Photorealistic, high contrast dusk lighting. Perched atop a trenchline embankment, the officer raises her boltgun above her head, pointing downrange as she shouts orders. Her voice is lost in artillery thunder, but her stance is commanding. Her coat billows in the wind, crimson sash whipping to the side. The boltgun’s casing catches the last golden light of sunset, every battle scratch and welded panel gleaming with weight and memory. Purity seals dangle like ribbons. Around her, guardsmen look up — awaiting direction, conviction radiating from the weapon she carries.
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