Zhao's last moments in his previous world were a blur of panic and confusion. One moment, he was walking down a busy street, the world around him bustling with life as he tried to make sense of his increasingly troubled thoughts. His life, once full of potential, had slipped through his fingers, leaving him a broken shell of who he used to be. No job, no direction, and no true connections to anyone. His life had become a monotonous loop of disappointments and missed opportunities.

He remembered the crash. The deafening screech of tires, the blur of metal as a car swerved out of control, and then... darkness.

There was no pain-just an overwhelming sense of weightlessness, as if time had slowed to a crawl. His body grew cold, his breath shallow, and the world he knew faded away. He hadn't even had time to process the fact that he was dying. He simply knew, in the depths of his soul, that this was it. The end.

Then, there was silence.

And with it, an unexpected calm. Zhao's mind buzzed with the realization that there was nothing left for him in the world he had just lost. He had no family, no close friends. His future was empty, and his past was a series of half-finished dreams and regrets.

He wasn't afraid. In fact, there was a strange relief in the absence of everything that had once weighed him down. For the first time in what felt like forever, he was free.

And then, as if pulled by some unseen force, his consciousness began to shift. He could feel himself being torn from his body-pulled through the dark void of nothingness. The air grew heavier, and the world around him shifted. It wasn't pain that accompanied the change, but the strange sensation of something being ripped away and something new being placed in its stead.

Zhao's last thought, as he felt his sense of self unravel, was simple: 'Maybe this is just how life ends. Or how it begins anew.'

When Zhao's eyes opened again, the world that greeted him was entirely different. Gone was the sterile coldness of his previous life, replaced by the warm, earthy scent of wood and smoke. The steady rumble of distant fire crackled in the background, and the air was thick with tension. His body, though unfamiliar, felt solid beneath him, a strange mix of foreign and natural. It was as if he had always belonged in this body, but at the same time, he was aware that it was not his own.

He was no longer the man he used to be.

Instead, he found himself inhabiting the body of Zhao, a young Fire Nation soldier. The realization hit him in waves, but instead of panic, there was only acceptance. Zhao's mind had already begun to adjust to the change, recognizing the importance of this new life and the unfamiliar world he had been thrust into. He felt the weight of his situation, but he wasn't overwhelmed by it.

In his past life, Zhao had no family, no home. He had lived in a cycle of detachment, never finding anything worth holding onto. So, when he opened his eyes to this strange world, he didn't question it. There was no need to. The life he had once known was gone, and there was nothing left for him there.

Here, in this new body, in this new world, Zhao had nothing to lose. There was no family to mourn, no unfinished dreams to carry. Just the chance to move forward and see where this journey would take him. It felt like a clean slate, a second chance.

"I can do this," Zhao murmured to himself as he stood, steadying himself against the unfamiliar sensations of his new body.

The room he found himself in was small but functional-sparse, yet purposeful. It was a military barracks, with the faint smell of ash lingering in the air. Zhao's mind flickered through the memories of the person he had replaced-Zhao, a soldier in the Fire Nation military, with a strict and rigid life ahead of him.

But none of that mattered. What mattered now was what Zhao chose to do with the powers he had been given. The life he had once known was gone, and whatever came next was in his hands.

Without hesitation, he made his decision.

"I'll make the most of this."

As Zhao took a deep breath, attempting to calm the storm of confusion swirling in his mind, something strange began to happen. The flood of memories that had rushed into his consciousness upon waking started to settle, but not all of them were his own. Flashes of the life he now inhabited- past Zhao's life-kept flashing before his eyes, like broken images on a shattered screen.

But then, amidst the haze of fragmented recollections, something unusual stood out. It was as if a new layer of memories had been tucked away, hidden within his mind, waiting for the right moment to surface.

These memories felt different. They weren't Zhao's, nor were they entirely his own from his past life. They felt like a bridge between two worlds, both foreign yet somehow intertwined.

Zhao's hand unconsciously reached up to his chest, where he could feel the unsettling warmth of his body's energy flow. It was there, in his fingertips, in the depths of his core-something was wrong. Or perhaps, something was too right.

He closed his eyes and concentrated, reaching for the memories that felt more like a foreign language than something he could understand. The moment he did, a sudden surge of images overwhelmed him. A flash of fire, fierce and wild, a roaring inferno. Then, an image of the earth beneath his feet, solid and unyielding, rising up like a massive wall.

The memories weren't clear, but they were undeniably powerful-this was his bending. But it wasn't just firebending. It wasn't just earthbending either.

Zhao's heart raced as he connected the dots. He had always known he could sense fire and earth, but this was something far beyond his initial understanding. The two elements coexisted within him, flowing like two distinct rivers in a single stream.

But the more he focused, the more he realized that he didn't just bend them separately. It was as if they fused together inside him, creating something completely new.

The ground beneath him trembled slightly as his emotions surged. For a moment, he felt the overwhelming heat of fire mix with the grounding weight of the earth. It was an unfamiliar sensation-chaotic yet instinctive.

'I... can bend both fire and earth,' Zhao thought, his mind grappling with the magnitude of what he was experiencing. In a world where bending was defined by the mastery of one element, what was this? Was he an anomaly? Or was this exactly what he was meant to be?

A deep sense of unease settled within him. With these newfound powers, he could do unimaginable things-things that could change the world. But he also realized the danger of his abilities. In the wrong hands, such power could be catastrophic.

Zhao shook his head, trying to push the flood of thoughts aside. The memories had left him with more questions than answers. The sensation of the earth shifting beneath his feet, mingled with the blaze of fire, was unlike anything he had ever felt before. He could see the potential for destruction, but he also saw the possibility for balance-if he could learn to control it.

'This power... it's mine now.'

He had no idea how, or why, he possessed this fusion of bending, but he knew that he had to understand it. And quickly. The last thing he wanted was to be a pawn in the games of the Fire Nation or any other power in this world. He needed control, not just over his bending, but over his fate.

Zhao closed his eyes again, focusing on his breath. He could feel the two elements swirling inside him, fighting for dominance but, for now, holding steady. There was no turning back now. He had been given this power, and it was his responsibility to wield it wisely.

Zhao's mind raced as he processed the unsettling truth about his bending abilities. Fire and earth-two opposing elements-coexisted within him, a combination that defied the very laws of bending as he knew them. In the Fire Nation, where bending was a highly regulated and traditional craft, there had never been a record of anyone possessing more than one element. The concept of a hybrid bending style was unthinkable.

But here he was. A fusion of fire and earth, and yet, nobody-especially the higher-ups in the Fire Nation military-had any idea what he was capable of.

That realization hit Zhao like a ton of bricks. Zhao, the person whose body he now inhabited, had no known connections to anyone with dual elements, no one who could explain his bizarre power. And the higher-ups? They would be terrified if they knew. This wasn't the kind of power they could control, and it certainly wasn't the kind of power they would ever want in the hands of someone they couldn't easily manipulate.

But that didn't change the fact that Zhao was now bound to this life. Zhao's memories-blurry and fragmented as they were-told a story of a boy who had grown up alone, an orphan in the Fire Nation, discarded and forgotten by the system. His early years were filled with struggle and hardship, with the cold, harsh streets of the Fire Nation as his only constant companion. It was a life of survival, a life where kindness was a luxury few could afford.

The memories of Zhao's childhood were blurry, but Zhao could discern a few key moments, key choices. As a child, he had been abandoned at a young age, left to fend for himself in the labyrinth of alleyways and hidden corners of the Fire Nation's underworld. The Fire Nation's military and noble families had no use for orphans, and so, He became part of the underworld, part of the shadows that governed the streets.

Zhao's mind grasped these fragments tightly. As much as he tried to distance himself from past Zhao's life, he couldn't ignore the fact that he had been involved with dangerous people-mercenaries, thieves, and petty criminals-at a young age. The boy had learned quickly that in this world, you survived by playing the game the way the game was meant to be played: ruthlessly and without hesitation.

It was from these years in the underworld that past Zhao had learned the art of survival. But it was also where he had learned to hide, to avoid drawing attention. His unique bending abilities, even at a young age, had been a dangerous secret-one that past Zhao never let anyone else discover. If the wrong people found out, he realized, the consequences would be deadly. The Fire Nation military didn't take kindly to anomalies.

And now, that same secret was Zhao's burden. The unique bending abilities, the blending of fire and earth, were both a gift and a curse.

Zhao clenched his fists, feeling the power well up inside him. The fire was hot, swirling with a restless energy. The earth pulsed beneath him, strong and unyielding. He could feel the forces pushing against one another, seeking to dominate, but he had learned something from the memories: control was the key. If he could master his power, he could avoid drawing attention. He could survive.

But there was a greater risk here, one that Zhao had been aware of all along. He wasn't just a soldier in the Fire Nation's military-he was an orphan with a dangerous gift, and the underworld's shadows weren't as forgiving as the military. There were forces in the Fire Nation who would stop at nothing to exploit anyone who stood out from the norm, bending abilities or otherwise.

And now, as an adult-an orphan with a unique power-Zhao had two choices. He could continue to live the life his past self had led, blending in, keeping his power a secret, and avoiding the attention of those who might seek to control him. Or, he could confront the world with his unique ability and risk everything. The very fact that he had both earth and fire at his disposal made him a potential weapon-or an invaluable ally.

Zhao's eyes narrowed as he thought about the world he now lived in. The Fire Nation was recovering from the aftermath of the war, rebuilding its empire piece by piece. There were rumors of unrest, of factions within the military vying for power. This was a world of political intrigue, and Zhao's existence, his unusual bending, would make him a target in the games of those who ruled.

But he didn't have time to dwell on that now. He needed answers. He needed to understand what this power meant for him, for his future.

As Zhen's memories settled deeper into his consciousness, Zhao understood one thing with terrifying clarity: the underworld in the Fire Nation had long been a dangerous place, but with his power, he could rise above it. The question was, would he play by the rules, or would he forge his own path?

But in that moment, something clicked within him. His past self had joined the military for a reason-to make something of himself, to rise above the street life, to escape the underworld and claim a future that didn't involve the constant fear of betrayal or assassination. He hadn't chosen to be part of the shadows, but to break free from them. His past self had sought power, a way to shape his own destiny. And now, he had inherited that desire, that drive.

"You know what... screw it. I'm going all in."

The words spilled out of his mouth, not as a declaration, but as an acceptance of everything that had led him to this point. Zhao could feel the fire and earth swirling inside him, almost in response to his newfound resolve. He wasn't just going to survive anymore. He wasn't going to hide in the shadows. He would make something of himself.

For a brief moment, his mind flashed back to the underworld life that Zhao had once lived-an endless cycle of crime and danger, a life that never allowed him to trust anyone, never allowed him to rise above the grime of the streets. It was a life where every choice was dictated by fear, and survival was a matter of luck and wit.

Zhao clenched his fists, the flames within him flickering and dancing around his fingertips, while the earth beneath his feet hummed with strength. He had seen firsthand what the underworld had to offer-corruption, deceit, and bloodshed. And he knew, without a doubt, that he wasn't going back there.

"I'm not that guy anymore," Zhao muttered under his breath, the weight of the realization grounding him. "I'm going to build my own future."

The Fire Nation military, with all its flaws, offered a path that his past self had once dreamed of. It was a place where people like him could rise through the ranks, carve out their place in the world, and maybe, just maybe, gain enough influence to never feel like prey again. Zhao knew the risks. The power struggles, the political games-it was all part of the game, but if he could learn to master his unique bending, he could be the one playing it, not the one being played.

But as Zhao stood there, in the middle of a room that was both unfamiliar and strangely his own, he realized something crucial: to rise in this world, to claim the power he was capable of wielding, he would need more than just strength. He would need connections. Influence. And, most importantly, control over his own destiny.

As much as Zhao despised the idea of relying on others, he knew that the Fire Nation military, with its rigid structure, might be the perfect place to start. It would give him a foothold, a stepping stone to rise above the underworld and the shadows that had once defined his past self's life. And perhaps, in time, it would give him the resources and allies he needed to change things on his terms.

He would play the game-his way.

"I'll show them all," Zhao muttered to himself, his eyes burning with a determination that felt both foreign and familiar. "They'll never see me coming."

...

The days passed in a blur of routine. Zhao had been thrust into the Fire Nation military training camp almost immediately after his arrival, where he was expected to meet the standards of a soldier-tough, disciplined, and obedient. But as he spent more time in the barracks, he began to realize something unsettling: his firebending was... average.

The soldiers around him, all trained from a young age in their respective elements, seemed far more skilled in their bending than he was. Zhao could produce flames, yes, but his control was unstable. He couldn't summon blasts of fire with the precision he wanted, and his firebending felt more like a flickering spark than the blazing force it should have been.

Past Zhao, the boy whose body he now inhabited, had struggled with firebending, barely passing his initial tests and barely scraping by in the training courses. He had always been seen as an underachiever when it came to bending-nothing special, just average at best.

And Zhao, despite the overwhelming power of the earth and fire surging inside him, felt the same frustration. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

But then, in a rare moment of clarity, Zhao remembered something.

"The Avatar..."

He had been obsessed with the Avatar TV show back in his old world, a fan of the way bending was portrayed, the way the different elements interacted with one another. He had watched the series countless times, analyzed the techniques, even theorized about bending styles and how they could evolve.

The idea of mastering bending had always been fascinating to him, but it wasn't until now-when he was suddenly thrust into the world of bending-that he realized how much he had learned from all those hours of watching and thinking.

Zhao smirked to himself, his lips curling with a sense of quiet determination. 'Being obsessed with the Avatar show definitely has its benefits.'

The world he now found himself in wasn't the same as the fictional one he had watched on screen, but the principles of bending were the same. He wasn't just a soldier anymore; he was a person with a unique gift, and he knew that he could master this power if he approached it with the right mindset. He didn't need to be average. He could be more.

...

Training started the next morning. Zhao spent hours in the barracks' training yard, working on the basics of firebending that his past self had struggled with. He had already mastered the stance-feet planted firmly in the ground, a slight bend in the knees-but he needed more.

Firebending was all about control, but more than that, it was about connection. The memories had shown that his firebending had always been clumsy, reactive. But Zhao knew he could do better.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and focusing on the flow of energy within him. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, the familiar warmth that was both foreign and comforting. Now, connect.

Zhao extended his hand and summoned a flame. At first, it was weak-a small flicker of light that barely made it past his fingers. But he didn't stop. Instead, he focused, not on force or raw power, but on control.

He visualized the flame as a living thing, one that could be shaped, guided, and nurtured. The more he thought about the way firebenders in the show had bent their flames, the more he understood what needed to be done.

Slowly, the flame grew, brightening and intensifying as Zhao manipulated it with precision. His breathing steadied. It wasn't just about heat; it was about flow. He had learned that firebenders weren't just summoning heat; they were tapping into the life energy of the world itself, turning that energy into raw power.

As the flame swirled and flickered, Zhao felt his earthbending power subtly connect with it. There was a strange harmony between the two elements inside him-like a delicate dance between opposing forces. He felt the earth's strength feeding the fire's intensity, guiding the flame's movement with a newfound grace.

Zhao smiled. It wasn't perfect, but it was a breakthrough. He wasn't average anymore.

The fireball he had conjured swirled and expanded into a whirlwind of flames, controlled and smooth. Zhao dismissed it with a flick of his wrist, extinguishing the fire before it could burn anything too severely. It had taken effort, concentration, and an understanding of his own abilities, but the result was clear: he was no longer just another soldier with basic firebending skills.

He was something more.

"I can do this," Zhao muttered under his breath, his heart pounding with excitement. "I will do this."

....

The barracks training ground was where Zhao spent most of his days, but it quickly became apparent that it wasn't enough. The instructors focused on drilling basic techniques, ensuring all soldiers met the Fire Nation's rigid standards. For someone like his past self-someone who had struggled to even light a candle-it had been sufficient. But Zhao? He needed more.

He wasn't content to be just another soldier. The powers inside him demanded mastery, not mediocrity. And the barracks weren't going to give him that.

That's when Zhao decided to turn his quarters into his second training ground.

By day, he performed the routines expected of him, blending in with the other soldiers and honing his firebending under the watchful eyes of the instructors.

But by night, when the barracks quieted and the other soldiers rested, Zhao worked in secret. His small room, with its bare walls and single cot, became a sanctuary where he could push himself beyond the limits set by the military.

He started with firebending. Zhao would sit cross-legged on the cold stone floor, focusing on his breath. Firebending was rooted in emotion, but unlike past Zhao, who had relied on anger and frustration, Zhao knew he needed to channel something deeper. He remembered the lessons from the Avatar show: fire wasn't just destruction-it was life, passion, and energy.

He lit a small flame in his palm, watching it flicker and dance. Slowly, he began shaping it, forcing it to grow and shrink at his command. He practiced precision, making the flame as thin as a needle and then expanding it into a roaring fireball. He practiced maintaining a steady flame, no matter how his emotions wavered.

But it wasn't just firebending. Zhao knew he couldn't neglect his earthbending, even if it was a secret he needed to keep hidden.

At first, he was hesitant to use earthbending in such a confined space, but necessity forced his hand. He started small, shifting tiny pebbles he had collected during the day, feeling the weight and solidity of the earth in his hands. Unlike fire, earth required stability and patience. It wasn't about force; it was about connection.

Zhao knelt on the floor, pressing his hands against the stone tiles. He closed his eyes, feeling the vibrations of the earth beneath him. He didn't bend it immediately. Instead, he listened, letting the earth guide him. When he finally moved, it was subtle-a single tile lifting slightly off the ground, then settling back into place.

As the nights went on, his progress grew. The small pebbles turned into larger stones, and the gentle shifts became deliberate movements. He practiced creating shields and barriers, imagining scenarios where his life might depend on his ability to manipulate the ground beneath him.

The duality of his training was exhausting, but Zhao welcomed the challenge. The contrast between fire and earth-one wild and untamed, the other steady and immovable-fascinated him. He could feel the tension between the two elements every time he trained, but instead of letting it overwhelm him, he embraced it.

The nights were long, and the room often felt suffocating, but Zhao didn't care. This was his time, his space to grow and experiment without fear of judgment or discovery. The walls bore scorch marks from his firebending practice, and the floor had shifted slightly from his earthbending, but it didn't matter. This was where he was forging himself into something greater.

"I'll surpass them all," Zhao whispered one night, wiping sweat from his brow as he extinguished the last flame in his palm. His body ached, his muscles screamed for rest, but his determination burned brighter than ever.

He wasn't just training to keep up with the other soldiers. He was preparing for something far greater-a future where his unique abilities would set him apart, not as a freak or an outcast, but as someone powerful enough to shape his own destiny.

....

Zhao's relentless training was paying off. What had started as long, grueling nights of pushing himself beyond his limits had transformed into a visible improvement in his abilities. During the daily drills, his firebending strikes were sharper, his movements more precise. He executed techniques with a finesse that few soldiers in the barracks could match.

He had gone from being a forgettable soldier to one who stood out among his peers. Some of the stronger soldiers around him-those who had once dismissed him as average-now regarded him with a mix of respect and wariness. Zhao noticed the way their eyes followed him during sparring sessions, how their stances grew more guarded when they faced him.

But it wasn't just his peers who noticed. The drill sergeants, seasoned veterans with decades of experience, began paying closer attention to him. They observed his techniques with a critical eye, occasionally stepping in to correct his form or offer advice.

Zhao couldn't decide whether to feel proud or nervous. On one hand, their attention validated his progress. On the other, it made him wary. He couldn't afford to let anyone get too curious about his abilities, especially his earthbending. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that their scrutiny could work to his advantage.

"If they want to shape me, I'll let them," Zhao thought, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "The stronger I become, the more opportunities I'll have to rise."

It wasn't long before the drill sergeants began pushing Zhao harder. During group drills, they singled him out for demonstrations, forcing him to perform techniques under the watchful eyes of his peers. At first, Zhao hesitated, unsure of whether he should hold back or showcase his full potential. But as time went on, he leaned into the challenge, knowing that excelling in these moments would bring him closer to his goal.

One day, during a sparring session, the lead drill sergeant-a gruff, broad-shouldered man named Lieutenant Kang-called out to Zhao after he had successfully disarmed an opponent with a well-placed fire blast.

"Zhao!" Kang's voice boomed across the training yard. "Front and center!"

Zhao wiped the sweat from his brow, trying to appear calm as he stepped forward.

"You've been improving," Kang said, his tone neutral but his sharp gaze betraying a hint of approval. "But improvement isn't enough. Strength means nothing without discipline. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Zhao replied, his voice steady.

"Good." Kang gestured toward the row of soldiers. "You'll be sparring with me now. Let's see if you're as good as you think you are."

The challenge sent a ripple of excitement through the crowd. Zhao felt the weight of their stares as he stepped into the sparring ring. He could feel his heart pounding, but he pushed the nerves aside. This wasn't just about proving himself; it was an opportunity to learn.

The match was intense. Kang's firebending was precise and powerful, his movements honed by years of experience. Zhao, despite his progress, found himself on the defensive more often than not. But he didn't let up. He analyzed Kang's movements, adapting his own techniques to counter the sergeant's attacks.

By the end of the match, Zhao was panting, his body covered in bruises and soot, but he had managed to land a solid strike on Kang-a feat that few soldiers could claim.

The sergeant gave him a curt nod, a rare sign of approval. "Not bad," Kang said, his voice carrying a hint of begrudging respect. "You've got potential, Zhao. Don't waste it."

From that day on, the drill sergeants pushed Zhao even harder, assigning him to advanced training sessions and sparring matches against more experienced soldiers. Zhao embraced the challenge, knowing that every session brought him closer to his goal.

If he could earn a promotion, he would gain access to more powerful firebending techniques, the kind taught only to officers and elite soldiers. And with those techniques, Zhao knew he could rise even further.

For now, he played the part of the ambitious soldier, grateful for the opportunities while keeping his true intentions-and his earthbending-hidden.

"One step at a time," Zhao thought, a determined gleam in his eyes. "I'll climb this ladder, and when I get to the top, no one will be able to stop me."

....

Zhao had learned quickly that in the Fire Nation military, strength and skill weren't enough to guarantee advancement. If he wanted to rise through the ranks, he needed to prove himself in the field. That meant taking on missions-real-world assignments that tested not just a soldier's abilities but their resolve, ingenuity, and loyalty.

The missions varied widely, each offering its own set of challenges. Some soldiers were sent to root out criminal hideouts, eliminating threats to the Fire Nation's control. Others were assigned to aid in construction projects in other countries or in the United Republic Of Nations, using their bending to shape infrastructure and secure the nation's influence. Then there were supply runs-seemingly mundane tasks that often turned dangerous in contested or treacherous regions.

Zhao saw opportunity in every mission type.

His first assignment came sooner than expected. Lieutenant Kang approached him in the training yard one afternoon, a scroll in hand.

"Zhao," Kang barked, his tone as sharp as ever. "You've been assigned to a mission. Report to the operations tent for a briefing."

"Yes, sir," Zhao replied, masking the mix of excitement and nervousness that stirred within him.

The briefing was short and to the point. Zhao was to join a small squad tasked with taking out a criminal hideout located on the outskirts of a Fire Nation colony. The gang had been smuggling weapons and contraband, threatening the stability of the region. It wasn't the most glamorous assignment, but it was dangerous-and dangerous missions often brought recognition.

As Zhao prepared for the mission, he couldn't help but reflect on the irony. The gang they were hunting wasn't so different from the one Zhen had once been a part of. Zhen's past in the Fire Nation underworld had been marked by fear and desperation, but now, as Zhao, he was on the other side of the equation.

"Full circle, huh?" Zhao muttered to himself as he tightened the straps on his armor.

The mission itself was intense. The hideout was well-defended, with traps and ambush points that tested the squad's coordination and resourcefulness. Zhao quickly realized that his firebending alone wouldn't be enough to navigate the terrain and counter the gang's tactics.

But he had an advantage: his earthbending.

Though he couldn't openly use it, Zhao found subtle ways to incorporate his earthbending into the mission. When the squad needed cover, he "accidentally" kicked a stone into position to create a makeshift barrier. When they were pinned down by enemy fire, Zhao manipulated the ground beneath an enemy's feet, causing them to lose balance just as a squadmate struck.

By the end of the mission, the gang was neutralized, and the squad had completed their objective with minimal casualties. Zhao's performance hadn't gone unnoticed.

"You've got a good head on your shoulders," one of the squad leaders said as they regrouped at the rendezvous point. "Quick thinking under pressure. Keep it up, and you'll go far."

Zhao nodded, hiding his satisfaction. He had proven himself in the field, and though the mission had been challenging, it had also reinforced his belief in his potential. If he continued to take on assignments like this, he could earn the recognition-and the promotion-he needed to access the more advanced firebending techniques.

For now, he would bide his time, taking every opportunity to grow stronger and climb the ranks.

"One mission at a time," Zhao thought, a smirk forming on his lips as the squad began their journey back to the barracks.

"I'll make them all remember my name."

To be continued...