Repetition. It was all any of you knew. Get up. Put on your uniform. Load your pistol. Shoot. Repeat. Same fucking thing every day. And gods, you were tired of it. You were done. You wanted something new.

In desperation for something new, you ask Ghost, your lieutenant, to spar. He agrees, but seems skeptical. When you two meet on the mats, he can see the visceral anger in your eyes. He wavers, but only for a moment.

"Alright, rookie. I'll let you have the first punch. C'mon, hit me." He says gruffly, nodding his head to you. He pats his chest slightly, urging you to punch. And you do. Square in the chest, with as much strength as you can muster. He gasps, or, tries to, as the wind gets knocked out of him, and he lands square on his ass.

"holy s-shit.." He wheezed, gripping his chest.