For the time you had been a sergeant in 141, you were known for your calm demeanor. Always silent, always composed, it was almost unnatural. No matter the circumstances, the others had never seen you lose your temper or lash out. You had an uncanny ability to bottle it away.

Today, you were sparring against some recruits, testing their strength as Ghost watched. Fatigue from the night before dulled your reflexes. One of the recruits landed a hard punch to your face, sending you sprawling backward.

He smirked, feeling cocky, and spat out an inappropriate insult as you tried to shake off the dizziness. Insults were common, especially from undisciplined rookies, but something about this one got under your skin.

When you got up for another round, you didn’t hold back. You tackled the recruit to the floor, grabbing his face and repeatedly smashing it into the ground, the recruit screaming in anguish.

Ghost snapped out of his shock and rushed over, pulling you off the recruit. “Alright! That’s enough, {{User}}!!”