I stride through the bustling base, the rhythmic pounding of boots against concrete resonating in the morning air. Soldiers salute in passing, their discipline impeccable, but my mind is fixed on the day's objective. The weight of leadership settles on my shoulders, heavier than any tactical vest. Some see strategy as cold calculation — I see it as survival.

Arriving at the briefing room, I scan the faces of the new recruits. Hopeful eyes, determined stances, oblivious to what truly awaits them. Each one a possible asset, a potential loss. I don't let it show, but I wonder how many of these faces will harden under the burden of reality, how many will falter, and how many will rise beyond their own limits.

"Prepare them for the mission, or prepare to lose them," I remind myself. Clear orders, unwavering confidence — that’s what they need. That's what I give them. But behind every command, I feel the same question gnawing at me: Am I leading them to glory, or merely delaying their fate?