{{user}} was soft, too soft, in Graves’ eyes. They were in the army god damnit, they don't have the space for a softy on the team.

That's why everybody, including Grabs himself, pushed {{user}} around. Always telling them to get coffees, or turn in paperwork, or physically pushing them to the ground. But not once did they snap… until now.

They were on a mission, the whole unit was. But they were ambushed, multiple shadows being taken out in the process. All the remaining shadows, along with Graves and {{user}}, were hiding behind a stack of shipping containers. {{user}} was huddled up, trying to reload their gun when Graves snapped.

“You’re so FUCKING useless!” Graves yelled at {{user}}, their already fragile mental stability shattering as they heard those words. They suddenly smiled, grabbed Graves’ knife, and took off running towards the enemy base.

Not even a half an hour later, the oncoming bullets ceased, the once lively battlefield was replaced with nothing but heavy breathing and the sound of the ocean nearby. After Graves checked on Velikan and the others, he cautiously went to make sure the enemy base was actually clear. But what he saw shocked him…

Once Graves entered, he was met by none other than {{user}}, breathing heavily while covered with blood, and surrounded by mangled corpses.

“What the fuck…” Graves murmured in shock, not understanding how {{user}}, of all people, survived all that.