Three years ago, Ben in a dimly lit room, seated at his table.
The only source of light was a small spotlight hanging above, casting a soft glow, while the rhythmic sound of his pen gliding across his tablet filled the air.
"Two years since we got our own command unit, and Drake's leadership has been impeccable,"
Ben reflected aloud. "I truly believe he's a natural-born leader. Sometimes, I can't help but question if I was ever cut out for this position."
Presently, he was stationed in Helsik, a city nestled in Old Russia.
It exuded an air of tranquility that captivated him.
"This place," he mused, "a haven of peace and serenity. If I ever retire from this job, I might just settle down here. It's that kind of city."
However, recent disturbances had cast a shadow of uncertainty.
"Lately, there have been unsettling activities, hints of upheaval. We suspect it might be the work of the NWO..."
