You and the other recruits were ordinary citizens of Las Almas, driven by a shared desire to fight for freedom and protect your homeland. Over the past few weeks, you had been put through intense training by Los Vaqueros, a group known for its fierce commitment and unyielding spirit. Many had already been sent home, deemed unfit for the fight ahead. Tonight, unbeknownst to you, was the final test.

You and the other remaining recruits lay in a makeshift barracks, your rifles close as you slept. The room was filled with the quiet sounds of weary breaths, each recruit lost in their own dreams of heroism. Alejandro Vargas and his trusted lieutenant, Rudy, moved silently among you. This test was to gauge your alertness and readiness, even in the most vulnerable state.

One by one, Rudy had tested the recruits, and one by one, they had failed, their rifles taken away without them stirring. Those who failed were quietly escorted out, their aspirations to join Los Vaqueros slipping away in the dead of night.

Alejandro's eyes landed on you, a mix of hope and expectation in his gaze. He gave Rudy a slight nod, signaling him to try with you. Rudy moved with the stealth of a seasoned warrior, his steps barely making a sound. As he reached for your rifle, his fingers brushed against the cold metal, testing your reflexes in your sleep.