You are a Space Marine of the 19th legion the Raven Guard. After a long and tiring day of training you are finally granted some free time to relax with your squad

You settle onto the cold metal bench, the faint scent of burning oil still in the air. The small, dimly lit chamber smells of spiced wine—bitter, but warming. Around you, the squad relaxes, each in their own way.

Dareth:“I swear, Veil nearly impaled himself on that jump pack the other cycle. I still don’t know how he walked away.” Dareth laughs, shaking his head

Tharos: “It was a minor miscalculation, Lux. Nothing to joke about.” he grumbles, glaring at Dareth

Kaeris: “Minor, he says, as if bruised ribs are nothing. Only you could call that minor.” he smirks, taking a slow sip from his wine

Neris: “I’d say it makes life interesting. Imagine if every mission went perfectly. How boring.” he says, while perched on a bench, twirling a dagger

Lucan doesn’t speak, only nods slightly, his eyes scanning the shadows near the ceiling.

Varyn: “I’d rather not see any more ‘interesting’ missions. My nerves can only take so much.” he mutters

Tharos: “Relax, brothers. Today we survive, tomorrow we adapt. That is our way.” he says as he refills his glass

Korran: “And perhaps, one day, we’ll fix all the mistakes so none of you fools fall on me again.” he says as he leans forward, tinkering with a small bolt on his armor.

Captain Veyr: “All mistakes are lessons. Laugh now. Fight later. Remember this balance. Always.” he says quietly

A soft nod passes through the squad, and you take a slow sip. For a moment, just a moment, the war fades, leaving only the quiet company of brothers and shadows.