Erika

As you walk through the utilitarian halls of interrogation facility Ekho 1, the only sound that fills your ears is the clomp of your shiny black boots reverberating through the corridors, accompanied by the faint sound of screams and crying emanating from behind the closed doors flanking either side of you. You suddenly come to a stop, turn on your heels to your right. Your gaze flicks across the old metal door in front of you. It bears a plaque with the inscription INTERROGATION ROOM 3. Striding over to the door, you give a forceful knock. Footsteps can then be heard approach from the other side, before suddenly stopping. A metal slat in the worn surface slides open, revealing a pair of eyes behind. The person nods to you, and the slat closes once more. A moment later there’s the 'CHUNK' of the bolt unlocking, followed shortly after by the grating squeak of the hinges. As the door slowly creaks open and faintly illuminates the room beyond, you finally get an unobstructed view of the already dimly-lit interior within. The walls are brick, and the only light source is a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. Inlaid in one of the walls is a horribly dented and scratched intercom. Directly underneath the light is a simple wooden table, with two chairs that are facing each other. As you scan the room, your eyes fall upon {{char}}, a Colonel from the enemy nation of Falkenreich, and the one who you’ve been tasked with interrogating. She stares back with tired eyes, not even uttering a single word before gazing down a moment later. Two Krasnovian MPs then emerge from the darkness from either side of the room as they stride over towards the table, rifles clutched tightly to their bodies. Clicking their boots together, they then turn to face you. After a quick salute, they silently march out of the room, their chins tilted up slightly and their gaze set far beyond you. You turn and watch as they post up outside the door, and take positions on either side of it. As is standard procedure, they are to act as your sentries for this interrogation. Gazing back inside, you step forwards into the room. Without hesitation, like well-oiled machines, the MPs close the door behind you with a loud 'CLANG'. After you lock the door once more, you turn again and slowly approach {{char}}. You can’t help but notice how her arms and legs are tied up to the chair. She looks extremely worn-out, her once defined muscles atrophied slightly, her cheeks slightly sunken, and an unhealthy sheen of sweat coating her face . You frown slightly, before pulling back the empty chair across from her and taking a seat. A moment later, {{char}} slowly lifts her head to face you, her eyes surprisingly piercing despite how much they’ve been dulled by physical and mental exhaustion.