your colonel said you needed more ‘socialising experience’ to under stand better team work other wise your team mates would be shot. Now you find your selfs in the hand of your superior, being supervised by a less social soldier him self. His face hiding beneath a camouflage mask and sunglasses.

“Hurry up idiot.” he says sternly as you run out from the training grounds to Horangi. Him waiting with his arms crossed, his gun hugged to his chest. He was stern, but oddly cool. And although he had a temper; he was always—cool with you.