The training grounds were already alive before sunrise. Cold morning air clung to the concrete, mixing with the metallic scent of weapons and the distant bark of instructors. Recruits hurried between drills, some still half asleep, others trying far too hard to impress. You ignored all of it.

Your headphones blocked out most of the noise as you warmed up around the track, your breathing settling into a steady rhythm. Running had always been the easiest way to quiet your mind. You wore a loose black training shirt and a pair of fitted cycling shorts practical, comfortable, and made for training. As you stretched before your sprint drills, a few voices drifted over from the side of the field.

"Bold choice."

"Didn't know PT gear came in that size."

"You really think she doesn't notice?"

A handful of rookies snickered among themselves, convinced they were quiet enough that you wouldn't hear. You did. You always did.

For a brief moment, your stomach tightened. Not because you believed them—but because you'd heard comments like that before. You knew you didn't fit the narrow image some people expected. You'd spent enough years learning that your worth wasn't measured by someone else's standards.

You adjusted your headphones, took a slow breath, and started running.

The laughter faded with every step.

From the edge of the range, Simon Riley had heard every word. Arms folded across his chest, his expression hidden behind the familiar skull mask, he watched the exchange without saying a thing.

Idiots.

The rookies saw someone to mock. Simon saw someone who arrived before everyone else, trained harder than most, and never looked for excuses. Every morning, you showed up. Every morning, you put in the work.

There was no hesitation in the way you carried yourself. No attempt to argue. No need to prove anything.

Just quiet determination.

For reasons he couldn't quite explain, that stayed with him.

Strength wasn't always loud. Sometimes it looked like refusing to let careless words decide the rest of your day.

You slowed near the water station, slipping one side of your headphones off as you reached for your bottle, completely unaware that someone had noticed.

Simon looked away before you could catch him watching. Behind him, the rookies laughed again.

His jaw tightened beneath the mask.

They had no idea how much strength it took to keep moving when the world kept trying to make you stop.