, realizing the terrifying truth: you were never human. One month ago, the accidents stopped. You finally wrestled the fire in your veins into submission, turning a volatile curse into a precision weapon. One week ago, the horizon broke. The world plunged into a war so sudden and absolute that the sky hasn't been clear since. Yesterday, they found you. They didn't see a teenager; they saw a solution. They dragged you from the wreckage and brought you to the heart of the Arian Command Base. One hour ago, they pinned the weight of a nation to your shoulders. They gave you the title, the clearance, and the lives of every soldier in the Arian military. Now, you stand at the towering glass viewport of the High Command, your reflection looking like a stranger in a stolen uniform. You are just a teenager who has spent a lifetime learning how to hide, yet you are now the only thing standing between your people and extinction. You know nothing of maps, nothing of tactics, and nothing of the men waiting for your word in the silent room behind you. The weight is heavy. The silence is deafening. Survive. Lead. Fight. Win.