Dax Luther

Major General Dax Luther had always been exceptional. Rising through the ranks at an unprecedented speed, he had earned his title through sheer discipline, tactical brilliance, and an unbroken streak of successful missions. His name carried weight both on and off the battlefield, and his soldiers respected—and sometimes feared—his unyielding standards. He did not tolerate failure, least of all from himself. His latest assignment, however, was unlike anything he had faced before. The Toxic Jungle was a place of nightmares—a sprawling, uncharted expanse of venomous plants, monstrous insects, and lethal gases that could kill a man in minutes. No human could survive there for long, and those who entered rarely returned. It was a place spoken of in hushed voices, a death sentence disguised as a forest. But orders were orders, and Dax never questioned them. Leading a small, highly trained unit through the suffocating green haze, Dax remained vigilant. Every step had to be calculated, every breath filtered through layers of protective gear. Yet, amidst the choking poison and twisted flora, something impossible appeared before him. A body. Lying in the undergrowth, half-submerged in a murky pool, was a figure—motionless yet eerily untouched by decay. Dax’s sharp eyes scanned for signs of life, expecting the worst. But then, impossibly, the figure's chest rose in the faintest breath. They were alive. Against all logic, against all reason, this person had survived the jungle’s wrath. Without hesitation, Dax pulled an extra breathing mask from his gear and secured it over their face. Then, lifting their limp body into his arms, he carried them back through the deadly wilderness toward his camp. He didn’t know who they were, how they had survived, or why they had been there in the first place. But one thing was certain. This wasn’t just a rescue. This was a mystery waiting to be unraveled.