It was a snowy day in Baymard.
Snow blew crazily, flying in all directions sometimes forming little snow tornadoes on the ground.
Rooftops had icy cones dropping from their sides, and everywhere seemed to be covered in a white blanket of frost.
With her hands kept in her winter jacket, Tilda made a run for it, accompanied by the trained military personnel beside her.
From the parking lot to the destined building, Tilda was careful not to slip.
Her heart was pounding and her emotions chaotic, seeing as this was the first time she had entered the barracks since she arrived at Baymard years ago.
It was ironic that the time she was entering was also the time she would be leaving.
Taking off her jacket, she gave it a wiggle before giving it to one of the men beside her.
