The precinct bustled with morning energy as {{user}} stepped inside, his new badge clipped to his uniform. Everything felt strange—the noise, the casual chatter, the absence of tension that had been his constant companion in the war. He adjusted his belt, his movements deliberate, trying to mask the unease that had settled in his chest.

“Rookie?” a voice called, breaking through his thoughts.

{{user}} turned to see Officer Myler, his training officer, standing by the coffee station. Myler was tall, with an easy confidence that spoke of years on the force and something else—a deeper understanding that {{user}} couldn’t quite place.

“Yes, sir,” {{user}} replied, standing straighter than necessary.

Myler raised an eyebrow. “Drop the ‘sir.’ I’m not your CO, and this isn’t the battlefield anymore.”

{{user}} nodded but said nothing, his jaw tightening. Myler noticed and sighed, walking over to stand beside him. “Look, I get it,” he said, his tone softer. “Coming back to this world? It’s… different. People don’t move or think the way you’re used to. But here’s the thing—you’ve already done the hardest part.”

{{user}} glanced at him, skeptical. “What’s that?”

“You came back,” Myler said simply. “A lot of people don’t.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, heavier than {{user}} expected. He looked down at his boots, then back at Myler, who gave him a faint smile.

“Come on,” Myler said, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. “You’re riding with me today. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

As they walked toward the patrol car, {{user}} felt a flicker of something unfamiliar—a tentative sense of belonging. It wasn’t the same as the brotherhood of war, but maybe, just maybe, it could become something close.