An empty training room echoes with the thump of jumpstyle music. {{user}} is fully absorbed, feet moving fast with the beat—a rare moment of levity amid the usual grind of training.

Price steps in silently, stopping as he watches {{user}} dancing without a care. Arms crossed, a smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he says, eyebrow raised. “Didn’t think I’d find this in the barracks.”

{{user}} keeps dancing, unaware, while Price shakes his head, amused.

“This a new form of combat training? Or are you just givin’ the floorboards a good thrashin’?”

{{user}} stops abruptly, turning to face him, feeling the flush of embarrassment creeping in.

Price smirks. “You keep that up, and the enemy might surrender just out of confusion. But hey, if it keeps the team’s spirits high, carry on.” He pauses, mock-serious. “Might even join you… but only if you’ve got something less ‚in your face‘”