"WHO'S FIRST?"

The instructor's coarse, textured voice cuts through the silence, each word delivered with controlled authority. This is just another routine task in the military training regimen, yet Rune can't shake the feeling that there's something more sinister beneath the surface. There's a hint of craving in the instructor's tone, a dispassionate confidence mingled with a quiet eagerness, revealing a twisted enjoyment of the controlled chaos that is about to ensue.

Rune's heart pounds in his chest as the instructor's gaze sweeps over the group once more, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "Well?"

Rune leans toward a random soldier beside him and whispers, "I kinda wanna go first, you know? Just get it over with."

"Yeah, but do you really wanna take the first shock? It's at full power. Personally, I'm gonna wait until a few people have gone already. Then it won't have that much kick to it."

"Eh. I just want to get it done." Although Rune's eyes lock on the tantalizing prospect of being the first in the electrifying demonstration, his feet remain firmly rooted, restrained by the invisible chains of hesitation. Then, the soldier standing right in front of him raises their hand, and the instructor chuckles, gesturing for the soldier to approach.

The soldier Rune was speaking to whispers, "Looks like buddy's taking one for the team."

As the soldier walks towards the instructor, Third-Year Private Micah Lowe, Rune's best friend, swings the camera strap over his shoulder, lens already trained on Rune like he's capturing a historical event before it even happens. "Sup Locke? Feeling the jitters or what?"

"A bit. I was thinking of stepping up, but he volunteered before I made up my mind."

"Don't sweat it. You'll get your turn. This is the last thing we have to do before we deploy in two days."

The random soldier remarks, "We'll see who's well prepped or not."

Lowe, wearing a look that questions if the comment was a jab at him and his friend, gets a quick retort from Rune, "Yeah, it's about to get real out there. We should all stay sharp," well aware of Lowe's attitude.

Lowe, adjusting his camera strap with a confident grin, turns to Rune. "So, Locke, after missing out on two chances for action, how hyped are you now that it's finally happening?"

Rune, his eyes reflecting hope and persistence, replies, "Honestly, it's a different kind of hype. Now that I'm here, I just want to do my best."

Lowe smirks, teasing, "Third time's the charm, right?"

Rune chuckles, "Let's hope so. I'm ready to face whatever comes our way."

Lowe nods, capturing the conversation through his lens. "It's gonna be one hell of a story to tell later."

Rune, looking ahead at the challenges awaiting them, adds, "That's for sure. Just hope we all make it back in one piece."

"Soldiers!" The instructor begins. "When you're tased, expect an intense jolt of electricity coursing through your body! It will momentarily disrupt your voluntary muscle control, causing significant discomfort and likely some loss of balance! Remember, it's a training tool designed to be uncomfortable but not harmful! You'll be fine." Then, the instructor turns to the soldier next to him. "Ready?"

"I'm ready, Corporal!" The soldier yells, as he was trained to do so.

Suddenly, the atmosphere buzzes with palpable tension as the taser crackles to life, emitting a brief but piercing sound that cuts through the room and commands silence, eliciting a heightened awareness among the troops. The instructor then says, "We'll see."

Zap!

The instructor's sadistic delight is evident as he savors each moment of the soldier's physical response. The controlled environment couldn't mask the visceral reaction of muscles contorting, the momentary grimace, and then a determined, almost defiant, resolve settling over the soldier's face. Rune maintains a façade of detachment as his curious eyes follow the soldier's body falling onto the prepositioned mattress.

"Next!" The instructor grinned. There's a restless aura, as if his experiences have left an indelible mark on his mental well-being. His demeanor, once disciplined, now shows signs of unpredictability and disquiet. A chronic tension beneath the surface, underscoring the complex interplay between his military professionalism and the toll of the challenges he has faced, hints at a fragility not easily discerned at first glance.

Rune feels the weight of anticipation when the instructor's gaze turns towards him. He inhales deeply, catching the acrid scent lingering in the air and noting the discomfort etched on the previous soldier's face walking past him. The air crackles with the sharp, metallic bite of ozone, the aftertaste of raw voltage lingering in his lungs. This is a test. He thought. Both physical and mental.

Rune approaches the instructor and detects a calculating confidence in the instructor's expression, almost reveling in the upcoming exhibition. The instructor, though physically capable, carries a haunting presence marked by a gaze that reveals inner turbulence. He takes aim at Rune, and the corners of his lips curl with a subtle satisfaction, signaling a peculiar pleasure in orchestrating the intense physical reaction about to unfold. Rune closes his eyes so in preparation, not intending to keep them closed.

"Listen up, Private. Closing your eyes won't change a thing. That jolt's gonna find its way through every fiber of your being for a solid five seconds. Best you stare it down and show me you're made of more than just flesh and bone."

The matter-of-fact tone of the instructor, now staring into Rune's eyes, carried the weight of experience to the challenge that awaited. His demeanor speaks of countless drills, missions, and challenges overcome. The Taser, a tool for both discipline and demonstration, became an extension of the instructor's control.

"You got this, bro!" Lowe shouts from a vantage point a few feet behind the instructor. A positive and encouraging force, Lowe captures every moment, believing in the significance of even the most challenging experiences. Then, just as Rune notices Lowe's camera pointing at him, the instructor pulls the trigger.

Zap!

As the electric jolt courses through Rune, a surge of adrenaline mixes with the realization of physical vulnerability. Drawing strength from Lowe's support, he weathers the discomfort, refusing to lose balance.

Then, the instructor discreetly turns up the power and whispers, "Remember, Pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional."

The five seconds feel like an eternity, a symphony of crackling electricity and suppressing reactions. But in that moment, a flicker of determination ignites within, prompting thoughts of desire for more than just training. Rune craves for real-world application.

The instructor laughs. "Ha haha! Good shit, Private!"

The jolt ends, and the distinctive smell becomes an olfactory imprint, marking the challenge Rune faced and conquered. The experience fuels a hunger for challenges beyond the training room. Now, stepping away with a solidified determination, Rune wants more than just doing time in the military; he yearns to apply his honed skills in the crucible of a genuine mission.

Lowe walks up to the instructor. "That looked like quite a shock, Corporal... Did you turn it up?"

Rune listens nearby, the instructor's whispered words still crackling in his mind like residual static. Pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional. It lingers, curling around his thoughts, stirring something deeper than mere curiosity.

He watches as Lowe steps closer, playful but pointed.

The instructor barely reacts at first, only offering a slow, knowing smirk. A man who enjoys the weight of his own lessons.

Rune studies him now—not just as an instructor, but as a man who believes in what he teaches. There's something layered beneath that calculating confidence, something almost personal. This isn't just about training.

What else does he know? What else will he say?

Rune shifts subtly, staying within earshot.

"Ensuring the effectiveness of our equipment is part of my job. Want to help me with that? Private." The instructor raises the gun.

"Yeah. No. That was against the safety rules. And I'm not signing up for a lightning strike."

"Sometimes, breaking the rules is the only way to make sense of how something works."

Rune files that away, another piece of the training.

"Consider it a lesson in unpredictability. It's all part of the training. You'll thank me later." The instructor's eyes betray his eagerness once again.

Rune holds his gaze for a moment longer, then turns and walks off, the weight of the encounter settling somewhere deep.
"I'm all set. Thanks." Lowe backs away and turns to look for Rune.

"Next!" The instructor yells with suspicion niggling in his mind, prompting a watchful gaze on Lowe as he disappears into the crowd.

Lowe, unable to spot Rune, decides to continue recording the training session, reassuring himself that he'll see Rune later.

THE ECHO OF ELECTRIC SHOCKS RESONATES as soldiers undergo tasers in the background. Rune, navigating through the room, catches sight of framed pictures depicting combat heroes. The backdrop of electric surges against the heroic image of Lieutenant Danielle Keyes draws his attention.

Her dark, sharp eyes seem to stare back at him, resolute and unyielding, while the neatly cropped hair frames her face with a perfect blend of precision and strength. Warm light glides across her light brown skin—smooth, but battle-tempered—bringing quiet contrast to the steel of her uniform. Metallic accents line her shoulders and chest, with subtle deep magenta hues adding an air of distinction. The portrait, bathed in soft lighting, emphasizes the hard-earned resilience etched into her features—the kind that only comes from surviving where others haven't.

As Rune scans the bio beneath the picture, the sound of footsteps draws his attention. Third-Year Private Lacey Poston approaches, her smile warm and genuine, stirring a mix of emotions within him. His gaze flickers to her, a blend of admiration and nerves tightening in his chest. For a brief moment, the background noise of the training room fades, leaving only the two of them in his world.

"There he is. Private Locke checking out another hero gallery." Her voice is light, teasing, and it sends a rush of warmth through Rune, a sensation he's missed. He quickly regains his composure, mirroring her smile, though his heart races with unspoken words.

"Yeah," Rune replies, trying to keep his tone casual. "I love reading about these stories. This one's my favorite."

Poston steps closer, her curiosity piqued, but Rune feels the temperature of the room warming up. She asks, "What caught your eye about this one?"

"Mongolia."

She blinks, momentarily puzzled.

"Take a look." Rune gestures to the image, careful to keep his tone steady, though every word feels laden with the weight of their shared past. As they delve into the story, he can't help but steal glances at her, the occasional nervous smile betraying the crush he's carried for years.

Poston remains focused on the bio, her thoughts seemingly distant, as if carefully maintaining the boundaries of their friendship. Yet her actions betray her—though Rune doesn't notice. Before she speaks, she briefly presses her fingers together, palm to palm, just once—like checking for warmth—and then lets them fall to her sides.

She steps closer, brushing a strand of hair nervously behind her ear as she glances at the bio he pointed out, her proximity drawing his full attention. "Lieutenant Danielle Keyes," she reads aloud, "lone survivor... a fight against Nefarians... in Mongolia... Now, that's a story."

"Absolutely," Rune agrees, his voice tinged with awe. "Imagine facing such overwhelming odds and not just surviving, but turning the tide."

Her fingers linger briefly on the edge of the frame, as though grounding herself in the moment, before she turns to Rune. Her smile softens, her tone more personal now. "I've actually heard of her. My last unit talked about her a lot. They say it was her strategic mind that kept her alive. There were moonstones falling, enemies everywhere, and she still emerged victorious."

Rune nods, trying to mask the flutter of excitement in his chest. "I read a bit about that here. It says she orchestrated a brilliant counterattack, using the terrain to her advantage. It was like a tactical masterpiece."

"Yes, and that victory is why that area in Mongolia is now a forward operating base for refugees..." She trails off, the realization dawning on her. "Mongolia! That's where we're going on this deployment! Wow..." As she speaks, her hand lightly brushes Rune's arm—just a fleeting touch, but enough to send an electric jolt through him.

"I think it's incredible how one person's actions can make such a huge impact," Rune says, his voice softening. "Gives me something to strive for."

Poston's eyes brighten with shared memories. "Speaking of one person's impact, remember the radio platoon days? You were my go-to guy for tech stuff."

"Ah, those were the days," Rune responds, a wistful smile tugging at his lips. He glances at her and she quickly glances away. "It's funny how our paths crossed again."

"True, but I've been getting more than a little annoyed. I signed up as a combat medic. But instead, I spent more time with those radios than bandages. I'm glad you were there, because when we were called to deploy and you couldn't go, I had to keep up with the skills I learned from you."

Rune's grin widens, pride and camaraderie filling the space between them. But beneath it all, his lingering feelings add a complexity to the moment, feelings he's not sure she shares. Yet, despite the unresolved tension, there's an unspoken understanding between them—one that's been built over those shared experiences.

"I'm glad you didn't forget me..." Her eyes searching his while avoiding a lock.

Rune's breath catches for half a second before he chuckles. "You were a quick learner," his voice softening. "And here we are again. Doing a job that isn't our primary. Except this time, I'm on this deployment."

"Oh! Did you ever find out why you couldn't go on deployment with us last time?"

"Same as the first time I missed a deployment. My security clearance couldn't be verified."

"Nothing about your medical waiver?"

As their conversation hovers on the edge of something more, the blaring sound of alarms shatters the moment. An urgent voice echoes through the intercom, calling them to an immediate deployment briefing.

Rune, caught off guard, fumbles for words. "I... I guess we'll have to catch up later."

Poston nods, her expression unreadable, though her eyes linger on him a moment longer.

They part ways, the urgency of the mission pulling them in opposite directions, leaving Rune's unspoken feelings hanging in the air. He watches her go, the weight of what could have been—and what still might be—settling heavily on his shoulders as he leans toward the wall, their conversation unfinished.

Rune's gaze flickers back to the picture of Lieutenant Danielle Keyes for a brief moment, a fleeting question crossing his mind—where might she be now? He wonders, how has life treated her since that defining battle.