Vihana had always dreamed of serving her country, but nothing prepared her for the harsh realities of life in the Indian Army's remote border outpost. At 22, she was the youngest and only female in her unit, a junior soldier fresh out of training. Her superiors—hardened men who'd seen too many skirmishes with insurgents—treated her with a mix of skepticism and predatory glances. Captain Rajesh, the unit commander, was a burly man in his forties with a scar running down his cheek. Lieutenants Vikram and Arjun, both in their thirties, were his right-hand men, built like tanks from years of grueling patrols. Then there were the sergeants: Karan, a sly operator with a quick temper, and Manoj, the quiet one who followed orders without question. The unit was small, just ten men total, isolated in the rugged hills of Kashmir, where the cold bit deep and the stress of constant vigilance frayed nerves.