Double Agent {TRotSH x OC Insert}

Prologue

The sun hung low, casting a pale light over the barren landscape of a war ground long stripped of life. The skeletal remains of buildings jutted from the earth like broken teeth, their walls crumbling and charred, remnants of a civilization now reduced to rubble. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the occasional distant rumble of thunder, echoing through the still air as dark clouds loomed overhead, mirroring the devastation below.

In one of the war-torn buildings, a boy is seen with a vacant stare, looking down at the city below, his eyes reflecting a profound absence of life. He was utterly devoid of the emotions that defined humanity, a shell shaped by the relentless brutality of conflict. War had transformed him into a figure of stark apathy, erasing the innocence of youth and replacing it with an unsettling numbness.

He heard the distant rumble of engines, a sound that sent a surge of adrenaline through him. Peeking out from the shattered window beside him, he squinted into the haze of the war-torn landscape and spotted a supply vehicle making its way to the frontlines. Its tires churned through the debris-strewn path, stirring up clouds of dust and ash that hung heavy in the air. The vehicle was a vital lifeline, transporting crucial supplies to troops engaged in fierce combat just beyond his line of sight.

A plan began to take shape in his mind-a daring idea fueled by desperation and a flicker of purpose. The boy knew that if he could sabotage this vehicle, he could hinder the enemy's efforts and give his comrades a fighting chance. He focused on the cargo crates piled high in the back, each one potentially filled with ammunition and rations that, if disrupted, could turn the tide of battle. Steeling himself, he gripped his weapon tightly, his heart racing as he prepared to act. The opportunity was fleeting, but with resolve coursing through him, he steeled himself for the perilous task ahead.

???: Base Nevermore. This is Hydra speaking.

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At the headquarters, a makeshift command center nestled in the remnants of a bombed-out building, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Maps adorned the walls, marked with red circles and notations detailing troop movements and enemy positions. Soldiers bustled about, their voices hushed but urgent, as they coordinated the next phases of their dwindling operations.

Seated at a cluttered table, a seasoned commander reviewed reports, his furrowed brow betraying the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. The flickering light from a single overhead bulb cast shadows across his face, accentuating the lines etched by decades of warfare.

Commander: Can the Humith's survive further against the wrath of the Furmoth Empire?

A voice echoed from the shadows of the command center, breaking the tense silence. The question hung heavily in the air, piercing through the flurry of activity and leaving a palpable weight of uncertainty.

Despair began to linger in the commander's mind, clouding his judgment as he glanced at the maps that detailed their dwindling territory. The Furmoth Empire had unleashed relentless assaults, their forces overwhelming in both number and ferocity. Each day brought new reports of losses-friends and allies falling to the merciless tide.

???: Commander, incoming report from Hydra!

The Scouts Communications Officer announced, his tone urgent as he glanced up from his tablet.

Commander: Link him up to the main radio.

The commander replied, straightening in his chair, eyes sharpening with anticipation. The SCO's fingers danced across the screen, skillfully navigating through the interface to establish a connection. Within moments, the voice of Hydra crackled to life over the radio, filled with static but unmistakably clear.