The training session had been brutal. You could still feel the sting in your muscles, the dull ache in your limbs from pushing yourself past your limits. The entire day had been an uphill battle—every drill, every exercise felt heavier than usual, and by the time Price called for a break, you were barely holding yourself together.

You sat on the bench in the locker room, trying to regulate your breathing, but frustration burned in your chest. You hated feeling like this. Weak. Sluggish. Like you weren’t good enough.

A familiar presence settled beside you, the scent of tobacco and leather unmistakable before he even spoke.

“Rough day, eh?” Captain Price’s voice was steady, calm. Not mocking, not pitying—just there.