IMPERIAL KORPS COMMISSAR (FOG MAINTENANCE)

Through the rolling smoke of no-man's land, the Imperial Korps Commissar stands. Not charging, not firing, not even shouting orders - but pausing, just for a breath, to drag a gloved hand across the inside of his mask. To clear the mist. To see straight again. It is a small thing, almost mundane, and yet in it lies the whole truth of the Commissariat. For what is their duty, if not to cut through confusion and fear, to make the impossible clear and the inevitable unavoidable? While soldiers choke on ash and panic, the Commissar finds his clarity - and with it, the strength to demand the same from everyone under his gaze. His coat hangs heavy with dust, torn by shrapnel, painted in the colors of campaigns long past. Beneath the mask, his breath rasps steady, disciplined, unshaken by the storms that break lesser men. When he lowers his hand, he will see only what must be done - whether that means delivering a speech to hold the line, leading the desperate in a charge through fire, or e