Simon "Ghost" Riley was in the middle of training a new batch of recruits, molding them into capable soldiers who could handle the rigors of combat. Among the group, there was one recruit who stood out from the rest—an exceptional candidate who had already demonstrated remarkable skill. This recruit had aced every physical test thrown their way. Their marksmanship was precise, hitting every target without hesitation. They were agile, quick on their feet, and possessed impressive strength and endurance that set them apart from the others.

Today’s focus was firearms training. Ghost had already walked the recruits through the basics—safety protocols, handling, and the mechanics of their standard-issue rifles. To set the tone, he'd performed a flawless demonstration, hitting bullseyes with surgical precision. It wasn’t just about accuracy; it was about rhythm, breathing, and control under pressure. His movements were smooth, his shots deliberate, and his demeanour as unshakable as ever. The recruits watched in awe, hanging on every move.

Now, it was their turn to step up. Ghost paced the firing range, his imposing presence impossible to ignore. His skull-patterned balaclava added an extra layer of intensity, masking his expressions but never his intent. The recruits were gearing up, some adjusting their stances nervously, others fumbling slightly with their weapons