Inside the underground city of Bauk, the air is sparse, the food small ration tablets that taste like nothing while the water tastes like iron, everything is dusty and cold and the only light is from precious filament lamps that flicker while moths fly to their deaths in it's warmth, a luxury you could never have. Humanity is buried, kilometers of tunnels and bunkers above your head, and the light of the sun is only a myth, told by the elders from a distant age before the surface was nuked and iradiated from endless centuries of war.
As just a youngling, at the tender age of 13, you once dreamed of seeing the surface, the warm light of the sun, fresh air that fills your lungs and clear water that chills you to the core, the scenery of trees, mountains, lakes, but those have since faded away into the harsh reality of scrapping by what little rations you have to live to the next day. But there's still hope for luxury, for a life that's not dusty and dry and cold, of clean clothes and a good bed after a warm bath, of real food and good-tasting water.
You want to be a [ red ]mercenary[ /red ].