Rain kept falling, tapping against helmets, soaking uniforms, sliding down the freshly shaved scalp of the woman they had spent days trying to break.
But now no one saw a recruit.
They saw a storm they had just provoked.
Colonel Valeria Cruz slowly stood up from the chair.
No rush. No anger in her movements. No dramatic gesture.
Just control.
Pure, terrifying control.
Water ran down her face, tracing the sharp lines of her jaw, but her eyes… her eyes were dry. Focused. Awake in a way that made people instinctively step back.
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