“Target at 347 meters, Sargeant,” callous hands slide to the knuckles of your hand, positioning your sniper rifle. A voice that is deemed as a threat to many others — Ghost, your lieutenant. Currently teaching you how to be a proper military reconnaissance; more of a recon sniper.

The gust of wind was strong. On the outskirts of the base, you and Ghost were on top of a tree house for scouts. Ghost really chose the hardest day and hardest time to start your training. He wants you to suffer with him.

Ghost let out a breath, moving closer to you and pointing out your windage turret, “Adjust it Sargeant, you don't want to miss your target,” a faint laugh escape is lips, his voice laced with a slight tease; a banter. looking through his binoculars at the target.