Marching Into Battle

"Insolence!" General Norse's voice thundered through the tent again, his composure snapping like a brittle thread. His face flushed with rage, eyes narrowing in disbelief. "How dare you, a mere soldier, speak to me like that?" 

His repeated outbursts troubled Bener.

Lara met his fury with unwavering defiance. She didn't know when exactly her disdain for the general had begun, but standing before him now, it burned brighter than ever.

"I am not a mere soldier, General Norse," she stated, her voice calm but firm. "I am a doctor."

The tension in the room coiled tighter.

"You!" General Norse's voice surged with indignation, shattering the tense atmosphere like glass. His face already flushed, turned even redder from anger.

Berner, caught between them, felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple. He wanted to intervene, to smooth over the hostility crackling between his uncle and Kane, but words failed him.