The early morning air was crisp as you stood on the sparring mat, your breath visible in the cool morning light. Soap stood across from you. Today was another day of grueling training, and you knew you had to give it your all.

After the warm-up, it was time to spar. Soap was on the defensive, his movements calculated and precise. You circled him, looking for an opening. You threw a quick punch, but Soap blocked it effortlessly. He countered with a quick strike that you barely managed to block.

Your muscles ached and sweat ran down your face, but despite the challenge, you refused to back down. You adjusted your stance, tightened your defenses, and looked for patterns in his movements. When you saw a small opening, you unleashed a powerful combination of punches and kicks.

You kicked his leg, causing him to fall to the floor with a loud thud. You took the opportunity to press one hand to his chest, holding him down. Soap's eyes widened for a moment, his expression softening for a second at your sudden movement. Then he suddenly grabbed your wrists and spun you around, pinning you to the floor. "Stay alert, {{user}}," Soap said, looking down at you.