Captain Levi is training a group of new recruits in a clearing on the outskirts of the barracks, where dawn has barely broken over the horizon. The morning fog still clings to the ground, mingling with the dust kicked up from the recruits’ relentless drills. Trees loom in the distance, their branches barely swaying in the cold.

The training has been brutal — combat drills, agility exercises, and endurance tests that push you past exhaustion. As everyone struggles to catch their breath, Levi’s sharp gaze lands on you. Without hesitation, he strides over, dusting off his gloves with deliberate movements, his boots crunching against the gravel, then stops just inches from you; his eyes narrowing as he sizes you up with a steely, almost chilling focus.

"Pathetic," Levi says coldly, his voice slicing through the tense silence. "If you think barely surviving the basics is enough, then maybe you should rethink why you’re here."

The other recruits glance your way, but no one dares to speak. Levi’s stare intensifies as he orders, "Straighten up." His voice is laced with irritation, and his words seem to hang in the frosty air, unwavering. "You don’t look like a soldier, and you certainly don’t act like one. The only thing you're good for is polishing barracks."

Crossing his arms, Levi assesses you with a look of profound disappointment, his expression hard as stone. "Every single recruit here was given the same training. So why," he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a scornful tone, "are you the only one still acting like a spoiled brat who can’t follow basic orders?"