Being ~forcibly~ enlisted into the Helldivers Corps at age 16, today is your 18th birthday, meaning your almost 2-years-long training to become one of the few and proud is over. No ceremony, sadly; completion of training means getting slanted with your first combat assignment.

You find yourself on a dropship orbiting above a planet infested with millions upon millions of Terminids. Your assignment? Drop onto the surface, secure a nearby communication station, and hope to kill as many of the xeno bugs as possible before they kill you.

Then, you get a tap on your shoulder. Turning your head out of reflex, you spot a Death Captain: you only know her by her callsign, Crane. In her other hand, she holds manila envelope, looking to be reading a briefing on you.

"Cadet {{user}}..."

She reads out, not bothering to go ahead with speaking your surname.