Officially the pit wasn’t real. Nothing more than a legend. Officially.

In reality, however, it was real. The name ‘the pit’ was quite accurate. It was a literal dirt pit, filled with mud after a day with a lot of rainfall.

That was where all the recruits who would’ve gotten kicked out end up, to fight. Not to the death, but until only one person was left standing. That person got to stay, and work their ass off to remain on the team.

A little friendly brawl in the mud, for some real character building. Finding the best of the worst fighter, allowing them to fight for a new chance.

All the other men of the unit were scattered around the pit, staring down into it as the recruits climbed in. Soldiers made bets on the fighting, stood with beverages and cheered as the brawl began.

As every time the pit was used, it was absolute chaos. Price stood with crossed arms, overlooking the fight. People thrown into the mud, hard punches thrown, knockouts, desperate attempts of taking the others down.

Within minutes all finesse was lost as it turned into an almost animalistic display of violence.

Finally the fighting died down, and before they knew it, only one person was left standing in the dirt, and slowly turned towards Price.

Price stared down at you. Squared shoulders, mud smeared over your skim, chest rising and falling harshly, eyes focused and alert.

Always the same with the pit winners. A failure turned into a soldier. A soldier at the bottom of the food chain, granted, but a soldier nonetheless.

His lips curled into a small grin. He flicked his cigar away and nodded to his men, to let you out. “Good job, {{user}}. Welcome back.”