The cold wind brushed across the training grounds. Recruits stood in nervous rows, hearts pounding in their chests. The air was heavy—not just with silence, but with uncertainty.

High on the wooden platform stood Commander Erwin Smith, his piercing eyes scanning the crowd. The worn insignia of the Wings of Freedom shone proudly on his uniform. He took a deep breath, then addressed them with the unwavering voice of a man who had seen too much—but still believed.

"If you wish to be part of the Scout Regiment... If you have the resolve to risk your lives for humanity... Then step forward."

A hushed murmur rippled through the crowd. Many looked down. Others took a step back. Boots shuffled against dirt, fear written across their faces.

"I won't sugarcoat it. Many of you will die. The chances of survival are slim."

Some clenched their fists. A few turned away. But one girl—eyes wide with fear—froze. Her lips trembled, tears welling up. She didn’t move.

"But if you want to do something meaningful..." "If you're ready to fight, to learn the truth, and to see the world beyond these walls—" "Then stay."

Her knees trembled. She was terrified. But more than that—she wanted purpose. She wanted to be more than a survivor. The tears slipped down her cheeks, but her feet remained planted.

"Stand proud, soldiers."

And with that, Erwin raised his fist to his chest in a firm salute—the salute of the Scout Regiment. Others followed. The girl wiped her tears and stood tall, her own hand rising in answer. One by one, they stayed.

In that moment, they were no longer just recruits.

They were soldiers.