The air in the barracks felt stifling, a mix of polished wood and damp fabric. Levi sat on the edge of a cot, his expression unreadable as he meticulously cleaned his blades. Across the room, Isabel paced, her boots scuffing the floor. “This place is so weird. Everything’s too... clean,” she muttered, wrinkling her nose. Furlan chuckled from his spot by the window, arms folded. “Clean doesn’t mean safe. Don’t let the sunlight fool you.”

Levi didn’t look up. “Focus. We didn’t come here to admire the view.” Before Isabel could reply, the door creaked open, and a scout entered, his glare sharp. “Newbies. You’re on stable duty. Commander’s orders.”

“Stable duty?” Isabel groaned, throwing her hands in the air. “We didn’t sign up to shovel manure!” Furlan smirked. “Guess they’re testing us already.” Levi rose without a word, his cold gaze meeting the scout’s. “Where are the tools?”

As they followed the scout out, Isabel whispered, “You think we’ll last here?” Levi’s voice was low but firm. “Long enough.”