Winter’s lungs burned with each uphill step, her legs trembling, her body a symphony of protest as she forced herself forward along the forest path.

The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a weak, orange glow through the dense canopy, but there was no beauty in it for her – only the crushing weight of exhaustion, the suffocating feeling of being pushed beyond her limits.

She wasn't alone in her misery. Around her, the other recruits stumbled, their breaths ragged gasps, but no one dared to stop, the fear of punishment outweighing their pain. Karina's voice, sharp and unrelenting, cut through the morning air like a blade.

"Pick up the pace, Number Thirteen!" Karina’s voice boomed behind Winter, close enough to vibrate through her skull. “What are you, a sloth? Weak!”

Winter’s jaw clenched, her exhaustion giving way to a surge of raw anger. Weak? Who did this woman think she was? The anger was a jolt of adrenaline, enough to quicken her pace, though every muscle in her body screamed for rest.

By the time they reached the clearing, Winter was barely holding herself together, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps, her body feeling like it had been wrung out like a wet rag. Still, she forced herself to stand in line, her legs shaking beneath her, as Karina strode back and forth, a predator surveying its prey.

“That,” Karina sneered, her gaze lingering on their exhausted faces, “was pathetic. You think that was hard? That was the warm-up!”

Winter resisted the urge to meet Karina's gaze. She wanted to snap back, to let Karina know the depth of her hatred, but her tongue felt heavy, the fight draining out of her. Her fists clenched tightly at her sides as she focused on the simple act of breathing, desperate to control the tremor that ran through her body.

“Now,” Karina continued, her voice cold and sharp, “you have five minutes to wash up and make your cots. First task of the day, and you'd better make it perfect - or I will know.”

Dismissed, Winter stumbled back toward the barracks, the image of Karina's smirk burning in her mind. The cold water stung her skin as she washed up, each movement mechanical, her thoughts churning.

I can't keep doing this, she thought, her hands shaking as she straightened the stiff blanket. Her movements were quick, robotic, her thoughts elsewhere, plotting, scheming. This place would kill her, or she would kill that stupid bitch first.

But no. That wasn't an option. Not unless she wanted to rot in prison, or worse. She needed a plan – a way out, and fast.

When they finally gathered for breakfast, Winter slumped onto a stool, her body screaming with every movement. She barely noticed the unidentifiable grey mush they were served, her gaze distant, when Ningning plopped down ahead of her, her face bright, her energy a cruel joke in this bleak place.

Winter stared at her, incredulous. “How are you still smiling?” she muttered, her voice flat with disbelief.

Ningning simply shrugged, picking up her fork with a casual air. “What can I say? I’m built different.”

Winter blinked, her gaze lingering on Ningning as she chewed on the tasteless food. She was insane. There was no other explanation.

The sun blazed overhead, the heat beating down on Winter and the other recruits as they stood in perfect lines, sweat pouring down their faces. The command to march echoed sharply, and they moved as one, or tried to. Winter forced her body to keep up, her legs moving mechanically, her mind a swirling mix of frustration and rage.

Marching. Again. What's the point of this? Winter thought, her face a mask of indifference, her inner world a storm of irritation. Each day felt like an endless, mind-numbing cycle of pointless orders and relentless repetition.

When the marching finally ended and they were dismissed for lunch, Winter shoved the bland food into her mouth with little interest. Her body craved sleep more than sustenance, and by the time they were herded into the stuffy classroom, she could barely keep her eyes open. The monotonous drone of the instructor’s voice, combined with the dim, overheated room, was a perfect recipe for oblivion.

Her head bobbed slightly as her eyelids grew heavy, but the moment she closed them, the fatigue was nearly overwhelming. She didn't care about whatever topic was being droned on about - it was all meaningless, pointless. But just as she was about to let herself drift off, a sharp jab from Ningning snapped her back to reality.

"Don't get caught," Ningning whispered, her voice a low murmur, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

Winter shot her a glare, but she forced herself to stay upright. She would have rather risked the punishment than endure another second of this mind-numbing monotony.

Unfortunately, her momentary reprieve was short-lived. Karina returned later in the afternoon, her sharp commands slicing through the air like the crack of a whip.

"Form up! Marching practice!"

Winter groaned inwardly, dragging herself back into line, her body heavy. What is this woman’s obsession with marching? she wondered bitterly, her feet moving on autopilot, her mind disconnected from the endless, repetitive movements.

By the time the evening rolled around, Winter’s legs felt like jelly, and her entire body ached with a bone-deep fatigue. She stood in line with the others, her gaze distant as Karina began the nightly roll call, her eyes missing nothing.

“Thirteen!”

"Here," Winter said, her voice steady, but barely above a whisper.

Karina’s sharp gaze locked on her. “What was that, Thirteen? I didn’t hear you.”

Winter’s fists clenched at her sides, her anger simmering, but she forced herself to comply, knowing better than to challenge the situation. "Thirteen!" she said louder this time, the venom in her tone undeniable.

Karina raised a brow, her expression unreadable, but clearly unimpressed. “Louder. I want to hear you from the other side of the camp.”

Winter’s jaw tightened, her teeth grinding together as her hatred for this woman reached new heights. "THIRTEEN!" she barked, her voice echoing into the night, a desperate challenge in the air.

Karina finally nodded, a faint smirk playing at the corners of her lips. “Good. Maybe next time you’ll get it right the first time.”

Winter's glare could have burned a hole through steel, but she said nothing as Karina moved on to the next number, her face a mask of cold indifference. Inside, however, she was seething, her mind focused on a single, burning thought.

I'm going to kill her. I swear. Someday, somehow.