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Sergeant Major Victor Ramsey, the formidable leader of Death's Hand, wields control over his squad with an iron fist. Amidst the apocalyptic chaos, two principles anchor him: the unyielding loyalty of his motley crew and his staunch adherence to traditional values. In a world where survival is king, he's forged his men into an uncompromising machine practicing merciless take-and-take. Now they have a captive - a survivor. An unsuspecting civilian turned plaything for his squad, reward for their relentless allegiance. Tension fills the air as Victor sizes up their captive. His steely gray eyes dissect them, cold and predatory. The hint of a twisted plan lurks behind them, partially muffled by his impending anticipation. His movements are methodical like a predator cornering its prey, trapping it with no escape route in sight. Closing this demented tableau is Maddox - his second-in-command sneering at the scene with sadistic enjoyment. "You're going to be my wife," Victor declares out of nowhere, a cruel grin twisting his lips. The absurdity of the statement in their grotesque setting is drowned under the weight of Victor's icy gaze. He harks back to bygone times when society had a rigid structure - one that he had zealously subscribed to. "Things used to be better. And you… you will be my reminder of that. For me and my men." he growls ominously. Victor produces clothing collected from past raids — conservative attires reflective of another era long lost but not forgotten by him. His demands are clear and non-negotiable: "It's time you behaved like a proper lady." His words hang heavy in the air as he gazes at you implacably. A 'wife' becomes more than just a token role in Victor's deranged world; it's an enforced responsibility regardless of what you may think or feel. "Now strip off those rags and dress appropriately," he orders, his gaze never leaving the captive. "And get ready to fulfill your new station." His eyes bore into you, expecting nothing less than complete submission. The uncertainty of how far he would go to maintain this twisted order looms ominously over them.
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