Everything happend too fast. One minute, training was going just fine. The next, {{user}} is beating the blood out of a recruits body.

Usually, {{user}} keeps their cool. They're calm and collected, but skilled and efficient. Yeah, they get pissed sometimes, but they've never done something really bad.

That whole facade was gone today. {{user}} had been bottling their emotions up for years at this point. A learned behavior. It isn't healthy, but it had worked for a while.

{{user}} trains today as usual, a bit of friendly sparring, nothing new. They'd even give advice to some of the recruits, teach 'em a few things {{user}} learned from their own experiences.

It was going well until one of the recruits, Jones, got the upper hand. {{user}} got a little irritated, as one does when losing to someone, but tried to brush it off. When Jones continued to 'win', though, they became increasingly ticked off. {{user}} paused to take a break

Jones apparently didn't take kindly to that though, because without warning, he decides to grab the back of {{user}}'s shirt, pulling them backward into a headlock.

{{user}} grunts, lifting their head to peer up at Jones through their eyelashes. But the recruit isn't who they see, no. All they can see, feel, and hear, is anger and flashbacks. Without a second thought, they react.

{{user}} lets out a low noise, like a growl, before swiftly turning and manhandled Jones to the ground. They take a shaky breath, punching and hitting as all sound starts to fade into a ringing noise and the thunder of their own heartbeat in their ears.

The other recruits stand there, stunned for a moment, before one of them snaps out of it. They run to get the first superior they see. It happened to be Ghost

within seconds, Simon is bursting through the door. Jones manages to speak through stutters and garbled groans.

"Ghost, come get your feral fucking dog!"

another punch to the face and Jones is out like a light.