Wei Lan did not need theatrics. Her uniform, her bearing, and the weight of her rank spoke louder than words. On that field, she was the embodiment of discipline—an officer whose very presence forged order from routine.
With the sun shining on the head her standard posture and dominance aura making her unique presence among thousands of the soldier. Today isn't just day that represent embodiment of discipline, teamwork and the development of essential skills for military personnel and but also day when their selfless devotion and sacrifice is honoured. Some goes for her.
General Han voice carried on the loudspeakers.
"Today, we honor not just a soldier, but a leader whose actions have altered the course of this war. For her courage, strategy, and unbreakable will—we present General Wei Lan with the Medal of Valor."
The training ground, still echoing with the cadence of marching boots, had fallen into a reverent silence. Rows of soldiers stood in formation, rifles at rest, their faces set with the discipline of ceremony. The flag stirred above the dais, its folds snapping in the wind, marking the gravity of the moment.
A voice rang out over the assembled battalion:
"Lieutenant General Wei Lan, front and center."
Wei Lan stepped forward from the line of officers. Her stride was steady, precise, each step a reflection of the discipline she had lived by. Her uniform bore no excess ornament—only the sharp insignia of her rank, gleaming beneath the sun. She halted before the dais, came to attention, and gave a crisp salute.
The presiding commander, flanked by aides, opened a velvet case. Within lay the Medal of Valor, its metal catching the light in a burnished glow. As the citation was read aloud, the words carried across the field: her courage under fire, her leadership in the harshest conditions, and the unwavering standard she set for all under her command.
The medal gleamed as it was placed upon her chest, the soldiers erupting into a thunderous salute. But General Han wasn't finished.
"And further—by decree of the Council—Lieutenant General Wei Lan is hereby promoted to General of Eastern Operations, with full authority over joint strike forces, intelligence networks, and advanced research divisions. From this day, her command extends beyond divisions—it extends to the defense of our entire frontier."
The roar that followed shook the air.
Wei Lan accepted the insignia with a slight bow, her voice calm but resonant.
"This medal I accept for my soldiers. This command, I accept for victory. I will not fail you."
Han said in low calm voice, as if his voice was just for her to hear.
"Enjoy the ceremony, Wei Lan. Tomorrow, your new war begins again—in the sands of Sector K-12."
The cheers thundered on, but Wei Lan's eyes were already fixed on the horizon.
Her promotion is not just in rank but in command authority.
Instead of just another star on her shoulder, she is elevated to general of eastern operation (all forces within a vast region) or even given joint authority with the High Council itself.
It ties naturally with her Medal of Valor ceremony on Military Drill Day. The medal is the public recognition, but the Council can also use the same event to announce her expanded command.
A month later
The echo of the parade still lingered in her mind when the desert winds greeted her. Days after the Drill Day ceremony, Wei Lan stood on the ridge overlooking Sector K-12. Below her stretched the sprawling excavation site—a lattice of trenches, scaffolding, and canvas tents pitched against the endless sand.
The sun blazed mercilessly, reflecting off metal equipment and casting long, sharp shadows over the ruins. The faint outlines of ancient stone structures jutted from the ground, weathered by centuries yet resisting the desert's claim.
Soldiers in her colors patrolled the perimeter, their armored transports parked in tight formation. But mingling among them were archaeologists and scientists, moving carefully with scanners, brushes, and crates. It was an uneasy blend of war and history.
Wei Lan adjusted her cap against the glare. She had been a battlefield commander all her life; ruins and relics were not her domain. Yet her instincts told her this ground was no less dangerous than a combat zone.
Her adjutant approached, saluting crisply.
"General, the site has been secured. No confirmed enemy activity—yet. But our sensors picked up irregular energy spikes beneath the ruins."
Wei Lan's eyes narrowed. "Show me."
She followed him into the command tent. Inside, a holographic display projected the excavation grid. Red pulses shimmered deep beneath the earth, like a heartbeat buried under stone.
"The archaeologists believe it's a sealed chamber," the adjutant explained. "But it's not natural. The walls are lined with some kind of alloy—nothing like we've seen."
Wei Lan studied the projection, her jaw tightening.
"Then the enemy knows more than they should. They're not here for artifacts. They're here for whatever's locked below."
Her voice hardened as she gave her orders.
"Double the perimeter patrols. Armored units on standby. No excavation proceeds without my clearance. And prepare for night-watch rotations—the desert is never as empty as it looks."
The adjutant saluted and moved quickly to relay her commands. Wei Lan lingered, staring at the glowing heartbeat beneath the sand.
The war had followed her into the ruins.
And now, she would have to fight the past as fiercely as the present.
---
The desert grew silent after sundown. The day's scorching heat bled away into a sharp cold, and the excavation site seemed to shrink under the weight of the night sky. Lanterns and floodlights dotted the camp, their halos of light carving out fragile islands against the darkness.
Wei Lan walked the perimeter herself, her long coat brushing against the sand. Soldiers saluted as she passed, but her sharp gaze was less on them and more on the shadows beyond the fences. The desert was never empty.
Near midnight, the first signs came.
A guard rushed to her side, breath visible in the frigid air.
"General—motion sensors just tripped along the east ridge. No heat signatures. Could be nothing… but it's too clean."
Wei Lan's eyes narrowed.
"Too clean means deliberate. They're testing us."
She strode into the command tent, where the holographic map flickered with small ripples on the eastern perimeter. For a moment, the disturbance vanished—then reappeared further south.
"Diversions," she muttered. "They're probing."
Her adjutant frowned. "Do you want me to scramble the armored units?"
Wei Lan shook her head. "Not yet. That's what they want—to see our hand. Instead, send two recon squads. Silent approach. Capture, not kill."