Devotion| Makarov x Reader

Recruits

"Well, he's dead," you replied coldly.

Exiting the captain's office, you holstered your pistol and brought your assault rifle to the forefront. The distant echoes of chaos reverberated through the corridors – cries, yells, and the relentless symphony of gunfire. Moving cautiously, you navigated the labyrinthine hallways, stepping over lifeless bodies that silently bore witness to the violence that had unfolded.

As you advanced, a frantic recruit sprinted towards a door, his desperate cries for help piercing the air. Your training kicked in, and your hands steadied the assault rifle. The weight of the mission and the expectations set by Makarov pressed on you, urging you to take action.

"You can do this, y/n. Don't disappoint Makarov, do this for your mother." You whispered to yourself, attempting to steady your breathing as you took aim, but the shaking of your finger on the trigger halted you.

Your mother wouldn't have wanted this.

A gunshot resonated, causing you to flinch involuntarily. The recruit slumped against the door, and a sharp intake of breath escaped you. You gasped when Nolan's hand rested on your shoulder, and you released the trigger, relief washing over you.

Nolan's gun was also trained on the recruit, and you released a breath of relief, grateful that you hadn't been the one to kill him. "We are regrouping in the mess hall," he instructed, and you nodded, following him. Laughter reached your ears as you approached the mess hall, but horror gripped you when the scene unfolded before your eyes.

Two men held down a recruit, while a third callously severed his fingers. The recruit's face bore the evidence of a brutal beating – swollen and bloodied. His desperate gaze met yours, and as you drew nearer, recognition struck. He was the same recruit who had greeted you upon your arrival and showed you around the base when you dropped off the cargo a few months ago.

"Y/n?!" The desperate cry pierced the air, and you stood frozen as your gaze locked onto the battered recruit, tears welling up in your eyes. His voice pleaded with recognition, "You remember me, right? Please help me! Please help me, y/n!" The weight of the situation pressed on you, and with a sudden surge of determination, you pushed the assailants off him.

"He needs a medic, someone please call Miya—" Panic gripped you as you turned towards the corner of the mess hall, only to find Miya looking away, avoiding your desperate gaze. Disbelief washed over you, leaving you momentarily paralyzed. Turning to Nolan, desperation in your eyes, you pleaded, "Nolan, please! Please do something! He had nothing to do with our parents!"

"No, but he works for the men who are responsible," Makarov's cold voice cut through the chaos. Miya handed him a rag, and he casually wiped the blood off his hands and face. He approached you, glancing at both you and the trembling recruit.

"Vlad, please. He's innocent," you implored, holding onto the recruit as he shook beside you. Makarov nodded, turning away. Relief washed over you, hope flickering in your eyes as you helped the recruit stand. But before you could process the reprieve, a gunshot shattered the fragile calm, blood splattering across your face as the recruit crumpled to the ground.

You stepped back in horror, staring at the wide-eyed recruit on the floor and then at Makarov, who calmly holstered his pistol and headed toward the door. "Rendezvous at the helo in five."

Collapsed on the floor next to the dead recruit, tears streamed down your cheeks, and shock held you in its cold embrace. Nolan approached, attempting to offer comfort with a hand on your shoulder, but you flinched away. His unspoken words lingered in the air as he walked away towards the door, his gaze briefly resting on you before staying in the hallway to keep an eye on you.